The Villainess Always Tries to Seduce Me - Chapter 29

Yun Chuanzhi had only intended to say something amusing to comfort Ling Shui, never expecting Bai Fenghuo to pass by at that moment. Her cheeks flushed crimson, and she steadied her footing, her gaze drifting to the treetops.

Seeing her guilty expression, Bai Fenghuo surprisingly didn’t press the matter. She released Yun Chuanzhi’s arm and continued down the steps.

“With Core Sect Day postponed, it’s inconvenient for us to remain on the Main Peak. Let’s return to our sect.”

Yun Chuanzhi exchanged glances with Ling Shui and Cheng Jinshu. The three hurried after him, keeping pace behind him.

Ling Shui’s eyes remained fixed on Bai Fenghuo, her hand gripping the whip at her waist. “Sect Leader, about Sect Leader Qiu…”

“This Seat received the news before you did. I knew of her death the moment it happened.” Bai Fenghuo spoke as if utterly indifferent, her crimson lips curling into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. “Now that half the sect is imprisoned in the Heavenly Prison, my presence would only be that of an observer. It’s better to return to our sect and find some peace.”

“He deserved to die anyway. It’s just a pity her death was too swift, leaving This Seat no satisfaction.”

Bai Fenghuo spoke coldly, then seemed to melt into the bamboo forest at the foot of the steps, vanishing into the dense greenery. As the wind whistled past her ears, she took Ling Shui and Cheng Jinshu with her.

Yun Chuanzhi remained alone, still pacing beneath a flurry of falling bamboo leaves.

“Hey!” she called out to the sky. More leaves swirled down, rustling like a murmuring stream in the breeze.

It was just a little lie, Yun Chuanzhi thought with a sigh. Her heart’s as small as a needle’s eye. Resigned, she brushed aside the leaves and lowered her head, trudging through the mountainous terrain toward the Kun Dan Sect.

The news of Qiu Hanshan’s death caused a massive uproar that day, but by the next morning, only a few people were still discussing it. Whether the Sect Leaders had issued a gag order or not, within a few days, no one dared mention it again.

Since Qiu Hanshan had been chronically ill for years and rarely managed Sect affairs, her death had little impact on the daily cultivation routines of the Third Peak’s Immortal Cultivators.

Yun Chuanzhi privately pondered the matter repeatedly, finding it suspicious. But seeing Bai Fenghuo’s complete indifference, she quickly stopped dwelling on it.

The matter concluded satisfactorily, and Yun Chuanzhi resumed her tranquil life as an Immortal Servant, rising with the dawn and retiring at dusk, with ample leisure time to enjoy.

Mount Everlasting swiftly transitioned into the sweltering heat of summer. The scorching sun baked the flowers and grasses daily, even causing the bamboo grove outside Spring Encounter Pavilion to droop under the midday heat, its leaves hanging limp as if parched dry.

According to Ting Lingshui, this summer was particularly brutal. The heat had even melted some of the millennia-old glaciers atop Mount Everlasting’s highest peaks. The glacial meltwater converged into streams that cascaded through the mountain forests, eventually flowing down to the foothills.

In response, the Sect Leader and the Mountain-Guarding Elder ascended into the clouds and used Immortal Arts to summon several rainstorms, hoping to alleviate the drought plaguing the surrounding villages and towns. However, their efforts yielded only meager results.

On this particular day, the sky was clear and cloudless, perhaps due to the rain the previous day. A rare cool breeze swept through Kun Dan Sect, stirring Bai Fenghuo’s interest. She decided to take her Immortal Servant to Autumn Lament Garden to watch a performance.

Autumn Lament Garden, located at the southernmost edge of Kun Dan Sect, was a theater Bai Fenghuo had specially constructed to resemble the opera houses in the towns below. From a distance, its layered eaves seemed to float above the water pavilion, with dragon-headed gargoyles at each corner gazing in all directions. Beneath the theater lay a shimmering lake, where a painted barge drifted lazily.

Bai Fenghuo reclined in the center of the pavilion, surrounded by beauties like a cloud, while melodious music drifted from the opera stage.

