After Transmigrating into a Book, I Became Partners with My Mortal Enemy - Chapter 20.2

The Second Senior Sister, who was about to face her sword teaching exam, didn’t seem to care that she might be punished. She looked at the woman who had come with Mei Chi and asked, “Senior Aunt Zu, why are you here?”

Ji Ting was the head disciple of the Heaven-Refining Sect, but she didn’t have a status as high as Zu Jinxi’s within her own sect. For ten thousand years, few had mastered the path of alchemy as the Moon-Falling Sect’s founder had. Later, the sect opened up to other talents, including sword disciples with noble bloodlines like Ming Jing, but the culture remained focused on alchemy. The vice-sect leader could be a sword or law cultivator, but the succeeding sect leader must be an alchemist.

Ji Ting had a high reputation in her sect, and having attended many inter-sect exchange events, she had met Zu Jinxi several times. With her bloodless skin, overly thick long hair, and raspy voice, Zu Jinxi gave off an aura like a cold wind from a canyon hardly a bright or righteous presence.

If one were to speak a few more sentences with her, they would surely feel ashamed of such a cynical suspicion.

Zu Jinxi nodded in response to Ji Ting’s greeting. Her gaze swept over Mei Chi’s cheek before she flashed a smile at Ding Xiandi. “I just saw Junior Sister Mei Chi arguing with your Dao companion; she was frozen on the spot.”

“What ‘Dao companion’! It’s not official yet!” Ji Ting snapped. She looked at You Fuling, who was still staring blankly at Ding Xiandi’s wound, looking deeply pained.

Ji Ting: “…”

Ding Xiandi hooked her finger into You Fuling’s sleeve. “Why are you bullying Mei Chi?”

Mei Chi grumbled and moved closer to Ding Xiandi’s side. “Second Senior Sister, you really should reconsider. Even A-Zu is better than this woman!”

Ding Xiandi let out a surprised “Huh?” and replied, “That’s not what you told me last night.”

Zu Jinxi stood to the side talking to Ji Ting, while an alchemy disciple who clearly wasn’t from the Moon-Falling Sect looked at her with pure adoration.

“Last night?” You Fuling’s cold gaze swept over Mei Chi. “You were with her after you left me last night?”

Ji Ting couldn’t listen to any more of this. She had never known her sister had such a sharp, acidic side—especially with outsiders present.

Zu Jinxi smiled. “They are fellow disciples; Junior Sister You needn’t be so harsh. Becoming Dao companions doesn’t mean one loses their friends or their sect.”

“Exactly,” Ding Xiandi added. Her tone was soothing even through her bandages. “I’m fine. It’s normal for your sister to be dissatisfied with me. It’s just a minor—”

Before she could finish, Mei Chi shouted, “Lethal wound!”

Ding Xiandi: “…” Not quite.

Zu Jinxi shook her head, laughing. “I won’t disturb you further.” With the trouble at the Alchemy Peak today, she had plenty to attend to. As she left, Mei Chi called out and followed after her.

The alchemist who had been bandaging Ding Xiandi also departed. Ding Xiandi looked at You Fuling standing beside her and emphasized, “Really, it’s nothing. If your sister truly wanted me dead, she wouldn’t have chosen a public setting like that.”

The Sword Department had daily spars decided by random lots. With Ding Xiandi’s current strength, she was outmatched by everyone, so she truly didn’t care who her opponent was.

“My cultivation is so low I couldn’t feel anything specific,” Ding Xiandi said cautiously. The Academy’s external arrays were among the top in Liuguang; no outsider could have infiltrated. “Your sister has a high cultivation; she must have sensed something.”

Ji Ting was also frustrated. Rumors were already spreading that she had attempted to murder Ding Xiandi, which could easily escalate into a diplomatic issue between the three sects. Recalling the moment, she said firmly, “Someone tampered with the sword.”

Sword cultivators usually had their own blades. The three sects had many practitioners, and even the poorest had a standard-issue weapon from their sect. It was said that once one reached a high level, they could enter the Sword Tomb to pick a sentient blade.

However, these routine spars were conducted with Academy-issued wooden swords, and spiritual energy was forbidden—it was purely a test of physical strength. Mei Chi could take on a hundred people in such a class, making her a favorite of the masters.

As for Ding Xiandi… she failed at everything, and today she had almost been impaled by a wooden sword.

Ding Xiandi let out a long breath. She toyed with the cuff of You Fuling’s Law Department robe, feeling a hard object hidden in the sleeve. Under Ji Ting’s twitching gaze, she pulled out You Fuling’s mirror to check her face. “At least I’m not disfigured.”

You’re already covered in freckles, Ji Ting thought, what beauty is there to lose?

“Does the master know?” You Fuling asked.

Ding Xiandi lowered her head. The person in the mirror looked quite like her old self, but the “resolution” of her features had dropped significantly like the difference between 4K and 480p.

She sighed. “If they didn’t, your sister would have been hauled off by the Law Enforcement Cranes by now. She wouldn’t be standing here.”

” I will handle this,” Ji Ting stated. She shared a similar look with Ming Jing dignified, as if the responsibility for the common people was etched into her forehead. The difference was their personality. Ji Ting was far more traditional; despite being the Eldest Senior Sister, her heart was far too pure, lacking even a ten-thousandth of You Fuling’s darkness.

Ding Xiandi didn’t hide her gaze. You Fuling asked unpleasantly, “Why are you looking at my sister so intently?”

