The Villainess Always Tries to Seduce Me - Chapter 2

Why would Bai Fenghuo specifically request an Immortal Servant to come here? This situation must mean that the scumbag Sect Leader, after much deliberation, still couldn’t quell her anger and had summoned Yun Chuanzhi to silence her.

The original owner of this body had truly left her with a monumental mess.

“Are you the Immortal Servant named Cui?” The ethereal voice echoed again. Yun Chuanzhi blinked her wind-teared eyes and looked up, her breath catching in her throat.

Several Immortal Servants in green robes and black buns stood gracefully before him. The fading twilight draped over their layered silk skirts, and the leader, with her unadorned face and fair complexion, gazed down at Yun Chuanzhi with lowered eyes.

No wonder the Qianyuan Realm was renowned for its spiritual beauty; even the lowliest Immortal Servants were so strikingly beautiful.

Now the woman’s earlier words made sense. How could the scumbag Sect Leader, surrounded daily by such exquisite faces, ever find a plain, sickly girl like the original owner appealing?

“Yes,” Yun Chuanzhi replied.

Fortunately, to avoid attracting attention, she had hidden the unconscious peasant woman beneath the firewood pile outside the window. If she had been discovered, it would have been another complication.

The leader remained silent, scrutinizing Yun Chuanzhi from head to toe. Her gaze lingered briefly on her bl00d-smeared face before quickly shifting away.

The woman’s gaze was like looking at something filthy, making Yun Chuanzhi deeply uncomfortable.

Are all the people of Mount Everlasting this arrogant? Yun Chuanzhi shook her head inwardly. After carving out a reputation in Avici City with bl00d-soaked blades, no one had dared look at her like this for a long time.

A fallen tiger is preyed upon even by dogs, Yun Chuanzhi thought with a pang of sorrow.

“Come with me,” the woman said, seemingly unwilling to waste words. She turned and strode toward the door.

“Wait,” Yun Chuanzhi called out, naturally unwilling to face Bai Fenghuo. Seizing the opportunity to resist, she pressed her palm to her chest, feigning severe injury, and coughed several times, her voice trembling as she said, “This lowly servant…”

But the woman didn’t even raise an eyebrow. She continued, “Rest assured, I know you were severely injured by the Sect Leader for seducing him.”

She emphasized the words “seducing the Sect Leader” with biting sarcasm. With a flick of her hand, an Immortal Servant behind her produced a carrying pole. “No need to trouble yourself,” the woman said. “We’ll tie you up and carry you there.”

“This lowly servant is fine now,” Yun Chuanzhi declared. Before the woman could finish speaking, the previously half-dead Yun Chuanzhi had already risen to her feet, a faint smile playing on her lips. “Where is the Sect Leader? I’ll go with you.”

A crack appeared in the woman’s usually impassive expression. She opened her mouth as if to speak, then abruptly closed it again.

She retrieved the whip from Yun Chuanzhi’s body, turned, and stepped over the threshold. The surrounding Immortal Servants immediately swarmed forward, escorting Yun Chuanzhi out of the room.

It was early spring, the sky overcast and the ground muddy and pockmarked. The mountain peaks remained desolate, with barely a blade of green grass in sight. Yun Chuanzhi glanced back at her dilapidated hut, which looked like a wart on a mud pile, utterly indistinguishable as a dwelling.

The other Immortal Servants, by contrast, were impeccably dressed in elegant yet light and flowing robes, a stark reminder of Cui Ergou’s wretched existence as a slave.

Yun Chuanzhi’s resentment toward Bai Fenghuo deepened.

The mountain wilderness was silent save for the rhythmic footsteps of the group. The female Immortal Servant leading the procession walked with her head held high, casting a sidelong glance at “Cui Ergou.”

She had seen this young slave before—clumsy, timid, and easily bullied. She was often beaten so badly by the other Immortal Servants that she couldn’t even lift her head, yet all she would do was curl up and cry, as if anyone could trample over him.

But today, despite her tattered clothes, her gaze was clear and steady. Even facing imminent death, she looked around curiously, picking flowers and teasing birds, like a newborn child filled with boundless wonder at the world around him.

How strange.

“Miss,” Yun Chuanzhi suddenly called out, stopping her. She pointed to a trembling wildflower nestled in a crevice of the rock. “What’s this?”

The woman paused. “Just a wildflower. What else could it be?”

“And you foolish child,” she added with a frown, “my name is Ling Shui, and I’m already twenty-seven.”

But Yun Chuanzhi seemed not to hear her last words. Instead, she crouched down as if she had discovered a treasure, gently touching the small white flower with her fingertip.

A living flower—something she had never seen before.

So he’s been struck dumb after all. No wonder. Ling Shui’s gaze softened with understanding. She gestured for the other Immortal Servants to pull her up and continue their journey.

She dared not test her master’s temper. If they were even a moment late, she feared she might lose her own life.

As they emerged from the swaying mountain wilderness, signs of human habitation gradually appeared. Jade-paved stone steps, winding upward like a stairway to heaven, differed greatly from Yun Chuanzhi’s imagined Immortal Sect. This mountain peak lacked the ethereal beauty of a celestial realm; instead, it exuded the stench of wealth. Crimson pavilions and ornate doors stretched as far as the eye could see, lanterns hanging in profusion. From a distance, the colorful lights resembled a mountain of flickering stars, shimmering along the mountain ridge.

Truly extravagant and decadent, Yun Chuanzhi thought. She had never held any hope for survival. Mount Everlasting was one of the three great sects of the Qianyuan Realm, teeming with venerables and masters like leeks in a field. Snatching any one of them would be enough to turn Avici City upside down.

In the past, she might have risked a desperate escape, but now, trapped in this frail body, she feared her soul would shatter before she even made it out.

