After Being Entangled By the Obsessive Heroine [Quick Wear] - Chapter 28.2

A moment ago she had truly believed she was going to die. The helpless terror had been unbearable.

Only now did she feel, deep in her bones, the full cost of her blindness. With sight stripped away, all other senses were heightened, pain included.

“Junior Sister… hold me a little longer.”

Her pale face still carried fear. Qin Rong’s heart twisted painfully, as though something had gripped it tight.

“Don’t be afraid. I’ll stay with you.”

At last Xian Ning’s grip loosened. She nestled obediently into Qin Rong’s arms, motionless.

But Qin Rong’s mind churned. With her cultivation, she could not break this curse. They would need their master but Xian Ning couldn’t be left alone.

So Qin Rong carried her back to her own courtyard.

It was small, much like Xian Ning’s, except for the abundance of flowers. Not truly flowers, but medicinal spirit herbs that had blossomed under rich spiritual energy.

Their fragrance, mingled with a hint of medicine, soothed Xian Ning further. Exhausted, she leaned against Qin Rong and drifted into sleep.

Qin Rong tried to lay her down on the bed, but each attempt only made Xian Ning cling tighter arms and legs locking around her, unwilling to let go.

Even asleep, she was restless. The curse stirred again, showing her flashes of memories that weren’t her own mountains of corpses, oceans of blood, demonic chanting drilling into her skull.

Pain surged once more, twisting her face into a mask of anguish.

Qin Rong quickly chewed spirit herbs and fed them to her, then used her own power to suppress the curse within her body. The effort left her drained, but when Xian Ning’s expression finally smoothed, Qin Rong allowed her eyes to close as well.

For a long time, Xian Ning struggled in her nightmares until two warm, calloused hands pulled her from the darkness. She looked up, but before she could see clearly, she slipped back into unconsciousness.

When birdsong broke the night, Xian Ning awoke. Still, everything was black. Her eyes had not healed.

Her body felt weak, her throat parched and painful. Even swallowing her own saliva was a trial.

She braced an arm to push herself up only to brush against something warm, soft, and unmistakably alive.

Skin.

Qin Rong?

They were lying in the same bed?

Her mind scrambled. She shifted away quickly, desperate to put some distance between them only to roll too far, nearly tumbling off the bed.

A steady hand caught her, pulling her back into a firm embrace.

Qin Rong let out a soft sound as she woke. Her eyes met Xian Ning’s wide, unfocused gaze, and inexplicably her mood lightened.

Though Xian Ning couldn’t see, she felt the weight of that gaze. She whispered, “Why am I…?”

The voice jolted Qin Rong back to herself. She hastily withdrew her arm, forcing calm into her expression.

“You don’t remember? In the water, you suddenly lost control. I had no choice but to bring you here.”

Why they had ended up in the same bed, she didn’t explain. Xian Ning chose not to ask, only offering thanks instead. Pointless words would only embarrass them both.

She fumbled toward the edge, but Qin Rong guided her and placed her shoes in her hands.

Lowering her head, Xian Ning murmured, “I’m sorry for troubling you so much.”

The words pierced Qin Rong’s heart. After a long silence, she asked, “Why did you save me?”

Xian Ning froze mid-motion, then answered simply, “The situation was dire. I didn’t have time to think.”

“You never considered you might die?”

“I did.”

Her honesty made Qin Rong’s chest tighten. She crouched there, forgetting to rise.

“Then why block the strike for me?”

“I already told you—it was life or death. You’re strong. Even if I was hurt, you could have carried me out. But if you’d fallen, neither of us would’ve survived.”

Qin Rong pressed her lips together. She said nothing.

The truth was, her power had been nearly spent too. If Senior Sister hadn’t arrived with help, both of them would be gone.

Seeing Qin Rong sink into silence, Xian Ning worried she was dwelling too much again. Reaching out, she accidentally brushed against her face.

She blinked. Why is she still crouched here?

Her fingertips traced smooth, soft skin. Since she’d touched her anyway, she went ahead and cupped her cheeks with both hands, kneading gently.

Smiling, she said, “Stop overthinking. What’s done is done. If you feel guilty, just treat me better in the future.”

Qin Rong tilted her head up. Her face, cheeks squished, lips pursed, looked strangely like a big, obedient puppy. Her gaze was clear, luminous.

She wasn’t the same person as before.

Not just in her actions, but her tone, her manner—everything about her had softened. The old sharpness was gone.

“You…”

Are you really still Xian Ning?

The words almost slipped out, but she caught herself in time.

