After Transmigrating into a Book, I Became Partners with My Mortal Enemy - Chapter 5

“Come?”

Ding Xiandi rarely wore skirts before. After transmigrating into the book, everyone’s standard attire consisted of layered Daoist robes.

Even sword cultivators emphasized the fluidity of outer robes and the graceful execution of hand seals, with the academy offering specialized courses on Daoist etiquette.

The original host knew her appearance was ordinary. Her status as a disciple of the three major sects didn’t grant her much prestige instead, it became one reason others mocked her for being unworthy.

Usually keeping her head down and remaining inconspicuous, everything changed when she fell in love with Ming Jing.

The book described the original host from Ming Jing’s perspective:

[Ming Jing had long forgotten when she first saw Ding Xiandi perhaps in the Silent Water Hall upon entering the academy, or maybe brushing past her at the airship dock.]

[Her vague recollection remained of the other walking hurriedly with lowered head, copper-coin patterned hair ribbons fluttering in the wind.]

The female lead who claimed not to remember truly didn’t recall the original host from before, what remained were mostly impressions.

The original host walked with her head down, as if rushing somewhere.

Ding Xiandi walked with her head held high, even while carrying someone.

The sword cultivator’s robes fluttered with her steps as she shook her head, “Why would I come voluntarily? Unless something unexpected happened, oh, but it already has.”

She had her suspicions: “Probably dead.”

“A car accident. Only me and the driver in the vehicle.”

Ding Xiandi’s parents had married without affection.

A seventeen-year-old girl didn’t possess profound understanding of love, though she’d witnessed her parents dating others.

Emotions meant crossing boundaries and uncontrollable possessiveness entanglements Ding Xiandi wanted no part of.

Even without this accident, she would have followed her parents’ path into a marriage maximizing political advantages.

Following the arrow markers, she bypassed the airships and ascended the academy’s cloud ladder. “Might have been arranged by one of my father’s mistresses.”

Her tone betrayed no sorrow, even carrying a hint of concealed excitement. “What about you?”

You Fuling: “Probably dead too. You know about my physical condition.”

Around them, gentle breezes whispered as a flock of cranes flew past.

Further back, Mei Chi clung to Ji Ting while the usually honest senior sister from the Refining Heaven Sect rarely cursed aloud: “How could your second senior sister do this? She kidnapped my junior sister!”

Mei Chi’s eyes looked vacant, but her words remained sharp: “Isn’t your junior sister supposed to be a genius? If she follows someone so easily, she must be willing.”

Ji Ting found herself speechless.

Mei Chi continued: “I think she developed unrequited feelings for my senior sister and is cursing her now just to get her attention.”

The Refining Heaven Sect’s senior sister nearly fainted, wondering what that shabby sword cultivator could possibly be worth admiring.

Ji Ting recalled their first day at Celestial Peak Academy, when You Fuling had acted strangely upon hearing Ding Xiandi’s name during the sect lineup. Guiltily, Ji Ting thought: Surely not.

Ding Xiandi steadily carried You Fuling. Though in different bodies, some aspects of them remained unchanged.

She said: “Not necessarily. Whose name could be more ill-omened than yours? Didn’t you have to accompany your elders’ funeral processions?”

You Fuling shook her head: “I killed my elder brother.”

They happened to be passing a pavilion. Another hundred steps would bring them to the cultivation dormitories for disciples of various departments.

Ding Xiandi set down the person in her arms, asking in surprise: “You had an elder brother?”

Earlier, Ding Xiandi had lifted a corner of You Fuling’s veil, glimpsing the black patterns snaking across the left side of her face.

It wasn’t about ugliness just different from before.

The previous You Fuling possessed a cold beauty, while the current her resembled ink bleeding into white paper, carrying an acquired sinister aura.

She didn’t look at Ding Xiandi, her tone indifferent: “If I kill him, there won’t be any more.”

Ding Xiandi turned his face to look at her.

The girl’s appearance seemed more fragile than before. She didn’t respond, as if casually asking: “Did you hear what I said?”

You Fuling: “What?”

Ding Xiandi: “Do you want to marry me?”

“In this world, it should be called forming.”