Ling Shui stood rigidly at the shore, maintaining her guard, while Yun Chuanzhi had already retreated to the shade by the lake, fanning herself listlessly with a banana leaf fan larger than her own height.

The sun blazed with terrifying intensity, its rays scorching the earth like molten gold. Yun Chuanzhi squinted at Ling Shui, who stood bathed in the scorching sunlight, and felt genuine admiration.

Though Ling Shui, as an Immortal Cultivator, knew methods to ward off the heat, standing for so long in such heat would inevitably be draining. Yet she stared straight ahead, seemingly unaffected by the relentless glare.

“Sister Ling Shui, the Sect Leader can’t see us anyway! Why don’t you take a break?” Yun Chuanzhi called out toward the shore.

Ling Shui’s ear twitched slightly, but she didn’t turn around. She merely waved a hand in acknowledgment.

“So rigid and inflexible,” Yun Chuanzhi muttered to herself. “How did Bai Fenghuo ever take you as her disciple?” She pulled out a self-made blackwood parasol and stepped into the azure sky.

This parasol, specially crafted to ward off the heat, floated effortlessly above her head when opened, moving in sync with her footsteps.

Besides providing shade, the umbrella’s ribs were pierced with several air vents. As she walked, these vents drew in the surrounding air, transforming it into a cool breeze that dispelled the summer heat.

As she approached Ling Shui, the umbrella expanded, enveloping both of them in its shadow.

Ling Shui thanked her, then tilted her head to study the polished, jet-black ribs. “What kind of magical artifact is this?” she asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

“It’s not a magical artifact,” Yun Chuanzhi replied with a smile. “Just a little gadget I made for convenience. I call it Swing Bone.”

“Swing Bone?” Ling Shui’s almond-shaped eyes sparkled with amusement. “Why Swing Bone?”

“The handle is made from the discarded swing at Wuwu Cliff Top,” Yun Chuanzhi explained. “The ribs are immortal beast ribs I traded for from other Immortal Servants. Hence the name.”

Ling Shui examined the umbrella with fascination, reaching out to trace the intricate cloud patterns on the handle. “Such devices are rarely seen in the Sect. Er Gou, have you studied Artifact Refinement?”

“I learned a bit when I was younger,” Yun Chuanzhi said, rubbing her nose. “But these little tricks hardly count as Artifact Refinement. It’s more like carpentry.”

Ling Shui’s gaze swept over the girl’s smiling eyes, and she didn’t press the matter further.

The two stood by the shore, the cool breeze ruffling their hair as they gazed across the rippling lake toward the figures flitting across the stage in the opera house, their long sleeves swirling like clouds.

Yun Chuanzhi listened to the actor’s drawn-out, warbling performance for a while before shaking her head and asking, “What’s the meaning of this opera? It sounds like bird calls—I can’t understand a word.”

Ling Shui leaned closer, her voice soft. “This is the most famous opera troupe from Ji City, down the mountain. The actor singing now is their most renowned performer, known as the Painted Eyebrow Immortal.”

“His voice is incredibly melodious and moving, especially when she sings the Drunken Mountain Ballad. He’s also a master of ventriloquism, able to mimic dozens of voices without using Immortal Arts.”

Yun Chuanzhi nodded slowly. On stage, the scene had reached its tragic climax. The actor, wielding two cold blades, was surrounded by several martial artists, her operatic wails echoing like mournful cries.

Ling Shui’s eyes welled with tears as she listened. She wiped them away with her sleeve and, noticing Yun Chuanzhi’s stillness, comforted her, “You can feel the sorrow in it too, right?”

Yun Chuanzhi suddenly snapped awake, her eyes still hazy with sleep. She turned to Ling Shui, “What did you say? Shan Qing?”

Like playing the lute to a cow, Ling Shui ignored Yun Chuanzhi’s words, straightening her back and watching with her hands clasped behind her.

After the first act of the opera concluded, the “Painted Eyebrow Immortal” spun gracefully offstage. Two clowns entered, their banter filling the air. Yun Chuanzhi was beginning to doze off when sudden screams erupted from within the painted barge. The calm lake surface rippled as the barge rocked violently.

