After Transmigrating into a Book, I Became Partners with My Mortal Enemy - Chapter 16

“Do you need something? Because if you don’t, I definitely do!”

Despite the wind-and-rain-shielding spell Ji Ting had cast, Ding Xiandi was still a drenched, unlucky mess. Ji Ting didn’t bother answering; they arrived at the residential apartments in no time.

A crowd had gathered outside to witness the anomalous weather. The dormitory supervisor and the master on duty had already rushed over, having identified which Heaven-grade apartment was the source of the chaos. Ji Ting stepped in front of the supervisor, bowing respectfully to the master in white. “No need to trouble yourselves. My junior sister suffers from a congenital deficiency; she requires our sect’s specific techniques to stabilize her.”

Ji Ting, wearing the same blue-and-white sword robes as Ding Xiandi, now possessed a steady, composed aura—a far cry from the woman who, moments ago, looked like she might wring Ding Xiandi’s wrist off.

Above the lobby, the academy’s translucent rune array was visible. One could see the lightning threatening to crack through the barrier. Disciples from other apartments poured out to investigate. Members of the Heaven-Refining Sect had apparently already received orders; regardless of their department—Sword, Law, Alchemy, or Music—they were performing synchronized hand seals to patch the cracks in the array.

Ding Xiandi had never seen such a grand display. She watched the various colors of spiritual energy in awe, instinctively trying to mimic the hand gestures. But she couldn’t even snap her fingers, let alone manifest energy. She remained the most pathetic-looking person in the crowd.

The master managing the apartments, Master Shen, was a friendly-looking woman Ding Xiandi often ran into at the dining hall. Master Shen had a passion for scallion rolls; she had once spent ages debating with Mei Chi over the last one, arguing from “respecting teachers” to “protecting the young,” until they finally settled on splitting it in half. Ding Xiandi, curious about what made a roll so special, had tried a piece of Mei Chi’s. It had tasted, inexplicably, like cinnamon.

“Your junior sister?” Master Shen, who was the biological sister of a Heaven-Refining Sect elder, had seen You Fuling as a child. Knowing her constitution, she wasn’t surprised. “Then let your sect handle it.”

She seemed to know something more, warning Ji Ting via voice transmission: “If even the Academy’s spirit veins can’t suppress this, I suggest your sect prepares for the worst.”

Someone born into the Golden Core stage was more like a glitch in the Heavenly Dao; it was a miracle she had lived this long. On the surface, Master Shen simply waved them off and left with the supervisor, not forgetting to tell the Heaven-Refining Sect to pay the fine for damaging public property.

Ding Xiandi sneezed just as she heard the “fifty thousand spirit stones” figure. Before she could comment on the blatant highway robbery, a grim-faced Ji Ting grabbed her and pulled her forward. This Eldest Senior Sister, usually quite easy to tease, was now exuding a palpable pressure.

Ding Xiandi looked back at the Heaven-Refining disciples. Each was focused, their spiritual power flowing into the crack. It looked like the repairs would take hours.

She’s really something, Ding Xiandi thought. Is the Soul Transformation stage really this powerful?

“Senior Sister Ji—”

Before Ding Xiandi could finish, Ji Ting slapped a talisman onto her forehead. There was a dull thud; Ding Xiandi’s body was instantly dry, and her hair returned to its original state.

They stood before You Fuling’s apartment. The rumble of thunder was still audible overhead. Other Heaven-grade disciples were peering out, confused.

“I don’t know what you said to my sister,” Ji Ting said, taking a deep breath. A wooden plaque with the Heaven-Refining Sect logo—a sun carved into bamboo—hung on You Fuling’s door. Ji Ting had used a cleansing talisman on Ding Xiandi but ignored her own wet bangs. “Since you’re a member of the Star Point Sect, you should be well aware of the alliance between our three sects.”

Heaven-grade apartments had restrictions. Last time, You Fuling had violently dismantled her own door; after it was repaired, she had hung some elegant bead curtains, but Ding Xiandi still felt like she might be crushed to death at any moment.

A violent maniac with a heart condition—one tantrum and she might drop dead. Quite the genius, Ding Xiandi mused.

She didn’t ask questions, letting Ji Ting lecture her. The gist was that Ji Ting was certain You Fuling’s state was linked to her, so Ding Xiandi had to fix it while Ji Ting handled the lightning outside. Had it not been for the interrogation on the Tianji Command, Ding Xiandi might have claimed innocence.

She nodded. “I can’t get in.”

Ji Ting had expected a promise or a plan; she didn’t expect a four-word statement of fact. If You Fuling weren’t so inexplicably obsessed with her, and if Ding Xiandi weren’t a registered Star Point disciple protected by the alliance, Ji Ting might have killed her right there.

