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On the night of her coming-of-age ceremony, He Chen accidentally discovered the secret that her Shijie, Wen Yingyi, was suffering from “Gu” poison—and in that same moment, she realized her own heart.
Unable to bear watching Wen Yingyi suffer day and night, He Chen endured countless hardships to eventually succeed as the Hall Master, all so she could treat Wen Yingyi’s poison. To her surprise, Wen Yingyi would endure until her lips bled rather than allow a single inch of intimacy. With slender fingers, Wen Yingyi pried He Chen’s pale wrists away, her eyes filled with anger and loathing.
“I never imagined that after raising you for fifteen years, I would raise such a shameless creature. You truly break my heart.”
But He Chen did not care. She broke into forbidden lands and studied forbidden books, eventually settling Wen Yingyi in the Spring Hall, visiting her every night to soothe her discomfort. Before long, rumors spread throughout the sect: they said He Chen had long lusted after Wen Yingyi and, failing to force her hand, had resorted to house arrest.
Just when He Chen believed Wen Yingyi was starting to accept her, Wen Yingyi turned cold and heartless. After they shared a beautiful night together, Wen Yingyi resolved to leave and fulfill a childhood betrothal.
Fine, you want to get married? Then get married.
Wen Yingyi never expected that the little Shimei she raised would harbor such “indecent” thoughts about her, nor did she expect that her own unwavering heart would falter. She thought that by treating her with cold words and distance, she could cool their mutual fire. Unexpectedly, she still “capsized in a dark ditch” (fell into the trap).
Every time night fell, that voice would come from outside the door: “Shijie, open the door. I’m here to treat your Gu poison again.”
With unsteady breath, Wen Yingyi replied: “The Gu poison loves the cold and fears heat. If Shimei clings so tightly, won’t you wake it up?”
He Chen pulled her even closer, her hand circling over Wen Yingyi’s heart: “No, it likes this. Why would it cause trouble if it’s happy?”
Wen Yingyi was confused. Though He Chen’s methods were strange, they were undeniably effective. Gradually, she lost her reason and allowed herself to be manipulated, longing for that knock on her door every night.
But the good times didn’t last. On the day the bad news arrived, she stayed awake all night, unable to find a way to satisfy both duty and desire. “Must you go through with this marriage?” Facing He Chen’s interrogation, Wen Yingyi remained silent—a silent admission.
When they met again, it was on the wedding night. He Chen arrived dressed in wedding finery, a slight smirk on her lips.
“Why didn’t you send me a wedding invitation?”
“Or did Shijie already know I would come to marry you in person?”
He Chen gave Wen Yingyi no chance to reply. She pressed down upon her, her words of sovereignty hidden between their lips. “I’ve come to take back everything that belongs to me… including you.”
They accompanied each other day and night for over a decade. Drowned in sect rules, the commands of elders, and their own swaying bodies. A forbidden love they dared not touch, encased in layers of invisible shackles. It was a love of endurance and restraint.
At some unknown point, every “impossible” found a suitable excuse. A small courtyard by the cliff, a plummeting waterfall—these things hid the “unspeakable.” Those intimate touches were forbidden fears, a thirst for survival, and the escape of logic. With a tacit understanding, they wove a beautiful dream together.
