Don't Provoke the Black Lotus O [Transmigration Novel] - Chapter 72

72: Fourteen Years Ago 2

Jiang Ci froze for a moment, staring at the young girl who only reached her chin, then belatedly realized—

At such a close distance, she hadn’t caught even a hint of plum blossom scent.

Xiaoxue truly hadn’t differentiated yet!

It seemed the Empress at this time didn’t know whether Xiaoxue would become a Qianjun in the future. Combined with her deep hatred for Consort An, she had simply struck preemptively, eliminating the threat at its root.

In the original story, Xi Lingxue had escaped this calamity. Later, because she differentiated as a Kunjun, she was no longer a contender for the throne, and the Empress had no further reason to kill her.

Destroying a Kunjun was easy—just marry her off to a scoundrel, and her life would be ruined. People like Pei Yun were rare exceptions. Most Kunjun were trapped in the inner chambers, their lives reduced to domestic trivialities, raising children and serving their husbands.

This was the mainstream ideology of this world, accepted not only by Qianjun and Zhongjun but even by Kunjun themselves.

What truly imprisoned them wasn’t the cages or shackles of the outside world but the high walls they built within their own hearts.

“I guessed,” Jiang Ci said, unable to resist lifting a strand of hair from the girl’s shoulder, speaking earnestly. “Whether you’re a Kunjun or a Zhongjun doesn’t matter. What matters is what kind of person Xiaoxue wants to be.”

“Don’t pay too much attention to others’ opinions. Don’t let your identity hold you back. Just walk your own path with determination.”

Xi Lingxue tilted her head slightly to meet her gaze. The woman’s eyes burned like a small flame, igniting a wildfire in her heart with just a glance.

“I’ve gone off track,” Jiang Ci’s tone shifted, and she grinned again. “This sister just came to remind you—there are many bad people out there, so always be careful.”

The girl paused, lowering her eyes. “I understand.”

Understanding wasn’t enough. Jiang Ci knew full well that Xi Lingxue would present as a Kunjun. Even if she escaped Gao Yi, there would surely be others coveting her beauty in the future.

Thinking of this, Jiang Ci’s smile faded. She took out two small porcelain bottles—one containing poison, the other its antidote.

Xi Lingxue looked puzzled. “What’s this…?”

“‘Tears of Beauty.’ Just a tiny sprinkle of this powder will make even the strongest person bleed from their nose. Without the antidote, death is certain. If anyone bullies you in the future, use this on them.”

This was something Mo Sanqi had taught her back in Songxiang Town, the only poison Jiang Ci knew how to concoct.

She remembered Xi Lingxue had used this very trick to teach Yao Qin a lesson—likely learned from Mo Sanqi later.

No matter. Jiang Ci happened to know it too, and she could teach her the recipe now. A Kunjun’s strength couldn’t match a Qianjun’s, so poison was the perfect equalizer.

Jiang Ci immediately moved to the table, grinding ink and picking up a brush to carefully write down the instructions.

When she’d first transmigrated into Gao Yi’s body, her calligraphy had been atrocious, earning her no end of “mockery” from Xi Lingxue. After her rebirth, she’d practiced diligently every day, and now her handwriting was completely transformed.

Xi Lingxue stood beside her, watching as those slender, pale fingers moved with gentle precision, the brush flowing effortlessly across the paper.

Her handwriting was beautiful, and her martial arts were exceptional.

Xi Lingxue’s gaze drifted upward, past the veil to the woman’s eyes.

Deep and elegant, she couldn’t help but think—this face must be just as striking.

Jiang Ci finished writing and glanced at the recipe, then suddenly looked up. “Xiaoxue, have you ever met… a female knight-errant?”

Xi Lingxue blinked, confusion in her eyes. “What female knight-errant?”

“Oh, nothing.”

Xi Lingxue’s expression made it clear she hadn’t. Jiang Ci realized she must have arrived before that transmigrator.

Now that she’d taken Xi Lingxue away from the capital, altering her original fate, it was possible she’d never even meet that so-called knight-errant!

Hah, take that, rival!

Jiang Ci snorted inwardly, her face betraying nothing as she smiled brightly. “Then let me teach you three more things. Master these, and you’ll never have to worry about food or clothing for the rest of your life.”

