The Frost Beneath Her Veil - Chapter 27.2

“If you do not love your companion, why search for her? It would be better to just part ways.”

“Must there be love?” Fu Qing sighed softly, her heart a barren wasteland.

The Eagle King and Whale King nearly exploded in fury, but the Wolf King, being more mature, held them back. They watched as Fu Qing walked out into the forest that was half-green and half-frozen before slowly returning to the cave.

“The Little Highness’s Love Tribulation was meant to be a necessary path, but to meet such a person…”

“A blessing in disguise; a disaster today may not be a bad thing in the future,” the Wolf King comforted the other two old men. “Besides, the Little Highness is still young. Everything will be fine.”

The three kings sighed simultaneously and performed a spell to release Yin Jiuruo from the willow branch.

Yin Jiuruo had heard Fu Qing’s words clearly. Her eyes were cold and dark as she staggered to a seat, her soul nearly transparent. Seeing her so wounded by emotion, the Three Kings were deeply worried. Not knowing how to comfort her, they simply draped a heavy beast-fur cloak over her to ward off the cold.

“Three uncles,” Yin Jiuruo’s breathing was labored, her delicate face so white it was translucent. She had to gasp for air after every few words.

The kings’ hearts were in their throats, but unexpectedly, Yin Jiuruo recovered quickly, a look of resolve in her peach-blossom eyes.

“Please teach me the specific cultivation methods of the Demon Race.”

“So soon?”

“The Demon Realm is weak. As the Young Master, the responsibility to revitalize our race is mine,” Yin Jiuruo said. She could feel the genuine care these three strangers-turned-elders had for her. Even if she weren’t their Young Master, she owed them for sheltering her and helping her deal with Fu Qing.

“Good, good. It’s enough that the Little Highness can pull herself together,” the Wolf King said, tears of relief in his eyes. He immediately sent a minor demon to fetch their collection of manuals.

While waiting for the demon to return, the Eagle King introduced the Demon Race’s cultivation style. The Demon Race governs Decay and Theft; they instinctively understand that all things begin and return to dust, giving them higher comprehension than other races. However, these powers require a vast amount of emotion as a catalyst—what they call “Sentiments.” Be it romantic love, kinship, friendship, or pity—any will do. Otherwise, a demon will be consumed and destroyed by the very powers of Decay and Theft they wield.

“Therefore, most of our kind are sentimental and easily hurt by love. We must pass through Love Tribulations. If you can heal your emotional wounds and let go of Daoist Sovereign Changfan, your cultivation will naturally reach Great Perfection.”

“You want me to use Fu Qing as my whetstone?” Yin Jiuruo’s lips curled into a sardonic smile.

“Exactly. The Sovereign is but one Love Tribulation in your life; it is no big deal,” the Eagle King smiled slyly. “But it is best if you do not mention her true name. She is close to the Heavenly Dao; if you speak of her, she may sense you. To speak is to be known.”

Yin Jiuruo was momentarily surprised, then calmed. Fu Qing’s Emotionless Dao was already at its peak, making her near-omniscient in the mortal realm; this was only natural.

When the manuals were placed before her, the Three Kings stopped her from looking just yet. They bashfully had the minor demon bring out something else.

“What is so important?”

The Whale King laughed heartily. “The Highness will know as soon as she sees.”

Lustrous drawing paper was spread across the stone table. The Whale King considerately brewed jasmine tea and served snacks.

“These are… portraits?” Yin Jiuruo was baffled. “They don’t look like mortals.”

“Indeed. This one is the Second Miss of the red-haired Feather Clan. That one with the tails is the Imperial Princess of the Qingqiu Nine-Tailed Fox Clan. This one with the Tengsnake mark on her brow is the Eldest Miss of the Sea Clan. However, the Princess of the Asura Clan is quite haughty; she said she must meet you in person and refused to provide a portrait.”

“Are these all allies of the Demon Realm?” Yin Jiuruo asked tentatively.

“You could say that, but a more accurate term is: Potential Marriage Candidates,” the Whale King sipped his tea. “Once your body is a bit better, you can visit them. If you take a liking to one and fall in love, we will form a solid marriage alliance with that clan.”

Marriage… Yin Jiuruo lowered her eyes, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. She hadn’t expected the Demon Realm to rely on marriage alliances to stabilize its status. Still, such an overt exchange of interests was better than a seemingly sincere deception.

“Actually, the previous Demon Sovereign wanted to arrange a childhood betrothal for you. But the situation was unstable then, and you were too young, so it was set aside.”

“You mean my mother… she loved me?”

“The Demon Sovereign loved you dearly, please believe that,” the Eagle King said, knowing Yin Jiuruo had grown up without unconditional warmth. “And we, along with the entire Demon Realm, love you—not just because you are the Young Master, but because you are one of us.”

