How to Be the Perfect Junior Sister to a Reborn Villain - Chapter 12.2

Chapter 12 (Part 2)

How would I know?

Probably not that long ago, Cheng Yuan replied lazily.

The sight of that smug, careless look on his face made Venerable Dikong’s bl00d pressure spike.

The worst part about this man was that he was both unreliable and reliable at the same time.

When he actually did something, it was flawless, utterly dependable.
But the way he acted every other moment? Enough to make anyone want to throw him off a cliff.

She was the spirit of the quasi-immortal artifact, the Dikong Mirror. Fifteen hundred years ago, this man had personally dissolved their contract and vanished without a word.

She had thought he was dead.

And yet here he was alive, well, and still to piss her off!

Dikong’s elegant hand curled into a fist, knuckles cracking. The moment she raised it, Cheng Yuan’s face shifted slightly, and he blurted.

“Hey, hey! Look at that temper of yours! Always ready to throw punches at the drop of a hat. You’re a quasi-immortal artifact, remember? Shouldn’t you be all enlightened and beyond mortal desires?”

With a deafening BOOM, the ornate chair Cheng Yuan had been sitting on exploded into splinters, shards of precious dark ironwood scattering across the floor.

Everyone: That…was ten thousand year old Dark Iron wood.

In the back, the sect master, who’d been trying to blend into the walls, twitched violently.

That chair alone was worth more spirit stones than my entire sect budget! Patriarch, please, if you must destroy things destroy them precisely.

Luckily, Cheng Yuan’s body technique was still sharp even if his spiritual power was sealed. He dodged just in time because if that punch had landed, his centuries-old face would’ve been bruised beyond recognition.

This woman’s temper is outrageous!

He glanced at the pile of broken wood chips, straightened his neck, and said stiffly, I am working on a solution, aren’t I?

Then, turning back toward the others, he clicked his tongue impatiently. Tsk, what’s this? Only four people? How are we supposed to fix the barrier with four?

Which one of you is the current sect master? Send messages to the other nine sects and tell their old fossils to haul themselves over here. If they’re still breathing, they can still work.”

Sect Master Heng Yu bowed quickly, too terrified to correct him; there were actually five of them here, counting Cheng Yuan.

He immediately began transmitting messages. After all, this was about the safety of the entire Xuancang Realm no one dared delay.

Oh, and one more thing, Cheng Yuan said nonchalantly, stretching his arms. I can’t use spiritual power right now, or I’ll trigger a tribulation on the spot. So… the barrier repair’s up to you lot. I’ll just supervise.

He said it so casually, so naturally, like the laziest foreman in history.

Everyone lowered their heads even further. Wow, the floor looked very interesting today. Their shoes spectacular craftsmanship, truly.

No one dared mention the fact that just minutes ago, Venerable Dikong had obliterated a chair in a fit of fury.

“Spread my word,” Cheng Yuan said, his tone slow and drawling but edged with unmistakable menace. “If any sect dares skip out or dawdle on the way, I’ll go to their mountain gate myself and set off fireworks.

He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, looking every inch the idle gentleman, but every word was dripping with threat.

Of course, he wasn’t about to actually set off fireworks. At the moment, he was a poor, weak, helpless old man who couldn’t even circulate qi.

But if someone did test his patience well, that’s what disciples were for.

Heng Yu was drenched in cold sweat.

How on earth am I supposed to word that message politely?

He was truly suffering, caught between one domineering old ancestor and one unreliable younger one.

He needed to start grooming a successor immediately. He wanted out of this job.

When the other sect masters received the summons, their faces darkened.

The summoned ancestors, forced out of seclusion, looked equally grim. None of them dared to utter a complaint, though each one silently cursed their luck.

Grinding their teeth, the group of Tribulation-stage cultivators joined the repair effort for the shattered world barrier.

Of course, it wasn’t just because they feared Cheng Yuan’s threats.

Repairing the barrier benefited them directly. Heaven’s Dao would bestow merit upon anyone who took part.

Still… watching Cheng Yuan lounging around, “supervising” with that smug, lazy grin

They all itched to punch that handsome face until it was swollen shut.

If only a Tribulation cultivator could make a move lightly.