After Transmigrating Into a Cannon Fodder, I Got a Happy Ending with the Female Lead [Transmigration Into a Novel] - Chapter 13

Yue xi was entangled by the black mist, only able to hear eerie voices.

There were men’s hoarse shouts, women’s weeping, children’s shrill cries, and the wheezing cough of the elderly, like a broken bellows…

All interwoven together, like a death warrant slowly consuming her life.

Yue xi felt the chill seeping into her body, her limbs numb. She knew if this went on, she’d be dead. Summoning all her strength, she lifted her arm, bit her finger, and drew a talisman in the air.

It was the only one she had learned from Ten Days to Master Talismans—the Evil-Repelling Talisman.

These things clinging to her couldn’t devour her instantly, only erode her life bit by bit, which meant they weren’t too strong.

With the final stroke complete, the talisman flashed white. Instantly the voices grew tenfold, making her eardrums ache as if drills were boring into her head.

When the noise reached its peak, it abruptly fell silent, like hitting a critical point.

Yue xi felt the chill fading. Her bound limbs loosened, and she could finally move again.

The darkness before her cleared, revealing her surroundings.

She was in the room Chen Wu had arranged for her.

Not Princess Chen Wu, but Ghost Chen Wu.

The furnishings resembled those of the princess’s chambers, but the place reeked of yin energy. On the floor lay a toppled incense burner, and faint black stains seeped through like ancient blood.

This wasn’t the dream-room she had once lived in. It was the chamber of Chen Wu and Cui Ping.

The bloodstains must have been Cui Ping’s vomit. The incense left unburnt gave off a pungent stench.

When Yue xi moved her leg, something seemed wrapped around it. Looking down, she saw a green vine.

The ground was littered with withered vines, seemingly corroded by yin energy.

The vine around her leg was also shrouded in black mist, yet it struggled stubbornly to protect her from the evil force.

Yue xi froze, then murmured, “Are you protecting me?”

As if it understood, the vine strained, forcing the black mist back before snapping in two.

Yue xi picked up the shriveled vine and tucked it into her robe, then moved toward the door.

When she opened it, only endless darkness lay beyond, as if one step outside would mean eternal damnation.

She immediately retreated—the room was safer than that abyss.

But here, she was alone. Cui Ping’s ghost was gone, and the little ghost girl who always followed her was nowhere to be seen.

The girl had once warned her that dreams could trap people. Was she still trapped in Chen Wu’s dream?

Yue xi’s heart tightened. Still, aside from worrying, she could do nothing.

But the girl was strong—surely she could find her way out.

Yue xi retrieved her bundle, took yellow paper and cinnabar, and drew several talismans, tossing them into the dark outside. But the darkness didn’t react at all.

Like throwing dumplings to a dog.

Though simple, each talisman still drained her energy. After a few, Yuexi felt hollowed out.

But sitting idle wasn’t her way. Even exhausted, she flipped through the books given by her senior brothers, searching for a way to break free.

The texts on Daoist mysticism were obscure and dense. After just one, her head throbbed.

Rubbing her temples, she tried to ease the pain when suddenly the incense burner rolled to her feet, though no wind had stirred it.

Sensing ill omen, she tried to kick it away. But the moment her foot touched it, the burner shone brilliantly.

In the blink of an eye, spring sunlight spread, peonies bloomed in dazzling colors, their fragrance thick in the air.

Huh?

The courtyard looked like that of the princess’s palace, though its edges showed signs of decay—the illusion’s creator could barely sustain it.

At the waterside pavilion, Chen Wu and Cui Ping sat together, smiling as if no grudge had ever existed between them.

Yue xi was about to approach when someone grabbed her arm.

She turned—and met a cold, breathtakingly beautiful face.

Qing he.

Qing he motioned with her eyes toward the ground. Yuexi looked down—at a crack a zhang wide, mist swirling below with no end in sight.

“Are we still in the dream?” Yue xi asked, steadying her voice.

Qing he shook her head. “The dream has collapsed. We’re inside Chen Wu’s illusion now.”

Her eyes flicked over Yuexi—safe and unharmed. Qing he’s expression eased slightly.

Feeling the warmth of a living body, Yue xi’s nose stung. She suddenly embraced Qing he. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Qing he stiffened, about to push her away—but the faint sob in Yue xi’s voice stopped her.

Fool.

How could she be harmed, when Yuexi was the weak one?

But Yue xi clung tightly. “That vine… you left it to protect me, didn’t you?”

Qing he was silent.

Yuexi hugged her tighter, insistent. “Didn’t you?”

“…Yes.”

The dream had collapsed too suddenly, and with little power left, Qing he could only leave a vine to guard Yue xi and sense her presence.

Yue xi’s heart softened. “When we get out, I’ll find a way to restore your body.”

Qinghe said nothing, letting Yue xi’s imagination wander.

“Don’t worry. Even if you lose your powers as a human, I’ll protect you.”

This was the trial of the Gate of Life. Once they passed, they could live normally again—Yuexi believed so.

Qing he: …

Could this Daoist really not feel her human warmth?

Still hugging her, Yuexi dreamed of a bright future.

At length, Qing he asked coolly, “How long do you plan on holding me?”

“As long as my heart beats.”

Qing he: … Then perhaps I should stop it.

