After Transmigrating into a Book, I Became Partners with My Mortal Enemy - Chapter 3

“Which four words?”

“I dare not say.”

“If you won’t say, neither will I.”

“Didn’t they say You Fuling doesn’t let anyone get close? Even the wind can’t lift her veil.”

“As the disciple of the first sect’s leader, isn’t it normal for her to have many magical artifacts?”

A patched-up daoist robe brushed against the hem of high-quality clothing.

The pockmarked sword cultivator from a rundown sect actually managed to lift a corner of You Fuling’s veil.

The person before her remained unmoved, her gaze lowered as if contemplating the reason for Ding Xiandi’s sudden appearance here.

Gasps of surprise echoed continuously.

Just as Ding Xiandi was about to fully remove You Fuling’s veil, a hand shot out and slapped hers away. “How dare you act so rudely!”

Yet Ding Xiandi seemed satisfied.

Though she had only caught a glimpse, the face matched the You Fuling she remembered.

Ding Xiandi didn’t speak but instead winked at the spell cultivator being shielded behind.

The freckles on her face seemed to wobble, making Mei Chi feel a bit hungry, he suddenly craved a sesame cake.

The academy’s enrollment had age and cultivation level requirements.

Disciples from the Refining Heaven, Falling Moon, and Starlight sects were exempt from exams, and no one with low cultivation had ever been admitted before.

These three sects stood at the forefront of Liuguang’s cultivation world due to the Shattered Bone Sky Stream battle ten thousand years ago.

That battle also proved definitively that Liuguang no longer had enough spiritual energy to support ascension. The most powerful cultivator of that time, Daoist Yushan, had vanished without a trace.

Her second disciple, Lou Guantian, succumbed to qi deviation and fought her senior sister, Gong Yulu, to a mutual demise.

The remaining three disciples traveled across Liuguang, establishing their own sects.

Ding Xiandi had carefully read the first hundred chapters, grateful she had some understanding of this world otherwise, she might have wished to die facing such a situation.

The Celestial Pole Academy was located in the Wufang Islands southwest of Liuguang, home to the continent’s last remaining spiritual vein, which still held enough energy to aid cultivators in their practice.

As spiritual veins faded, underground mineral veins emerged one after another. Someone invented electricity using mineral qi, leading to the rise of the three major mineral qi corporations.

Sword flight declined, while airships flourished, causing the status of cultivators to plummet.

The power dynamics grew complex: besides the mineral qi corporations, there were cultivation families, the Hidden Heaven Bureau overseeing cultivators, and the Wings Training Pavilion, whose allegiance remained unclear.

Ten thousand years of development had turned this world into a hybrid where some pursued immortality, others sought to prove their path through technology, and some even preached mechanical ascension.

There were also those who neither cultivated nor sought greatness, content to live ordinary lives as mortals.

Who would have thought reading a novel could lead to actually transmigrating into it?

A supporting female character with the same name and surname encountered the person she had been compared to for seventeen years in her original world.

What kind of fate was this?

The senior sister of the Refining Heaven Sect, Ji Ding, stepped forward protectively in front of her junior sister.

Not to be outdone, Mei Chi, standing beside Ding Xiandi, also tried to shield his second senior sister.

Unfortunately, as he stepped forward, a steamed bun rolled out of his pocket and landed right in front of the opposing sect’s senior sister’s boot, wobbling a couple of times.

The contrast was stark, and it was hard for anyone to hold back their laughter.

The Celestial Pole Academy had the most sword cultivation disciples.

Looking back millions of years in Liuguang’s history, sword cultivation remained the major with the highest graduation rate and the highest unemployment rate.

Juan Yuanjia, lacking the decorum expected of an heir to one of the three great families, seemed to be everywhere. At this moment, she was laughing the loudest, her guffaws resembling a pig’s squeal.

Mei Chi, a grudge-holding glutton, remembered how this person had laughed like a pig when his second senior sister was rejected by Ming Jing. Unable to resist, he pulled out another steamed bun and hurled it at her.

