The Villainess Always Tries to Seduce Me - Chapter 6

This isn’t serving a Sect Leader; it’s clearly…

Yun Chuanzhi timidly offered a word of thanks.

The shock in Bai Fenghuo’s eyes quickly transformed into murderous intent. Concealing the movement with her sleeve, she flipped her hand, conjuring a violet energy sword in her palm. The blade trembled like her seething rage, emitting a faint hum.

Yun Chuanzhi heard it clearly. She lifted her chopsticks, closed her eyes slightly, and braced herself, waiting tensely.

With a whoosh, the energy sword shot from her palm, the cold wind it stirred whipping Yun Chuanzhi’s hair. The blade slashed past her throat, severing the hem of her skirt that she still held.

“You little slave, you have quite the nerve,” Bai Fenghuo murmured softly, her voice as ethereal as a flute’s melody drifting through the clouds, betraying no emotion.

“No one in this world dares to trifle with Bai Fenghuo like this.”

Yun Chuanzhi remained silent, gripping her chopsticks tightly, her head bowed, her body feigning a slight tremor. The woman leaned down, her smooth, jade-like hand gently caressing Yun Chuanzhi’s cheek in a flirtatious manner, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake.

“Excellent. This one is quite pleased.” She lightly brushed away a lingering tear from the corner of Yun Chuanzhi’s eye with her fingertip.

“Ling Shui,” Bai Fenghuo said lazily, straightening up. In an instant, Ling Shui appeared beside him.

“My old wounds haven’t fully healed, and I’m feeling fatigued,” Bai Fenghuo said, covering her lips with slender fingers, her expression weary. “Help me to the Medical Immortal’s abode to rest. Little Immortal Servant Cui will now serve you; you must guide her well.”

Ling Shui responded with a soft “Yes,” her gaze sweeping over Yun Chuanzhi, who remained seated on the floor.

A delicate fragrance drifted past Yun Chuanzhi’s nose, gradually fading as the wooden door closed. Left alone in the chamber, she immediately dropped her terrified act and began eating her meal with deliberate slowness.

Her acting skills were on par with the Scumbag Sect Leader’s—equally mediocre. Yet in certain situations, a performance was necessary to advance her plans.

She had deliberately provoked Bai Fenghuo earlier to test him, confirming her suspicions: Bai Fenghuo was indeed wary of her. The reason for this remained a mystery.

Even if Bai Fenghuo knew she had been possessed, it wouldn’t explain her restraint. Yun Chuanzhi didn’t believe her current frail body posed any threat to the powerful Bai Fenghuo.

Regardless of the reason, her life had been spared. Though she had prepared herself for death, surviving—especially in the spiritually rich Qianyuan Realm—couldn’t be a bad thing.

As Yun Chuanzhi pondered this, a sense of elation gradually welled up within her. She picked up her chopsticks and tasted a dish from the table, and her joy reached its peak.

The fresh, crisp vegetables exploded in her mouth, their delicate fragrance enveloping her palate. In Avici City, such fresh produce was unheard of; the finest meals consisted of thick, viscous soups sealed in glass jars.

Not to mention the glistening Dongpo pork, dripping with savory juices, the sweet honey-glazed water, and the fragrant, fluffy Poria and Osmanthus Cake. Yun Chuanzhi lowered her head and devoured the entire feast, stopping only when her stomach was stretched to its limit.

She then lay comfortably on the floor. The afternoon sun streamed through the window lattice, warming the wooden floor beneath her. Not a trace of spring’s chill remained.

As the leaves rustled outside the window, a few flower petals drifted into the hall, one landing on Yun Chuanzhi’s forehead. She plucked it off, gazing at its delicate, beautiful color between her fingertips, feeling as if she were in a dream.

Mount Everlasting was still a peaceful place, at least in the sense that only Bai Fenghuo wanted her dead.

Though that one was as dangerous as ten ordinary foes.

Surrounded by warmth and silence, her stomach full, drowsiness soon overtook her. Yun Chuanzhi curled up and drifted into a dream-filled slumber, her dreams as serene and beautiful as her surroundings.