“If you are willing, as early as tomorrow night, we can arrange for you to meet…” the Eagle King checked a schedule, smiling broadly. “…the Imperial Princess of the Nine-Tailed Fox Clan.”

“Nine-Tailed Fox? The kind that sucks out a person’s essence?” Yin Jiuruo asked. “That’s what the stories I heard as a child said.”

“The Fox Clan are all beautiful and seductive, a branch of the God Realm with great strength. Princess A-Yin is also lively and cheerful; traveling with her will surely make you happy.”

Yin Jiuruo nodded. It would be good to interact with outsiders. If she hadn’t regained her memories, she wouldn’t have known that for centuries, the only person she had deep contact with was Fu Qing—playing out that cliché of falling for the same person every time. Fu Qing must have felt quite secure, knowing Yin Jiuruo would fall for her again after every memory wipe.

“Remember to prepare a gift. This hairbrush is perfect.” The Eagle King handed her a jade hairpin carved in the shape of Linked Branches. It was exquisitely crafted, and the spiritual energy attached to it glowed faintly. “The Princess’s nickname is A-Yin; don’t get it wrong.”

Taking the hairpin, Yin Jiuruo gave a bitter smile. “I understand. I’ll present the gift as soon as we meet.”

Her tragic and shattered mood was temporarily broken. She forced herself not to think, not to remember. It would get better slowly; one taste of such soul-crushing events was enough. She would let go—for her own sake.

No matter how much she thought or said, no one could help her. She would treat those years of warmth, care, and intimacy as the payment Fu Qing gave for her heart. Now, they were even.

“I truly don’t understand that Daoist Sovereign,” the Whale King’s voice drifted over. “She doesn’t love the Little Highness, so why come here wanting to resurrect her?”

Yin Jiuruo’s lips curved slightly, and she murmured almost like she was talking in her sleep:

“The puppeteer’s most precious pawn has shattered; she naturally has to find a way to piece it back together.”

On Hexue Peak, the wind was howling. Because there was no spiritual barrier to protect them, the plum blossoms were blown across the ground, looking like blood melting into the snow. When Fu Qing returned, she forgot to use an umbrella; her cascading ink-black hair was covered in white snow.

She stood silently watching the red plums in the snow for a long time, not noticing the Sect Leader and Feng Qi had been waiting in the courtyard for quite some time.

“Venerable One, you went to the Reincarnation Prison?” The Sect Leader’s white beard fluttered in the wind, his voice full of surprise. The prison was filled with the power of Decay; even the God Realm disliked staying there. Seeing the decaying spiritual energy clinging to Fu Qing, he calculated that she must have stayed there for a long time, which likely damaged her constitution.

“Mhm. This Sovereign thought I could bring Xiao Jiu back.”

Seeing Fu Qing did not hide her intentions, the Sect Leader felt relieved. He thought she had finally moved past the emotions. “You sought to bring her back because you fear the seal on the demonic energy might have a loophole? The wretch’s body and blood are indeed treasures; it is safest if the Sovereign preserves them.”

“That is one reason,” Fu Qing looked at the emerald jade pendant in her palm; the specks of blood seemed to have embedded themselves into the stone.

“But she has already dispersed. She cannot enter reincarnation. Why waste your strength?”

“No,” Fu Qing closed her eyes, fine snow landing on her long lashes. “This Sovereign can sense that her soul has not scattered.”

The Sect Leader and Feng Qi were shocked. They didn’t understand how Fu Qing could possibly sense that. Yin Jiuruo was dead—her primordial spirit extinguished. It was impossible for a soul to still exist.

They wondered if the Sovereign was suffering from a deviation in her cultivation, but as they studied her, her robes were holy and her expression was calm; there was no sign of obsession.

Fu Qing ignored their shock and prepared to return to Linyue Residence alone. Feng Qi stood respectfully as she watched her leave, then suddenly said:

“Master, did you see the Sovereign’s eyes?”

“I will summon a healer to examine her,” the Sect Leader frowned. It was said the demonic energy of the Outer Lands was good at beguiling; perhaps she had sustained an undetectable hidden wound.

“It was a terrifying look,” Feng Qi felt cold sweat on her back; she couldn’t describe the sensation. “It was as if there were a fire burning inside ice.”

“Enough. Do not gossip about your elders. The wedding between Young Master Shen and the Sovereign is a once-in-a-century event. It must be handled with the utmost grandeur,” the Sect Leader said, thinking of the artifacts and talismans sent by the Ruyi Sect with satisfaction. “Help the sect prepare this wedding well; it is a virtuous deed.”

“Master, will the Sovereign truly marry Young Master Shen?” Feng Qi felt a strange emotion, not understanding why they were so certain.

