TDSDE 38

38. Try Me, Then [extra]

The Demonic Sect had one sect leader, two protectors, and four hall masters. Among these pillars of power, only the Vermillon Bird Hall Master was a woman.

No matter the era, it always seemed women had to stand a step behind men. The martial world of Dajing was no exception to this rule.

Su Wusi was a woman—and a stunning one at that. That meant most people noticed her beauty first, then her gender, and only afterward saw her as a person. More often than not, they even forgot that she was the Vermillon Bird Hall Master of the Demonic Sect.

Though the Demonic Sect wasn’t as villainous as those tales in street-side storybooks made it out to be, the fact that they stood atop the demonic path meant that none within were easy to trifle with.

When Su Wusi emerged from the Hall of Punishment, there was still blood on her face—bright red, like a transparent veil studded with ruby beads.

The Black Tortoise Hall Master, who had stood by the door watching the entire interrogation, handed her a handkerchief. “Still not interested in switching places with me?”

Su Wusi was clever and precise. Whenever the Black Tortoise Hall encountered a particularly tough case, its master, Gongsun Chou, would go looking for her help.

It wasn’t that Gongsun Chou couldn’t handle the job—he just had a bad habit of going too far, which sometimes caused unnecessary trouble.

After all, they were a demonic sect, not literal demons. The martial world was, at its core, just people playing games with each other. No need to push things to the point of life and death.

It wasn’t uncommon for Su Wusi to lend a hand in the Black Tortoise Hall. This was Gongsun Chou’s fifteenth time suggesting they trade positions.

Su Wusi shot him a sideways glance. “Why are you so damn naggy?”

The truth was, the sect had originally intended for Su Wusi to lead the Black Tortoise Hall. But she claimed the Hall of Punishment was too dull and went to Vermillon Bird Hall instead. No matter how many times Gongsun Chou brought it up, she never agreed.

She wiped the blood off her face and stepped out of the hall. But instead of returning to her quarters, she headed into the forest behind the mountain.

Legend had it that on the western side of Dajing there had once been a mysterious ancient kingdom. That kingdom worshiped a deity shaped like a spider. Every citizen offered prayers to stone-carved idols of the god with devout sincerity.

No one knew if the tale was true, but people in the sect occasionally found shrines in the mountains—weathered altars with vague, featureless statues. Eerie, hidden things. Everyone avoided them by instinct.

Su Wusi didn’t care much about superstition. In fact, there were very few people or things in the world that she cared about at all.

Only she and the Sect Master knew the real reason she hadn’t taken over Black Tortoise Hall. It wasn’t boredom. Years ago, she’d made a mistake during training—ever since, the sight of blood made her ill. Only soaking in cold water for half an hour could settle her nerves.

Following her usual routine, she headed toward the cold pool in the mountain to wash and recover. But this time, just as she approached the water, she spotted a boy.

The boy’s face was ruined—horrific under the moonlight. Even Su Wusi felt a chill run down her spine.

Startled by the sound she made, the boy turned. Their eyes met, and the boy looked just like a terrified fawn. He grabbed something from beside him and turned to flee.

But the forest was dense, and the boy seemed injured. He stumbled and fell, flinging the item in his hand forward.

It struck Su Wusi’s foot—just a wooden mask, crudely carved, the edges rough enough to prick the skin.

By the time she looked up, the boy was gone. All that remained was the mask in her hand and the echo of his retreat.

Su Wusi had once had a younger brother. He’d been born weak, and at three years old, had coughed blood before her eyes—and then, slowly, stopped breathing.

More than twenty years had passed, yet she still remembered the feeling of that tiny hand going cold in hers.

That boy’s icy fingertips had felt just the same.

From then on, she waited by the pool every day. And every day, she returned. Two months passed this way.

Then one day, she looked to her side and saw the boy sitting a meter away, quietly eating a honey-glazed corn cake. For some reason, she suddenly felt like she was feeding a small animal.

The boy rarely spoke. So she filled the silence with stories—tales of what she’d seen and heard over the years. When she mentioned something cruel or unjust and stole a glance at him, she’d catch him clenching his fists and biting his lip. It gave her a strange sense of satisfaction.

That’s how a child should be, she thought. Able to feel joy, anger, sorrow. Not like before… a lifeless husk.

Time passed. With the Azure Dragon Hall Master’s medical skill, the boy’s face—once reduced to nothing but bone—began to heal.

Su Wusi exclaimed, “You know, you’re actually pretty handsome.”

The boy didn’t reply. He just silently picked up his smooth, polished mask and covered his face.

She was used to his silence. She was about to shift the topic, as usual, when he suddenly held out a sandalwood box.

Stunned, Su Wusi accepted it.

Then she heard his voice—quiet, cracked, as if unused to speaking. A bit hoarse, a bit broken. Somewhere between a child’s and a young man’s.

“Thank you… for talking to me.”

Her eyes welled with tears.

Inside the box was a delicate porcelain jar. Even unopened, it gave off the faint scent of flowers. But when she finally saw what it was, Su Wusi went from teary to speechless in an instant.

“Who told you to give me lip rouge?”

Her lashes were still damp, and her voice was soft. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it. But next time, don’t just give things like this away.”

When the boy learned what it meant to gift cosmetics to a woman, he nearly combusted.

TN: In ancient China, giving a girl cosmetics like face powder, rouge, or eyebrow ink, was a romantic or intimate gesture. 

Mortified, he curled into a ball, wishing he could disappear.