Those who had just transmigrated into the book found it hard to adapt whether it was the sea of clouds, the pavilions, or the flying birds, everything felt so unfamiliar.

Ding Xiandi’s eyebrows drooped: “Cultivation partners.”

These two words were spoken with a mix of heaviness and lightness.

Just as the other person was about to speak, Ding Xiandi corrected himself: “No, you must form a cultivation partnership with me.”

You Fuling nearly choked on her breath.

Since childhood, she had been mocked as the “Princess and the Pea.” Her mother had worried endlessly about her, fearing that a single misstep would lead to her death.

With such a daughter, You Fuling’s mother had lived in constant anxiety over the years, and the house was always quiet.

You Fuling existed outside the realm of liveliness.

Her friends were playmates arranged by her family, and interactions driven by tasks could hardly be called sincere.

Her classmates were mere acquaintances; deeper conversations were impossible, as she couldn’t afford the time.

Most of the time, You Fuling was the one observing from the sidelines.

She spent little time at school, mostly gazing into the distance from the rooftop.

This spot was undisturbed and offered a view of the baseball field behind.

Ding Xiandi, well-known among the students, exercised with friends and classmates.

She seemed to get along with everyone.

Enthusiastic, generous, cheerful, yet retaining an air of noble elegance, she could be the perfect heir in any situation that required her presence.

They had been compared since childhood. Her father, concerned about face, pressured You Fuling.

He said that during his student days, he had lost many times to Ding Xiandi’s father, and as his daughter, she must surpass Ding Xiandi.

You Fuling could hold her own academically against Ding Xiandi but couldn’t outdo her in sports.

She didn’t even qualify to compete.

Getting too excited would cause her to faint, and the sound of emergency care would invade her dreams, becoming another kind of alarm.

Many had urged her parents to have another child, but her mother refused, and her father declined as well.

On the surface, it seemed like a bond stronger than gold, but in the end, it concluded as an absurd drama.

It turned out her father had a healthy child even before marriage.

As for marriage, You Fuling had imagined her partner might be arranged by her parents.

Perhaps chosen by her grandparents; even if gender wasn’t a restriction, it would never be Ding Xiandi.

Who would have thought that with a shift in time and space, she would be so close to the most distant Ding Xiandi.

Here, in this otherworldly cultivation apartment adorned with gas-lit lanterns, on a chair in the cloud-sea pavilion, the other had proposed marriage to her.

From a proposal, it turned into a demand, or perhaps coercion.

Outside, dusk was falling. The Tianji Dao Academy, perched atop the archipelago, spanned several peaks.

The Sword Cultivation Department, with the most disciples, occupied two peaks, while the other departments each had one.

Aside from the meeting halls of the master sects, the remaining peaks served as administrative centers for the academy’s various affairs.

In this world, cultivators only achieved fasting after reaching the Nascent Soul stage, so the academy still had dining halls.

Given the lengthy academic system, there was also a mission hall where disciples could earn spirit stones.

Entering or leaving the academy required approval, with strict discipline and cumbersome procedures that often drew complaints.

You Fuling, who had just managed to calm her emotions, felt them surging again. Her lips trembled, and she struggled to suppress the convulsions in her hands.

She tried to suppress the strange sensation, but her spiritual power suddenly spiraled out of control again, like a balloon pricked with multiple holes.

Ding Xiandi noticed it too.

Before transmigrating into this book, she had only ever observed You Fuling from afar. At most, they had crossed paths briefly as children.

Back then, their fathers’ relationship hadn’t yet completely shattered over some project.

Ding Xiandi’s impression of You Fuling was that of a sickly girl who had to pause and rest after just a few bites of food. Once she finished her third bite, she would sit quietly off to the side, lost in thought.

She was a boring person.

Ding Xiandi guessed the other girl didn’t know she had transmigrated into the book.

You Fuling wouldn’t read anything unrelated to her studies.

Seeing the girl on the verge of fainting again, Ding Xiandi reached out to pat her back and help her catch her breath.

The original host’s cultivation was weak, inherently struggling to gather spiritual energy.

If not for her status as a disciple of the Dianxing Sect, she wouldn’t even qualify to enter the Tianji Dao Academy.

