The Villainess Always Tries to Seduce Me - Chapter 19

The mere fact that Bai Fenghuo could cry was already astonishing. To faint from crying was even more absurd. Yun Chuanzhi naturally didn’t believe it, responding with a dismissive chuckle as she lowered her gaze to her bamboo-leaf umbrella, now blackened by lightning.

Beneath the umbrella, Blackie, her face dark with soot, was scrambling out.

Of course, “dark face” was meant literally. The once snow-white stone puppet was now covered in ash. Shaking herself, she looked up at Yun Chuanzhi with a mournful expression in the rain.

“Well, it seems our rain appreciation is off the table today,” Yun Chuanzhi said, wiping the water from her face.

After the thunder and lightning, the rain had intensified to torrential proportions, the droplets falling like arrows, blurring the line between sky and earth. Amidst the rolling dark clouds, flashes of lightning crackled like dense spiderwebs, as if brewing a cataclysmic storm.

After bidding farewell to Cheng Jinshu, Yun Chuanzhi scooped up Blackie and sprinted back to the Spring Encounter Pavilion. The pounding rain stung her head, and stepping under the eaves felt like escaping a punishment.

Several Immortal Servants carrying umbrellas brushed past him, shouting:

“Heavens! My newly planted camellias!”

“Someone come quick! The bridge is broken!”

“The Ginseng Fruit Tree, which bears fruit only once every thousand years, is about to die! Quick, some of you come with me to block the rain!”

Rainwater gathered into small streams on the steps as dozens of Immortal Servants in green robes waded through the water, running back and forth. Yun Chuanzhi had never seen so many people at the Kun Dan Sect before. The roar of the rain drowned out their voices and quickly obscured their retreating figures.

The Kun Dan Sect’s lack of Immortal Cultivators now became painfully apparent. No one could use Immortal Arts to intercept the torrential rain and lightning. At that moment, another bolt of lightning split the sky, striking a three-story pavilion built atop an artificial mountain.

The pavilion stood close to the steps leading to the Spring Encounter Pavilion. Countless fragments of shattered stone and charred wood rained down on the Immortal Servants below. Yun Chuanzhi gasped.

Fortunately, a long whip shot out from the rain like a swimming dragon. The spiritual energy it carried froze the falling debris in mid-air. A woman in white robes glided gracefully through the rain, following the whip’s trajectory. With a flick of her wrist, the shattered stone and charred wood vanished without a trace.

“Sister Ling Shui!” the Immortal Servants who had narrowly escaped being crushed cried out in relief.

Ling Shui landed lightly, her expression grave. She cast Water-Repelling Spells on each of them with a flick of her fingers, then waved them away. Turning, she noticed Yun Chuanzhi crouching under the eaves.

“What are you doing here?” Ling Shui asked coldly.

“I’m sheltering from the rain,” Yun Chuanzhi replied, dripping wet.

Ling Shui, clearly overwhelmed, gave her a perfunctory nod and turned to leave. Yun Chuanzhi quickly called out, “Sister Ling Shui, where are you going?”

“To ask the Sect Leader for help,” Ling Shui sighed. “If this thunderstorm continues, it could trigger flash floods. The people living along the Flowing Abyss River would suffer terribly.”

“So the weather within a hundred miles of here is truly connected to the Sect Leader’s mood?” Yun Chuanzhi asked.

“Yes, but ordinary melancholy wouldn’t cause this. At most, a few dark clouds might form. This violent storm suggests the Sect Leader has experienced something far more profound,” Ling Shui said, her gaze drifting worriedly toward the distant mountains.

“Isn’t the Sect Leader at the sect?”

“No.” Ling Shui pointed toward the mountain path where the Iron Puppet had once led her. “If you follow this path up the mountain, you’ll find a naturally formed cave on a cliff edge. The Sect Leader often retreats there when she wishes to avoid people.”

Ling Shui withdrew her gaze and turned back to Yun Chuanzhi. The drenched girl sat hunched over, her water-soaked cheeks pale and soft, tinged with a rosy blush from the cold, like a lotus bud just emerging from the water.

“If you ask me, the Sect Leader seems quite fond of you,” Ling Shui blurted out.

Which eye of yours saw that? Yun Chuanzhi smiled at her.

“I’m going to find the Sect Leader now, but he’s incredibly busy and might not return for a while. Could you check on the Sect Leader for me and try to cheer her up?” Ling Shui took a few quick steps and crouched down face-to-face with Yun Chuanzhi.

“No,” Yun Chuanzhi replied, her smile unwavering.

Bai Fenghuo’s mood is already this volatile. Going to find her now would be practically begging for death, wouldn’t it?

“Cui Ergou!” Ling Shui slapped the ground, sending water splashing. Her brow furrowed, but she couldn’t bring herself to scold him. She knew Cui Ergou was stubborn as a mule; even if she yelled herself hoarse, she wouldn’t get angry.

If pushed too far, he’d simply lie down on the ground like a sun-dried salted fish, too lazy to even flip over.

When coercion failed, Ling Shui resorted to bribery. She forcefully smoothed the frown between her brows and withdrew a small, glass gourd from her sleeve. The liquid inside glowed with a radiant light, resembling starlight condensed into water, flowing slowly within.

