Chapter 5: The Golden Cage and a Timid Visitor

“House arrest.

If one were to pinpoint the exact term for Shen Zhaoqing’s current circumstances, these two words would be undeniably accurate.

It was, moreover, a VIP, deluxe version, complete with round-the-clock one-on-one surveillance and a strict prohibition on alcohol.

Ever since Grand Sword Immortal Gu Chang’an had ‘rescued’ her and brought her back to Shuangming Abode, Shen Zhaoqing had been living a ‘disciplined’ life—one three hundred times more stringent than the behavioral codes for Qingyun Sect’s outer disciples.

A meticulous schedule, personally drafted by Grand Sword Immortal Gu, was affixed to Shen Zhaoqing’s bedside with a faint wisp of sword qi, proving a thousand times more effective than any alarm clock.

[Mao Shi (5-7 AM): Wake up, meditate for half an *shichen*.]

Every day, before dawn had fully broken, Shen Zhaoqing was dragged from her warm covers and pressed onto a cold meditation mat, much like a steamed bun.

Then, wearing a face utterly devoid of the will to live, she would face the colossal human-shaped refrigeration unit behind her, attempting to inhale and exhale.

She inhaled the crisp morning breeze from Qingyun Sect’s peak, only to exhale a silent indictment of the Grand Sword Immortal’s exploitation of her remaining vitality.

Gu Chang’an would sit cross-legged behind her, under the pretense of ‘guarding her cultivation,’ yet her frigid aura felt precisely like a super-powered air conditioner set to maximum chill, constantly burrowing into the nape of Shen Zhaoqing’s neck.

Shen Zhaoqing gravely suspected that if this continued, she would eventually be frozen to the point of a nervous breakdown.

[Chen Shi (7-9 AM): Practice swordsmanship for one *shichen*.]

Once the meditation concluded, it was time for sword practice.

Gu Chang’an produced an unsharpened iron sword from an unknown source, and thus began her merciless and inhumane teaching regimen.

“Your wrist must be steady.”

“Your strike must be swift.”

“Your waist, straighten it!”

Gu Chang’an’s voice remained perpetually cold, but her hands were not.

When those hands, with their distinct knuckles, accustomed to wielding a sword, yet possessing a subtle chill, closed over Shen Zhaoqing’s hand, forcefully adjusting her grip on the sword, and then ascended to her waist, Shen Zhaoqing felt half her body go numb.

She could distinctly feel a barely perceptible pause in Gu Chang’an’s breathing whenever they touched. A flicker of satisfaction, yet also a hint of restraint, would always cross her eyes.

A realization dawned on Shen Zhaoqing.

‘She wasn’t here to learn swordsmanship at all; she was, plainly, a human-shaped power bank.’

‘This aloof senior sister had merely kept her captive, coming at fixed times each day to ‘siphon’ a bit of life essence to prolong her own.’

[Si Shi (9-11 AM): Read scriptures for half an *shichen*.]

After sword practice, there was scripture reading.

And it was the very same introductory volume of the *Sword Art of Grand Oblivion* that had transformed Gu Chang’an into her current stone-faced demeanor.

Shen Zhaoqing sat cross-legged before the desk, gazing at the scribbles that resembled ghost talismans, a single thought echoing in her mind: ‘Grand Oblivion? More like Grand ‘Forget-to-Live,’ I say! Life is so good, why torture oneself?’

[Wu Shi to You Shi (11 AM to 7 PM): Free activity (within the Abode’s confines).]

This was perhaps Shen Zhaoqing’s only glimmer of hope for the day.

However, this so-called ‘freedom’ came with a supplementary note, inscribed in smaller, yet even sharper, sword-intent-infused characters:

[Addendum: Daily alcohol consumption shall not exceed one gourd.]

“…”

‘To hell with ‘free activity’!’

‘What was the difference between this and locking an internet-addicted teenager in a mansion and telling them, “You’re free to do anything, just don’t touch a computer”?’

‘Utterly inhumane! Absolutely merciless!’

Every day, Shen Zhaoqing would sit in the courtyard of Shuangming Abode, cradling her cherished wine gourd like a waiting wife carved in stone, meticulously calculating how much of her daily allowance remained.

She felt less like she was being protected and more like a rare collectible, meticulously polished and maintained by Gu Chang’an, then placed within a glass display case named ‘Shuangming Abode,’ shielded from all potential ‘sources of contamination’ she might encounter.

This sensation of being simultaneously supremely guarded and supremely controlled made her profoundly uncomfortable, a constant prickling sensation on her back.

It was too healthy, too disciplined.

She almost wished she could return to that night before Gu Chang’an arrived, and simply leave with the Demon Lord Ling Shuangjue.

****

That afternoon, the sun shone perfectly.

Grand Sword Immortal Gu Chang’an had been summoned by Sect Master Xuanweizi for a council meeting early that morning, reportedly to discuss a series of lingering issues stemming from the Demon Lord Ling Shuangjue’s recent visit.

With the colossal refrigeration unit gone, the temperature in Shuangming Abode seemed to warm by several degrees.

Shen Zhaoqing immediately seized this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, grabbing a small stool and sidling over to the courtyard gate. There, basking in the sun, she contentedly sipped her daily ‘allotment.’