“Naturally. Today, Young Master Shen came in person to tell me the Sovereign has agreed to the wedding date in three months. At that time, Young Master Shen will open a new grotto-heaven to live with the Sovereign, and they will ascend together.”

“Is that so…”

Feng Qi thought of the way Yin Jiuruo used to look at Fu Qing—like a green wild vine in a winter corner; small and damp, yet burning and devout. Now the vine was withered, and the person she gazed at was about to marry someone else. How ironic.

The Sect Leader paid no mind to Feng Qi’s thoughts, only looking toward the closed door of Linyue Residence with concern.

Inside Linyue Residence, the wooden window carved with begonias was wide open. Flying snow entered the room, looking like a sliver of the cold, bright moon. However, the parasol leaves outside had fallen, and the once lush green branches were now dry as stone.

When the crane boy brought fresh tea, it noticed Fu Qing’s desolate expression as she stared at the parasol tree. It stood at the door for a long time, but Fu Qing didn’t move, appearing as though her soul had left her body. It had to speak:

“Venerable One, the Little Master is gone. Without her spiritual energy to nourish it, the tree she planted herself has naturally withered.”

Fu Qing looked at the lifelike Yin Jiuruo in the ice coffin and said plainly:

“This Sovereign will make the parasol flowers bloom again.”

“Yes,” the crane boy answered. It lit the divine wood incense and slowly backed out. Through the crack in the door, it saw Fu Qing envelop the blood-stained jade pendant in spiritual energy, forcibly separating the drop of fresh blood and transforming it into red spider lilies that carpeted the area around the ice coffin.

That appeared to be an ancient soul-summoning ritual; it only required the decaying power from the Reincarnation Prison to have a life-restoring effect. The Sovereign went to the prison to bring back the power of Decay… The crane boy sighed inwardly but dared not disturb her further, quickly closing the door.

In the Reincarnation Prison, Yin Jiuruo was following the Kings’ instructions to draw out the innate power of Decay from her spiritual sea. Black mist spread through her spiritual aperture, and formless sentiments transformed into white smoke, helping the black mist solidify and progress.

Thanks to this Love Tribulation, she had gained much insight and sentiment, which aided her cultivation. Aside from not having a physical body and her soul being damaged, her cultivation was progressing well. It was a blessing in disguise.

After finishing her practice, it was time for the blind date the Three Kings had arranged. A room had been prepared for her in the prison, considerately filled with bright lamps. Though she was only a soul, she meticulously bathed, burned incense, and dressed, waiting for the Imperial Princess named A-Yin to arrive.

Before long, a minor demon came skipping in to tell her the Princess was almost there. “Little Highness, the Princess of the Nine-Tailed Fox Clan is here! Prepare yourself, and remember to give her the gift.”

Yin Jiuruo nodded and stood up, looking into a water mirror that could reflect a soul. The soul in the mirror was pale, with a high bridge of the nose, and the peach-blossom eyes were a bit dim. Fortunately, the melancholy air gave her a unique charm.

Outside the cave room, which was lined with blue-bird feathers, a tall, slender figure with black hair and red robes walked in, her nine tails swaying gracefully. As the light mist dissipated, the woman’s voice sounded soft and sweet.

“Are you Yin Jiuruo, the youngest child of the previous Demon Sovereign?”

“Mhm, it’s me. Hello, A-Yin.”

“Then do you remember when we were children and we climbed the trees in the Demon Realm together? You fell down and wailed your eyes out.”

Baffled by this overly familiar question, it took Yin Jiuruo a while to recover. “To be honest, I don’t really remember.”

“Seriously? Then what do you remember?” A-Yin pouted. She gradually saw Yin Jiuruo’s current state. She had been told the other was injured before coming, but she never expected the injuries to be this severe.

Yin Jiuruo gave a helpless smile. “My apologies. I have been away from the Demon Realm for too long; I have almost no memory of the past.”

“Hey, who exactly was it that hurt you?” A-Yin reached out to wave away the mist, her features carrying a sense of heroic spirit. “After all, you and I climbed the same tree; I have to look out for you.”

Yin Jiuruo couldn’t immediately adapt to A-Yin’s sudden display of loyalty. After a moment’s thought, she opened the crystal treasure box to present the gift first.

“A-Yin, this is a gift I prepared for you. See if you like it.”

She waited for a long time, but there was no response. Confused, she looked up, only to see a scene of endless falling snow.

It looked like the snow of Hexue Peak. In the distance was a brilliant plum forest, swirled with spiritual energy and blue mist, and a boundless sea of clouds.

And Fu Qing stood there on the snow, her silhouette thin, her robes catching the wind. Thin snow had settled on her thick, ink-black hair.

She saw the Linked Branches hairpin in Yin Jiuruo’s hand, her gaze turning icy and her voice low.

“Xiao Jiu, who is A-Yin?”

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