Xian Ning tilted her head, puzzled. She squeezed Qin Rong’s cheeks again. “Me what? Why stop halfway?”

Qin Rong caught her hand, murmuring instead, “It’s nothing. Do you still feel unwell?”

“No. Nothing hurts anymore. Just weak.”

“Good. Later we have to go to the mountain square.”

“The square? For what?”

That place was only used when something serious happened. Had she missed something while unconscious?

“They’re punishing Jing Ji today.”

Xian Ning’s breath stilled. Qin Rong must have reported what he’d done. How would Elder Jiang sentence him?

“Will they send him to the Cliff of Contemplation?”

“No. He’ll be expelled from the sect.”

Before Xian Ning could ask why the punishment was so harsh, Qin Rong added, “Junior Sister Zhao is dead.”

Her heart sank. So Zhao Chan had died.

Zhao Chan, the outer disciple whose arm had been severed by the man-eating flower (carnivorous plant)—she had likely been the first victim. Qin Rong must have been blaming herself for not protecting her.

Xian Ning squeezed Qin Rong’s ear gently. “Don’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault. You did all you could.”

Qin Rong said nothing. She only set aside her hand and stood.

Xian Ning continued dressing, then suddenly chuckled. “I just realized, I touched your face with the same hand I used for my shoes. Haha…”

Her bright laugh was infectious. Even Qin Rong felt her mood lift.

“I’ll fetch you some water to wash,” Qin Rong said, ears tinged pink as she stepped out.

After washing and eating, Xian Ning regained some strength.

*******

At the square, several disciples approached, asking after her health, making her feel suffocated. Thankfully, the elders and Master soon arrived, silencing the chatter.

“Today we gather to address the crime of outer disciple Jing Ji. Ten days ago, during the training expedition, his cowardice led to the death of Junior Sister Zhao. According to sect rules, his cultivation will be stripped, and he is expelled from the Jade Purity Sect.”

Elder Jiang Hanjin’s voice was cold, without excess words.

“Let this be a warning. Never endanger others for your own gain.”

At first Jing Ji shouted his innocence, but soon his cries turned to a scream that made Xian Ning clutch the nearest hand.

“Don’t be afraid.” Fan Hua’s voice was soothing. “The Elder is abolishing his cultivation.”

Xian Ning nodded, sightless eyes turning toward her voice.

But then Fan Hua’s sleeve shifted, releasing her hand. Another hand took its place—Qin Rong’s.

“Junior Sister?” Xian Ning asked.

“It’s not over yet. I thought you might be scared again,” Qin Rong replied.

So she had reached for her in advance? But why not let Senior Sister hold her longer? Strange girl.

Qin Rong didn’t care what others thought. She simply didn’t want Fan Hua touching Xian Ning.

Another scream echoed. Xian Ning stiffened. Wait—the male lead is being abolished?

【Of course not. The plot has changed. Now that he’s ended up like this, your task just got harder.】

“…Huh?”

She recalled the original script: after the beast attack, Qin Rong had fainted, and it was Jing Ji who carried her back.

Thus, he transformed from a coward into her savior.

But since Qin Rong hadn’t been gravely injured, that opportunity vanished. Instead, Qin Rong had exposed his deeds, pinning him to a pillar of shame.

Did I just sabotage the male and female leads’ romance?

Yet something felt wrong. Even if he had rescued Qin Rong, it couldn’t erase Zhao Chan’s death.

The so-called male lead was selfish and deceitful, his heart was twisted.

What qualified him to be a “male lead”?

Resolute, Xian Ning decided: she wouldn’t pair them. She would help Qin Rong rise instead to become the true heroine of this world.

The thought lifted her spirits. She felt light, unburdened.

On the way back, Qin Rong held her hand quietly, while Fan Hua chatted beside her. The three together looked harmonious, yet Xian Ning sensed Qin Rong’s gloom.

Even if she was blind, her instincts were sharp.

At the edge of Qin Rong’s courtyard, Fan Hua said, “I’ll take her from here.” She reached to lead Xian Ning.

But Qin Rong stepped forward, blocking her hand. “She’s still weak. She needs the spring again.”

“…?”

When did I say that? Xian Ning almost protested, but Qin Rong asked quickly, “Isn’t that right, Junior Sister?”

It was the first time Xian Ning had heard her call her that. The awkwardness in her voice betrayed how unused she was to lying.

“Yes,” Xian Ning said smoothly. “I’ll stay here a few days. Thank you, Senior Sister.”

Fan Hua said nothing, watching their retreating figures. A sharp light flickered in her eyes.

Is it my imagination, or have the two of them grown closer?