Better to submit to Bai Fenghuo and at least die swiftly.

Lost in thought, she had already entered the hall. Immortal Servants remained outside the door, leaving only Ling Shui to accompany her inside. The vast palace ceiling was painted with countless colorful depictions of Yanluo, creating an eerie and desolate atmosphere.

Yun Chuanzhi gazed at the murals, her mind conjuring an image of the sect leader. Someone who favors such decor must be a fierce woman with glaring eyes, a powerful build, and a trident in hand.

Distracted again, she passed through another gate. This chamber was much warmer than the previous one, flanked by two rows of shimmering golden pillars. Behind each pillar lay an intricately carved doorway, concealing various statues like two lines of imposing guards, their gazes fixed upon newcomers.

These are all treasures, Yun Chuanzhi thought, her eyes widening in awe. If I could pry one loose and bring it back to Avici City, I wonder how many high-grade spirit stones it would fetch.

Ling Shui, standing beside him, coughed softly, drawing Yun Chuanzhi back to the present. She lowered her gaze, focusing on the path ahead, her mind still racing.

Why bother thinking about such things when death is so near?

Beyond the golden pillars, a flowing melody filled the air, growing clearer with each step. The harmonious strings of an unknown instrument combination echoed through the gilded hall, exuding an atmosphere of decadent indulgence.

Behind two rows of screens, a scene of jarring opulence burst into view. Dozens of scantily clad beauties danced to the music, their fragrant perfumes flooding Yun Chuanzhi’s nostrils. She felt dizzy and nauseous, raising a hand to cover her nose.

Indecent! Indecent! Yun Chuanzhi had eked out a miserable existence in the hellish Avici City, where her daily sights consisted of corpses strewn across the ground and mountains teeming with ferocious beasts and malevolent spirits. She had never seen so many bare, pale thighs in her life. Her face flushed crimson in an instant, and she quickly turned her back.

Ling Shui, standing beside him, was clearly just as uncomfortable. A blush rose on her fair cheeks as she lowered her head and whispered, “Sect Leader… Cui Ergou has arrived.”

For a long moment, there was no response. Then, after what felt like an eternity, a bell rang from the crowd behind them. The music faded with the crisp chime, and the swirling skirts of the dancers finally settled.

“Bring her forward.”

A calm, melodious voice drifted from the front, like a drop of water falling into a deep, dark pool. Though soft, the voice resonated clearly in every ear, making hearts tremble.

Yun Chuanzhi was still dazed when Ling Shui, standing beside her, gave her a forceful shove, propelling her into the midst of the assembled beauties.

The hall fell into complete silence. The beauties parted like a receding tide, bowing their heads and daring not to speak. With the floral screens gone, Yun Chuanzhi finally saw the legendary Scumbag Sect Leader.

She reclined sideways on an enormous meditation chair, her eyes closed as if napping. She wore a purple robe similar to the one in Yun Chuanzhi’s memories, its hem cascading down the steps like layers of blooming violets.

Two bare legs extended from beneath the robe, draped languidly over the armrest, her slender ankles dangling gracefully.

So pale, Yun Chuanzhi thought immediately, like a white hibiscus draped in purple silk, both regal and delicate.

Even without seeing her face clearly, for a fleeting moment, Yun Chuanzhi understood why the original owner of this body had become so deeply infatuated with her.

Too bad I’m Yun Chuanzhi now.

“Kneel,” Bai Fenghuo said softly.

In the Qianyuan Realm, everyone seemed to think they were emperors, demanding others kneel to listen to their words. Though Yun Chuanzhi resisted, her knees obediently sank to the ground.

Bai Fenghuo seemed pleased by her compliance. She rose slowly, her delicate lotus-root-like feet disappearing beneath the hem of her descending skirt as she stepped forward.

Leaning slightly, a strand of her curled black hair escaped from behind her ear, drifting down before Yun Chuanzhi’s face, carrying a faint floral scent.

“You’re the Cui Immortal Servant?” Bai Fenghuo paused, then suddenly reached out to grip Yun Chuanzhi’s chin, turning her face toward her.

Her fingernails were a pale purple, and surprisingly, her fingertips weren’t cold but radiated a faint warmth.

Yun Chuanzhi finally saw her face clearly. Her willow-leaf-shaped eyes drooped slightly, dark lashes veiling her pupils. The crimson makeup at the corners of her eyes blurred like rosy clouds, and her lips were a dazzling scarlet, likely layered with the most vibrant rouge.

She was breathtakingly beautiful, Yun Chuanzhi thought, momentarily dazed.

In a daze, Yun Chuanzhi felt the hand gripping her suddenly tighten. Bai Fenghuo’s strength was immense; for a fleeting moment, Yun Chuanzhi thought her hand would be crushed in her palm.

“I’ve heard rumors that you covet this Sect Leader?” Bai Fenghuo’s voice drifted down from above, her tone devoid of emotion, as if floating in the void, sending a chill down Yun Chuanzhi’s spine.

This person is truly dangerous, Yun Chuanzhi thought, clenching her fist in pain but refusing to speak.

He endured her grip for an eternity, nearly passing out, before the hand at her throat finally released him. Yun Chuanzhi immediately lowered her head and coughed.

It seemed her suspicions were correct: Bai Fenghuo had come to take her life.

Bai Fenghuo rose to her feet, the cool hem of her robe brushing against Yun Chuanzhi’s nose. Yun Chuanzhi straightened her back, facing death with stoic resolve, and braced herself for what was to come.

Yet after waiting for what felt like an age, nothing happened. She lifted her gaze only to see the once-violent Scumbag Sect Leader suddenly clutching her chest, collapsing into her arms with a soft whimper, like a tender willow branch in early spring.