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I curled up on the Xuan Bing Couch, the burning pain beneath my collarbone from the Puppet still lingering. The dark red stains on the Rhinoceros Horn Comb glimmered coldly under the moonlight, reminding me of last night when he gripped my nape, the sensation of dragon scales crawling up my neck—like a venomous snake slithering through the snow.
The bronze mirror reflected the unhealed bite marks on my neck, remnants from three months ago during our Wedding Night. At that time, I wore the wedding gown woven from thousand-year-old ice silkworm silk by my mother, while my Palm clutched the Marriage Contract jade slip that could resolve the crisis at the Immortal Gate.
But as the celebratory candles burned down to their third inch, Xuan Yu suddenly erupted with Xuan color dragon shadows, forcefully flipping me onto the gilded makeup table. “Don’t use your Linghuan Fairy Realm’s seductive tricks,” he crushed the He Huan bell that adorned my hair, shards of the bell cutting into my Fingertip and splattering droplets of Blood Plum onto the gauzy curtain. “Do you see this dragon pattern?” He tore open my Xuan color wedding dress to reveal the Heart’s reverse scale. “Wang Xuan touched this spot back in the day; later, her fox tail was personally excised by me and refined into Puppet silk.”
Suddenly, the Rhinoceros Horn Comb emitted a buzzing sound, pulling me back from my memories. A waft of Azure Bamboo Fragrance drifted in from outside, mingling with Wang Xuan’s unique concoction of mandrake scent—that was the fragrance of incense from Xuan Yu’s chamber, yet it wafted in from the southeast corner of the Starry Pavilion.
I grasped Lapels and rolled off the bed. The Puppet silk tightened abruptly with my vigorous movements, leaving spiderweb-like blood marks on my chest. “Is Madam looking for this?” Xuan Yu’s voice wrapped around me like Frost and Snow crashing through a Window Lattice, as a half-broken sword clattered at my feet, entangled in his Xuan color robe.
It was a fragment of Yang Lin’s silver bamboo flute, its blade still stained with specks of icy blue dragon blood. “Your old lover is quite infatuated; how dare he use the star map from Nine Nether Cave to spy on Xuanjie’s Restriction?”
His Palm and Blood Curse suddenly glowed brightly, and I felt my Heart dragon soul pearl respond with a burst of Azure Glow. In excruciating pain, I stumbled to support myself against the makeup table. The bronze mirror reflected his collar adorned with Xuan Bing sword tassels—identical to the one Wang Xuan had in her hair—now hooked onto a half-bloodied Tongxin Pendant.
“Xuan Yu…” I swallowed down the metallic sweetness in my throat; the Puppet silk’s silver patterns had already spread to behind my ears. “Did you go to Starry Pavilion last night because Wang Xuan’s Tongxin Pendant sensed Yang Lin’s Jade Pendant?”
He suddenly seized my jaw, dragon breath sweeping over the silver patterns pulsing beneath my collarbone. “Madam's cauldron must become even wiser.” His Fingertip traced over the Heart dragon pearl, stirring up a cascade of ice crystals that fell to the ground and transformed into mandrake petals. “Three days from now on Lunar Eclipse Night, remember to summon back your Immortal Butterfly nurtured in your spirit platform—Wang Xuan loved using butterfly souls to refine enchanting scents.”
As deeper night fell and I was tormented by Puppet silk, sleep eluded me. From beneath the makeup box came a sound transmission shell left by my mother; yet, the frost coating its surface was three inches thicker than on my wedding day—perhaps the last barrier of the Immortal Gate would not hold for ten more days.
As I brushed my Fingertip over its surface, Xuan Yu’s words from earlier suddenly exploded in my ears. Trembling, I unfastened my sleeping robe; in the bronze mirror, the Heart dragon pearl emitted an eerie Purple Light while entwined around it were Blood Contract patterns… that matched perfectly with Yang Lin’s shattered Jade Pendant patterns today.
“It can’t be…” I grabbed the Rhinoceros Horn Comb and fiercely dragged it across my Wrist; where my spiritual blood dripped, Wang Xuan’s Ice Lotus spell emerged. The dried blood stains between its teeth writhed as if resurrected by blood, sketching out a formation map of Starry Pavilion on the makeup table's surface—that was unmistakably another half of Nine Nether Cave's twin formation!
Suddenly, blinding moonlight pierced through outside, stinging my eyes. I fumbled to pull down the gauzy curtain to cover the mirror's surface.
When my fingertip brushed against a spirit illusion talisman hidden under my pillow, memories of my mother’s parting advice surged back with a bloody scent: “Yao’er, if Xuanjie’s cold air invades your spirit veins, seek…”
The sudden burst of Azure Light from the dressing table shattered my memories. The Dragon Soul Pearl spun wildly under the moonlight, but the essence floating within was not my spirit; instead, it was the primordial spirit of a red fox, pierced by a dark iron chain—Wang Xuan was mocking me from twenty years in the past, her claws entwined with the Puppet thread that was shockingly tied to Yang Lin's shattered Jade Pendant.
The red fox in the bronze mirror suddenly bared its fangs, and as I stumbled back, I knocked over the makeup box. A silk handkerchief made of ice silkworm threads, wrapped around the spiritual talisman given to me by my mother, rolled out. The edges of the talisman were singed and curled—evidence of a forceful breach through the Xuanjie barrier three days ago.
