The Villainess Always Tries to Seduce Me - Chapter 37

The assembled crowd trembled at these words, their gazes toward Bai Fenghuo a mix of shock, fear, and grudging admiration. They had witnessed countless massacres, but never before had they seen someone meticulously record each kill. Truly terrifying.

The woman lowered her gaze to the register, her long sleeves concealing palms digging bloody crescents into her flesh. Her bangs hung low, obscuring her expression.

Bai Fenghuo, uninterested in her reaction, continued, “According to this record, Pei Xunqian was born in Dawa Village on Jade Lotus Mountain, with a family of four. In the 352nd year of the Qianyuan Era, a sudden wildfire ravaged Jade Lotus Mountain, claiming the lives of her parents. Only Pei Xunqian and her elder brother, Pei Shaoqing, escaped, wandering as beggars until they reached Youji City.”

“In the 354th year of the Qianyuan Era, Pei Xunqian seized an opportunity to enter Mount Everlasting Breath, becoming an Immortal Servant tasked with serving tea to This Seat. Had she remained obedient and fulfilled her duties, I would have left her unharmed. However, Pei Xunqian harbored sinister intentions. During a moment of my weakness, she slipped Joyous Union Powder into my teacup, sealing her own fate.”

“You’re lying!” The woman who had been silent until now finally snapped, veins bulging on her pale forehead. “Qianqian has always been obedient and sensible since she was a child. She would never do such a vile thing!”

“Everyone knows you’re a scoundrel! You must have tried to violate my sister and failed, or perhaps she offended you in some trivial matter, and you took revenge!”

Tears streamed down the man’s face as she staggered toward Bai Fenghuo. Ling Shui blocked her path with a whip. “Murderer! How dare you insult the Sect Leader!”

The situation shifted too quickly for anyone to keep up. Even the Celestial Emperor City delegation, who had been so confident moments before, were now stunned into silence, unsure where to begin their defense. As for the mortal Jiang City Guard and the others, they could only gape in disbelief.

Outside the courtyard, the commoners were captivated, listening as if to a storyteller. They began heatedly discussing the matter. One said, “I heard Sect Leader Bai has a terrible reputation. They say she’s obsessed with beauty and has kidnapped countless innocent women and women, imprisoning them in her immortal estate for her twisted amusement.”

Another added, “If what the Painted Eyebrow Immortal says is true, then her sister is truly pitiful.”

“Even if that’s true,” someone argued, “what about the innocent civilians who were killed? If she wanted revenge, she should have stormed Mount Everlasting Breath directly. What kind of skill is it to slaughter defenseless mortals?”

“Brother Zheng speaks the truth,” another agreed. “Patriarch Li’s newborn son, barely a month old, was cruelly murdered. This so-called ‘Painted Eyebrow Immortal’ is more like a ‘Painted Eyebrow Ghost.'”

Seeing the varied expressions and conflicting thoughts on everyone’s faces, Yun Chuanzhi decided it was her duty to speak up. She silently raised her hand. “That day, as the Immortal Servant on duty, I personally witnessed Pei Xunqian drugging the Sect Leader.”

His words shattered the silence, drawing numerous gazes. After a moment, Bai Xiaochen asked slowly, “Did Bai Fenghuo drink it?”

“Yes,” Yun Chuanzhi replied.

The gazes intensified. For the first time, Bai Xiaochen’s usually impassive features showed a flicker of emotion as she scrutinized Yun Chuanzhi from head to toe.

“Sect Leader, don’t look at me,” Yun Chuanzhi said bluntly, spreading her hands. “I wasn’t the one who cured her.”

“Cui Ergou,” Bai Fenghuo murmured with a faint, almost mocking smile.

Then, she pushed the fruit plate in front of her and tapped it sharply with her fingernails. “Eat quickly and shut your mouth.”

Pei Shaoqing watched their actions, her eyes burning with rage. But the Ling Shui barrier prevented her from getting anywhere near Bai Fenghuo. Finally, she hissed, “You vile villain, colluding with your subordinates! You…”

“This Seat has never claimed to be virtuous,” Bai Fenghuo replied calmly. “Even at my most ruthless, I only punish those who deliberately offend me. But you? Did those innocent civilians ever wrong you? You didn’t even bother to uncover the truth before sacrificing their lives to frame me. How are you any better?”

“Blinded by hatred, you stubbornly cling to your own path. Deep down, you know Pei Xunqian’s death may not have been my fault. This so-called revenge is merely an excuse for your own self-destruction.”

Bai Fenghuo’s eyes remained serene and unwavering as she spoke in a soft, measured tone. Her silk robes shimmered in the sunlight. Yun Chuanzhi, peeling grapes, glanced up at her and found herself momentarily entranced.

