After Transmigrating into a Book as Cannon Fodder, I Pampered the Villain - Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Peeking

“Excellent, truly excellent! I knew I didn’t misjudge you!” Yang Xunzhou held Yu Yingxia’s initial drafts, repeating her praise several times.

Ever since she heard Yingxia had started working, Yang Xunzhou had been waiting. The moment the little wooden golem brought word that Yingxia invited her over, she used a high-level spatial movement spell to appear instantly in the Yu family courtyard.

She was so overjoyed she didn’t notice the figure by the window in the other room snuffing out a spell in her hand.

“Tch…”

Yan Huaixi stood by her window, watching the “Scribe Sage” rush into Yingxia’s room. Having survived countless assassinations, her first instinct upon sensing a strange power in the courtyard was to release a killing blow; she had barely restrained herself.

“Sister Yang, you’re here so fast! Please, come in,” Yingxia’s cheerful voice drifted from the next room. Yan Huaixi didn’t need to look to know that Yingxia must be leading the woman in by the arm.

They’ve only known each other for a few days, and she trusts her this much? Doesn’t she fear being sold off by that cunning fox?

Yan Huaixi glanced at her right hand, a strange, inexplicable thought crossing her mind: I should have let that spell fly. A bowl of sweet soup sat half-finished beside her—her favorite but she suddenly had no appetite.

Yingxia called her “My Lord” with such outward respect, yet she kept secrets with a stranger and hid them from her. For days, Yingxia had been cooped up in that study. Did she really think a mere door could keep Yan Huaixi out? Naive. There were no secrets from her if she chose to know.

A cheer erupted from the study next door. Yan Huaixi snorted. She wasn’t particularly interested in the Scribe Sage’s past, only knowing she had disappeared from the public eye after offending someone powerful. Maybe I should find out who she offended. I might have a grand gift for them.

Inside the study, Yang Xunzhou was admiring the drafts. She adored Yingxia’s style. She had collaborated with other artists before, but their styles were either too vulgar or too “high-brow”—none fit the vibe of her stories. But Yingxia… only Yingxia truly understood her vision!

Setting the drafts down, Yang Xunzhou noticed Yingxia looked pale and exhausted. “Aren’t you resting well? The art can wait; your health is more important.” Yang Xunzhou was wealthy enough not to rely on book sales; this was just a hobby. She wouldn’t want to burn out her perfect artist.

“It’s fine. I sleep plenty, but I’ve been having nightmares lately,” Yingxia said, rubbing her temples.

Lately, she dreamt of corpses. Most nights involved being hunted through the darkness, screaming for help that never came. Waking up in a cold sweat every night left her drained.

Yang Xunzhou’s expression darkened. She’d heard about the corpse attack in the market. “I don’t know what the Tianqiu Sect is playing at, failing to react for so long. Fine. If we can’t count on them, we’ll count on ourselves.”

She continued, “I’ll bring over some Spirit-Soothing Incense. Light it before bed, and I guarantee you’ll sleep through the night.”

“Thank you, Sister Yang.”

“Don’t mention it. You called me ‘Sister,’ so I must look after my ‘Little Sister.'” Yang Xunzhou patted her head with a grin. “I’ll go grab it now. You should light some for a nap this afternoon to regain your strength.”

Before leaving, Yang Xunzhou circled back to her earlier spark of inspiration. “A-Sheng, I still think a story about the Sect Leader of the Changsheng Sect and her Left Guardian would be a massive hit.”

“And since they’re ‘villains,’ we can write them much more… freely than righteous characters. I heard the Sect Leader of the Changsheng Sect is—”

“Mmph!” Yingxia lunged forward, covering Yang Xunzhou’s mouth with a look of pure terror.

Eat whatever you want, but don’t say whatever you want! The Living Yama is right next door!

“I… I don’t think those two have much story potential. Why don’t you think of something else? Like… the first and second-generation Sect Leaders?”

“Hmm…” Yang Xunzhou actually considered the proposal but shuddered. “Too creepy. No.”

Once the guest was gone, Yingxia realized her back was soaked in cold sweat. She peeked toward Yan Huaixi’s room. Silence. She probably didn’t hear us, or she would have summoned me by now.

Exhausted but wired from the scare, Yingxia decided to finish one more sketch before napping. She didn’t notice the shadow by her window.

Yan Huaixi had heard Yang Xunzhou’s words. She didn’t understand the “riddle” they were speaking in, but it involved her. A story about her and Yingxia? Why was Yingxia’s reaction so extreme?

The answer lay in the study.

From the rafters, a drop of blood seeped out, coalescing into a butterfly. The Blood Butterfly landed soundlessly on the window frame.

Yingxia sat at her desk, picking up her brush. But Yang Xunzhou’s words were echoing in her head: “Write them much more freely…” Yingxia had read all of Yang’s works. If those were “restrained,” what on earth would a “free” version of her and the villain look like?

Fragments of plots from the romance novels she’d read flashed through her mind. Her face turned bright red. Her hand shook. Because her mind was currently occupied by Yan Huaixi’s image, the silhouette she drew instinctively morphed into the villain’s likeness.

On the paper, two women were entwined on a bed, their clothes half-slid off in an intimate embrace. The atmosphere was thick with ambiguity. One face was blank, but the other—with those sharp features and signature red robes—was undeniably Yan Huaixi.

The moment Yingxia realized what she was doing, she frantically moved to destroy the evidence.

But on the windowsill, the Blood Butterfly’s wings were shaking violently, as if it were about to spray blood.

Next door, a certain someone nearly crushed the bowl in her hand.

As I suspected! She DOES have improper thoughts about me!

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