The Villainess Always Tries to Seduce Me - Chapter 8

As she had predicted, the moment she feigned a move, the woman before her snapped her eyes open. Simultaneously, a palm strike hurtled toward her. Fortunately, Yun Chuanzhi had anticipated this and ducked, shielding her head.

“Audacious!” The woman’s face paled as she pushed herself upright, clearly enraged. Having missed with her first strike, she immediately swung her other palm.

Yun Chuanzhi seized the opportunity, grabbing all five of her fingers with both hands, and adopted an expression of tearful joy.

“Sect Leader, you’re finally awake! This lowly servant was so worried!”

Worried like a lion’s mane? Bai Fenghuo sneered inwardly. Weren’t you having fun just now? She yanked her hand free with force.

Then, she conjured a handkerchief and meticulously wiped every spot Yun Chuanzhi had touched, only then did her expression soften slightly.

“Help me up,” she said softly, her voice betraying an unmasked weariness.

Yun Chuanzhi reached out to assist her, but Bai Fenghuo raised her hand to stop him, shaking her sleeve to cover her skin before haughtily offering her arm.

Am I that filthy? What a demanding ancestor, Yun Chuanzhi thought, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes.

Bai Fenghuo had tested her several times now. Though the reason remained unclear, it was evident she harbored suspicions, which was why she hadn’t taken Yun Chuanzhi’s life.

One must know when to stop. Having already angered Bai Fenghuo, Yun Chuanzhi dared not push further.

He obediently extended her hands, watching as Bai Fenghuo grasped her wrist through the sleeve. Then, with a soft sway of her waist, she stood up weakly, her movements frail and unsteady.

His palm remained ice-cold, and her complexion hadn’t improved, appearing almost translucent. Strands of disheveled hair drifted like mist in the breeze, and her steps faltered.

Was Bai Fenghuo truly ill? Or was this merely an act?

Doubt gnawed at Yun Chuanzhi, but she dared not voice her suspicions. Instead, she asked, “Sect Leader, shall we return to the sect now?”

“Can you carry this venerable one on your back?” Bai Fenghuo glanced up coldly.

Yun Chuanzhi sized up Bai Fenghuo’s figure—tall and slender, with only her pallor betraying her illness—then glanced down at herself. “No,” she admitted honestly.

“Then why ask such a pointless question?” Bai Fenghuo retorted, withdrawing her gaze with a disdainful snort.

Another scolding. This woman’s tongue was sharper than her heart. Yun Chuanzhi took a deep breath, suppressing the turmoil within, and forced a smile.

“Or shall this humble servant return to the sect and summon help?” she offered.

“And risk word spreading, inviting them to storm the mountain and carve me into a thousand pieces?” Bai Fenghuo staggered to a nearby rock, gathered her robes, and sat down, closing her eyes to rest.

Yun Chuanzhi was puzzled. “In a sect, the Sect Leader is revered above all. Doesn’t the Sect Leader have any trusted confidantes?”

“None,” Bai Fenghuo replied swiftly, her voice softening slightly, a hint of amusement in her tone. “This venerable one trusts no one.”

Such was the way of those who had committed countless atrocities. Yun Chuanzhi understood; in her past life, she had killed many and harbored the same mindset.

Yet, when that person was still alive, she had someone she could trust. But after that person died, she was left utterly alone in the world.

For some inexplicable reason, Yun Chuanzhi felt a flicker of empathy for Bai Fenghuo’s solitary figure.

“Why are you staring at this venerable one?” Bai Fenghuo asked, her eyes still closed. “Do you dare pity me?”

Then, her crimson lips parted slightly. “You’re not worthy.”

Forget it. There’s no point trying to talk to someone like him, Yun Chuanzhi thought, turning away to gaze at the pitch-black cliffs outside the cave. The moon had vanished, and the cliffs loomed like monstrous giants, their dark silhouettes casting an oppressive aura.

