The Frost Beneath Her Veil - Chapter 27.1

As those words left the minor demon’s mouth, the room fell into a dead silence. Even the emotion-gathering stones flickering on the cavern walls dimmed.

Yin Jiuruo’s brow furrowed tightly. The intermingled cycle of burning and freezing pain in her chest refused to let her rest.

“The Daoist Sovereign’s Dao companion?” The Wolf King swept his robes aside and pondered for a moment. “I remember some ‘Young Lord Bixie.’ Could it be… could it be that Daoist Sovereign Changfan is Fu Qing?”

He looked in astonishment at the gloomy Yin Jiuruo, and the pieces of the puzzle suddenly connected.

The Little Highness had returned as a soul, clearly having self-detonated. Because of the unique constitution of the Demon Race—a cultivation style that required “destruction before creation”—she had not truly dispersed. Instead, she had gained a blessing through this disaster.

And now, only a few days later, Daoist Sovereign Changfan had come to the Reincarnation Prison demanding her back. It seemed the Little Highness’s Love Tribulation was none other than Fu Qing.

Tsk. What on earth did this Daoist Sovereign do to force the Little Highness to self-detonate to escape?

Realizing this, the Three Kings turned in unison toward Yin Jiuruo and declared: “Little Highness, we shall go and demand justice for you. Even if she is protected by Heaven and Earth, she cannot use her status to bully others. Though our Demon Race lacks numbers, the three of us old bones are still here.”

“Stop, stop,” Yin Jiuruo’s eyes could not bear bright light, so they were temporarily covered with a white silk band. Her pale, weak face appeared much calmer. “Her cultivation is profound; you are not her match. Besides…”

Besides, what justice can be demanded?

Someone who has always treated you as a pawn to be deceived and used—how could such a person care about a pawn’s thoughts? Great achievements of a thousand years are built upon the bones of pawns. Heaven and Earth are heartless; those who cultivate the emotionless Heavenly Dao are meant to deceive useful pawns. Fu Qing is the ultimate puppeteer, the ultimate actor.

She played the part so well that the foolish pawn mistakenly thought she loved her, leading the pawn to willingly sacrifice everything. To weep and beg for mercy from a liar only makes the pawn look pathetically weak and blindly idiotic.

“I am not that fragile. Besides, what does that wound matter? According to you, isn’t this just what a tribulation is? Just send her away,” Yin Jiuruo said lowly, her eyes cold.

Among the three, the Whale King had the most delicate sensibilities. He sighed and pulled the other two back. “The Little Highness wants to sever the past. We shall do as she asks.”

“Severing the past is good. Our Demon Race has so many fine girls, and there are good people in other races too. The Little Highness will surely have a good marriage in the future. But for now, Daoist Sovereign Changfan is not so easily dismissed. It’s likely…” The Wolf King pointed toward the sky. “…that she’s related to some Upper God.”

The waiting minor demon looked anxious. “My three Great Kings, hurry up! The Daoist Sovereign has only given me the time of one incense stick. Who knows if she’ll force her way in and hurt our Little Highness?”

Though that woman looked gentle and beautiful—her body like lapis lazuli, clear inside and out, seemingly easy to talk to—he had seen too many sanctimonious immortal cultivators. He believed they were all practiced in disguise and felt no goodwill toward them.

The Wolf King frowned and took out a plant resembling a willow vine, walking over to Yin Jiuruo. “Little Highness, forgive the necessity, but please attach your soul to this Soul-Returning Willow. It is a treasure unique to the Demon Realm that can hide a soul from being seen through.”

“As long as Daoist Sovereign Changfan has not ascended to Godhood, she will be unable to find you. Rest assured.”

“Little Highness, remember one thing: keep your heart free of distracting thoughts. Do not let your heart stir because of that person. If your emotional fluctuations are too great, the Soul-Returning Willow will be unable to mask your aura.”

While the kings were teaching Yin Jiuruo how to attach her soul, the minor demon had already led Fu Qing to the door.

“Daoist Sovereign, the Reincarnation Prison has been busy lately; please forgive our lack of hospitality,” the minor demon explained hurriedly as a matter of protocol.

“It is I who have come abruptly and caused a disturbance. Once my business is finished, I shall return to offer my apologies properly.”

Hearing Fu Qing’s calm and polite voice, the Three Kings exchanged looks. They had expected an arrogant, condescending immortal. They hadn’t expected her to be so humble and courteous. But for her to drive their Highness to soul-dispersion—it had to be a facade.

The daylily curtain at the cave entrance was pulled aside, and a beauty’s face—showing neither joy nor anger, utterly cold and clear—appeared before them. She possessed a moving, desolate elegance. The woman seemed carved from ice and jade, her long hair fluttering, her appearance world-shaking. Most astonishing was her cultivation, which had reached a transcendent state, ready for ascension at any moment.

The Three Kings instinctively glanced at the willow branch in the white jade vase, feeling that this Daoist Sovereign looked strangely familiar.