When Yun Chuanzhi awoke to the sound of the door opening, the dappled sunlight had already crept up the wall.

Ling Shui stood at the entrance, her lips curling downward as she watched Yun Chuanzhi rise, yawning and looking utterly content. “You little slave,” she said coldly, “your audacity is truly remarkable. Do you think the Sect Leader’s chambers are some kind of inn?”

She glanced at Yun Chuanzhi’s dirty clothes and tossed her a bundle. “These are your spare clothes as the Sect Leader’s personal Immortal Servant. Go change immediately.”

Ling Shui then gathered Yun Chuanzhi’s half-eaten meal and led her out of the room.

The pair wound through the long, winding corridors outside the chambers, eventually stopping before a wooden door painted with two red carp. Ling Shui pushed it open. “This is your quarters. Mine are next door. If you need anything, ring the wind chimes by the door.”

“If you hear the wind chimes ring at any time, it means the Sect Leader summons you. You must come to her side immediately, without delay,” Ling Shui instructed.

“And what if I delay?” Yun Chuanzhi challenged, refusing to believe such strict rules.

Ling Shui gave her a look as if she were a fool. “You’re welcome to try. You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Go change now. You need to report for duty immediately after,” Ling Shui said, turning to leave. But Yun Chuanzhi grabbed the corner of her robe, causing Ling Shui to glare back, her expression dark.

“Um, Sister Ling Shui,” the girl said with a radiant smile, “I still have some questions I’d like to ask.”

The girl’s clothes were tattered and torn, the hem covered in gray burrs, and a few withered leaves clung to her shoulders. Yet her eyes burned with an extraordinary brightness, like sparks of starlight, shimmering and intense.

“What is it?” Ling Shui asked, averting her gaze.

“Come inside.” Yun Chuanzhi glanced left and right down the corridor before grabbing Ling Shui’s arm and pulling her into the room, slamming the door shut behind them.

Ling Shui bit her lip, wanting to lash out in anger, but remembering Bai Fenghuo’s words, she barely restrained herself. She yanked her pristine white sleeve from the girl’s grasp, shaking it three times. “What is it?”

As soon as Yun Chuanzhi had pulled Ling Shui inside, she picked up a teacup from the table and handed it to her, acting as if nothing were amiss. Smiling, she asked, “I’d like to know, as someone with a slave branding, how am I different from you?”

This question had plagued her since arriving in the Qianyuan Realm. In Avici City, strength was the only currency; the strong seized resources, and there was no distinction between Immortal Status and slave branding, no hierarchy of superior or inferior.

But since coming to Mount Everlasting, she had repeatedly been humiliated because of her “slave branding,” fueling her curiosity.

Ling Shui set down the teacup, her clear eyes fixed on Yun Chuanzhi, asking no further questions.

“The Qianyuan Realm places great importance on spiritual veins. Those born into cultivation clans are always more revered than ordinary people, and those with spiritual veins rank higher than those without.”

“Those branded with slave marks are despised by the cultivation world. Most lack spiritual veins, endure miserable lives, and are even treated as livestock. Even when sold to human traffickers, they fetch meager prices.”

So that’s why, Yun Chuanzhi nodded. No wonder everyone I’ve encountered since waking up has avoided me like the plague, their faces twisted with disgust. In the Qianyuan Realm, slavery is truly considered utterly contemptible.

Cui Ergou’s parents had sold her into slavery for a few copper coins, branding her with the slave mark and condemning her to such a wretched fate. The thought chilled her to the bone.

“Immortal Servants of Mount Everlasting must conceal their slave marks with Immortal Art when ascending the mountain. This rule was established by Sect Leader Mingcun during her lifetime, in an attempt to mitigate such injustice,” Ling Shui said, shaking her head. “But its effectiveness remains limited.”

She flicked her hand, sending a wisp of energy that brushed Yun Chuanzhi’s forehead, leaving a faint warmth.

“Look.” Ling Shui handed Yun Chuanzhi a bronze mirror. When Yun Chuanzhi took it and glanced at her reflection, she saw a crimson pattern now etched between her once-smooth eyebrows.