The valley was silent, yet the roar of the river seemed even more ferocious, its waters crashing violently against every obstacle with a thunderous roar.

While Bai Fenghuo rested, Yun Chuanzhi slipped out of the cave to gather firewood. She piled it near the cave entrance, in a well-ventilated spot, and ignited it with a self-made fire starter. Soon, a crackling bonfire blazed to life, illuminating the spacious cavern.

Bai Fenghuo remained motionless beside her, likely channeling spiritual energy to heal in secret. Yun Chuanzhi, bored, tended the fire, occasionally glancing at him.

A faint purple aura enveloped Bai Fenghuo. Yun Chuanzhi could sense a steady stream of spiritual energy flowing from every crevice in the valley, converging into her body like trickling streams.

As the spiritual energy passed near Yun Chuanzhi, she secretly siphoned off small amounts. Her body hadn’t yet awakened its spiritual roots, preventing her from cultivating, but the fragments of the Soul Transference Stone hidden in her sleeve could.

Following Bai Fenghuo had its advantages. Ordinary people rarely encountered such abundant spiritual energy. Yun Chuanzhi smiled faintly, stroking the stones in her sleeve. They trembled faintly, rolling together to form a miniature human figure.

Time passed unnoticed. A corner of the sky above gradually brightened, revealing scattered stars. Yun Chuanzhi’s head kept nodding off, her consciousness drifting in and out of awareness.

Perhaps as the night deepened, the surroundings grew increasingly frigid. Chilling gusts of wind swept through, sending shivers down her spine.

Something’s wrong, she thought. The bonfire was burning brightly before her—why was she cold?

Her mind cleared instantly, as if washed clean. Though her eyes remained half-closed, feigning drowsiness, she knew someone was approaching.

Someone’s here, she thought. A foreign presence, utterly unlike Bai Fenghuo’s, mingled with the fishy stench in the air, making her stomach churn.

Though she lacked spiritual energy, Yun Chuanzhi’s senses remained sharp. From a distance, she heard the sound of bowstrings slicing through the air, followed by the rush of several sharp objects piercing the darkness, their damp tips aimed at Bai Fenghuo.

How dare they be so bold? Yun Chuanzhi initially remained still, reasoning that she wasn’t the target.

But as the wind-borne projectiles drew closer, Bai Fenghuo remained seated with her eyes closed. Yun Chuanzhi’s heart clenched. She opened her eyes, using the firelight to see beads of sweat rolling down Bai Fenghuo’s forehead and neck.

No way… is she really this sick? She can’t even defend herself?

If Bai Fenghuo died, what would become of her? Yun Chuanzhi remained motionless, her mind racing to weigh the pros and cons. Leaving aside the potential trouble from Mount Everlasting, the midnight attackers would certainly leave no witnesses alive.

With that thought, Yun Chuanzhi flicked her sleeve and rose. The stone figurine hidden within her sleeve shot forward, positioning itself before Bai Fenghuo. A shield of ethereal blue light, formed from the spirit stone, materialized instantly. The colorless wind arrows struck the shield, unleashing a violent shockwave that shattered the air.

Bai Fenghuo’s hair whipped wildly into the air before slowly settling back down, momentarily obscuring her illuminated brows and eyes.

His eyelashes twitched almost imperceptibly.

The sound of wind being sliced through intensified as Yun Chuanzhi reached Bai Fenghuo. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed her waist and forcefully yanked her off the massive boulder. At the same moment, the boulder Bai Fenghuo had been sitting on exploded with a deafening roar. Forced to roll across the ground with him, Yun Chuanzhi ended up pinning her beneath her.

The unconscious Bai Fenghuo’s face twisted in pain, beads of sweat rolling into her hair. Her previously pale complexion flushed crimson, vibrant as the dawn sky.

“Sorry about that,” Yun Chuanzhi muttered, clasping her hands in a quick prayer. Pulling her down had already been a struggle; she had no energy to worry about her pain.