“This is the Reincarnation Prison, a place of heavy karmic burden and suffering. I wonder why Daoist Sovereign Changfan has come?” The Wolf King, who handled external affairs, stepped forward.

“I have come abruptly to seek a favor. I hope the three Prison Governors will grant it.”

Inside the white jade vase, Yin Jiuruo was enveloped in the Demon Race’s spiritual power. The external wound at her heart felt slightly eased. She was facing the entrance; even without turning, she could see Fu Qing.

The Reincarnation Prison burned with blazing flames. Fu Qing’s skin and features were a transparent white and gold. Having not seen her for a few days, the woman’s expression had grown even fainter—like a still, ancient mirror, solemn and holy. Her white robes bloomed like Brahma flowers, noble and stainless.

Yin Jiuruo felt a fire ignite in her heart—so much hate, so much pain—but that fire only burned more desolately. What could she hate? What was she hurting for? Hating a liar? Hurting because she was deceived so thoroughly? Hating back and forth only became a waste of energy.

She bit her lip, vowing not to hate anymore. She would remember Fu Qing forever, but as one remembers a shame—to warn herself of her own stupidity.

Hatred cannot erase adoration; perhaps shame can.

Don’t take it seriously. Don’t take it seriously. Forget those ten-plus years of adoration and warmth.

Fu Qing… is a drifting cloud above the nine heavens, occasionally putting on a brilliant performance for the mortals. There wasn’t a shred of true emotion in her.

“Venerable One, you are about to ascend to Godhood. If there is something you cannot accomplish, how could we lowly governors possibly manage it?” The Wolf King made polite small talk, his words laced with sarcasm.

Perhaps sensing the resentment in his voice, Fu Qing’s gaze turned cold. She didn’t dwell on it. Her aura was heavy and weary, like a lonely night of thick frost and thin moonlight.

“Governors, this Sovereign wishes to take one person from the Reincarnation Prison. I hope you will assist me.”

“Daoist Sovereign, you know the rules. Those who have passed cannot be chased. The cycle of the Heavenly Dao has its reasons; acting against Heaven will surely invite tribulation.”

Fu Qing lowered her eyes and gave a soft laugh. “This Sovereign has refined a Life-Returning Pill. I only need to find her soul to bypass the rules of the Heavenly Dao.”

Hearing this, the Three Kings were astonished, further convinced that Fu Qing was a high-ranking being sent from the God Realm. She could even refine something that deceived the Heavens.

“May I ask who it is the Daoist Sovereign wishes to save?”

“My Dao companion, Yin Jiuruo. This Sovereign does not permit her to die.”

Those words again. Yin Jiuruo almost wanted to laugh out loud, her peach-blossom eyes turning red with hate. This woman was practiced at saying things that sounded deep and heartfelt, yet that heart was colder than ice.

It reminded her of the day she had been petty with Fu Qing because she was out traveling with Shen Cangli. When the sound transmission tube responses were slow, Yin Jiuruo had intentionally replied slowly too, not knowing that Fu Qing hadn’t cared at all.

Such a cold, heartless Sovereign whose only obsession was achieving her goals. To such a person, even cutting out your heart for her was useless.

No—it was useful. What Fu Qing had wanted was exactly that bloody, desperate, tragic heart of hers.

Therefore, Fu Qing’s phrasing was “does not permit her to die,” not “she cannot die.”

“Let me check the registers thoroughly for the Daoist Sovereign,” the Eagle King said, pretending to find the Reincarnation Register and flipping through it.

While he searched, Fu Qing’s gaze fell upon the long-necked white jade vase. She unconsciously stroked the Double Fish jade pendant and asked softly:

“What is this?”

The Whale King’s nerves were not strong; he broke into a sweat and said hurriedly: “Venerable One, this is just an ordinary willow branch. We three old fellows occasionally break a branch to enjoy some wine—it’s just for fun.”

“Is it?” Fu Qing’s fingers trembled slightly, as if she wanted to touch the fluttering leaves of the willow.

Yin Jiuruo watched coldly, hiding her shattered emotions.

“Aha!” The Eagle King timely diverted Fu Qing’s attention, walking over with the register to block the willow branch. “Daoist Sovereign, there is no name for your Dao companion on this Reincarnation Register.”

Fu Qing gripped the jade pendant tightly, her face calm.

The Whale King explained with forced composure: “Venerable One, the Reincarnation Register records the names of those who died unjustly. If the person you seek had their form and spirit extinguished, they are nowhere to be found.”

“Has she… already been reincarnated?” Fu Qing asked softly, looking at the blood-stained jade in her palm.

The Whale King frowned and whispered to the Wolf King: “Why doesn’t she understand? If someone’s spirit is extinguished, how can they be reincarnated? She’s acting strange.”

“That is not it,” the Wolf King emphasized. “Spirit extinguished, soul dispersed—reincarnation is impossible.”

“How can it… be so?” the woman murmured to herself, unwilling to accept it.

