The Villainess Always Tries to Seduce Me - Chapter 38

The familiar name leaped from Bai Fenghuo’s lips, leaving Yun Chuanzhi stunned for a long moment. She leaned forward, seeking confirmation. “What?”

Assuming Yun Chuanzhi couldn’t read well, Bai Fenghuo raised her index finger, its tip glowing like a wisp of white cloud. Three elegant, calligraphic characters materialized in mid-air.

“There,” Bai Fenghuo repeated. “Yun Chuanzhi.”

She hadn’t misheard. Those were indeed the three characters. Yun Chuanzhi struggled to describe the shock that coursed through her, as if after a lifetime of wandering and disguise, she had suddenly encountered a long-forgotten acquaintance on the street.

Her mind churned like a tempest, leaving her disoriented.

Bai Fenghuo, unnerved by her unwavering gaze, dispelled the floating characters and unconsciously tugged at her collar. “You don’t like it?” she asked, her tone displeased.

“No,” Yun Chuanzhi replied, shaking off her daze with a smile. “If the Sect Leader bestows this name upon me, how could I not like it? From now on, I am Yun Chuanzhi.”

“Hmm.” Bai Fenghuo eyed her suspiciously for a moment before rising and approaching the bed. Her slumped shoulders betrayed her exhaustion. “This Seat is weary. You may leave.”

Yun Chuanzhi turned to leave as instructed, but Bai Fenghuo suddenly changed her mind, her voice drifting softly, “Never mind, stay for now.”

With you in the room, This Seat can sleep more soundly, Bai Fenghuo thought to herself, but she didn’t voice the thought. Instead, she silently slipped under the covers, closing her eyes with shallow breaths.

Though Yun Chuanzhi didn’t understand why she was being asked to stay again, she obediently complied. She picked up the scissors, extinguished the candles, leaving only a small lamp by the window, its flickering light casting rippling shadows in the gentle breeze.

The night wind was gentle, flower shadows swayed, and the cicadas’ song was subdued, lending an unusual stillness to the night.

Yun Chuanzhi sat cross-legged on Bai Fenghuo’s beauty couch, dozing off. After some time, Bai Fenghuo’s voice broke the silence once more.

“Yun Chuanzhi, have you ever felt lonely?” she asked.

The sleepiness that had been creeping over Yun Chuanzhi was abruptly dispelled. She struggled to open her eyes, pondered for a moment, and replied, “Of course.”

Bai Fenghuo pressed further, “For example?”

Why is this old woman suddenly in the mood for such nonsense in the middle of the night? Yun Chuanzhi thought, her eyelids heavy with exhaustion and her reaction time slowed. After a long pause, she finally answered, “For example, when it feels like I’m the only one left in the world.”

“As if?” Bai Fenghuo’s voice rose slightly at the end.

“Yes, when I realized that no one in this life would ever care about me again.” Yun Chuanzhi shifted her position, curling up on the couch. Her gaze fixed on the blurred flower shadows outside the window, the hazy moonlight filtering through the paper, painting it with a layer of silvery frost.

This reminded her of Avici City during a blizzard. The snow blanketed the broken wells and crumbling walls, masking the filthy, muddy ground with a veneer of sanctity, as if sealing away all its sins.

The heavy snow had also sealed away the last vestiges of Yun Chuanzhi’s life. The freshly filled grave, still without a headstone, was hastily buried by the impatient snow, leaving nothing but an endless expanse of white, erasing any trace of the mound.

Sister Guiren had died on the day Yun Chuanzhi had long calculated. This was the third farewell she had endured.

Perhaps from exhaustion, Yun Chuanzhi drifted off to sleep as she reminisced. Her deep, steady breaths filled the quiet night. Bai Fenghuo turned over, her mind growing increasingly clear.

She bit her lip, regretting her decision to let Yun Chuanzhi stay. She grabbed a pillow, intending to wake the girl with a toss, but froze when she saw Yun Chuanzhi’s frail, hunched back turned away from her.

Fine, Bai Fenghuo thought, lowering her gaze. She gently set down the pillow, rose, and strolled to the window, using the moonlight and flickering shadows to observe Yun Chuanzhi.

“Why are you still so thin? It’s as if the Kun Dan Sect has been mistreating you,” Bai Fenghuo said, displeasure evident in her voice. She reached out and nudged Yun Chuanzhi’s shoulder, flipping her onto her back, limbs sprawled awkwardly.

The beauty couch was too narrow. Though Yun Chuanzhi was petite, her limbs still couldn’t stretch out fully, pressing uncomfortably against the backrest. Yet she slept soundly, as if lost in a dream, her brow furrowed tightly.