Inside, Xian Ning sprawled into a rattan chair, grinning like a little lord as she “looked” toward Qin Rong.

Flustered, Qin Rong tried to leave, but Xian Ning caught her sleeve.

“Out with it. Why insist I stay?”

So Qin Rong explained about the curse.

“On me? A demonic curse even Master can’t undo?” Xian Ning’s mind went blank.

She had combed through the original owner’s memories many times. There had never been contact with demons.

Qin Rong’s expression was grim. “It’s ancient, complex. Even a small mistake could kill you. Master dared not attempt it.”

Xian Ning’s lips trembled. “Then… will I die?”

Her clear, watery eyes pierced Qin Rong’s heart like thorns.

“No. It won’t harm your body. It only… erases parts of your memory.”

“…Erases?”

Her blank, innocent look nearly broke Qin Rong’s composure.

“Do you remember how you got the God-Devouring Grass?”

Xian Ning froze. She had wondered that herself—the thing had appeared out of nowhere, and the original owner hadn’t even questioned it.

Perhaps someone had told her then wiped her memory.

Seeing her confusion, Qin Rong’s mood soured.

She could blame the curse for Xian Ning’s betrayal, but it didn’t erase her intent. Xian Ning had still tried to kill her, curse or not.

The warmth of earlier vanished. Qin Rong’s eyes became cold.

“This curse has bound you for three, four years. It must be reinforced every few days, or else it unravels. When it weakens, any contact with spiritual energy will backfire—like with the spring.”

So it wasn’t the spring at fault, but the curse loosening.

Silence fell, heavy and suffocating.

Only one possibility remained.

“For a demon to infiltrate the sect…”

“They would have to join Jade Purity Sect in disguise and be close to you,” Qin Rong finished.

That narrowed it sharply. Xian Ning didn’t want to suspect her, but she was the only one who fit.

She chewed her lip with her mind in turmoil.

Watching her frown, Qin Rong asked, “Why not doubt me instead? You’re closer to Senior Sister Fan Hua.”

Xian Ning sighed helplessly. “It’s not about closeness. I just… trust you more.”

Qin Rong’s hand clenched. Without a word, she turned to leave.

Startled, Xian Ning lurched to grab her—only to trip over the table and fall. Qin Rong caught her. They both went tumbling to the floor.

Thanks to Qin Rong’s body cushioning her, Xian Ning was unhurt. She blinked up at her. “Where are you going?”

Those pitiful eyes undid Qin Rong. She averted her gaze.

“To pick some spirit herbs. The last dose is wearing off.”

Xian Ning relaxed, then murmured softly, “I thought you were angry. That you would leave me.”

Her warm breath against Qin Rong’s neck made her chest tighten.

Her ears flushed. Her voice stiffened. “I’m not angry. Don’t… imagine things.”

Xian Ning hummed, still nestled against her. Qin Rong was younger by a year, her body carrying the fresh, snow-like fragrance unique to her.

“Junior Sister…”

“What is it?”

Grinning, Xian Ning asked, “Isn’t the floor cold?”

Qin Rong’s heartbeat stuttered. She forced a steady tone. “Not very.”

“That’s good.” Xian Ning lay back down again, nestling her face into the hollow of Qin Rong’s neck. “Let me stay like this a little longer.”

Qin Rong had no reason to refuse. Even if she did, she didn’t want to.

Time trickled by, her junior sister’s breathing gradually evening out, while Qin Rong’s thoughts churned in restless disarray. Her mind slipped back to that night when she had brought Xian Ning back from the cliff of reflection.

Back then, in her delirium, Xian Ning had kissed her. Did she still remember it?

At the time, Qin Rong had been furious enough to want her dead. Yet now, recalling that moment, she felt something entirely different.

Her lips then had been cold, almost icy, nothing like the softness a kiss should carry. If she touched them now… would they feel different?

The thought jolted Qin Rong, frightening her with its boldness. She floundered, not knowing what to do with herself.

“Xian Ning, it’s time to get up.”

Her eyes were rimmed red, and her ears and cheeks burned just the same.

But Xian Ning gave no reply. Qin Rong lowered her gaze—only to find the girl in her arms fast asleep.

Her lashes, long and feathery, cast delicate shadows. Her nose was fine and straight, her lips faintly parted and flushed with color, her skin glowing with a luster that made her seem less like a mortal being than a piece of flawless jade carved into human form.

Qin Rong’s heart leapt again, beyond her ability to restrain. She lifted one arm to shield her eyes, while the other wrapped more tightly around the sleeping girl in her embrace.

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