The stone doors of Heaven-grade apartments were insulated; You Fuling’s overflowing energy was all surging upward. Being born as a Golden Core was a defiance of nature; even in a declining era of cultivation, she was an anomaly. Ji Ting knew this well.

The sect elders had argued endlessly over You Fuling’s existence. If not for their Master, the Sect Leader, fighting for her, You Fuling likely would have been used as a “vessel” and discarded long ago. There was no such thing as a free genius; everything heaven gave came with a price. Ji Ting, who had watched her grow up, wished she were just a normal disciple. In a world where no one ascended, living a quiet life was luck enough.

Even so, You Fuling’s lifespan was limited. Unless her innate spirit body was stabilized, her physical shell would eventually fail under the strain of her spiritual energy. Sending her to the Academy was the first step; Ji Ting hadn’t heard the second step from her Master yet. The Master only said “wait for the right time.”

Before the time arrived, her sister had been bewitched by a plain-faced failure from the Star Point Sect. Today’s energy riot was definitely this person’s fault. Even if “severing emotions” wasn’t trendy anymore, Ji Ting hated that a piece of trash like Ding Xiandi was tainting her sister.

If you need romance, can’t you pick someone else? Of all the talented disciples, you chose a pockmarked girl. What a waste.

“Sister, glaring at me won’t help,” Ding Xiandi said.

At the same age, You Fuling’s face always wore a single expression. Ding Xiandi was much better than the original owner’s gloomy, disheveled state, but she was still far below Ji Ting’s standards for a Dao companion. The more she looked at Ding Xiandi, the more disgusted she felt. She shoved several talismans into the girl’s arms. “Her Tianji Command is definitely shattered. We can’t reach her, so we have to use traditional talismans.”

“She has medicine inside. Make sure she takes it. She won’t be attending classes for the next few days.”

Ji Ting’s own device was flashing incessantly. She was the manager for the Heaven-Refining Sect this term, and her duties were heavy. The sect would demand an explanation for You Fuling’s outburst. She couldn’t stay; she left in a hurry.

Ding Xiandi, having been chewed out, looked at the talismans. Having crammed the original owner’s lessons, she recognized them as basic communication talismans. It was lucky she didn’t have to draw them herself, but using them still required spiritual energy.

Ji Ting had arrived with an intimidating aura; now that she was gone, the curious onlookers poked their heads back out. Ding Xiandi’s status as a “failure” was well-known. A disciple who had shared a class with her told others: “She can’t do it. Her spiritual energy is like a tiny candle flame. She can hold a spell for two breaths, tops.”

Ding Xiandi ignored them. They weren’t wrong; two breaths was her limit. Ji Ting, knowing this, had given her extra.

After exhausting three talismans, Ding Xiandi managed to take control of the energy just as the golden light spread. The yellow paper burned in the air as she called You Fuling’s name. Over and over.

Beyond the door, a gale was howling. Top-tier talisman papers were flying everywhere; some fell into the water, while others were incinerated by the raw energy before the ink could even dry.

Voices tangled in You Fuling’s mind—some strange, some familiar. Her hollow eyes leaked tears that were instantly evaporated by her spiritual power.

“If my son didn’t like her, would I let him marry this woman? I only agreed because she said she’s pregnant!” “Your name is unlucky; my mom told me not to play with you.” “A-Shan, Dad wants you to surpass the Ding family’s daughter.” “Your daughter and the Ding girl were born in the same hospital. You and my son are both healthy, so why was she born like this?” “Either you have another one, or who are we supposed to leave the estate to?” “That’s Ding Xiandi. She’s so beautiful.” “My friend confessed to her. Do you know why she rejected him? She said he has to be better than her first.” “Better at what? There’s always someone better.” “Wait, isn’t that sickly girl from the You family top of the class?” “Their families are rivals. My mom said they fell out over a project; they’ll never make up. Besides, isn’t You Fuling sick?” “I wonder who Ding Xiandi will get engaged to. I heard her parents are already looking.” “A man or a woman? Who could possibly be good enough for her?” “Are there even any women?” “Anyway, it won’t be You Fuling.”

“You Fuling.” “A-Shan.”

Amidst the chaos, a specific voice emerged, clear and somewhat lazy.

“The one who’s going to smash your dad’s coffin.” “Don’t play dead.”

The tenderness only lasted a second before the voice turned irritable.

“Open the door!”

You Fuling snapped back to reality. The floating objects crashed to the ground. Outside the door, Ding Xiandi heard the noise. Surely not, she thought. Someone who could stab their own brother wouldn’t just commit suicide. Villains live forever.

The last talisman was about to burn out. The onlookers were shocked that her meager energy had lasted this long. Just as she was about to call out again, the door opened.

Before she could feel relieved, a brutal wave of spiritual energy dragged her inside. The disciples outside only saw the hem of her robe get caught in the rapidly closing stone door. With a loud rip, it wasn’t quite a formal “severing of robes,” but it was certainly a violent tearing of clothes.