“This was gifted to me by my clan,” Ling Shui said, shaking the gourd gently, her eyes pleading. “It’s a Phoenix’s tear, an immortal beast’s tear. A single bottle can enhance a cultivator’s spiritual energy and strengthen their body.”

“Go persuade the Sect Leader,” she urged. “If you succeed, this is yours.”

Yun Chuanzhi’s gaze fixed on the luminous gourd. Without hesitation, she rose abruptly and strode into the rain without another word.

His figure quickly vanished into the downpour. Ling Shui slowly stood up and let out a long, drawn-out sigh.

Not only a lazy bum, but also a greedy one.

Climbing the mountain was difficult enough, but doing so in the rain made it even harder. By the time Yun Chuanzhi reached the giant tree from their previous encounter, the lower half of her body was already soaked in mud. She stood awkwardly beneath the tree and recited the Water-Repelling Spell.

Though she knew the incantation by heart, her spiritual energy was insufficient, rendering the spell only half effective. The mud vanished, but the water remained.

Yun Chuanzhi had no choice but to wring the water from her drenched robes by hand. Despite the barrier guarding the cave entrance, it proved ineffective against him. She ducked low and slipped through.

Outside, a torrential downpour raged, but inside the cave, it was dry. A crimson crystal orb floated near the ceiling, rotating and radiating warmth like a furnace.

“Who’s there!” A low, sharp voice echoed through the cave, followed by a flurry of discarded fruit pits that shot through the air like projectiles. Yun Chuanzhi instinctively ducked, covering her head and closing her eyes. Blackie, the black egg nestled in her sleeve, leaped out to intercept the fruit pits.

“You?” Bai Fenghuo’s voice was hoarse and raspy, as if she hadn’t spoken in ages. She sat languidly on a chaise lounge, her long hair cascading uncombed over her shoulders. Gone was her usual elaborate makeup, leaving her face bare and pale. Her lips, as red as if freshly washed by rain, stood out starkly against her pallor.

“Get out,” she snapped irritably. “Don’t make me get violent.”

“Sister Ling Shui sent me. Everyone’s worried about you,” Yun Chuanzhi replied, reciting the most common comforting words she had rehearsed on her way here.

As expected, Bai Fenghuo scoffed, her damp eyes glancing sideways. “Lie again, and I’ll cut out your tongue.”

“Xiao Nu would never lie. If I do, may my entire family perish,” Yun Chuanzhi swore softly, raising her hand in a solemn oath.

Not that I have any family left anyway, she thought bitterly.

Bai Fenghuo clearly didn’t believe her, but remained silent. Yun Chuanzhi cautiously took a few steps forward, her hands clasped behind her back.

The woman’s eyes were lowered, revealing only her profile. The tip of her delicate nose was slightly flushed, as if she had just been crying. Her long eyelashes, like the wings of a fluttering butterfly, were tipped with tiny droplets of water.

It was undeniable: even if she were a complete scoundrel, her devastatingly beautiful face could melt anyone’s heart.

Bai Fenghuo hated showing weakness in front of others, especially Yun Chuanzhi. Suppressing her turbulent emotions, she spoke with icy detachment, “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“If it can alleviate the Sect Leader’s worries, then so be it,” Yun Chuanzhi replied with a coy smile. She crouched down beside Bai Fenghuo, peering up at her with a playful grin. “Sect Leader, would you share your troubles with me?”

For that vial of Phoenix Tears, she was willing to risk everything.

Her voice was as gentle as flowing water. For a fleeting moment, Bai Fenghuo’s breath hitched. Then, straightening her back, she pointed with a slender finger toward a small mound near the carved cliff edge.

Judging by the color of the soil, the object had been buried recently. A stone marker stood beside the mound, inscribed with the words: “Whitey’s Grave.”

Ah, so that clunky Iron Puppet is dead? Yun Chuanzhi thought in surprise.

Wait, how can a puppet die?

Bai Fenghuo seemed to be desperately suppressing something, her voice hoarse as a taut, about-to-snap zither string. She said in a low voice, “It’s been neglected for years, its limbs long since stiff. Last night, something went wrong. When I woke up, it wouldn’t move anymore.”

“Master’s Puppet Technique is unparalleled in the world. I’ve already consulted numerous Artifact Refiners, but none could help.”

She appeared deeply wounded, a hint of desolation in her eyes. “Leave. I don’t want to see anyone.”

Bai Fenghuo, usually so arrogant and ruthless, was reduced to this state over a mere puppet? Who would believe it?

Yun Chuanzhi found the situation somewhat amusing, but she dared not laugh. After a moment of silence, she said, “I can fix it.”

Bai Fenghuo’s long lashes instantly lifted, revealing eyes reflecting the rain-streaked sky, their rims slowly reddening.

She abruptly rose, barefoot and stumbling, and grabbed Yun Chuanzhi by the collar. “Really? If you’re lying, I’ll take your life!” she demanded urgently.

Her wide eyes could no longer hold back the tears, which streamed down her cheeks, leaving wet trails on her chest.

“Really, really,” Yun Chuanzhi nodded repeatedly, nearly being yanked off her feet. “Let me dig it up and take a look. Don’t cry.”

Realizing she had lost her composure, Bai Fenghuo slowly released her grip, straightened her back, and turned away, secretly wiping her tears with her sleeve.

“I’m not crying,” she growled fiercely.