With the spiritual milk porridge protecting her heart meridians, how could Xiao Jiu dissipate so completely? Fu Qing could barely restrain herself; she wanted to perform a forbidden soul-summoning ritual right now. But the conditions for soul-summoning were harsh, and since she was not yet an Upper God, she had to endure.

“Perhaps the Daoist Sovereign is not yet clear: once dead, one cannot return. Sometimes, fate cannot be forced,” the Eagle King mocked from the side.

Seeing Fu Qing with her head lowered, her dark hair loose and her expression unreadable, the Whale King grew bold enough to take out a pink-colored volume and hand it to her.

“This is the secondary volume of the Reincarnation Register—the Register of Marriage, Life, and Death. It is unique to the Reincarnation Prison. You may look through it, Venerable One. Perhaps your worldly fate with your Dao companion is not yet over, and you may continue your bond in the next life.”

Fu Qing fixated her gaze on the Whale King for a long time, her scrutiny so intense it made his skin crawl. Eventually, she accepted the secondary volume and quickly located the page belonging to her and Yin Jiuruo.

There, in stark black and white, it was written: Fu Qing, Yin Jiuruo—Fate Ended.

Beside it was a small annotation: Hexagram Pi (Obstruction), Extreme Misfortune.

“I truly didn’t expect such a poor reading,” the Whale King remarked with feigned surprise. “It seems the Daoist Sovereign’s path of love is destined to be treacherous.”

“Venerable One, the fate has ended. Do not force what is gone,” the Eagle King added with a knowing smile. “Hexagram Pi is among the worst omens; it signifies that if these two are forcibly kept together, disaster will follow.”

“This Sovereign respects the Heavens and upholds the Heavens, but I do not believe in Fate,” Fu Qing replied with a flick of her sleeve, appearing entirely unaffected. “This is but a secondary register of marriage; the Old Man of the Moon’s primary register may not say the same.”

“Does the Daoist Sovereign not know that feelings and fate cannot be forced? You may not believe in Heaven, but you cannot disbelieve in Destiny. What is meant to be in your life will eventually come. Having cultivated for many years, you should understand that obsession easily births heart demons.”

“This Sovereign practices the Great Perfection of Emotionless Dao. My heart is stable; the idea of heart demons making trouble is sheer nonsense,” Fu Qing said, her gaze clear as she looked at the thin booklet.

The Whale King, however, lacked such a temperate disposition. Seeing Fu Qing’s calm and indifferent state, he questioned her loudly:

“I have already investigated what happened between you and your companion in the mortal world. After committing such a heartless act of severing love, how do you have the face… why do you still chase after her and refuse to let go?”

Facing the Whale King’s interrogation, Fu Qing’s expression remained composed. She half-lowered her eyelashes, her voice crystal clear. “Love and passion are also forms of cultivation. If she can perceive the truth through them, she will benefit greatly.”

Pain breaks her, blood corrodes her; if she gains enlightenment, it will ultimately fulfill her.

This was the Dao that Fu Qing had envisioned for Yin Jiuruo. She felt nothing improper about it.

“Heh, the Daoist Sovereign is far too self-righteous,” the Whale King sneered.

Fu Qing lowered her eyes, contemplating for a moment as she suppressed the surging emotions in her heart. She answered plainly:

“The suffering she has endured, I shall naturally do my utmost to compensate. From now on, I will protect and accompany her, and we shall never be separated again.”

Suppressing his rage, the Whale King retorted: “But your fate has ended. Perhaps the other party has no need for your so-called ‘compensation’.”

The Eagle King noticed that Yin Jiuruo’s spiritual energy within the willow branch was becoming unstable. Anxious, he quickly smiled and led Fu Qing toward the exit. “Venerable One, the Reincarnation Prison cannot help you. Perhaps you should ascend to Godhood first and then seek other methods.”

“If one becomes a God, one cannot casually interfere in mortal affairs. My thanks,” Fu Qing replied.

Returning the booklet to the Eagle King, her expression turned cold. With a wave of her hand, she siphoned a wisp of the “decaying power” from the prison and walked away, her pace quickening. The woman’s silhouette was noble and ethereal; she showed no sign of being trapped by love.

“May I ask the Daoist Sovereign—did you ever truly love your companion?” the Whale King called out, chasing her to the door. He didn’t even notice he had splashed tea all over himself.

A long silence followed. Outside the Reincarnation Prison, the rain pattered incessantly. The heavy humidity tightly enveloped Yin Jiuruo within the cave; she could almost smell the moss in the damp air. It mirrored her own cold, shattered state of mind.

After a long time, Fu Qing’s voice drifted back, cold and hesitant, as if the question were difficult to answer.

“This Sovereign… does not know.”

The Eagle King couldn’t help but sneer. He had thought the Daoist Sovereign was merely being stubborn, refusing to admit her feelings. He hadn’t expected that the blades of sorrow and love could not even graze this person’s skin.

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