Sharp stones in the dust scratched their skin, leaving a shallow cut on Bai Fenghuo’s face that oozed a thin trail of crimson bl00d.

Yun Chuanzhi’s eyes lit up at the sight, devoid of any tenderness. She smeared some of the bl00d on her cheek and hastily dabbed it onto the ground.

“Your Cultivator bl00d should work better than mine,” she muttered, satisfied. Then, with a low incantation, the tiny stone figure floating before them suddenly expanded, its head nearly piercing the cliff ceiling.

The stone golem’s timely growth proved crucial, as their hidden assailant materialized before them, brandishing a curved blade as long as a man. With a vicious swing, the blade sliced through the air, kicking up dust and gravel, only to be intercepted by the golem’s massive arm.

Yun Chuanzhi curled up behind Bai Fenghuo, shielding herself from the razor-sharp gusts of wind.

Through the swirling dust, she glimpsed the attacker’s form: clad in bronze armor, her face completely obscured by a helmet. Though her features remained hidden, the man’s imposing aura suggested formidable cultivation.

“Bai Fenghuo, wake up!” Yun Chuanzhi gripped the woman’s shoulders and shook her violently, but she remained limp as a noodle, her body collapsing into her arms the moment she released her.

Without the support of its master’s spiritual energy, the stone golem couldn’t endure for long. After just two strikes, both its arms were severed, and it collapsed to its knees with a mournful groan, its massive body shielding Yun Chuanzhi completely.

Yet in the next instant, the black curved blade pierced through the golem’s chest as if it were flesh and bone. With a violent twist, the golem exploded into countless stone fragments. As Yun Chuanzhi squeezed her eyes shut, she felt as if she were being constricted by a giant serpent, an invisible force dragging her into the air.

Debris and dust from the shaking stone wall rained down, covering her face and body. She struggled to open her eyes, only to see a black blade swinging towards her head, mere inches away.

It’s over, Yun Chuanzhi thought. I’m going to die after all.

She gave up struggling, turned her head, and closed her eyes, hoping for a swift death.

But it didn’t come. At that moment, a brilliant purple light flooded the cave, surging out into the valley and turning the entire sky white.

The restraints binding Yun Chuanzhi loosened. Long, flowing sleeves wrapped around her waist, snatching her from the armored figure’s grasp. The black scimitar silently dissolved into ash, as if it had always been destined to become dust.

“Bai…”

“Shut up, you’re too noisy,” Bai Fenghuo’s voice snapped from behind her, sounding fierce yet strangely reassuring.

Yun Chuanzhi was dragged behind the woman, her tattered clothes and exposed skin constantly whipped by the raging wind.

The wound on Bai Fenghuo’s face remained, but the crimson scar didn’t mar her beauty. Instead, it added a touch of sinister allure. She raised her hand slightly, her cold, indifferent gaze sweeping over everything.

“Seeking death,” she said. Before the words had even left her lips, the armored figure instantly dissolved into a cloud of bl00d mist.

Just like a frail, buzzing mosquito.

Dead in an instant, without even a scream.

The wind stilled, the dust settled, and Bai Fenghuo withdrew her hand. Yun Chuanzhi’s feet finally touched the ground, stumbling backward several steps until she leaned against the stone wall.

Perhaps because Bai Fenghuo always put on an act when facing him, Yun Chuanzhi had never truly grasped the Scumbag Sect Leader’s true power.

But now she knew. Truly, terrifying beyond measure.

“Why didn’t you run?” Bai Fenghuo asked, then slowly turned around. Her slender, pale fingers, covered in tiny cuts, slid from Yun Chuanzhi’s chest up to her throat, pinning her against the wall. She lightly squeezed Yun Chuanzhi’s throat, as if playing with a toy.

Bai Fenghuo’s overwhelming scent crashed into Yun Chuanzhi’s nostrils, impossible to resist.

“Aren’t you afraid of me?” she murmured, her eyes gleaming like a demon’s.