Ding Xiandi’s comforting gestures were merely superficial.

She lacked the romance of a normal person’s proposal and made no effort to soften her assertiveness: “It’s fine if you don’t agree.”

Outside the academy’s dormitory hall, the sea of clouds at dusk stretched endlessly, and the mechanical crane’s cry sounded unnervingly realistic.

On the opposite mountain peak, it seemed someone had initiated a challenge swift as lightning. Ding Xiandi curiously gazed into the distance, while You Fuling stole several glances at her.

Just moments ago, she had been disappointed that this plain appearance was unworthy of the name “Ding Xiandi,” but now, that plainness had transformed into unparalleled beauty.

The other girl’s eyes sparkled, as vivid as the many times You Fuling had looked at her in the original world.

She asked, “What’s your reason?”

This pavilion was located just outside the cultivation dormitories.

They had only sat down for a short while, yet every returning disciple cast them curious glances.

Even if Ding Xiandi didn’t care about the whispers, she was tired of the unchanged treatment since transmigrating. “Do you live in a single room? I’ll go to your place.”

The Tianji Dao Academy was like a closed-off university, with varying tuition fees for different departments and even greater disparities in student living costs.

If the original host’s Dianxing Sect weren’t among the three great sects, it might not even compare to other minor sects.

Ding Xiandi and her junior sister, Mei Chi, lived in the Ren-level dormitory.

The Tian-level offered single rooms with no disturbances, the Di-level had double rooms, and the Ren-level quadrupled that with four-person rooms.

The original host didn’t room with her junior sister Mei Chi.

The other three roommates were from outside the three great sects. They looked down on the original host’s low cultivation and shabby demeanor and had bullied her relentlessly.

You Fuling asked, “Why?”

She and Ding Xiandi had hardly ever spoken, but that didn’t stop her from expressing her dislike. “You’re really rude.”

The sword cultivation department’s blue-and-white uniform made Ding Xiandi’s coin-patterned attire seem out of place, as if she ought to be draped in gold and crimson.

Ding Xiandi replied, “I finally found you. Is it so hard to treat me well?”

They had been born on the same starting line, with equal privileges and resources, two distinct types sprouted from the same soil.

Ding Xiandi didn’t need to ask in advance to know that You Fuling’s living arrangements would suit her just fine.

This subtle upper hand lifted You Fuling’s spirits considerably. She removed the other’s hand from her back. “I don’t need anything from you.”

Her words came out in gasps, as if her body remained broken and fragile even in this new world.

Ding Xiandi thought of the half of her face beneath the veil, patterned like a tattoo, and realized that this person was fragile no matter where she was.

Ding Xiandi hummed in acknowledgment, conceding naturally: “Then it’s me who needs you. I can’t do without you, A Shan. Do me a favor.”

As she spoke, she couldn’t resist stroking the other’s silk-like long hair.

Ding Xiandi had changed her own face, while for You Fuling, it was like she had simply changed into ancient-style clothing.

The other had always had long hair since childhood.

Some said she was rigid and dull, others claimed she had a unique charm, and there were those who wanted to taste that charm.

Ding Xiandi never interjected when others discussed her, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to touch.

You Fuling hadn’t noticed; she was too overwhelmed by that form of address, her mind spinning. “What did you call me?”

Ding Xiandi looked up, her slightly narrow eyes lifting at the corners when she smiled, the unrestrained spirit within radiating boundless fervor.

Even with a cold undertone, it still held a uniquely captivating allure.

“Ah Shan, isn’t that right?”

She stood up as well. Though she clearly needed You Fuling to lead the way, she carried herself as if she were the one guiding.

Those accustomed to making decisions never hesitated.

The surrounding gazes held curiosity, surprise, and even scorn directed at Ding Xiandi, but she paid no mind.

The impoverished sword cultivator whispered in the other’s ear, “I know your family calls you that.”

You Fuling felt the warmth of their interlocked fingers, the unusual intimacy nearly overwhelming her senses.

She asked, “Why do you want to become cultivation partners with me?”

The celestial-grade apartment was to the right, passing through pavilions and tucked deep within the mountain valley, with winding cloud staircases.

