After Transmigrating Into a Cannon Fodder, I Got a Happy Ending with the Female Lead [Transmigration Into a Novel] - Chapter 4

Qing He stepped out of the stone gate. Behind her, the halo of light suddenly flickered and then instantly died away.

“The Life Gate’s vitality is severed?”

She frowned at the black mist shrouding the sky, remembering the mortal she had just thrown down there.

That one was a Dao cultivator—shouldn’t be that weak, right?

She worried for only a moment before her thoughts returned to normal.

If that girl accidentally fell into the illusions of the evil spirits and was devoured, it would only prove she was too weak.

Qing He had her own matters to deal with. It wasn’t worth wasting time on a useless mortal.

She soared away, and the full view of Mount Fuyu gradually came into sight.

The spiritual beasts that once roamed the mountain had vanished, rare spirit plants no longer existed, and only ordinary vegetation remained, with thin spiritual energy.

On the outer slopes, where Fusang trees ought to have grown, there were traces of human activity. They had felled trees, moved stones, and built their own houses.

Humans are always this selfish, Qing He thought.

Ahead lay Mount Feng. Spiritual energy thrived there, but her brother’s seal was placed upon it—she could not enter.

Her cold gaze sharpened, glinting like a thin blade radiating an icy brilliance.

After all these years, her brother was still guarding against her.

That place was long meaningless to her anyway.

Suddenly, pain throbbed in her wrist. The seal within her body loosened, green vines slithered across her skin, and faint emerald light flickered along her veins.

Qing He froze.

The Love-Devouring Grass poison! Why is it still in my body?!

Shock quickly turned to fury. It must be that mortal’s doing! Otherwise, with my cultivation, how could a mere lust-poison remain unresolved?

She must have underestimated her. That so-called weakness and fear of death—perhaps it was all an act.

The green glow grew brighter, heat flooding Qing He’s body as an indescribable agitation rose within her chest.

Her teeth clenched, and faint crimson swirled beneath her pitch-black pupils.

“Damn mortal! I will kill you!”

Her roar startled countless birds into flight. Even her own breath faltered, and she nearly fell from the sky.

Blood churned, emotions surged. Even with all her power suppressing it, the torment of the poison was unbearable.

Qing He, who had endured her brother cutting out her celestial bones without a sound, was now writhing under this poison.

She knew she should find that mortal immediately and break the poison through union. But the thought of that scheming face made her rage boil over.

She should have killed her back then!

Drifting down, Qing He sat cross-legged and attempted to expel the poison. But the Love-Devouring Grass had already rooted within her body, even creeping toward her heart meridians.

Her eyes opened, cold light gleaming.

Fine then. I’ll find that mortal. At worst, I’ll cure the poison first—and then kill her. No one will know.

If used merely as a tool, that mortal was still useful.

She returned to the stone gate. The Life Gate was destroyed, thick black mist covered the sky, darkness so deep one could not see a hand before their face.

Qing He narrowed her eyes at the clawing evil spirits stirring in the mist. They seemed eager to cross the Life Gate toward Mount Fuyu.

This is no place for filthy wretches like you!

She formed a demonic seal and struck. The mist scattered, only to quickly gather again, surging back fiercer than before.

The spirits had grown more frenzied, the black mist more condensed and powerful.

“What’s going on?” Qing He frowned.

If they crossed the Life Gate, they would wreak havoc upon the mortal world. She glanced at the dwellings below, swiftly turned her hands in seals, and charged into the black mist.

In her sleep, Yue Xi heard someone calling her name.

“Xi Xi… Xi Xi…”

Listening closely, it sounded like Yan Yi. She forced her eyes open and found herself in a strange space.

Everything was white. Silent—she couldn’t even hear her own breath.

Above, white. Below, white. Yet when she moved, ripples spread beneath her feet like waves.

In the distance, the whiteness blurred everything together, merging into infinity.

Standing still, Yue Xi strained to listen, but Yan Yi’s voice did not return.

“Yan Yi! Yan Yi!”

She called several times, but no reply came. Frustration welled.

Suddenly, a breeze brushed her ear, and Yan Yi’s voice echoed once more.

“Xi Xi, be careful.”

The world warped violently. Light and shadow twisted. Yue Xi jolted awake—only to find the room as cold as an ice cellar.

She sneezed hard. The green smoke curling toward her quickly shrank back.

“Why is it so cold?” she muttered, glancing at the wide-open window.

“So the wind blew it open.”

As she moved to close it, the courtyard outside shocked her.

By day it had been lush with blossoms. Now it was withered branches, dead leaves, and towering weeds taller than a person, swaying like sinister phantoms.

The wind roared stronger. Yue Xi squinted. When she opened her eyes again, the peonies bloomed gorgeously, swaying in the breeze.

Am I hallucinating?

She blinked rapidly. The courtyard was pristine again, nothing out of place.

The door creaked, and Chen Wu entered carrying food.

“Sorry, it took me some time to find these.”

She set bowls of rice and dishes on the table, smiling. “Sister Yue Xi, make do with this. Tomorrow I’ll prepare something better.”

Yue Xi’s mouth watered.

Fried shrimp, steamed carp, sweet-and-sour ribs, roast duck—exactly her favorites!

She sat down, lifting her chopsticks. But just as she was about to pick up a shrimp, the door blew open. Another Chen Wu stood at the entrance.

Yue Xi froze. Another one?

The newcomer rushed forward, shouting: “Sister Yue Xi, don’t eat!” With a sweep of her sleeve, the dishes overturned.

Plates crashed to the floor, but nothing spilled. Instead of meat, the dishes revealed rotting, maggot-infested carcasses.