“…What?”

“Soap, face masks, and glass.”

After writing down these recipes, Jiang Ci explained the key points to Xi Lingxue, who listened attentively and carefully stored the instructions away.

The night deepened, and the countdown in her vision showed only eleven hours remaining.

Jiang Ci looked at the young girl before her and said softly, “I’ll head back now. Xiaoxue, get some rest. We have a long journey tomorrow.”

Xi Lingxue hesitated, then asked, “Sister, where exactly are we going? Aren’t we returning to the capital? Nanny Zhang is still in the palace.”

Moreover, she still needed to investigate her mother’s case. If they left now, how would she ever uncover the truth?

Jiang Ci’s eyes dimmed. She sighed and pulled the girl into an embrace.

“Not for now. Once you’re settled, we’ll bring Nanny Zhang to you.” Her voice was gentle, soothing the girl’s unease. “Be good and listen to me. Some things aren’t as simple as they seem. There’s no need to rush.”

Xi Lingxue muttered, “I’m not a child.”

In just a few months, on her birthday, she would differentiate.

Jiang Ci chuckled. “When you’re as tall as me, then we’ll talk.”

Xi Lingxue: “…”

Suddenly, she didn’t want to call her “sister” anymore.

It took some coaxing and cajoling before Jiang Ci finally got her to sleep. Stepping out of the room, she found Mo Sanqi downstairs, utterly drunk. Jin Yu’s small face was flushed red as she sprawled on the floor, snoring softly.

Jiang Ci hurried down. “Senior Mo, Jin Yu’s just a child! How could you let her drink?”

Mo Sanqi’s eyes were bleary, her words slurred. “She wanted to! Why’re you blaming me?”

Arguing with a drunk was pointless.

Jiang Ci scooped up Jin Yu with one arm and forcibly dragged Mo Sanqi with the other, gritting her teeth as she hauled them both back to their rooms.

That night, Jiang Ci lay awake, watching the countdown in her vision.

As dawn approached, she suddenly realized she’d overlooked something crucial.

Xi Lingxue’s fate had already diverged from the original path. She’d faked her death, fled the capital, and would never marry Gao Yi.

Which meant… everything Jiang Ci had experienced in the past wouldn’t happen either?

This story had been rewritten!

From now on, the lives of Xi Lingxue and Gao Yi would follow entirely new trajectories!

So when the countdown ended, where—and when—would Jiang Ci, as herself, be transported?

Cold sweat broke out on Jiang Ci’s back as she lay in bed, struggling to calm herself and analyze the situation.

This transmigration wasn’t orchestrated by some system—it was the work of the mountain god.

The mountain god had sought out Jiang Ci herself, intending for her to go to Liang Kingdom, unify the Dark Hall, and resolve the kingdom’s crisis.

If that was the case, Jiang Ci guessed that once the countdown ended, no matter where or when she found herself, she’d still be in her own body.

She’d meet Mo Sanqi, become her disciple, and join the Xiaoyao Sect.

The mountain god had tasked her with saving Xi Lingxue, so she’d also have to follow the deity’s will and go to Liang Kingdom.

That had to be it, right?

Jiang Ci pushed the thoughts aside. As long as she could save Xi Lingxue, nothing else mattered.

…

The next morning, after breakfast, the group set off again.

Jiang Ci and Mo Sanqi took the reins as before, though the latter was nursing a pounding headache from the previous night’s indulgence.

Jin Yu, perhaps because she was young and hadn’t drunk much, was full of energy, bouncing around with uncontainable excitement.

They traveled without pause until the countdown showed only ten minutes remaining. Jiang Ci had no choice but to bid them farewell—she couldn’t risk vanishing into thin air and scaring them.

“Senior Mo, I’ll leave the rest of the journey to you,” Jiang Ci said. “Head straight south to Yong’an Village. General Pei’s people will meet you there.”

Time constraints prevented her from escorting them all the way, so she’d arranged a rendezvous point with Pei Yun in advance.

Mo Sanqi nodded lazily. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry.”

As soon as she spoke, the carriage curtain was pushed aside.

Xi Lingxue’s delicate brows were furrowed, her voice low. “You’re leaving? Just like that?”