It featured not only hot springs but also tea rooms and more clearly the effect of monetary power.

Ding Xiandi: “If I don’t partner with you, I’ll be tied to Ming Jing. Can’t you see that?”

The mineral gas lamps lit up indoors, while the natural glow of dusk poured in from above.

Ding Xiandi wasn’t used to the cumbersome robes of the sword cultivator sect. She rolled up her sleeves and picked up the teapot from the table, revealing her thin forearms marked with the original owner’s old scars.

Leaning her cheek on her hand, she drank tea while observing You Fuling, who sat primly across from her.

Compared to You Fuling, Ding Xiandi had encountered the other’s parents more often.

She had attended more business events than You Fuling.

The story of the domineering CEO and the poor girl never grew old, yet it always ended in a relationship that was harmonious in appearance but divided at heart.

Ding Xiandi even wondered if she was better suited to be a private detective.

For instance, she kept accidentally stumbling upon her father’s affairs, and even the father of her nominal rival had been caught by her with someone else.

It didn’t surprise Ding Xiandi that You Fuling had an older brother.

What intrigued her was You Fuling’s statement: “I killed my brother.”

It seemed this wasn’t a boring person either.

Her eyes roamed up and down, as if she wanted to strip the delicate girl opposite of her clothes and measure her personally. You Fuling asked, “What exactly are you looking at?”

Ding Xiandi: “You.”

The tea was warm, and as a recent transmigrator, everything felt fresh to her.

After observing the person, she turned her attention to the surroundings, as if even a crack on the teacup could reveal something fascinating.

The atmosphere grew somewhat strange.

You Fuling changed the subject: “You’re not even her anymore, yet you still like Ming Jing?”

Ding Xiandi rested her cheek on her hand, finished her water, and tapped her fingers on the table, playing the melody of their high school dismissal bell.

Her voice was the same as before as she asked You Fuling, “You don’t read novels, do you?”

You Fuling was far more acclimated to this world than Ding Xiandi. In her mind, “novels” translated to “storybooks” and then to something else.

After a moment, she nodded: “I do.”

Ding Xiandi: “Like what?”

You Fuling listed world literary classics, and Ding Xiandi laughed so hard she nearly choked.

Her hair wasn’t as meticulously styled and flowing as You Fuling’s.

The original owner’s hair ties even had laughable coin patterns, but after the soul swap, they became an accent to her smile.

People always described them as archrivals.

The truth was, they weren’t close and had barely spoken to each other. Everything they knew about one another came from the information shared by those around them.

That kind of smile was clearly a mocking one. You Fuling asked, “What are you laughing at now?”

Ding Xiandi didn’t know how to explain it to her. “In short, we’ve been transported into a novel, and the female lead is Ming Jing.”

This time, it was You Fuling’s turn to laugh.

Her skin was as pale as snow, and her lifelong frailty had seeped into her very soul, making it easy for others to overlook her formidable cultivation.

Even her cold laughter carried a crisp, icy clarity. “Ming Jing? The female lead? And what about you? What role do you play?”

Ding Xiandi let out a long sigh. “The villainess who pines for her but never gets her.”

“Didn’t I already get rejected by her? Next, I’ll be plagued by inner demons, fall into demonic cultivation, and lose my mind to the point of drugging her.”

You Fuling raised an eyebrow. “Drugging her?”

Her gaze was pure and innocent, both in the past and now, like a pristine sheet of white paper.

But that paper had been stained with blood perhaps it wasn’t so pristine after all.

Ding Xiandi couldn’t resist teasing her. “Yeah, something that unleashes one’s primal instincts, like this…”

She even gestured with her hands, “…and that.”

You Fuling asked, “Two women?”

Ding Xiandi nodded. You Fuling gave her a deep, meaningful look. “I never expected you to be that kind of person.”

That look was far too suggestive. Ding Xiandi shook her head. “What do you mean, ‘that kind of person’? It’s the original character, not me.”

You Fuling shook her head again. “Do you like women?”

Afraid she might misunderstand, Ding Xiandi avoided answering directly and instead clarified,

“It’s not because I like you that I married you.”

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