Chapter 61: The Scarlet Letter

Chisha frowned and said, “Don’t call me Lady. I still don’t even know if I truly am his wife.”

Qing Yin was startled. She had never doubted this before; after all, she had witnessed the sincerity Star Lord had shown before the ice crystal, and the patience and tenderness he had displayed toward Chisha since then. It made her believe his feelings ran deep.

But though Chensha had only just awakened from centuries of slumber, her mind was anything but dull—she did not trust so easily. Though she doubted, she had not confronted Star Lord with her suspicions. The sharpness of her mind made Qing Yin see her in a new light.

“So if I don’t call you Lady, how should I address you?” she asked.

“Just call me by my name.”

“All right.”

“And you, what is your name?”

“Qing Yin.”

“Then I’ll call you Yin’er. Yin’er, how much do you know about my past?”

Qing Yin shook her head. “To be honest, today is my first time setting foot in Star Lord’s palace, and the first time I’ve met you.”

Chisha spread out her left hand, lowered her gaze to her palm, and fell silent for a long time. Qing Yin was puzzled—what could possibly be so interesting about one’s own palm?

Suddenly, the door opened and Star Lord entered. Chisha naturally let her arm fall, hiding her hand in her sleeve, and raised her head to greet him with a gentle smile. The shadow of suspicion vanished from her eyes, replaced by docile serenity.

“Chisha, would you like to stroll with me in the gardens?” Star Lord asked. “You’ve slept for so long; stretching your limbs will do you good.”

The two wandered leisurely through the palace and gardens, with Star Lord introducing each celestial hall and treasure pavilion to Chisha. Qing Yin followed at a respectful distance, quietly memorizing the layout of the palace.

But when they finally reached the viewing platform atop the highest tower, and she looked out, despair settled in her heart. The Hall of Celestial Pivot was built atop a sheer peak. Streams from the palace gardens flowed beyond the walls, merging into a white waterfall that plunged into the clouds below, vanishing without a trace.

Gazing into the distance, she saw only endless seas of cloud. Faintly, far away, pavilions and towers shimmered—sometimes shining in the sunlight, sometimes veiled in mist, like mirages, illusory palaces adrift.

This solitary peak, where the Hall of Celestial Pivot stood, was like an isolated island in a boundless sea. Even if she escaped the mountain, she would be lost in this wondrous realm of mist. Where could she possibly go to find Moutu?

Tears slipped down her cheeks in silence.

A young immortal attendant approached to report, “Star Lord, we have found some clues regarding the magistrate’s office in Jiaozhou.”

Star Lord’s icy gaze sharpened. “Report in detail inside the hall.” He turned to Chisha, his voice soft. “Would you like to rest in your chambers, my lady?”

“No,” Chisha replied, “I have slept long enough and do not feel tired. Let me enjoy the view a while longer before I return.”

“Very well.” Star Lord fondly brushed a strand of hair from her ear, then addressed Qing Yin, “Stay with the lady. Do not leave her side.”

Qing Yin agreed.

When Star Lord had gone, Chisha glanced at Qing Yin. “Yin’er, is something troubling you?”

Qing Yin, lost in thought, startled at the question. She was indeed uneasy—the immortal attendant had just mentioned the magistrate’s office in Jiaozhou and said they had found clues.

She had suspected that Governor Dong was connected to the tragedy that destroyed her family, but had not expected Star Lord to investigate as well. What was his purpose?

A deeper connection seemed to lurk behind the scenes, but she could not grasp it.

Her distraction did not escape Chisha’s notice. This beauty’s intuition was truly keen. Qing Yin replied, “It’s nothing, I was just thinking of a friend.”

Chisha sat down at the edge of the viewing platform and beckoned. “Come, sit with me.”

Qing Yin obeyed, settling beside her. Chisha asked, “Since you know nothing of my past, tell me of your own.”

Looking into Chisha’s crimson eyes, Qing Yin felt a flicker of hope. After a moment’s thought, she made up her mind.

Chisha did not trust Star Lord. Perhaps she could try to stand on the same side as Chisha.

She began softly, “I am, in truth, a mortal…”

She recounted the tragedy that had befallen her family, her encounter with a strange black cat who later transformed into a handsome youth… She continued, telling of the parting in Jiuyu’s cliff-top dwelling, and finally of her capture by Star Lord.