Bai Fenghuo was undeniably alluring, yet her refined, willow-leaf eyes tempered this allure. If one focused solely on her eyes, one could even discern a hint of compassion for humanity.

The grapes in Yun Chuanzhi’s hand fell onto her lap with a splat, jolting her out of her daze. She scrambled to pick up the crushed grapes, her hands moving frantically.

Pei Shaoqing, however, remained unmoved. Her fists clenched, she glared at Bai Fenghuo, her breath coming in ragged gasps as if she wanted to tear her apart with her gaze.

General Tu Yun, who had been silent for a long time, spoke again: “There’s still something I don’t understand.”

“Pei Shaoqing is merely a mortal. Even with exceptional skills, how could she have killed so many people in just a month? Moreover, the corpses’ organs were completely shattered, and their bl00d was drained dry—an impossible feat.”

“General Tu Yun, having long resided in high halls, seems unaware that mortals also possess cultivation techniques. Martial arts, poison arts, qi cultivation—mastering just one allows them to perform feats comparable to those of Immortal Cultivators.”

Bai Fenghuo waved her slender hand, and a Death Warrior emerged from the shadows. The warrior produced two porcelain bottles—one black, one white—and two lively rats that squeaked and scurried. She tossed the rats onto the ground and sprinkled powder from the black bottle over them.

The powder drifted down like snowflakes, coating the rats. Yet they continued to leap and chase each other within the circle the Death Warrior had drawn.

He then scattered the powder from the white porcelain bottle into the air. The moment the powder settled, the previously lively rat froze in terror, as if it had seen a ghost. It frantically clawed at the ground, fleeing as if pursued by death itself. As it ran, bl00d streamed from its seven orifices until it collapsed, lifeless.

Witnessing the gruesome deaths of two living creatures before her eyes, the soft-hearted Jiang City Guard covered her eyes, whimpering, unable to bear the sight.

“What is this substance?” Bai Xiaochen frowned.

“This is the Black and White Death Powder, a deadly poison long lost to the mortal realm,” Bai Fenghuo said with a smile. “Individually, neither powder is harmful. But when combined, they dissolve internal organs and drain all vital energy.”

“We Immortal Cultivators, accustomed to the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, tend to be arrogant and dismissive of mortal techniques. It was only recently that This Seat was astonished by the ingenuity of mortals, who could devise such a potent poison.”

“Dawa Village, the birthplace of Pei Xunqian and Pei Shaoqing, is the origin of this poison. For millennia, it was known as the Dawa Poison Stronghold, secretly trading in poisons. Only after being exposed did they abandon their wicked ways and begin cultivating crops.”

Bai Fenghuo had been secretly investigating this matter since its earliest signs. Today’s revelations merely confirmed her suspicions.

Yun Chuanzhi listened, increasingly impressed by Bai Fenghuo’s strategic brilliance. Every event seemed to unfold exactly as she had predicted.

Jiang City Guard, still covering her eyes, cautiously spoke, “During my investigation these past few days, I noticed that every household targeted had hired opera troupes to perform for several consecutive days before their massacres. At first, I dismissed it as coincidence, but now I realize…”

“Pei Shaoqing must have used those days inside the residences to poison the well water or food. After clearing her name, she returned to administer a second poison, causing the victims to die in such terrifying and bizarre ways.”

“The Jiang City Guard’s assessment is correct, but the second poisoning wasn’t carried out by Pei Shaoqing herself. It was likely the unfortunate Liu Dagou who was manipulated into sneaking into the residences through dog holes or by scaling the walls.”

“Having grown up among beasts, Liu Dagou is agile, swift, and small, making her exceptionally good at hiding. Using her to administer the poison ensured no one would ever suspect a thing.”

Bai Fenghuo turned to Pei Shaoqing and asked, “Is it true or not?”

Pei Shaoqing remained silent for a long moment, her tear-filled eyes fixed on Bai Fenghuo. Her gaze was a mix of hatred and anguish, before she suddenly let out a bitter laugh. The Actor’s long sleeves billowed as black poisonous mist erupted from her body, spreading rapidly.

“Protect the Sect Leader! Protect Sect Leader Bai!” Ling Shui, the other blue-robed Immortal Cultivators, and the Walking Gods of the Military Affairs Office charged forward in unison. Beneath the swirling black mist, Yun Chuanzhi remained calm as if watching a play, even popping a grape into her mouth.

After all she had witnessed, Yun Chuanzhi now saw Bai Fenghuo as reliable as a mountain—someone who anticipated every move and left no loose ends, inspiring an extraordinary sense of security.