Ling Shui snapped out of her reverie, her voice sharp as she called out, “Sect Leader!” Her snow-white figure shot forward like an arrow, landing nimbly on the barge.

Yun Chuanzhi, now fully awake, retracted the Swing Bone and hurried inside.

The once-festive barge was now in chaos. Several beauties in green silk gowns huddled in corners, covering their ears. The central table had been split in two, its pastries and fruits scattered across the floor.

“What’s happening here?!” Ling Shui demanded, her whip held taut as she stood protectively before Bai Fenghuo.

Bai Fenghuo leaned casually against a meditation chair, her delicate hand propping up her head, seemingly indifferent to the chaos around her. Yet the grape she held had been crushed between her fingers, its crimson juice trickling down her hand.

Yun Chuanzhi, determined to please Bai Fenghuo, leaned forward obsequiously and carefully wiped the juice from the woman’s pale hand with a handkerchief.

When the juice was gone, leaving only a red stain on her smooth nails, Yun Chuanzhi lowered her head and breathed on Bai Fenghuo’s fingertips before wiping them again.

Sensing the dampness, Bai Fenghuo abruptly withdrew her hand and flicked Yun Chuanzhi’s forehead. Yun Chuanzhi hissed and crouched behind the chair.

“Sect Leader, what’s wrong?” she whispered.

“Can’t you see? Some reckless little girl tried to assassinate This Seat,” Bai Fenghuo said smoothly as she slowly sat up. “Such arrogance, and she ruined my enjoyment of the opera.”

“Drag her to the Demon Smelting Cave and feed her to the beasts,” she ordered, her gaze fixed on a corner of the painted boat.

Only then did Yun Chuanzhi and Ling Shui notice a person lying there, buried so deeply under the shattered rafters that they had been completely hidden.

Ling Shui hurried forward, sweeping aside the wooden debris and pulling out the dazed woman. She turned and tossed her into the center of the group, her brow furrowed. “You Tan?”

You Tan looked up in a panic before lowering her head again. “Sect Leader, I’ve been with the sect for three years now. Perhaps…”

“Three years? What of it?” Bai Fenghuo’s willow-leaf eyes, reflecting the sunlight glinting off the lake, held a chilling edge as she stared at Ling Shui. “Are you trying to plead for her?”

“Xiao Pu wouldn’t dare,” Ling Shui replied hastily, clutching her sleeves and bending to retrieve You Tan’s limp body. As she moved, she glanced briefly at Yun Chuanzhi.

Having spent over two months with Ling Shui, Yun Chuanzhi understood her meaning perfectly. She had no desire to provoke Bai Fenghuo’s wrath, but remembering Ling Shui’s recent promise of two days’ leave, she found herself torn.

Survival was paramount, yet she couldn’t bear to give up her hard-earned rest.

After a moment’s hesitation, she spoke up. “Sect Leader, perhaps we should ask her why she attempted the assassination? What if…”

“Ling Shui, put her down,” Bai Fenghuo ordered.

To her surprise, Ling Shui obeyed. Yun Chuanzhi raised an eyebrow, unable to conceal her astonishment.

Ling Shui sighed in relief. She slowly lowered You Tan, checking her breath with her knuckles before sliding her palm across You Tan’s forehead, jolting her awake.

A pink-edged utpala flower was painted on the woman’s forehead. She abruptly sat up, lunging at Bai Fenghuo with the ferocity of a deep-seated hatred, the dagger in her hand trembling violently.

“You Tan, no!” Ling Shui stepped forward, yanking her back. Her long whip coiled around You Tan’s body like a dragon, binding her tightly.

“What are you doing? How dare you try to harm the Sect Leader with your meager cultivation! Have you lost your mind?” Ling Shui snapped, her rare anger blazing.

You Tan was dragged to the ground by the whip, her hair splayed across the damp earth, yet she remained oblivious, her eyes fixed on Bai Fenghuo with murderous intensity.

Two streams of tears soaked into her hair as she muttered, “I’ll kill you… I’ll kill you…”

How could she harbor such hatred? Yun Chuanzhi wondered, retreating behind Bai Fenghuo.

He whispered, “Sect Leader, did you slaughter her entire family?”