“Heartless creature, even you have nightmares,” Bai Fenghuo scoffed, tucking her sleeves. After watching for a moment, she leaned down, intending to carry Yun Chuanzhi back to her room.

But when her jade-like hand touched the girl’s shoulder, she froze abruptly, as if realizing something. Straightening, she released a silken ribbon from her sleeve, which silently coiled around Yun Chuanzhi, lifting her into the air.

Stealthily carrying Yun Chuanzhi to Ling Shui’s room, Bai Fenghuo gently set her down before dissolving into a wisp of smoke.

The night passed peacefully.

The next morning, Yun Chuanzhi awoke on the couch, her eyes still heavy with sleep. She glanced at Cheng Jinshu, who was also stirring awake, and Ling Shui, already dressed and ready, and greeted them with a sleepy “Good morning.”

“The Sect Leader is returning to her family home early this morning. You two need to hurry up and get ready—don’t keep her waiting,” Ling Shui said hurriedly before rushing off to prepare breakfast, leaving Yun Chuanzhi and Cheng Jinshu yawning at each other.

Yun Chuanzhi rubbed her sleepy eyes, then suddenly realized something was off. “Didn’t I stand guard in the Sect Leader’s room last night? Did you bring me back here?”

“I went straight to bed after returning to my room yesterday. I didn’t have the energy to deal with you,” Cheng Jinshu replied, shaking her head. Too lazy to dress properly, she simply conjured clothes with her spiritual energy. “Maybe you walked back yourself and just forgot.”

Could that be it? Yun Chuanzhi glanced at herself doubtfully, but something felt off.

She didn’t dwell on it. After tidying herself up, she followed Cheng Jinshu out of the room.

A faint morning mist shrouded the courtyard, the rising sun piercing through the haze to drape the distant, towering rooftops in a shimmering veil.

Bai Fenghuo, unusually not wearing her usual purple robes, stood with her back to them, clad in a light blue silk robe with a cinched waist and wide sleeves. Her hair was loosely tied, her silhouette strikingly elegant.

He stood ramrod straight, listening intently to the two women chattering beside him.

“Mother!” Ling Shui cried out, recognizing the pair. She darted forward like a gust of wind, pulling her parents apart with a hand on each. Her head remained bowed as she demanded, “What are you doing here?!”

“Ling Shui,” Bai Fenghuo said sternly, her expression grave. “How dare you speak so disrespectfully to your parents? Step aside at once.”

Ling Shui’s almond-shaped eyes widened slightly. She raised her head to meet Bai Fenghuo’s gaze, then lowered it again, clasping her hands before her. “Yes,” she murmured.

She glanced nervously at the Jiang City Guard, then at Li Chengxian, who was struggling to contain her excitement. Bowing deeply, she retreated between Yun Chuanzhi and Cheng Jinshu, who drew her close for a whispered exchange.

“Don’t you think Aunt’s attire is a bit different today?” Cheng Jinshu murmured.

Yun Chuanzhi nodded in agreement. “Much more subdued. She’s wearing no gold, silver, or jade—almost like one of those reclusive cultivators who shun worldly possessions.”

Ling Shui gripped the long whip at her waist, her thin lips pressed into a tight line. She remained silent, her heart racing.

“Immortal Bai,” Li Chengxian said, her eyes reddening as she bowed deeply to Bai Fenghuo. “I’ve heard you are the Sect Leader of one of Mount Everlasting’s peaks—a position of great power and prestige. Yet you’ve deigned to accept my humble daughter as your disciple. I am truly grateful…”

Bai Fenghuo raised a hand in a gesture of support, her expression remaining composed. “Please rise,” she said warmly.

On the other side, Jiang City Guard clasped her hands in prayer. “Ling Shui is our only daughter,” she said. “We’ve long hoped she would become an Immortal Cultivator and bring glory to our family. Whenever we asked about it, she always avoided the question, which worried me greatly. Now that I’ve met her Master in person, a weight has finally lifted from my heart.”

“As City Lord, I’ve heard much of Sect Leader Bai’s renown. Fortunately, the rumors have dispelled themselves, restoring her good name. We humbly request that Sect Leader Bai continue to guide Ling Shui. We offer our deepest gratitude.”

Li Chengxian had just been helped to her feet when Jiang Fangyu knelt in a deep bow. Bai Fenghuo quickly stopped her, smiling gently. “City Lord Jiang’s dedication to her people is truly admirable,” she said. “Moreover, Ling Shui is a member of my sect, intelligent and meticulous. Rest assured, I will personally ensure her proper guidance.”

Hearing this, Jiang Fangyu and Li Chengxian were moved to tears of gratitude. They pressed the prepared food and wine into Bai Fenghuo’s hands, who naturally refused. The three ended up in a comical tug-of-war in the narrow courtyard.