Ji Ting felt she couldn’t stay a second longer; she felt utterly superfluous. After worrying all night, she saw that You Fuling’s complexion was better than ever, showing no signs of her usual illness. It seemed their Master sending her to the Academy really had a deeper purpose. But if Ding Xiandi was the “intended person,” why go through all this trouble? Why not just arrange the marriage in the name of the three sects? Now everything was unofficial, yet making a huge scene.

“I can’t even look at your sister? You control too much,” Ding Xiandi teased. Her casual attitude was obvious, as was the crimson inner lining peeking through her robe—the very one Ji Ting had personally placed in You Fuling’s wardrobe.

The hardworking Eldest Senior Sister felt a chill in her heart. Seeing Ding Xiandi’s split lip, she finally understood what the junior sisters meant when they read those “steamy” romance novels about “ruthless hands destroying flowers.”

“Who’s controlling you?” You Fuling snapped. Even with half her face covered, her eyelashes trembled. Ding Xiandi, despite being injured, had a body temperature much higher than hers.

“I’m fine. Luckily, your sister ‘stabbed’ me with a wooden sword.” Ding Xiandi sighed. Her plain face was animated by her lively eyes, giving Ji Ting a strange sensation—an illusion that the personality didn’t match the shell.

“I will find out who tampered with the sword,” Ji Ting said. If she hadn’t controlled the trajectory of that wooden sword at the last second, it might have pierced Ding Xiandi’s heart instead of her collarbone. While a cultivator’s soul doesn’t immediately vanish upon death, it is tied to their level. With Ding Xiandi’s trash cultivation, if she died, she would simply be dead. Ji Ting also feared that this failure’s death would negatively impact her sister’s destiny.

The reliable Eldest Senior Sister left. Inside the curtained room, only Ding Xiandi and You Fuling remained.

“Your sister is so serious,” the injured girl hissed in pain as she moved. She couldn’t help but complain: “It’s a cultivation world, yet there’s no medicine to instantly regrow flesh? The pain relief is so slow.”

“It will be fine by tomorrow,” You Fuling replied.

Ding Xiandi let out a yelp. “I was hoping to use a sick note to skip the teaching exam! It’ll be better by tomorrow? That’s too fast!”

Her motives were transparent. You Fuling couldn’t help but ask, “You didn’t control that sword yourself?”

Ding Xiandi looked up at her. The mark on her lip was even more obvious in the light, which made You Fuling feel a secret joy—she wanted to leave even more marks on Ding Xiandi’s body.

She looked away. Ding Xiandi sighed mournfully, “Am I really that capable?”

“The spiritual energy I got from you vanished this morning. My dantian is empty again.” Ding Xiandi looked at her new outer robe, which now had a hole in it. Her savings were critical. “Shouldn’t you be in class right now? Why aren’t you leaving?”

“You’re chasing me away?” You Fuling asked. Her eyes were different from Ding Xiandi’s; when she looked up, it carried a different weight.

“I told you not to worry about me. I still have to go work at the library. I don’t have time to keep you company.”

The intimacy of the previous night had vanished; without her smile, Ding Xiandi looked much colder. The wind blew the curtains. The crowd outside had been dispersed by Ji Ting, and Mei Chi had chased away another wave. Just as the Law Department finished class, Juan Yuanjia and Ming Jing were heading to the Sword Tomb to serve their punishment. They stopped by to see the drama, though Ming Jing had been dragged along.

They found the room, and the moment they pulled back the curtain, they saw the injured Ding Xiandi having her chin tilted up by the veiled girl. One side of the veil had hooked onto Ding Xiandi, masking both their faces, but it was enough for those outside to see what they were doing.

Juan Yuanjia’s fan clattered to the floor. Ming Jing looked away and coughed. “Let’s go.”

Having “recharged” her spiritual energy, Ding Xiandi watched You Fuling put her veil back on and complained: “Why do you wear this thing with runes on it? Are you afraid the curse on your face will assassinate someone?”

You Fuling replied without changing her expression, “Because I am as beautiful as a celestial immortal.”

Ding Xiandi took a deep breath. She couldn’t laugh too hard because it would pull on her wound, so she just clutched her robe and endured it.

“Did I say something wrong?” You Fuling asked, stiffening.

Ding Xiandi shook her head. “I just didn’t expect you to say something like that.” In the past, they weren’t close and had barely spoken; their impressions of each other were just blurry sketches drawn by others.

“Then what was I supposed to be like?”

“Frail, beautiful, and sickly. Like a doll in a display case.” That was the evaluation others used to have for You Fuling. They knew nothing of each other; their connection was superficial, and even a kiss couldn’t sprout true intimacy yet.

The irony was that they were the two people in this world who knew each other’s secrets best.

You Fuling let out a scoff. “And now?”

Ding Xiandi’s lips still held the lingering tingle and slight pain from the kiss. Beyond that, the spiritual energy brought by the kiss was flowing into her body, creating a strange sense of fullness. Even if Ding Xiandi rarely thought along those lines, she couldn’t deny that their special constitutions were a perfect match.

One overflowing, one depleted—a perfect complement. A key and a lock, a power bank and an empty battery. It was a match made for total intrusion. For someone as good at learning as Ding Xiandi, a second attempt at kissing was much more natural than the first.

Feeling that the spiritual energy from one kiss wouldn’t last the rest of the day, Ding Xiandi pulled the mocking girl back down toward her.

Her kiss was more urgent this time. The emotion behind it wasn’t clear, but the intensity was there. You Fuling smelled the scent of elixirs on Ding Xiandi even the scent of herself. She heard the girl let go and whisper with a chuckle:

“You are as beautiful as an immortal. And quite fresh and succulent, too.”

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