The “culprit,” Azure Dragon Hall Master, only shrugged helplessly. “Hey, you asked what you could give a girl to make her happy. I thought you were sweet on someone!”

Elsewhere in the sect, Su Wusi was testing that same lip color. Crimson, bold. In the mirror, she found it surprisingly striking.

So the next day, the always-all-black Vermillon Bird Hall Master stepped out in red robes and ruby lips, blazing like fire under the sun—impossible to look away from.

In the mortal world, people will always talk. Su Wusi, too bold and too unique, naturally drew envy.

They saw only that she was a woman. Never that she was a warrior.

And a woman’s reputation, they thought, was her greatest treasure. So rumors spread.

Su Wusi only laughed.

Afraid of blood? Slept her way to power?

She stomped the slanderers into the dirt, lips curled in a smile but eyes cold as frost.

“This dress of mine is dyed in blood. You’d best remember that.”

Bai Yuanxiu, who had been quietly following behind, slowly turned his head after witnessing the scene. “This is the ‘gentle elder sister’ you spoke of?”

Xiao Qing: “…Mm.”

Bai Yuanxiu silently looked away. Originally, they had worried Su Wusi might have been ambushed and injured, but now it seemed that Zhou Xiaoxiao had managed to kidnap her only by the grace of divine intervention.

Bai Yuanxiu and Xiao Qing had stopped by Wu’Ai town on their way elsewhere. They had just seen that fierce, staff-wielding woman training with unstoppable momentum.

As they marveled at how completely different she looked from the devastated figure weeping by the river not long ago, they suddenly heard a commotion from the street. Tilting their ears, they realized someone was looking to cause trouble for the Demonic Sect’s Vermilion Bird Hall Master.

Now certain that Su Wusi was unharmed, Bai Yuanxiu and Xiao Qing resumed their journey.

They rode on horseback, and when they passed a familiar stretch of scenery, Bai Yuanxiu suddenly remembered the first time he and Xiao Qing had quarreled.

Back then, the two had feelings for each other, but hadn’t yet made anything clear. Wanting to maintain his image as a chivalrous hero, Bai Yuanxiu had caught a few thieves nearby and planned to hand them over to the authorities. Unexpectedly, Xiao Qing blurted out, “That’s it?”

Xiao Qing had spoken without thinking and made up an excuse to smooth things over, while Bai Yuanxiu, taking it as a joke, teased him about being so fierce and scary.

Bai Yuanxiu had only meant to play around, but Xiao Qing had truly gotten upset—and didn’t speak to him for several days.

Thankfully, Bai Yuanxiu had realized he’d said the wrong thing. To make amends, he didn’t care about pride or embarrassment and said all kinds of things he’d normally never say. If he hadn’t done that…

Just remembering it made Bai Yuanxiu feel a headache coming on.

Du Gujue’s teachings had twisted Xiao Qing’s values since childhood, and after being brought into the Demonic Sect, he’d raced straight down the crooked path.

Not long ago, on the night of their wedding, Xiao Qing had been coaxed into drinking by the others in the sect. Once drunk, he stumbled into their room, pulled out a rope from who-knows-where, and tied Bai Yuanxiu up in the blink of an eye with the skill of an expert.

Still dazed from being tied up, Bai Yuanxiu barely had time to react before Xiao Qing drunkenly clung to him, mumbling all sorts of terrifying things. But with his flushed cheeks and slurred, sticky voice, Bai Yuanxiu was overwhelmed with affection—he’d never seen anything cuter.

After that night, Bai Yuanxiu finally realized that Xiao Qing was not nearly as calm and composed as he appeared on the surface.

Come to think of it, ever since their identities had been exposed, Xiao Qing had never once openly spoken from the heart.

Recalling Xiao Qing’s drunken, pitiful expression, Bai Yuanxiu’s heart softened.

A few days later, under the night sky, Bai Yuanxiu tentatively spoke up: “You… you said you really wanted to lock me up, right? So… how about trying it today?”

Xiao Qing’s expression froze for a moment, then lit up like a cat who’d just seen a fish. His eyes practically sparkled as he stared at Bai Yuanxiu.

Bai Yuanxiu instantly panicked. “Forget it. Pretend I didn’t say anything.”

Xiao Qing: “Liar.”

Bai Yuanxiu: !?

An hour later, Bai Yuanxiu’s eldest brother, who was discussing court affairs with the Guan family, climbed onto the wall and yelled toward the neighboring courtyard, “Stop fighting in the middle of the night! You broke the courtyard last month, and we just fixed it. There’s no money left!”

Hearing his brother’s voice, Bai Yuanxiu, completely aggrieved, cried out, “We weren’t even fighting today!”

In the dark, Xiao Qing clamped a hand over his mouth. His smooth hair flowed behind him like rippling waves on a black sea.

It should’ve been a beautiful sight—but Xiao Qing’s tear-glossed eyes stared unblinking at Bai Yuanxiu with such eerie intensity that it was unnerving.

The wind blew the clouds apart, and as the moonlight, soft as gauze, filtered through, that strange look was fully exposed to Bai Yuanxiu.

Realizing he’d slipped up, Xiao Qing panicked. He was just about to lean down and kiss Bai Yuanxiu to distract him, when he suddenly heard a quiet laugh.

With his wrists bound, Bai Yuanxiu could only lift the back of his hand to gently brush Xiao Qing’s cheek, intimate and tender. “If you want to look, then look. I don’t mind.”

And so, under the hazy moonlight, hearts aligned, everything was just right.