Juan Yuanjia, not being a sect member, had no airs about him. He chuckled as he accepted Mei Chi’s steamed bun and stepped back.

Ji Ding paid no heed to the surroundings, his gaze fixed fiercely on the swordsman who had nearly lifted his junior sister’s veil. His sword slid from its scabbard as he demanded, “Ding Xiandi, aren’t you going to apologize?”

Aside from oddballs like Juan Yuanjia, everyone present could hardly conceal their curiosity about the face hidden beneath You Fuling’s veil.

Everyone knew of You Fuling’s origins, but her beauty remained the stuff of legend.

She was an infant fished out from the Butterfly Water’s edge by the sect master of Lian Tian Sect during his travels, born with a Golden Core cultivation base, a realm many cultivators struggled to achieve even after years of practice.

While disciples from other sects engaged in annual exchanges and sparring, You Fuling had never made an appearance, remaining in seclusion within Lian Tian Sect.

Had it not been for the celestial fire two years ago that damaged the sect’s protective formation, the long-secluded You Fuling might never have emerged.

That year, she participated in the inter-sect competition of Liuguang Continent. The veiled girl effortlessly claimed victory, making the term “genius” seem inadequate.

Some speculated she hid her face because it was hideous.

Others believed that, having already stolen the spotlight, if her face were as stunning as a celestial being’s, her peers from the other two major sects would be left with no standing.

While private discussions were one thing, few dared to gossip about You Fuling to her face.

The entire Lian Tian Sect took pride in her, and with Ji Ding fiercely protective of her, no one dared suggest that her veiled face might be unsightly.

No one expected You Fuling’s true appearance to be partially revealed under such circumstances, exposed by a beggar-like swordswoman who had been brutally rejected by Mi Mingjing just the day before.

When Ding Xiandi lifted the veil slightly, those standing close enough caught a glimpse.

“Who said You Fuling was plain? If she’s plain, what does that make me? I might as well not live.”

“High cultivation and stunning looks, I’ve always hated prodigies the most!”

“Now I understand why Lian Tian Sect disciples are so arrogant. With a second senior sister so breathtakingly beautiful and the top cultivator of her generation across the nine provinces, I’d bask in that glory too.”

“Ding Xiandi is truly vicious! How could she mistake her name for ‘carrying a coffin’? She’s utterly despicable.”

“The first time I heard it, I thought the same two characters. But Lian Tian Sect is a major sect surely there’s a reason for it.”

“Ding Xiandi is the one who doesn’t deserve her name. Plain-looking and still reaching for the stars.”

Harsh comments swirled around, but Ding Xiandi seemed not to hear them, unconcerned by Ji Ding’s sword pressed against her neck.

She locked eyes with You Fuling, prepared to apologize.

Even if she might have died in a car crash in another life, she didn’t want someone else to share that fate.

The beggar swordswoman, who had adored Mingjing just yesterday, showed no fear of the cold steel at her throat. Her gaze never left You Fuling, ignoring the sword’s owner entirely.

“Is this considered a private duel?”

“What private duel? Ding Xiandi brought this upon herself!”

“It wouldn’t be good if someone dies!”

As the sword edge broke skin, some closed their eyes while others pulled out their Tianji tokens, attempting to contact their mentors.

Suddenly, You Fuling reached out.

Ding Xiandi stumbled forward unexpectedly.

Had Ji Ding not sheathed his sword with lightning speed, Ding Xiandi’s head might have landed in You Fuling’s lap.

The spellcaster behind Ji Ding pushed aside his restraining hand, scrutinizing Ding Xiandi’s bleeding neck.

“What score did you get on your Mathematical Analysis exam?”

Ding Xiandi, whose collar was being grabbed, initially wanted to swat the other’s hand away, but upon hearing those words, his eyes lit up: “I’m taller than you.”

You Fuling released her grip and corrected coldly, “Wrong. I’m taller than you.”