I’ve latched onto the right thigh, she thought.

As expected, before the others could even reach him, Bai Fenghuo had already conjured a barrier to block the poisonous mist. A phoenix eye materialized in mid-air, instantly devouring the black miasma.

“Why are there always such overconfident fools?” Bai Fenghuo murmured, shaking out her sleeves. The rushing crowd pinned the woman to the ground, and a hoarse cry rose from the crowd—a mournful howl of cathartic rage.

Bai Fenghuo covered her ears, unwilling to hear any more. She straightened her back and rose, her graceful figure swaying as she walked through the aisle beneath the stage. The crowd at the entrance parted like the tide, clearing a wide path for her.

She glanced back at General Tu Yun, her face twisted with suppressed anger. “Since there’s nothing else, This Seat will take her leave.”

With that, she rolled her eyes dramatically at her in front of the entire courtyard before turning to leave. Yun Chuanzhi, Ling Shui, and Cheng Jinshu hurried after her, their figures trailing one another as they disappeared into the city’s winding streets.

The Jiang City Guard and others were busy interrogating Pei Shaoqing and didn’t return home that night, so the group stayed at Jiang Manor again.

Ling Shui and Cheng Jinshu, who hadn’t eaten properly that morning, vehemently opposed Yun Chuanzhi cooking again. They insisted on hiring a chef from a local restaurant to prepare a lavish feast at the manor. The table overflowed with delicacies, and the three ate their fill, thoroughly satisfied.

Only Bai Fenghuo showed little interest in the dishes, eating even less than she had that morning. After a few bites, she set down her chopsticks and returned to her room.

Ling Shui remained composed, but Cheng Jinshu, having indulged in Youji City’s century-old wine, stumbled slightly as she and Yun Chuanzhi escorted Bai Fenghuo to her door. Waving goodbye, Cheng Jinshu called out, “Er Gou, Er Gou, see you tomorrow morning!”

Yun Chuanzhi didn’t understand what she meant, nor did she feel like arguing with a drunken fool. She stood under the eaves, holding her wine cup, intending to wait until Cheng Jinshu fell asleep before returning to her room.

Unexpectedly, the door behind her suddenly opened, and Bai Fenghuo’s voice called out, “It’s cool outside. Come in.”

Cool? Yun Chuanzhi wondered. It’s the height of summer!

Whether they’re drunk or sober, everyone’s acting strange, she thought to herself, but she still peeked inside.

The woman had changed into a pristine white nightgown, her slender figure silhouetted against the wide-open window. The breeze stirred her hem, revealing a jade-white wrist adorned with a loosely hanging jade bracelet.

The shadows of her swaying waist flickered beneath the thin fabric, like a phantom born of moonlight—ethereal yet sacred.

Yun Chuanzhi’s gaze lingered on her back, the graceful curves beneath the gown imprinted clearly in her mind. She quickly averted her eyes, puzzled by this sudden discomfort.

Fortunately, Bai Fenghuo spoke, her usual haughty tone easing the awkwardness. “Cui Ergou, what are you dawdling for? Are you drunk too?”

“I’m not drunk,” Yun Chuanzhi replied, setting down her wine cup. “I don’t like alcohol. It feels like swallowing a mouthful of fire—it’s awful.”

Bai Fenghuo let out an ambiguous laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Yun Chuanzhi demanded.

“I’m laughing at you for daring to speak to This Seat like that after just a few drinks,” Bai Fenghuo said, glancing back at her as she turned. Her robes swirled as she settled onto the daybed by the bed.

“I don’t like the name Cui Ergou,” Yun Chuanzhi sighed, walking up to Bai Fenghuo. She knelt halfway down, her apricot eyes reflecting the soft moonlight. “It’s not pleasant to hear.”

“Hmm, what name do you prefer?” Bai Fenghuo asked.

“I like…”

“Enough. You belong to This Seat, so your name should be chosen by me,” Bai Fenghuo interrupted, her tone utterly domineering. “What surname do you want?”

“Yun,” Yun Chuanzhi replied. She had considered revealing her original name, but knew Bai Fenghuo would never allow it.

Yun Chuanzhi cared little for names. As long as it wasn’t something ridiculous like “Cat” or “Dog,” she was fine with anything. She rested her chin in her hand and said, “Just pick whatever you like.”

Bai Fenghuo frowned in thought, then suddenly reached out to touch her own shoulder, stroking it lightly as if in fond remembrance.

He spoke, “My Master often recited a phrase during her cultivation: ‘Mountains Still, Rivers Flow, Feng She Rises.’ My own name was derived from these words.”

“Since Feng She has already been used, you shall be called Yun Chuanzhi.”