Yue Xi gagged violently.

Chen Wu stepped protectively before her, glaring at the impostor.

“Don’t you have any shame?”

The “Chen Wu” sneered, dissolving into smoke and vanishing.

Suppressing her nausea, Yue Xi asked, “What was that thing?”

But Chen Wu only smiled strangely.

Alarm prickled Yue Xi. She edged back.

Another gust of wind. The censer on the dressing table fell, scattering ash. Thick smoke billowed, cloaking Chen Wu, whose body swelled grotesquely and face twisted into monstrosity.

“Delicious. Truly delicious.” The warped Chen Wu shrieked, lunging at Yue Xi.

Yue Xi brandished her peachwood sword, vision swallowed by the demon’s form. Darkness fell.

With a shudder, she woke from the dream.

Glancing at the censer—it sat intact, incense burned to ash but no smoke. The door was shut. No rotting corpses, only the window ajar with peony-scented wind drifting in.

Just a dream. Relief washed over her. She rose to close the window.

When she turned back, Chen Wu stood behind her, smiling sweetly.

“Sister Yue Xi, you’re finally awake.”

Unease gnawed. Yue Xi forced a stiff smile.

“Since you’re awake, come eat.”

Her heart leapt into her throat. How could she dare eat?

Chen Wu carried dishes to the table. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I prepared according to my taste.”

Yue Xi peeked—thankfully, no shrimp, carp, or roast duck.

She exhaled slightly—until Chen Wu asked, “You don’t like these? Shall I cook something else?”

“No, no, I’m just… not hungry,” Yue Xi rushed to say.

Chen Wu stared for ten long seconds, then suddenly smiled.

“Why are you so afraid of me? Do you think I’d eat you?”

Well… you are a ghost, Yue Xi thought bitterly.

Chen Wu pulled her to the table, pressing her down.

“These weren’t easy to prepare. You won’t reject them, right?”

Her hand trembled around the chopsticks.

Eat and die. Don’t eat, also die. Better fight for a slim chance!

She slammed the chopsticks down, seized her sword, and tried to rise—only to be pinned instantly.

So fast?!

Chen Wu’s eyes blackened entirely, white gone. Her hand fell off, oozing tar-like blood.

“Why won’t you eat? Hm? What do you want to eat?”

Blood poured from her orifices. Her eyes dropped out, rolling into the dish.

“Oh?” She grinned, mouth stretching to her ears.

What kind of cursed mess is this?! Yue Xi despaired.

Others left mountains easily—why was hers so full of nightmares? Unfair!

But fairness didn’t matter now—survival did. Chen Wu had ripped out her heart, holding it before Yue Xi.

“Eat. This is my greatest sincerity.”

The bloody heart, still warm, reeked of iron.

Yue Xi nearly vomited. But wasn’t refusing to eat someone’s heart… rude?

Chen Wu pressed it to her lips, screaming: “Eat! Eat it now!”

The stench was overwhelming. As it touched her mouth, Yue Xi’s eyes flew open.

Cold sweat drenched her. She still clutched the peachwood sword, her Ten-Day Talisman Primer open before her.

Another dream.

Damn it!

Even her patience snapped—she swore aloud.

This time, she wouldn’t close the window. She’d leave the cursed room.

She pulled at the door—it wouldn’t budge. Tugging with both hands, it was stuck as if glued.

A chill swept her neck, breath against her skin.

Rigid, she turned. Nothing there.

Illusion?

The burnt-out censer began to smoke again, all drifting toward the darkness, where a figure formed.

Yue Xi’s legs stiffened. The door remained sealed, and the figure drew nearer.

“Hello, my food.”

Too blunt—she had no words.

“You have the aura of true Daoist arts. Are you a cultivator?”

Awkwardly, Yue Xi replied, “More or less.”

“I studied once as well. Whose disciple are you?”

Knowing her half-baked skills, she dared not shame her master. “I… taught myself. No sect.”

A sly smile. “As well you should. If you had a master yet ended up like this, you’d be cast out.”

Excuse me?!

She bit her tongue, keeping calm. Survival first.

The shadow closed in, her strength draining away.

“Don’t think of running. You won’t escape me, little Daoist.”

The incense burned out. The shadow’s body grew solid, features emerging—beautiful, almost androgynous, though deathly pale.

Clad in a moon-white robe, hair tied high, posture tall, aura proud yet tinged with careless insolence.

Seeing her form, the shadow smirked. Then her gaze on Yue Xi shifted.

“Pretty face. Eating you would be a waste.”

Yue Xi raised her sword, eyes cold. “What do you want?”

With a flick of her sleeve, the ghost struck it from her grasp.

What the—?! How am I supposed to fight this?!

The ghost closed in, arm sliding around her waist, fingers tilting her chin. Hot breath caressed her ear.

Goosebumps erupted. Yue Xi tried to shove her off, but her limbs were limp, useless.

This life is dogshit!

The ghost inhaled deeply at her neck, savoring.

“Fragrant hair, soft jade skin—exactly my taste.”

Yue Xi wanted to spit at her, but no sound came.

The lips neared. Yue Xi shut her eyes tight.

But just before they touched, a sharp cold wind struck. Half the ghost’s body blew apart.

Snarling, she turned—then froze, terror flashing. With a hiss, she vanished into smoke.

Yue Xi collapsed, but fell into a warm, firm embrace.

“So useless.”

The voice was pleasant—though the words stung.

A faint herbal scent filled her nose. Her strength slowly returned. At the same time, her right palm flared with green light, burning painfully.

That familiar sensation jolted her. Something flashed in her mind—almost within reach, then gone.

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