Yun Chuanzhi and Cheng Jinshu stood aside, watching the scene unfold. Both struggled to suppress their laughter, their lips pressed into tight lines.

“Where did Bai Fenghuo learn this righteous, aloof act?” Yun Chuanzhi murmured, covering her mouth to hide her amusement. “It’s actually quite convincing. Has she always been this concerned with appearances?”

“She’s much more restrained now,” Cheng Jinshu said with a smile, mimicking Yun Chuanzhi’s gesture of covering her lips. “She was even worse when Grandmaster was still alive. I never imagined the Sect Leader would help Ling Shui tell a lie.”

“I didn’t think she had even a shred of human decency left,” Yun Chuanzhi replied, lowering her hand and glancing at Bai Fenghuo, unable to suppress the curve of her lips.

The lingering mist had completely dissipated, allowing sunlight to flood the courtyard unhindered. Bai Fenghuo finally accepted the gifts of gratitude from Jiang City Guard and Li Chengxian, offering a helpless smile as she summoned Ling Shui. “Ling Shui, hold these for This Seat.”

Ling Shui hurried forward to accept the gifts, her clear eyes brimming with gratitude as she looked at Bai Fenghuo, words catching in her throat.

Bai Fenghuo avoided her gaze, her robes trailing behind her as she swept past the crowd and out the door. Jiang City Guard and Li Chengxian bowed deeply behind him, tears streaming down their faces.

Ling Shui bid farewell to her family, wiping the corners of her eyes as she followed Bai Fenghuo. Yun Chuanzhi was the last to step over the threshold, pausing briefly before turning back to stand before the weeping Jiang City Guard.

“Jiang City Guard,” Yun Chuanzhi said, pulling out the pouch of spirit stones Bai Fenghuo had given her. A pang of regret struck her heart—so many spirit stones, yet she had treasured them for two days without daring to touch a single one.

Now, before they had even warmed in her hands, they were about to slip away.

Ling Shui had mentioned that her clan had cultivated immortality for generations and could easily obtain Phoenix tears. This suggested she came from a privileged background. Although Jiang Fangyu and Li Chengxian were considered ordinary among their kin, they were still cultivators. Logically, such a family shouldn’t be living in such poverty.

She asked, “I’ve heard you established a place called Pearl Jade Hall in the city, specifically to shelter children orphaned by natural disasters and human calamities. Li Dagou escaped after being taken in by Pearl Jade Hall, didn’t he?”

The Jiang City Guard lowered her head, wiping tears with her sleeve. She replied with a faint smile, “As City Lord, I lack great abilities. I can only do small things within my means.”

Yun Chuanzhi gazed at her silently, then suddenly placed the bag of spirit stones in the City Lord’s palm before turning to leave.

Ignoring the City Lord’s shocked pleas for her to stay, she closed the door behind her and hurried to catch up with Bai Fenghuo, trailing behind her with a melancholy air.

Bai Fenghuo glanced sideways at Yun Chuanzhi, the sunlight catching the strands of hair at her forehead. She quickly averted her gaze and resumed her measured pace.

Ahead, Cheng Jinshu was chattering to Ling Shui, seemingly trying to comfort her. To their right, a squad of Walking Gods on tall warhorses emerged from the gates of the Military Affairs Office, their heads held high as they strode forward.

At the same moment, the mournful strains of an opera drifted from the depths of the prison, its voice twisting and turning, tearing at the heart.

“Bl00d stains the maple-lined road, a year has passed, yet who speaks of dawn and dusk? Another year, flowers bloom in splendor, but the departed still do not return…”

With the clang of a blade hitting the ground, the singing abruptly ceased, leaving the vast drill ground of the Military Affairs Office in deathly silence. Bai Fenghuo, however, seemed oblivious, her expression unchanged as she calmly strode down the long street.

“You liked those spirit stones, didn’t you? Why give them away?” Bai Fenghuo slowed her pace, waiting for Yun Chuanzhi to catch up and walk beside him.

“Perhaps because I hate being hungry,” Yun Chuanzhi replied with a smile, tossing her last spirit stone into the air and catching it. Her answer seemed utterly nonsensical.

She simply hated being hungry, and she hated seeing those skeletal children starving. Their plight reminded her of her own youth, when she would go three to five days without food, fainting from hunger only to wake up still starving, a truly pitiful existence.

Besides, now that she was on Mount Everlasting, the spirit stones were of little use to her.

“Don’t worry,” Bai Fenghuo said, her voice soft and languid, almost too faint to be heard. “You won’t go hungry again.”

“What?” Yun Chuanzhi looked up.

“This Seat said,” Bai Fenghuo chuckled, “This Seat wants chicken soup again.”