Before Yun Chuanzhi could discern the pattern, Ling Shui waved her hand, concealing the slave mark. Her expression returned to its usual cold indifference. “Alright, now that you know, come with me. If you delay your duties and incur the Sect Leader’s punishment, I’ll have to share the consequences.”

“Yes,” Yun Chuanzhi muttered.

Half an hour later, they stood once more in Bai Fenghuo’s bedroom. Sunlight, now dappled and golden, had climbed the rafters, casting a molten glow across the room.

“First, wipe the floor. The Sect Leader prefers to walk barefoot, so the floor must be spotless.”

“Why?” Yun Chuanzhi stared at the gleaming, oiled-looking floor. “Mount Everlasting is filled with cultivators. A mere wave of their hand could clean this. Why bother with manual labor?”

“Cultivators prioritize cultivation and wouldn’t concern themselves with such trivial matters. Most Immortal Servants lack sufficient spiritual energy and must clean by hand,” Ling Shui replied emotionlessly. “From now on, as the Sect Leader’s personal Immortal Servant, these will be your duties.”

Yun Chuanzhi suddenly regretted her decision.

Spring Encounter Pavilion had three stories, and Bai Fenghuo’s bedroom alone was several times larger than an ordinary house. She feared she could scrub from dawn till midnight and still not finish.

“Also, the Sect Leader drinks a cup of clear spring water from Muli Divine Peak every morning, steamed with the freshest Ice Lotus petals. For washing her face, she uses Rootless Water that has remained frozen atop Mount Everlasting’s main peak for a thousand years. She eats freshly steamed Poria and Osmanthus Cake. At midday, she requires a bowl of Iced Cream and a cup of Beauty and Nourishing Soup, along with a bottle of Camellia Moisturizing Oil sent from Celestial Emperor City…”

Ling Shui’s mouth opened and closed incessantly, her words flowing without end. Yun Chuanzhi couldn’t bear to listen any longer, standing frozen as a tempest raged in her heart.

Ha ha.

This wasn’t serving a Sect Leader; it was serving an ancestor.

Maybe I should just slit my throat.

Lost in thought, Yun Chuanzhi didn’t notice when Ling Shui finally finished. Her throat dry, she paused and asked sternly, “Have you memorized everything?”

“Mhm, mhm,” Yun Chuanzhi replied with a smile.

Ling Shui visibly relaxed, clearly relieved not to have to repeat herself. She handed Yun Chuanzhi a fragrant cloth. “Now get to work. Wipe the floor dry first. Be careful—the Sect Leader will punish you if she finds it undone.”

Yun Chuanzhi nodded repeatedly. As soon as Ling Shui left, she tossed the cloth aside and collapsed onto the floor.

I’ll never finish cleaning this place anyway. Might as well save my energy.

The sunlight streaming through the window gradually turned golden, transforming the massive pane into an unfurled scroll. Beyond the glass, a scene unfolded like a painting: a colossal crimson sun half-obscured by wispy clouds, and flocks of birds soaring in formation across the sky, resembling ink droplets scattered across paper.

Bai Fenghuo, though wicked, possessed impeccable taste. The carved window lattice truly resembled a scroll, its intricate layers of cloud patterns echoing the celestial motifs.

Yun Chuanzhi drifted back to sleep, her dreams filled with the name “Bai Fenghuo,” echoing incessantly in her ears, a cacophony of noise.

Then, her cheek felt as if it had plunged into an icy cavern. Yun Chuanzhi startled awake, realizing it wasn’t a dream. Someone was indeed calling out “Bai Fenghuo” right beside him.

Or perhaps it wasn’t even human. Yun Chuanzhi shook off her drowsiness and focused her gaze on the pitch-black iron puppet clinging to her chest.

How could a puppet exist on Mount Everlasting, a place that revered Immortal Arts above all else? Yun Chuanzhi pursed her lips, scrutinizing the mechanical figure from head to toe.

“You Immortal Servant! Hurry, go save Bai Fenghuo!” The puppet’s icy little hand gripped Yun Chuanzhi’s collarbone, its metal fingers digging into her flesh.

“She’s dying!”