“If you don’t let go, we’ll both die in Chen Wu’s illusion.”

Yue xi valued her life too much to risk that. She instantly released her.

Looking back, she saw Chen Wu and Cui Ping still conversing calmly—yet behind them, thick black mist gathered, as if to devour them both.

What the—?

Yuexi was stunned.

Chen Wu plucked a hairpin from her head, offering it to Cui Ping. “Yours. Take it back.”

He didn’t reach for it. The pin fell, dissolving into smoke.

His face twisted, cracks spreading as blood and pus seeped from his orifices.

“Chen Wu, we were husband and wife. Must you be so ruthless?”

Chen Wu’s expression didn’t change. Behind her veil, a soft laugh. “You’re already dead. How could this be called ruthless?”

The black mist surged, and Cui Ping convulsed in pain.

Chen Wu leaned down slightly, eyes glinting. “You hid yourself well after death. I searched for years, waiting here. And yet, you were lured out by a mere human. So impatient.”

Her smile mocked. “You almost succeeded. Too bad.”

Cui Ping tried to fight back—but Chen Wu’s hand closed on his throat, his body shattering piece by piece.

“After you died, I sealed your orifices with nails, left your corpse exposed for seven days, then ground your bones to ash. You can never escape me.”

“You thought hiding was enough? I can wait forever.”

Her fair, delicate face turned pale, eyes darkened with death’s shadow, her aura twisted by black mist.

“You deceived me, betrayed me—fine. But colluding with the enemy? You were a marquis, sworn to Chen. Even after defeat, no one blamed you. Yet you plotted with barbarians to destroy us. Where was your conscience?!”

Cui Ping’s bulging eyes pleaded, but Chen Wu silenced him.

“What now? More sweet lies?”

“I could forgive anything else. But treason must be punished with death!”

As a princess, Chen Wu had little power to serve her nation—except to kill Cui Ping, preventing war.

“And don’t worry. Your concubine will join you soon. For treason, the whole clan dies. Since Wang Fu entered your house, she must be buried with you. Blame your impatience—had you delayed, she might have lived.”

Chen Wu had long known of his countless affairs. So long as they didn’t confront her, she tolerated them—after all, she had begged to marry him. The bitter fruit was hers to swallow.

But Wang Fu had sought this herself.

Yue xi felt a strange satisfaction at Chen Wu’s words, glancing at Qing he—who remained calm, eyes cold, untouched by events.

Cui Ping’s body crumbled, hands limp.

Beside him, a faint figure emerged—Wang Fu.

“If you love her so, I’ll grant you both death. But not even the Yellow Springs will let you walk together.”

Chen Wu crushed his throat. He shattered into fragments.

Wang Fu trembled silently—her tongue had been torn out.

“Don’t worry. It’s your turn.”

Though weakened, Chen Wu still destroyed her.

With both gone, her own body began to fade. She turned to Yue xi and Qing he, smiling in relief.

As she vanished, the peonies withered, snow and storm crashing down, the illusion collapsing.

Qing he shielded Yuexi, but their barrier shattered, snow cutting their faces, blood feeding the black mist.

Yuexi felt herself torn apart. Clutching Qing he’s hand, she bit her finger, drawing a complex talisman.

“Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you.”

She slapped the talisman onto Qing he. A protective shield enveloped her, blocking the evil.

But Yue xi was pulled farther away. Qing he reached for her—only to be pushed back.

“I don’t know about other humans, but I don’t fall for people so easily.”

With that, the black mist swallowed Yuexi.

Qing he’s heart jolted. Her cheeks were wet.

Tears?

Why cry for such an insignificant human?

The talisman glowed faintly. A memory flickered—slipping from her grasp.

A voice in her mind:
“Thank you for protecting me. From now on, we’re friends.”
“…Alright.”

Qing he lifted her head, tears streaming.

So Yue xi had been protecting her all along.

The talisman faded. The black mist surged. Qing he’s gaze hardened, the vine-mark behind her ear glowing.

Her eyes burned crimson. Power erupted. Hair flying, she strode toward Yuexi.

Yue xi’s fading form seemed to glimpse her approach. She closed her eyes in peace.

Chen Wu had guarded this place for centuries. With her gone, the illusion went mad.

Qing he caught Yue xi, as the world collapsed, trying to drag them down.

Pressing her finger to her brow, Qing he drew blood from her demonic mark, touching foreheads with Yue xi, binding them with a blood pact.

“From now on, our lives are one. All my power is yours.”

Her blood seeped into Yue xi’s brow, and Yue xi’s body glowed green, purifying all evil.

Drained, Qing he fell. The mark vanished, the vine-seal faded into her skin, her form reverting to that of a fifteen-year-old girl.

The illusion shattered completely. Snow engulfed all.

A single peony petal drifted with the snow, turning to light and entering Yue xi’s eyes.

Before the Gate of Life, the stone tablet cracked, greenery bursting forth, spiritual energy flourishing.

Yue xi awoke with a jolt, lying in a sea of flowers. She rose, surrounded by vibrant life.

“Wasn’t I supposed to be undergoing the Gate of Life’s trial? How did I just… fall asleep?”

Her memory was hazy. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t recall.

So she let it go, shouldered her bundle, and followed the path down the mountain.

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