The Villainess Always Tries to Seduce Me - Chapter 20

Her words were sharper than the Iron Puppet’s metal body. Yun Chuanzhi shook her head at Bai Fenghuo’s retreating figure, then casually picked up a stick and began digging.

The small mound of earth burying Whitey was neatly rounded, its surface bearing the delicate imprints of Bai Fenghuo’s hands. It was clear she hadn’t used Immortal Art, but had instead dug the grave with her bare hands.

Bai Fenghuo usually took meticulous care of those hands, regularly applying osmanthus oil and maintaining her nails in pristine condition. Yet now she had dug a grave with them for a mere puppet.

This version of Bai Fenghuo feels unreal, Yun Chuanzhi thought as she dug.

The stick soon struck something hard. Yun Chuanzhi tossed it aside and pulled the Iron Puppet out with both hands. The puppet was covered in mud, its joints stiff as if it were a statue carved from Mystic Iron.

Bai Fenghuo, having wiped away her tears, leaned closer, her long skirt trailing on the ground as she crouched down like a child, staring intently.

The faint fragrance of her body drifted into Yun Chuanzhi’s nostrils. Daring not to look up, Yun Chuanzhi wiped the mud from Whitey’s body with her sleeve.

She then retrieved a cloth-wrapped bundle from her waist and unfolded it with a clatter, revealing a row of chisels, axes, and saws.

These tools were what she had traded Bl00d Pills for over the past few days. They varied in size and material, some even showing signs of decay, but thankfully, they would all prove useful.

Yun Chuanzhi swiftly disassembled the Iron Puppet into several parts, picking them up to examine them closely.

“How is it?” Bai Fenghuo asked, her voice betraying barely suppressed anxiety.

“It’s hard to say,” Yun Chuanzhi replied, shaking her head. Though she usually appeared carefree, she became remarkably focused when dealing with her area of expertise, her delicate brows furrowing in concentration.

“Your Master likely didn’t put much effort into crafting this puppet. While the mechanisms are intricate, the materials are just ordinary Mystic Iron. After a century, the parts that should have rusted have long since done so.”

“A puppet capable of human-like behavior requires a constant supply of spiritual energy. Otherwise, it’s just an empty shell. Look at the Spirit Platform here—the spirit stone that originally provided energy has dimmed.”

“Then what can we do?” Bai Fenghuo pressed, ignoring Yun Chuanzhi’s disrespectful tone.

By now, Yun Chuanzhi had opened Whitey’s chest, revealing the pitch-black spirit stone inside. She pried it out. “Just replace it with something containing spiritual energy.”

With that, she glanced up at Bai Fenghuo, scrutinizing her from head to toe. Bai Fenghuo, though tempted to lash out at her audacity, barely managed to restrain herself.

For Whitey’s sake, I’ll tolerate this little slave for one more day, Bai Fenghuo thought, gritting her teeth.

“May I have a few strands of your hair?” Yun Chuanzhi asked, her gaze admiring Bai Fenghuo’s long hair cascading over her shoulders. Possessions of a powerful cultivator were more precious than any spirit stone.

“Thank you,” Yun Chuanzhi said, not waiting for Bai Fenghuo’s reply. She leaned forward, snipped a lock, and straightened up, her eyes lowered.

Taking without asking—what audacity! Bai Fenghuo’s fists clenched tighter and tighter. Finally, she lowered her head in frustration, picked up a stone, and crushed it to dust.

With deft fingers, Yun Chuanzhi wove the strands into a knot and used it to fill the gap in Whitey’s chest where the spirit stone had been. Then, she picked up a wooden stick and began drawing the Formation, its complexity far surpassing that of the original puppet’s design, nearly covering half the cave floor.

As the Formation took shape, the thunder outside subsided, though the rain intensified. Through the downpour, the wind howled wildly, and the mountains seemed to bow and sway like living beings.

Yun Chuanzhi’s back ached from the strain. She straightened up, massaging her lower back, and murmured the Heart Incantation, channeling spiritual energy through her fingertips to trace glowing lines.

The grooves of the Formation began to glow, as if filled with molten silver. Light surged from the central point, sinking into Whitey’s chest.

The once-black strands of hair ignited with a silvery flame, bursting into a sudden blaze.

“Is it done?” Bai Fenghuo asked softly, her eyes fixed on the shattered puppet, her voice tinged with worry. “No wonder Master was reluctant to teach This Seat the Artifact Refinement Technique. It’s truly exhausting.”

“Sect Leader, your words are mistaken,” Yun Chuanzhi said with a smile. “The Artifact Refinement Technique is vast and profound. It is indeed complex when one’s spiritual energy is weak, but when spiritual energy is abundant, a different method is required.”

In her previous life, repairing a puppet would have been as simple as snapping her fingers.

Seeing her confidence, Bai Fenghuo’s expression finally relaxed, regaining her usual composure. She glanced at the intently focused young woman.