Why so sudden? She hadn’t mentioned it last night. Xi Lingxue had thought they’d be traveling together…

Noticing she’d stopped calling her “sister” Jiang Ci could tell she was upset. She reached out and gently pinched the girl’s cheek, smiling. “We’ll meet again.”

“Really?” Xi Lingxue stared at her intently. “What’s your name?”

Jiang Ci pursed her lips. She couldn’t reveal that—how would she explain it if they met again in the future? Xi Lingxue would just think she was insane.

“I can’t say. Knowing Xiaoxue’s name is enough for me.”

Xi Lingxue’s expression darkened, clearly displeased. “If you won’t even tell me your name, how am I supposed to find you in the future?”

“I’ll come to you.” Jiang Ci said.

Xi Lingxue bit her lip. “What if I insist on knowing? You still won’t tell me?”

Jiang Ci’s heart ached at the sight of her reddened eyes.

“Hey, if you don’t want to give your real name, at least leave a martial alias,” Mo Sanqi interjected, rubbing her temples. “Give the girl something to hold onto.”

“…Fine.” Jiang Ci thought for a moment, then said, “I am… Dongfang Bubai.”

Mo Sanqi’s eyes widened.

What the—Dongfang Bubai? That arrogant?

Didn’t she fear getting beaten up in the martial world with a name like that?

Xi Lingxue said nothing, silently committing “Dongfang Bubai” to memory, determined to investigate thoroughly in the future.

Five minutes remained on the countdown.

Jiang Ci glanced at Mo Sanqi and pulled her aside for a private word.

“Senior Mo, there’s something very important I need to ask of you.”

“Heh. Dongfang Bubai.” Mo Sanqi chuckled, taking a swig from the gourd at her waist. “Go on.”

Jiang Ci grew serious. “In the future, you’ll meet someone named Jiang Ci. You must take her as your disciple.”

“Huh?” Mo Sanqi hadn’t expected such a request. She pictured it and immediately shook her head like a rattle-drum. “No, no, no. Taking on a disciple sounds like way too much trouble.”

Sigh. This was the mountain god’s will!

Jiang Ci pleaded earnestly, “She’s very obedient! Smart and hardworking—you’ll regret it for life if you don’t take her!”

Mo Sanqi raised an eyebrow. “That serious?”

“Absolutely!”

Mo Sanqi seemed swayed.

Recalling the clothes she’d worn during her rebirth—T-shirt, jeans, sneakers—all distinctly out of place and easy to recognize, Jiang Ci described them in detail, emphasizing her unique appearance.

Mo Sanqi listened, constructing a mental image, and frowned.

…What kind of lunatic dressed like that?!

Jiang Ci: “Just trust me. Would I steer you wrong?”

Mo Sanqi rolled her eyes. “Fine, fine.”

For the sake of yesterday’s assistance, she’d reluctantly agree.

As the countdown neared zero, Jiang Ci bid Mo Sanqi farewell. A flash of white light later, she vanished into thin air.

…

Following Jiang Ci’s instructions, Mo Sanqi continued the journey, delivering Xi Lingxue to Yong’an Village, where they were met by Pei Yun’s people.

From then on, Pei Yun would ensure Xi Lingxue’s safety, so Mo Sanqi’s presence was no longer necessary.

She’d only come to find Pei Yun in the first place, and helping out had been incidental.

But after yesterday’s argument, she no longer held any expectations.

Hadn’t Pei Yun told her to stop pestering her?

Fine. Mo Sanqi would grant that wish—she’d never appear before her again.

After Mo Sanqi left, Xi Lingxue continued south under Pei Yun’s arrangements.

During those days of travel, Jiang Ci’s words echoed in her mind.

What kind of person did she want to be?

Certainly not someone who slinked away in anonymity, fleeing the capital in disgrace while her mother’s death remained shrouded in mystery.

To leave like this, to hide in some remote corner, trading her royal status for an ordinary life dependent on Pei Yun’s charity—was she content with that?

Of course not!

Those responsible for her mother’s death were in the capital, in the palace!

Even knowing Pei Yun was acting in her best interest, Xi Lingxue no longer wished to follow such plans.

The capital was dangerous, yes—but it was also the heart of power!

What did danger or hardship matter? She wanted authority. She wanted to punish the culprits herself. She wanted vengeance for her mother!