The warm sunlight cascaded over her, dispelling the chill that had accumulated over the past few days. Shen Zhaoqing narrowed her eyes, feeling like a cat thawing from a deep freeze, so utterly comfortable she felt she might melt away.

Just as she was drifting into a doze, a timid voice echoed from not far away.

“Shen… Senior Sister Shen?”

Shen Zhaoqing jolted awake, her eyes snapping open.

Beyond the courtyard gate of Shuangming Abode, constructed of white jade, stood a slender young woman dressed in the outer disciple robes of the Qingyun Sect, looking somewhat uneasy.

Her figure was delicate, her small face almost translucent with pallor. Her ink-blue eyes, like a bottomless cold pool, always held a blend of timidity and dependence when she looked at someone.

It was that clingy junior sister, Li Wuxia.

In her hands, she cradled a small white porcelain bowl, its lid still on. Wisps of steam curled from the gaps, carrying a sweet, fragrant aroma.

“Why are you here?” Shen Zhaoqing asked, a little surprised.

Due to Gu Chang’an’s presence, no one typically dared approach Shuangming Abode; it had practically become a ‘forbidden zone’ within the Qingyun Sect.

“I… I heard Senior Sister was… was kept here, and I was worried, so…” Li Wuxia’s voice was as faint as a mosquito’s buzz. She lowered her head, her long eyelashes casting a delicate shadow beneath her eyes. “I… I made some lotus seed soup, thinking Senior Sister might like it.”

As she spoke, she carefully extended the white porcelain bowl. Her ink-blue eyes lifted, gazing at Shen Zhaoqing with hopeful eyes, much like a small animal awaiting its master’s feeding.

‘Why had she never noticed how adorable her junior sister was before?’

Though Shen Zhaoqing found her junior sister a little overly clingy, seeing her pitiful expression made it impossible to voice a refusal.

Besides, this was her slacking-off time while Gu Chang’an was away! If someone was offering warmth, it would be foolish not to accept such kindness.

“Thanks,” Shen Zhaoqing said, taking the bowl. It was warm to the touch. She lifted the lid, and a delicate fragrance of lotus seeds and rock sugar wafted forth. The lotus seeds, simmered to a tender softness, rested in the translucent broth, a sight that immediately whetted the appetite.

She picked up the accompanying spoon and tasted a mouthful. It was sweet without being cloying, and cooked to perfection.

“Mm, delicious,” Shen Zhaoqing praised it with genuine sincerity.

Li Wuxia’s eyes instantly sparkled.

She simply stood there, unmoving, watching Shen Zhaoqing finish the lotus seed soup, spoonful by spoonful.

Shen Zhaoqing felt a slight unease under her intense gaze, so she quickly finished it in a few gulps and handed the empty bowl back. “Thank you, Junior Sister. I’m doing well, no need to worry.”

“Mm!” Li Wuxia nodded vigorously, taking the empty bowl. A blush, unnatural in its intensity, colored her cheeks.

“Then… then I’ll leave now, Senior Sister. You… you rest well.” She departed, looking back three times with obvious reluctance.

The moment she turned, her elbow seemed to ‘accidentally’ brush against Shen Zhaoqing’s temple.

“Oh dear!” Li Wuxia exclaimed softly.

A most ordinary wooden hairpin, used to secure a bun, slipped from Shen Zhaoqing’s hair and fell to the ground.

“I’m so sorry! Senior Sister Shen!” Li Wuxia immediately crouched down with astonishing speed, snatching up the wooden hairpin before Shen Zhaoqing could even react.

“It’s fine, just a broken hairpin,” Shen Zhaoqing waved her hand dismissively. This hairpin was merely a twig she had casually picked up and carved herself while working as a handyman in the outer sect; it was utterly worthless.

“I… I’ll keep it for Senior Sister, lest it fall again,” Li Wuxia swiftly concealed the wooden hairpin within her sleeve, clutching it tightly in her palm. Her cheeks flushed even deeper with excitement, her voice trembling with an almost imperceptible tremor.

“Oh, alright.” Shen Zhaoqing paid it no mind whatsoever. She waved her hand, indicating she should leave quickly and not disturb her sunbathing.

Only then did Li Wuxia depart, looking back three times as she went.

Only after she had walked a considerable distance and confirmed that Shen Zhaoqing could no longer see her did she halt, hiding behind a colossal ancient pine.

The ordinary wooden hairpin, imbued with the scent of Shen Zhaoqing’s hair, lay quietly in her palm.

Li Wuxia lowered her head, bringing the hairpin to her nose and inhaling deeply.

It still carried a faint trace of wine, and a vibrant, sun-like vitality that made her entire body tremble.

‘This is the scent…’

‘This is it!’

She rubbed the hairpin against her cheek with obsessive devotion. Within the depths of her ink-blue eyes, a pathological, frenzied possessiveness surged.

“Senior Sister… is mine…”

“No one… can take you from me…”

She murmured to herself, pressing the hairpin tightly against her chest, as if doing so could bring her closer to that person.

And those… those filthy things who dared to speak ill of Senior Sister behind her back…

A chilling ruthlessness that utterly contradicted her delicate appearance flashed in Li Wuxia’s eyes.

‘They all deserved to die.’