“As This Seat understands it, you were merely a peasant girl before coming to Mount Everlasting Breath. How did you become so proficient in Artifact Refinement?” she asked softly.

Yun Chuanzhi pretended not to notice her gaze, continuing to oil Whitey’s joints as she replied, “Xiao Nu was sold into slavery as a child and only arrived at Mount Everlasting Breath at the end of last year.”

“During that time, Xiao Nu was bought and sold many times. For three years, I worked as a maid in an Artifact Refiner’s workshop, where I learned some basic skills.”

She had anticipated Bai Fenghuo’s probing and decided to fabricate a story. Any inconsistencies wouldn’t matter, as she wouldn’t believe her anyway.

The lie was merely a formality. As expected, Bai Fenghuo let out a soft hum and fell silent.

Whitey’s mechanisms were intricate. Yun Chuanzhi lowered her head, meticulously adjusting and oiling each part. The rhythmic clang of her tools mingled with the steady patter of rain, and her thoughts soon drifted far beyond the heavens.

She flew back to Avici City, many years ago.

At that time, Yun Chuanzhi was still a young girl, even younger than Cui Ergou is now. After her father died helping her snatch a steamed bun, her mother was devoured by evil spirits that surged forth at midnight.

That night, they hadn’t made it back to the temple in time and had been caught in a lunar eclipse, a day when demons swarmed. Countless shrieking evil spirits surged toward them like a tidal wave. Just as they were about to be overwhelmed, her mother used her last ounce of strength to lift Yun Chuanzhi onto a tree branch.

Clinging tightly to the branch, Yun Chuanzhi looked down. All that remained on the empty ground below was a pair of soiled embroidered shoes.

The taciturn Yun Chuanzhi neither cried nor made a fuss. She hung quietly in the tree all night, only fainting at dawn.

When she awoke, she was nestled in the arms of a woman with a scarred face. The woman, who was missing an arm, strolled through the misty morning streets.

“You’re awake,” the woman smiled. “What’s your name? Why were you lying alone in the wilderness, little one?”

“My surname is Yun,” Yun Chuanzhi said softly. “I don’t have a given name.”

“I’m called Gui Ren. I have no surname. You can call me Sister Guiren from now on,” the woman said cheerfully, despite her missing limb and disfigured face. “My days are numbered, so I can’t protect you for long. Would you like to learn Artifact Refinement from me?”

The iron tool clattered to the ground, jolting Yun Chuanzhi out of her reverie. She lowered her gaze to the puppet in her hand, its stiff limbs now moving smoothly.

She chanted a few more incantations and tapped the puppet’s head three times. The lifeless white ball suddenly snapped its eyes open.

“Little Immortal Slave, what are you doing here?” Whitey’s shrill voice exploded in her ears. She shoved Yun Chuanzhi aside, scanned the surroundings, and scampered over to Bai Fenghuo.

“Bai Fenghuo! I’m not dead! I’m alive!” She leaped onto Bai Fenghuo’s waist, swinging from her sleeve like a pendulum. “Have you missed me these past few days?”

“Not at all,” Bai Fenghuo replied, her composure fully restored. She glanced down at Whitey with a hint of annoyance. “Release This Seat. You’re suffocating me.”

With a flick of her sleeve, she tossed aside the Iron Puppet, as if the woman who had wept for an entire day and night had been someone else entirely.

This guy really can’t stand losing face, Yun Chuanzhi thought, watching Bai Fenghuo from the ground. She found the scene amusing but decided not to call her out, lest she vent her frustration on her.

Bai Fenghuo’s wide sleeves billowed gently as she lowered her hand, tucking Whitey into her sleeve. She then looked up at Yun Chuanzhi, whose face was etched with exhaustion. She had clearly seen the girl’s dazed expression earlier.

Her eyes were hollow, as if she had remembered someone from the past.

In that moment, she saw not Cui Ergou, but a solitary, forlorn soul out of place in this world.

“It’s getting dark. Are you going back?” Bai Fenghuo asked, stepping gracefully toward Yun Chuanzhi. After a moment’s hesitation, she plucked a flowing silk ribbon from her robes and tossed it onto Yun Chuanzhi’s head. “Take this.”

“Hold on tight. If lightning strikes you later, even This Seat won’t be able to save you.”

How could she possibly hold onto a single ribbon? Yun Chuanzhi pressed her lips together and threw it aside, then reached out and grabbed Bai Fenghuo’s sleeve.

The sudden weight yanked Bai Fenghuo forward two steps. She quickly regained her balance and opened her mouth to scold him, but remembering her debt to Yun Chuanzhi, she swallowed her anger.

Finally, she turned away, raised her hand to activate the Wind Manipulation Technique. As the wind brushed past her cheek, a barely audible “Thank you” escaped her lips.

“What did you say?” Yun Chuanzhi shouted over the wind, straining to hear.

“I said get lost!” Bai Fenghuo snapped.