What if, in a few months, she differentiated as a Qianjun?

Her identity was her greatest asset. Without the palace, she was nothing.

[Just walk your own path with determination.]

Those words lingered in her mind. After days of turmoil, Xi Lingxue finally made her decision.

…

The blinding white light gradually faded. Jiang Ci opened her eyes to find herself standing atop the altar once more.

The mountain god’s temple was as serene as deep water under the night sky, dotted with stars and bathed in tender moonlight.

For a moment, Jiang Ci couldn’t place when or where she’d returned to. She touched her face, then looked down at her attire—still the crimson robes from the Lantern Festival.

Everything was exactly as it had been before the transmigration.

Jiang Ci was baffled. Something felt off.

With that thought, she activated her qinggong and raced toward the medical clinic.

She had to see if Xi Lingxue was still there!

The streets remained adorned with lanterns, though the crowds had thinned, many vendors having packed up for the night.

Her nerves were taut the entire way. Reaching the familiar clinic, she shoved the door open.

Helian Ping and Long Yin were inside, along with the Dark Hall members who’d returned.

A chill ran down Jiang Ci’s spine—a terrible premonition struck her.

As Helian Ping moved to greet her, Jiang Ci brushed past, rushing deeper inside. Turning into the innermost room, her eyes landed on the figure lying in bed.

The crimson staining the white robes stabbed at her vision like a blade. Jiang Ci felt as though lightning had struck her.

How could this be?

Nothing had changed?

She hadn’t saved Xi Lingxue after all?!

Tears welled up instantly. Jiang Ci clamped a hand over her mouth, trembling as she knelt beside the bed.

Grief engulfed her like a tidal wave. She was on the verge of sobbing aloud—

“Xiao—”

Before she could finish, a hand clapped her shoulder.

“Hey, if you’re going to cry, do it outside. Don’t disturb the patient.”

At the familiar voice, Jiang Ci’s sobs cut off abruptly. She sniffled and turned to see Mo Sanqi’s disapproving face.

She hadn’t noticed when the woman had appeared behind her.

“Quite the imposing sect leader, aren’t you?” Mo Sanqi said. “Instead of studying medicine properly, you’re running around everywhere. Praying to mountain gods? You’d be better off praying to your master!”

Jiang Ci stared blankly for a moment, then turned back to examine Xi Lingxue closely.

The dagger in the woman’s chest had been removed, though her bloodstained robes hadn’t been changed yet. Her lips had returned to their normal color, albeit pale.

Her breathing was steady, her sleep peaceful.

Jiang Ci wiped her tears and gently brushed Xi Lingxue’s cheek.

Warm. Alive.

Xi Lingxue had been saved!

But… how?!

Jiang Ci’s mind reeled. She turned back. “Master, why are you here?”

Helian Ping, who’d followed her in, leaned against the doorway with crossed arms. “I was just about to tell you. Not long after you left, Lou Jingou ran into Senior Mo.”

Clearly, Mo Sanqi had been the one to save Xi Lingxue.

Jiang Ci blinked, comprehension dawning—though her mind still felt sluggish.

Hadn’t she traveled to the past and altered Xi Lingxue’s fate? How could this still have happened?

After a long pause, Jiang Ci hesitantly asked Helian Ping, “Xiaoxue is… the Eldest Princess of Yu Kingdom?”

Helian Ping frowned. “Obviously?”

“She was previously married to Gao Yi?”

“Uh, yeah? They’re already divorced—have you forgotten the ‘mad widow’ thing?”

Helian Ping then shot Mo Sanqi a sidelong glance: Did she hit her head or something?

Mo Sanqi’s brow furrowed, sensing something amiss. She stepped forward just as Jiang Ci turned to her, gaze vacant.

“Master… did you ever meet someone called Dongfang Bubai?”

Mo Sanqi froze momentarily, then after a beat, exclaimed, “I did! Wait—how do you know about her?”

That was fourteen years ago!

Back then, A Ci had been what—a ten-year-old kid?

Jiang Ci and Mo Sanqi stared at each other.

After a prolonged silence, Mo Sanqi’s frown deepened. Now that she thought about it…

“You know,” she mused, stroking her chin, “your eyes do look a lot like that Dongfang Bubai’s. Is she your long-lost older sister or something?”