After Transmigrating into a Book as Cannon Fodder, I Pampered the Villain - Chapter 22

Chapter 22: The Trap

Ever since Yu Yingxia fell ill, the usually quiet little courtyard had become bustling. Thanks to her good reputation, the yard was soon piled with gifts from various visitors.

Even Fang Yuetong, who was busy hunting for the “mole,” managed to drop by. She left behind a large stalk of Spirit Ginseng. Yan Huaixi examined it, sliced a thin sliver into some water, and then diluted it further before giving it to Yingxia. Spirit Ginseng was potent; for a mortal like Yingxia, too much would cause a violent overflow of spiritual energy.

The rest of the ginseng was added to Yan Huaixi’s own meals to nourish her constitution. Since causing Yan Huaixi’s wound to reopen, Yingxia had been overwhelmed with guilt and had become even more meticulous in her care.

“A-Sheng? A-Sheng, are you home?” Yang Xunzhou had been away on business and only just learned of Yingxia’s illness. She was the last of Yingxia’s friends to visit.

Yingxia immediately went to open the door.

Yan Huaixi sat by the window and let out a sharp “Tch.” Seeing Yingxia trot over to open the gate and call out “Sister Yang” was an eyesore.

Bang. She slammed the window shut. Out of sight, out of mind.

But the voices drifted through the wood anyway. Yan Huaixi stared into her teacup, dark thoughts swirling. I really want to lock her away.

“I heard you were sick! Let me see… you’ve lost weight! Did you see a doctor?” Yang Xunzhou fussed over her artist, shoving various tonics into her arms.

“I did. The doctor said it’s nothing serious.” Yingxia struggled to hold the boxes until Yang Xunzhou flicked her sleeve, using spiritual power to float the gifts over to the bedroom door.

“That’s good. A mortal’s body is too fragile; a bit of cold or heat and you fall ill. We must get your cultivation started soon.” Yang looks at her like she’s a porcelain doll. “If you have questions about cultivation, ask me anytime.”

“Thank you, Sister Yang.” Yingxia smiled. Though she had no formal master, her “teachers” were becoming more impressive by the day.

“Don’t thank me. By the way, how is the… other person in your house?” Yang Xunzhou had never met Yan Huaixi; every time she visited, she only smelled thick medicine and a faint scent of blood from the next room.

“Much better. She drank three bowls of sweet soup today and wanted a fourth, but I had to stop her so she could take her medicine,” Yingxia laughed helplessly.

“A good appetite is a good sign.” Yang smiled. “I forgot to ask—are you busy today? If you can spare the time, I’ll take you somewhere.”

Yingxia instinctively looked toward Yan Huaixi’s room. No signal of disapproval came. Silence means consent. “I’m free. Where are we going?”

“You’ll see when we get there.”

Yang Xunzhou led her to a carriage driven by a wooden golem, heading toward the south of the city. As they traveled, Yingxia noticed the streets were unusually crowded, with many more cultivators than commoners. Finally, they stopped at a building called Treasure Pavilion.

Yingxia knew of it; the owner was a cultivator, but they mostly sold mortal treasures.

“Why is it so crowded today?”

“There’s an auction held by the Tianqiu Sect,” Yang Xunzhou explained.

Yingxia’s curiosity turned to wariness. As someone who knew a bit about the world of immortals, she found this bizarre. Why would a top-tier sect like Tianqiu hold an auction in a mortal city? It felt suspicious.

Yang Xunzhou had considered this too. As a well-connected book dealer, she had only received word of this auction at the last minute. It wasn’t normal, but she was powerful enough not to fear the Tianqiu Sect. She wanted Yingxia to see the world and perhaps find a treasure—items “leaked” from a great sect were always high quality.

“Don’t worry, it won’t take long. You’ll be back in time to cook for your ‘Elder Miss Yu,'” Yang teased, misinterpreting Yingxia’s pale face as worry for her housemate.

The Pavilion was small, and the auction was intimate. The owner, Wu, was an old acquaintance of Yang’s. He ushered them into a private booth.

“Friend Yang! Long time no see. I’ve saved the best spot for you.”

“Thanks, Friend Wu. But give me the scoop—what’s the ‘good stuff’ that has Tianqiu acting so mysterious?” Yang whispered.

Owner Wu’s face clouded over. “Actually… there are no ‘treasures’ here. The real goods wouldn’t be at my place. But a word of advice: don’t touch the final item. Whatever you do, don’t bid on the finale.”

Before he could say more, a cold voice from a Tianqiu envoy cut him off. “Owner Wu, the auction is starting. What are you doing over there?”

Wu shut his mouth, gave a fawning smile, and hurried away.

“There’s definitely something fishy going on,” Yang muttered.

“Maybe we should… leave?” Yingxia suggested.

“Nonsense. Whatever Tianqiu is up to has nothing to do with us. Just watch. You’re new to the path; you need equipment. Unfortunately, I threw away my childhood artifacts long ago, or I’d give them to you.”

The auction began. Compared to the grand events Yingxia remembered from the original owner’s memories, this was lackluster. Yang Xunzhou bid on a few basic pills but was mostly unimpressed. “Cheapskates. They’re auctioning trash.”

Yingxia wasn’t looking at the items. She was watching the room. Heavy curtains blocked the daylight, making the hall dim and eerie. Only the stage was lit. In the shadows, she noticed silent figures surrounding the perimeter, waiting for a command.

“Next is our finale!” the auctioneer announced. “You’ve likely heard of the Yan Clan of the Soul Path, destroyed decades ago. They were the masters of soul cultivation, rumored to possess a secret treasure for immortality.”

“While we don’t have that treasure, we have something from the Yan Clan: The Ten Thousand Soul Bone!”

The auctioneer opened a wooden box. A crystalline glow spilled out. Inside was a piece of bone, translucent like jade. A wave of soul energy washed through the room, making everyone feel refreshed—as if their souls were being washed.

Except for one person.

Yang Xunzhou’s face went pale with disgust. “They dare auction such a wicked thing? Aren’t they afraid the Yan Clan’s ghosts will crawl out and strangle them?”

“A-Sheng, we’re leaving.” The “Soul Bone” was the condensed essence extracted from the corpses of the massacred Yan Clan. It was a vile object used by other cultivators to strengthen their own spirits.

But Yingxia’s reaction was even more violent. To others, the bone looked like jade; to her eyes, it was a black, rotting bone wreathed in demonic miasma. The sheer malice radiating from it made her gag.

Suddenly, dozens of black “tentacles” erupted from the bone, unseen by anyone else, and raced toward her like snakes!

They moved too fast. In the blink of an eye, they converged into a giant black serpent with bared fangs. It opened its maw to swallow her whole. Yang Xunzhou saw nothing, but the red jade butterfly pin in Yingxia’s hair began to glow.

The serpent’s fangs stopped inches from Yingxia’s head. Cold sweat poured down her face. She was paralyzed, her voice trapped in her throat.

The serpent dissolved into a cloud of black mist, wrapping around her. If Yingxia had a mirror, she would see she looked exactly like the original owner in her nightmare surrounded by a dark shadow.

Long time no see, Guardian Yu. You have done well. Our Lord has a reward for you.

A voice that made her soul shiver echoed in her mind.

Reward? What reward? A reward for losing my life?

Yingxia didn’t recognize the voice, yet it felt hauntingly familiar. Her heart hammered, her hands shook. Her intuition screamed: The original owner left me one hell of a “Big Surprise!”

Support After Transmigrating into a Book as Cannon Fodder, I Pampered the Villain