As my fingertip touched the talisman, Wang Xuan's cold laughter transformed into a piercing shriek. I seized the Rhinoceros Horn Comb and pierced my palm, letting my spiritual blood drip onto the talisman to ignite Azure Flame: "With heaven and earth as guides, let the mist part!" The Puppet thread branded on my wrist suddenly tightened but could not withstand the seven-colored Lustreflow that erupted from the talisman.
As I slipped into the void, the Dragon Soul Pearl let out a mournful cry within my chest. Countless fragments of memories surged from all directions: my mother’s trembling hands as she styled my hair on the day of my wedding, the ice silkworm wedding gown wrapped in a nine-layer barrier; Yang Lin crafting a flute from branches in the peach grove at the celestial gate, promising to exchange his Nine Nether Cave star map for my freedom; and Wang Xuan—her true form as a red fox pierced through the throat by a dark iron chain bore an uncanny resemblance to Xuan Yu’s Heart’s reverse scale scar.
"You are nothing but a vessel," Xuan Yu's voice suddenly echoed within the mist. The dragon shadow of Xuan color coiled above my spiritual platform. "Wang Xuan's fox soul, Yang Lin's star map, and your mother's ice silkworm threads..." The dragon claw pressed against the Heart Dragon Pearl, an icy chill freezing my escape technique. "The Reflection Mirror of Linghuan Xian Pavilion cannot reveal the true heart of a Substitute Bride."
I bit through Tip of the Tongue and spat blood mist towards the dragon shadow; Puppet threads twisted in my throat, extracting a sweet metallic taste: "If Immortal Sovereign sees me merely as a furnace for refining Puppet threads, why concern yourself with illusions in mirrors?" Suddenly, ice silkworm threads flew from my sleeve and ensnared the dragon horn; within them, my mother’s sealed spiritual butterfly essence awakened abruptly. "Just as you used Wang Xuan's fox tail to refine threads and Yang Lin's Jade Pendant to mend formations—"
As the dragon's roar shattered memory fragments, I fell onto jade steps illuminated by dancing fireflies. Moon-white mist rose beneath me, and a nine-layered golden pavilion floated amidst a vast star map, with copper bells at its eaves swaying with eternal spiritual mist.
This is Linghuan Xian Pavilion, recorded in celestial texts as "the place where three thousand delusions return to one purity."
Just as my fingertip touched the cool jade steps, the Puppet thread on my wrist suddenly emitted a scorching red light. I looked down to see that its other end had vanished into nothingness—Xuan Yu was tracking my location through Blood Contract.
From deep within the pavilion came the clear sound of bells; countless water mirrors emerged from the mist, each reflecting overlapping figures: Wang Xuan wielding her sword against Xuan Yu Lapels, Yang Lin playing his flute in Starry Pavilion, and me kneeling in Xuanbing Palace, wiping away dragon blood.
"What kind of celestial melody does the young lady seek?" An aged voice came from above. I looked up to see a Maiden sitting atop the eaves of the pavilion, weaving flower ropes. Her silver bells matched those left by my mother’s sound transmission patterns, yet her skirt was embroidered with Wang Xuan's unique Ice Lotus spell.
I steadied myself against the frantic beating of my Dragon Soul Pearl and bowed: "I seek a spiritual mist that can quell Heart Demon."
The Maiden suddenly leaped down from the eaves and transformed into an old woman leaning on a coiled dragon staff. Her withered fingers traced over the Puppet thread beneath my collarbone; her murky eyes reflected the struggling red fox within the dragon pearl: "Xuan Bing furnace fire turns longing to ash. What exactly do you wish to quell—the heart-devouring curse planted by Dragon Sovereign or your own flickering glazed lamp?"
Suddenly, a fierce wind swept through the pavilion, shattering countless water mirrors.
The old woman's Panlong staff struck the ground, and instead of blood, a mystical seven-colored flowing sand emerged from the cracks. The grains of sand began to gather into a star map, and I was horrified to discover that it revealed the eye of the protective mountain formation of the celestial gate—at that moment entwined with the spiritual energy originating from the Puppet silk.
"How could you have..." I hurriedly reached for the communication shell at my waist, only to find that its surface had been covered in dragon scale patterns without my noticing.
The old woman's laughter mingled with the sound of chimes, echoing within the pavilion as her hunched figure gradually faded into the mist. Only her final warning lingered in the flowing sand: "The Light Mirror is on the top floor, but what you see in the mirror must be exchanged for something of equal value—such as ice silkworm silk dyed red with Heart's Blood, or butterfly wings formed from twenty years of life essence."
Suddenly, a tearing pain shot through my wrist where the Puppet silk was bound. I looked up to see the star map on the dome being eroded by Xuan color's dragon breath.
A spiritual butterfly formed at my fingertip was about to fly toward the top floor when a weak call from my mother came through the communication shell in my sleeve. The voice had become fragmented as it passed through the celestial pavilion's barrier, yet I could still make out her last few words: "…don't touch the Light Mirror…Wang Xuan back then…"
Outside the pavilion, thunder split the spiritual mist, and torrential rain accompanied by dragon roars shattered the Liuli Window. I gazed at my palm, where the celestial talisman flickered with Thunderlight's light and shadow, suddenly noticing that on the back of the talisman appeared Yang Lin's handwriting—the character "prison," written with Nine Nether Cave Star Sand, was now being devoured in half by Blood Contract patterns.
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