Ding Xiandi collapsed on the floor, looking mournfully at her unfixable robe. Great, now I have to buy more fabric. She looked around the room, feeling lucky her legs hadn’t been crushed.

The place was a wreck. The three-pace-long stone bridge was covered in cracks. The decorative lotuses in the pond had withered, and dead talisman papers floated on the surface. Fragments of books and stationery were scattered among the ashes. Tables and chairs were overturned, and shards of a teacup lay right before her eyes.

Her “friend” in the yellow-and-white robe was slumped over a table, looking as if she were dead. As Ding Xiandi crossed the bridge, it collapsed. When she tried to help You Fuling up, the table crumbled into dust.

A book of talismans lay open on the floor. She scanned it, her eyes grazing over several half-finished cursed seals. Holding You Fuling, she asked, “What’s the deal? I’m the one who’s supposed to fall into a demonic trance, not you, right?”

The other girl was burning hot. Visible spiritual energy was leaking from her as if she had been doused in gas and lit.

The original owner was dirt poor. Every cent she saved went to buying stationery for her love letters to Ming Jing. Ding Xiandi had been a wealthy heiress; she had the best of everything and never had to wear a patch. Going from spending money like water to having to sew her own clothes was a shock that only transmigration could provide.

The patches on Ding Xiandi’s robe brushed against You Fuling’s fine fabric. The contrast wasn’t just sharp; it was tragic. She was about to make a sarcastic remark when the person in her arms suddenly reached out and grabbed her waist.

This “sickly” genius, whose cultivation could kill most people, was surprisingly strong. Ding Xiandi stumbled back, nearly falling onto the soft bed.

“Are you conscious right now? Can you tell me what’s happening?” she asked.

The thunder seemed to have stopped, but it was dark now. Ding Xiandi looked around and saw the shards of a shattered Tianji Command. “You’re really something, You Fuling. Such strength. I—”

“What did you call me?”

The two girls, of equal height, were locked in an embrace. You Fuling’s face was buried in Ding Xiandi’s neck. Since transmigrating, Ding Xiandi had to do everything herself, including washing clothes. The former heiress didn’t complain, unaware that someone had been circulating images of her back while she did laundry. You Fuling had watched those images over and over, her heart aching with bitterness.

Some fellow disciples didn’t understand. Why didn’t her junior sister, whose cultivation was higher, just use a spell or a talisman to help her? The sword cultivator in Ding Xiandi’s apartment replied: “She said we have to save money. And a senior sister shouldn’t rely on a junior sister for chores.”

Mei Chi again.

She had even heard Ding Xiandi call Mei Chi “sister”—not “junior sister,” but a nickname that sounded incredibly intimate, spoken with a rising lilt. Accompanied by a pat on the head, the atmosphere between those two was something the disciples of major sects couldn’t replicate.

“What?” Ding Xiandi asked.

“Didn’t you call me A-Shan?”

Ding Xiandi wasn’t used to speaking to people this closely. But given You Fuling’s state, she couldn’t push her away. Her hands, finding nowhere to go, clutched her own robe, stroking the odd-shaped patches—the proof of her month of learning.

“That’s a bit embarrassing. We aren’t that close. A nickname here and there is enough.”

She was always like this—intimate yet distant, easy to draw in but impossible to touch. Ding Xiandi had no idea how hard the person in second place had to work to stay close to the first. You Fuling felt a surge of resentment, her jealousy and longing no less intense than her leaking spiritual energy.

Ding Xiandi remembered Ji Ting’s instructions. “Your sister told you to take your medicine. Seriously, what is wrong with—”

You Fuling’s body was born as a Golden Core; her cultivation speed was far beyond normal. Coming to the Academy was meant to suppress her power. The spirit veins here helped calm her, but they couldn’t mask the pain that grew within her flesh with every passing year.

She wanted candy. The candy that was right in front of her.

Ding Xiandi gripped her shoulders. “Do you always treat strangers like this when you skip your medicine?”

Even the most composed person can be a paper tiger. Ding Xiandi was a blank slate when it came to romance; she hadn’t even sorted out her own feelings for You Fuling. A trash-tier Qi-refinement cultivator stood no chance against a high-level master. She was quickly pinned down.

As the bed curtains fell, You Fuling leaned over her. “Do you remember what you promised me?”

Ding Xiandi remembered the line about “relieving desire.” She tilted her head slightly, her gaze measuring the other girl in the dim light of the mining lamp. This “aggressive” person felt a terrifying sense of being swallowed up that transcended cultivation levels.

Ding Xiandi instinctively let go, but her hand was snatched back. You Fuling’s loose hair brushed against her open collar, a fine itch spreading over her skin. Ding Xiandi looked up at the pale face of this frail yet powerful sister and asked with a half-smile:

“You Fuling, do you even know how to do it?”

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