In the celestial realm, the sun was a massive sphere, sinking slowly in the west, turning blood-red. The whole sea of clouds rolled with flame-like hues, a vast ocean of fire. The sunset light fell upon Chisha, dancing in her fiery hair.

Another afternoon in this strange world had quietly slipped away.

Chisha let out a long breath, then suddenly narrowed her eyes, leaned close to Qing Yin’s neck, and inhaled deeply, murmuring, “You smell so sweet. I’m hungry.” Her gaze fixed on the pulse beating in Qing Yin’s throat, and she unconsciously licked her lower lip.

Qing Yin was deeply unnerved by this overly intimate gesture and shrank away, but caught a glint of greed in those red eyes. A chill ran through her.

A strange thought arose. It was as if Chisha wanted to devour her.

Chisha seemed to come to herself in that instant, straightened, and once more muttered with a frown, “I’m hungry.”

Qing Yin felt a jolt of terror and hurriedly fished a red fruit from her bosom, handing it over.

As Chisha ate the fruit, the murderous gleam faded from her eyes, and she seemed quite satisfied with the taste.

Watching her eat so elegantly, Qing Yin suddenly said, “Once, Moutu told me that true immortals do not feel hunger. When they eat, it is not to fill their bellies, but only to savor delicious flavors.”

Chisha’s movements stilled. She turned to look at Qing Yin.

Qing Yin’s gaze dropped to Chisha’s exposed ankle. “There are scales on your ankle. I have never seen another immortal, but neither Moutu nor Jiuyu, after taking human form, retained any features of their original bodies like this.”

A shadow flickered in Chisha’s eyes. In a low voice, she said, “You mean… I am not some immortal lady from the Jade Pool, but rather… a demon?”

Qing Yin said, “I carry a celestial fungus in my body; demons who come near me can conceal their demonic aura. After Star Lord captured me, he released you from the ice, and has never let me leave your side. Perhaps he intends to use my presence to hide your demonic aura, so you can survive in the celestial realm.”

Chisha gazed at her for a moment, then suddenly opened her left hand. Qing Yin looked down and saw two crimson characters etched into her palm: “Red Pearl.”

The writing was hasty, and the strokes themselves were wounds—as if carved with a sharp instrument in a moment of urgency.

Chisha traced the same two words in the dust at her feet. “I’ve checked—this is my own handwriting. Judging by the marks, I must have scratched it into my left palm with my right-hand fingernail.”

What dire circumstance could have driven her to wound herself in order to leave this message? And what did these two words signify?

Chisha spoke softly, “I suspect that, before I was frozen, I knew I would lose my memory, but could not bear the thought. So I seized the chance to leave myself this message.

“If it was Star Lord who froze me, then he must have wanted to keep something from me, while I was unwilling to be deceived. These two words must be the key to regaining my past. But what, exactly, does ‘Red Pearl’ refer to?”

Qing Yin couldn’t help but sigh in admiration. “You are truly a clever woman.”

Chisha smiled. “I am only forgetful, not foolish.”

By day, Chisha acted docile and innocent before Star Lord, but at night, claiming she could not yet accept her new reality, she refused to share a room with him and insisted Qing Yin stay with her instead. Star Lord’s gaze toward Qing Yin grew tinged with jealousy.

Yet he would not force Chisha. Having waited centuries, he did not mind a few more days. He believed that, with time, he would win her heart again.

Though she lay beside a beauty, Qing Yin found no peace at night. Her worries for Moutu never left her.

Chisha turned over, her crimson eyes shining in the dark. “Yin’er, is it because you miss that black cat that you cannot sleep?”

“Yes,” Qing Yin replied. “I miss him terribly. I don’t know if he’s safe…”

“What does it feel like, to miss someone?” Chisha asked.

Qing Yin thought for a moment. “It’s like… an invisible thread pulled from your heart, tugging at you constantly. When the longing grows, it feels as if your heart might tear apart.” As she spoke, the pain welled up, and a sheen of tears glimmered in her eyes.

Chisha pressed her hand to her chest. “I think I feel that too. As if I’m yearning for someone, but because I can’t remember who, I don’t even know for whom this pain aches.”

“Is it Star Lord?”

“I don’t know.”

“Chisha, do you truly feel nothing for Star Lord? Though I hate him, I can see that he truly loves you.”

“My feelings for him… are complicated. Until I can untangle them, no matter how sincere he is, I dare not accept him.”

Author’s Note: The author is full of negative energy and does not wish to speak.