Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Once Shen Xiyin had recovered a little, she hurriedly left the grove where Pei Su was.

The quickening drip in her ears made her heartbeat race along with it. In the still night, each drop pounded against her heart, unsettling and relentless.

Leaning against a large rock by the stream, the prompt for the second Trial of Passion echoed repeatedly in her mind. Tormented all night until dawn broke, she was completely drained, her eyelids grew heavy and her mind went fuzzy.

In her dream, she saw a hand with prominent knuckles start the trial.

Her hands were tied to a tree trunk, unable to break free, forced to watch the hand approach her.

Her breath quickened, and she turned away, not wanting to see it, but the hand gently turned her face back, forcing her to face it.

His index finger traced from her chin, barely grazing, up to her lips, red from biting.

The finger slowly traced the shape of her lips, exploring every line and crease, lingering especially on the peak of her lip.

Shen Xiyin’s back was pressed against the tree trunk, with nowhere to go, reduced to trembling breaths by the tormenting movements.

“Don’t…” she breathed, and as she spoke, his long finger slid into her mouth. The sudden move startled her, making her entire body jolt.

She could clearly feel the coolness of his finger, like jade slipping into warm water, stirring a still pool.

Shen Xiyin tilted her head back, tears welling in her eyes…

Soon, she woke from the unbearable dream, gasping. For a long time, her tongue still felt numb.

Once she came to her senses, she instinctively touched her neck. Finding only sweat, nothing else, and seeing her clothes still fastened tight, not like in the dream, she let out a long, relieved sigh.

Shen Xiyin walked to the stream, hoping to wash away her discomfort. As she started to undo her long skirt, her hand suddenly stopped, realizing the dream had ended at this exact moment.

She shook her head, refusing to think about it, and plunged into the stream.

By the stream, she had set up a new fence of branches and bark to shield her body, in case the Elder followed the miasma and saw something he shouldn’t, like last time.

The cold, clear stream washed away the sweat but not the shock in her heart.

Shen Xiyin clearly remembered the hand from her dream—long, with prominent knuckles, clean, trimmed nails, and calluses on the palm from years of sword training.

But it wasn’t her husband’s hand.

Shen Xiyin closed her eyes, wanting to forget it all, but she couldn’t.

Maybe because her mind was disturbed, the drip in her ears seemed to speed up.

This couldn’t go on. How could she let what happened in the dream become real? How could she stand such humiliation?

At that moment, she was about to give in.

If she had to pass the trial, she’d choose a dignified way before being forced.

Shen Xiyin dressed, tightened her sash, took a deep breath, and followed the miasma into the woods.

She soon saw the Elder.

They met across a thicket, tangled branches and leaves between them. The clear sunlight filtered through the green canopy, lighting up even the dust in the air.

Whether this meeting was an accident or on purpose wasn’t hard to tell.

Pei Su’s eyes darkened as he rubbed the hilt of his sword with his thumb—a habit when facing an enemy.

Shen Xiyin stood to one side of the thicket, facing him from the side.

Some things needed no words. What she could think of, he surely could too. She bit her lip and said nothing. He stood in silence as well.

Their mutual, knowing silence felt like a silent contest, or like they were suppressing something about to break through the surface.

Shen Xiyin’s gaze drifted, seemingly aimlessly, through the tangled branches to the hand holding the sword.

That hand was exactly as in her dream, even the calluses in the same spots.

When had she memorized his hand so clearly?

Was it during their first meeting in the stone chamber, when the flame at his fingertips was the only light, forcing her attention onto that hand? Or during the forced execution of the first trial, when his hand was too close for her not to see? Or at some other time…

She did not know, nor dared to think deeply.

She was ill. Even though she had never intended to disrespect the Elder, her body’s memory had slipped from her will.

Shen Xiyin lowered her eyes, nervously pinching her palm with her fingertips.

Even though she quickly averted her gaze from his hand on the sword, he keenly noticed that meaningful look.

Such scrutiny displeased him.

“What are you looking at?” His voice came from beyond the tangled thicket.

Shen Xiyin’s mind was in turmoil, and his sudden voice startled her. Flustered, she replied, “I’m… looking at your sword.”

Pei Su’s tone was skeptical: “Sword?”

She was not a cultivator of the mystic arts and could barely even hold a sword—why would she be interested in his?

Shen Xiyin was not good at lying. Her hands tightly gripped her skirt as she answered, her voice light and trembling: “Yes…”

Pei Su could hear the panic in her voice. He initially intended not to expose her and spare her further embarrassment, turning to leave. But then he sensed a familiar, faint aura emanating from her, and he stopped.

He turned to face her and said solemnly, “This sword is named ‘Shouxin’—to guard the heart, meaning not to be swayed by external things, not to be moved by desire, and to hold fast to one’s true nature. I was raised from childhood with the family precept that one should stand upright and not be forced to compromise by external forces. What do you think, Mrs. Xu?”

Shen Xiyin was stunned for a moment, quickly grasping the implication of his words. The sunlight cast a shadow under her lowered lashes. She was silent for a long time, her lips parting and closing repeatedly, as her fragile pride wavered. Finally, she answered him.

“It should be so.”

Hearing her reply, Pei Su said no more and walked away.

Shen Xiyin watched his retreating figure and clenched her fists.

A man as unbending as he would not choose to yield. It was in his family precepts and in his heart. His pride would not allow him to bow so easily.

And what about her? Was she willing to be forced by the Corrupt Array to abandon her principles and the beliefs she held dear?

Shen Xiyin was certain she was not.

Once you yield, it happens again and again. Compromise only erodes your boundaries step by step.

Before Pei Su had gone far, her voice, soft but firm, came from behind.

“Your family precept—my husband has told me about it. I won’t forget.”

"Please rest assured."

Pei Su paused mid-step. For a moment, he couldn't tell whether she meant to assure him that she wouldn't cross boundaries and provoke him, or to remind him that she was another man's wife.

His thoughts deepened as he tried to recall clues about the husband she mentioned from his memory.

After a moment of quiet reflection, he only remembered that the man had a decent appearance and seemed young and successful, but he had no strong impression of him. He never bothered with people or matters of no significance.

Her husband wasn't important enough to warrant his attention.

Though he didn't know the man, he had heard something of the affairs in the mystical sects. He vaguely recalled a rumor about a certain sect leader who, falling in love with a village woman, insisted on marrying her despite his sect's opposition.

Such matters were rare in the cultivation world, so many had gossiped about it, remarking on the deep affection between the couple.

But what did that have to do with him, anyway?

Pei Su let out a faint scoff and brushed it off. Solving the array was what mattered; he really shouldn't waste any more time on useless things.

At noon, he encountered Madam Xu again in the dense forest. She was bent over, gathering firewood among the trees, busying herself as always, seemingly unaffected by the morning's incident.

Shen Xiyin, having collected enough firewood for the day, looked up and saw Pei Su. She didn't react much, just walked right past him.

Pei Su suddenly got the feeling that she wasn't as weak and timid as she looked.

He quickly averted his gaze. If things went smoothly, he might find the barrier's general location by tomorrow's sunset.

The sound of a water clock quickened in his ears.

Pei Su's heart sank. He hoped the time effect would last a little longer. Based on the pattern of the accelerating time limit, he had carefully calculated that, under normal circumstances, it should.

But the Mind-Trapping Array didn't care about what people wanted. The closer hope seemed, the faster it shattered.

Almost the moment this thought crossed his mind, a grating prompt, like a rusty mechanism, rang in his ears—

"Time's up. Forcing the next stage."

It coldly and mercilessly announced the end of this struggle.