After Transmigrating Into a Cannon Fodder, I Got a Happy Ending with the Female Lead [Transmigration Into a Novel] - Chapter 19

Yue xi opened her eyes and found herself lying on a soft, cozy bed. In her arms was a fluffy little head, carrying a faint fragrance from her hair that instantly calmed Yue xi’s heart.

She had never felt like this before—like the happiest person in the world.

Yue xi shifted slightly, and the person in her embrace stirred awake.

The girl’s face was tinged with the blush of sleep, her gaze still hazy, misty as if veiled in dew, and she gave Yue xi a soft, sweet smile.

“Xiao Qing?”

Yuexi was a little uncertain. It was indeed the same face, only with very subtle differences.

The girl in her arms seemed more mature than Xiao Qing. Her features carried a touch of allure, her eyes tender and enchanting, like a clear spring that soothed Yue xi’s soul and brought her inner peace.

The girl froze for a moment, then teasingly asked, “Who’s Xiao Qing?”

Yue xi instantly understood—she wasn’t Xiao Qing.

A name rose to her lips but stopped just short, no matter how she tried, she couldn’t call it out.

Seeing her struggle, the girl didn’t scold her. Instead, she poked Yue xi’s chest and playfully chided:

“I’m Qing He.”

Qing He!

The name exploded in Yue xi’s mind, her thoughts scattering into chaos yet completely blank at the same time.

When she tried to focus, she remembered nothing.
Those messy fragments were like fleeting illusions, slipping away too quickly. Yue xi even wondered if they had ever been real at all.

Inside, though, she felt calm—because this was the life she wanted. And yet, doubts lingered. Before this… what had she been doing?

“Why are you spacing out? Thinking of someone else?”

Qing He’s hand, still pressing against her chest, slid downward.

Yue xi caught the mischievous sparkle in her eyes, the hint of shy embarrassment on her face, and at once stopped thinking about anything else.

A beauty was in her arms—what use was there in dwelling on messy thoughts?

Instead of stopping Qing He’s wandering hand, Yue xi cupped her chin and kissed her, light and gentle, as if afraid of breaking something precious.

Qing He hooked an arm around her neck, gradually losing herself in the moment.

Yue xi was never one to resist temptation. If Qing He lured her in, she’d take the bait.

That was her way—always catching you off guard.

Qing He pushed lightly against her chest, face flushed. “It’s so early…”

“Weren’t you the one who touched me first?” Yue xi brushed her lips against her ear, voice a breathy whisper: “And now you complain of wantonness in broad daylight?”

Qing He trembled, her words swallowed whole by Yue xi’s kiss.

…

The next time Yue xi opened her eyes, she was beneath a locust tree heavy with blossoms.

Beside her, a beauty slept, clutching the ribbon of her robe tightly, as though afraid she might slip away.

Qing He was unnervingly quiet in her sleep—not even a sound of breathing. If not for the rise and fall of her chest, one might think she wasn’t alive.

Yuexi watched her profile silently, a silly, lovestruck smile unknowingly spreading across her face.

Too beautiful! How could anyone be this beautiful?

Qing He was a light sleeper. With Yue xi staring like that, how could she remain asleep?

She opened her eyes, adjusted to the light, then turned her head to Yuexi.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because you’re beautiful.” The words slipped straight out of Yue xi’s mouth.

No thought, no hesitation—just an honest answer.

Qing He chuckled, tugged her ribbon to pull her closer, and pecked her lips.

“Have you eaten candy? Your mouth is so sweet.”

Yue xi laughed. “Didn’t you taste it yourself?”

Qing He blinked slowly, her voice airy. “Not enough. I’ll need another taste.”

That taste quickly spiraled out of control.

The wicker chair beneath them creaked under their combined weight. Qing He sat astride Yue xi, looking down with eyes brimming full of affection.

Yue xi could feel the heat of that love, and with her lips teasing the girl’s chest, murmured indistinctly, “Now you won’t accuse me of broad daylight mischief, will you?”

Qing He cupped her face, her gaze deepening.

“Yue xi, you’ve corrupted me.”

Yue xi arched a brow.

“I actually want to be wanton with you in broad daylight.”

And with that, she kissed her—on her smooth forehead, her spring-tinted eyes, her full rosy lips, and then…

Yue xi’s throat tightened, teeth grazing by mistake. Qing He gasped, tilting her head back, slender neck arched like a proud swan.

“Qing He, Qing He…”

She whispered low, but before Qing He could answer, her voice faltered—becoming husky, weak, tinged with sensual rasp that sent a shiver straight through Yuexi’s bones.

When she looked up, Qing He’s eyes brimmed with tears. A single drop slipped free, landing on Yuexi’s lips, burning hot.

Yue xi caught it with her tongue before kissing her again. The salt vanished amidst their entwined lips.

Qing He’s cheeks and ears burned red, her skin glowing pink, tender and inviting.