Someone nearby, not understanding, asked, “Does the Daoist Academy offer that course?”

“Our Sword Cultivator Department only has Swordsmanship Analysis.”

“Does the Alchemy Cultivator Department have it?”

“Our Alchemy Cultivator Department doesn’t either. What’s mathematics? Don’t you Spell Cultivators calculate formations?”

“Nonsense! Our Spell Cultivator formations aren’t calculated we’ve had auxiliary tools for ages now!”

The hand gripping his collar was as pale as the glimpse he’d caught earlier at the school stairwell.

Ding Xiandi looked up and retorted, his eyes shining like morning stars, devoid of gloom, as if he were a completely different person.

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve placed first one more time than you.”

You Fuling could confirm it without a doubt.

This was Ding Xiandi, the Ding Xiandi from her world.

For seventeen years, their names had almost always been mentioned side by side, with competition organizers teasing that their rankings were interchangeable.

In reality, after years of rivalry, they were long accustomed to it.

You Fuling found the wound on his face from his failed confession to Ming Jing irritating. “You can’t beat me now.”

Ding Xiandi was still smiling, his freckles seeming to twinkle like stars. “Are you sure?”

This was Ding Xiandi.

A distant, unfamiliar thrill burned from her chest to her throat, forcing back the words she wanted to say.

Having spent seventeen years as an invalid, and having crossed into this alternate world with a healthy body for only two years, she still had irreconcilable flaws.

This body’s innate, excessive spiritual power destined her, as before, to avoid excessive emotional agitation.

Ding Xiandi was still waiting for her to say something, but instead, she fainted.

“Junior Sister!”

“Second Senior Sister!”

“Why did she faint? Did that toad Ding Xiandi poison her?”

Ding Xiandi held the unconscious girl while the other’s senior sister in this world pointed a sword at him.

With a long but rough index finger, he tapped the tip of Ji Ting’s sword. “Senior Sister, please step aside.”

Ji Ting’s appearance was reliable, and the status of the Refining Heaven Sect was unquestionable.

That You Fuling could reach this level after transmigrating into the book showed she was doing well.

Yet Ding Xiandi still couldn’t determine whether this guy’s body was truly healthy or not.

In others’ eyes, he was the gloomy, beggar-like disciple of a rundown sect, rarely making eye contact.

But now, his demeanor shed its usual shabbiness, revealing a contradictory sharpness.

Ji Ting looked properly at the Second Disciple of the Star Sect for the first time and noticed his eyes were golden or perhaps it was just her imagination.

Her heart tightened, worried about this person’s origins, and her words grew more urgent: “Give my junior sister back to me.”

The beggar sword cultivator shook his head. “No. She belongs to me now.”

Ming Jing, who had been about to leave, was pulled back by her sectmates to watch the commotion.

Juan Yuanjia leaned against a stone pillar carved with the Clear Heart Mantra, teasing, “You’ve caused trouble, and even dragged that sickly one from the Refining Heaven Sect into it.”

“I’ve always said the Point Star Sect doesn’t support idlers. You might as well get together with that beggar.”

Ming Jing shot Juan Yuanjia a glance. “If you’re so free, why not call off the engagement?”

Juan Yuanjia: “Why should I? I don’t mind you forming a Dao partnership with someone else.”

She turned her gaze to the center of the commotion, seeming to enjoy the spectacle. “Do you think, with all this fuss, our engagement might be exceptionally canceled?”

Someone in the crowd shouted at Ding Xiandi, “Aren’t you in love with Senior Sister Ming? Just yesterday you swore you’d only spend your life with her! You’re so fickle! You’re as changeable as water and flowers!”

Once one person spoke up, countless others joined in.

Ding Xiandi adjusted the other person’s veil as if tucking in a blanket, making an exaggerated show of it.

His tone was anything but serious, rising and falling dramatically as he said—

“What do you mean fickle? We’ve been together for a long time.”

“And we’ll only ever be each other’s cultivation partners.”

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