The kiss lasted a long time. Yue xi finally pulled away at the sound of Qing He’s muffled whimper, satisfied to see her dazed gaze and disheveled expression.

She hugged her tightly, then set her upon the wicker chair, kneeling close behind her.

Qing He turned, confusion plain in her eyes.

Yue xi pressed against her back, one arm locked around her waist.

“Didn’t you say you wanted mischief in daylight? Then let’s see it through.”

Qing He’s breath came unsteady, her every sound broken and uneven. Yue xi whispered shameless things in her ear—words Qing He would usually hate to hear. But now, they were part of the game.

The wicker chair swayed the whole afternoon.

By sunset, when the golden light grew soft, they lay lazily in the chair, basking under the locust blossoms.

The sweet fragrance filled the courtyard, a few blossoms drifting down—one landed squarely on Yue xi’s face.

Startled, she plucked it off and teased Qing He with it.

“Does it smell good?”

“Mhm,” Qing He murmured weakly.

She had no strength left, body sinking fully into Yuexi’s embrace. Her waist and legs ached, every limb heavy and sore.

She’d learned her lesson: provoking this woman came at a price. She wouldn’t let herself be so easily overpowered again.

Yue xi peeled grapes and fed them to her. Qing He only had to open her mouth, soon her cheeks were full.

“Tasty?” Yue xi asked.

Qing He’s lips glistened with grape juice, deepening their red.

“If you’re not sure, why don’t you taste it yourself?”

A little tart—but Yue xi liked it.

Her fingers brushed across Qing He’s lips. “Alright then, I’ll taste.”

But she didn’t taste the grape. She tasted Qing He.

With her hand cradling the back of Qing He’s head, Yuexi kissed her hard and deep—dominant, claiming, not stopping until satisfied.

Qing He gasped for air, face flushed again, lips marked with small cuts—Yuexi’s handiwork.

And yet, she smiled sweetly.

“If only it could always be like this.”

Yuexi stroked her soft hair. “It will be.”

We’ll be together forever, until death parts us.

No—death won’t part us either. Even as spirits, we’ll stay side by side.

Qing He smiled, though shadows lingered in her eyes, dimming its brightness.

She buried her face against Yue xi, voice muffled.

“I hope so.”

…

The chill of nightfall woke Yue xi. Her arms were empty, making her wonder if it had all been a dream.

A breeze stirred. The scent of locust blossoms spread farther, while mist began to creep into the courtyard.

The air grew colder, sinister in a way Yue xi couldn’t ignore.

She raised her hand, ready to form seals at a moment’s notice.

“I’ve been calling you, why are you just standing there?”

Qing He stepped from the house, skirt in hand, standing tall and aloof like an untouchable goddess.

The mist seemed to thin. Yue xi saw only Qing He, missing the black fog rising from the shadows, surrounding the house.

She walked forward. Qing He waited calmly, confident Yue xi would come.

But just as she was about to reach her, a figure darted out, grabbing her hand and shielding her.

Yue xi froze. Who?

Xiao Qing turned her head, seeing Yue xi’s shock, but said nothing. She only looked at Qing He.

Qing He stared back, startled at first, then quickly composed herself.

“Come here, Yue xi.”

But Yue xi’s hand was locked in Xiao Qing’s grip—surprisingly strong for someone so small.

“Don’t go,” Xiao Qing said firmly. “Something’s wrong with her.”

Qing He’s gaze sharpened, her words cutting deep.

“So, you’re just a substitute.”

Xiao Qing trembled. Her grip loosened.

Qing He pressed on confidently: “Yue xi, how long will you waste with a mere stand-in?”

Yue xi faltered. Why were there two Qing Hes?

They looked identical—if not for a birthmark behind the ear, there was no way to tell them apart.

But Yue xi’s instincts as a cultivator always rejected evil spirits. If Qing He was a fake, she should have sensed it.

And strangely enough, being with this Qing He felt… comfortable.

Her silence made Qing He’s smile falter, her expression turning dark, her voice losing its warmth.

“Yue xi, think carefully. Do you want me, or her?”

The mist thickened, swallowing their bodies until only floating heads remained, eerie and grotesque.

Xiao Qing released her hand, bowing her head, lashes hiding her eyes.

Even so, Yuexi could feel her sorrow.

She lifted her gaze to Qing He. The girl thought Yuexi had chosen her, smiling again—only to watch as Yue xi reached for Xiao Qing’s hand instead.

The mist surged. Darkness fell.

Qing He vanished with a chilling laugh, replaced by countless drifting spirits.

The world twisted. In the blink of an eye, Yue xi and Xiao Qing stood in the wilderness, surrounded by tall grasses and trees. Moonlight cast silver shadows, stretching long and ominous.

Yue xi pulled Xiao Qing close, shielding her.

“Qing He, don’t be afraid.”

Xiao Qing froze, then turned to her with a look of grief and disappointment.

“Between me and her… can you really tell who’s who?”

(Will check for typos tomorrow, head hurts. Off to sleep.)

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