After Transmigrating Into A Novel, I Provoked The Obsessive Female Lead - Chapter 2

The wound was truly healing.

A massive, ugly gash lay casually across her flat abdomen, its flesh rolled outward, seemingly having injured her internal organs. Bright red blood oozed out bit by bit, staining her snow-white skin into a powdery pink.

Upon seeing this tragic sight, Yan Zhu, who had lived a peaceful life for over two decades, experienced a hitch in her breath and could not help but widen her eyes.

She had guessed that the young girl was heavily injured, but she had never imagined it could be this severe.

Moonlight trickled down through the stone crevices, shining coldly upon the sleeping person before her and bleaching the bloodstains of their color.

Even so, Yan Zhu was still dazzled by the large patches of glaring, tragic red. With trembling hands, she felt a profound sense of helplessness rise within her heart.

Fortunately, the wound was actually healing.

A few wisps of golden light lingered around the blood-drenched injury, gradually halting the flow of blood as the flesh was slowly smoothed out at a speed visible to the naked human eye.

Amidst her shock, Yan Zhu let out a sigh of relief.

There should no longer be the risk of dying from excessive blood loss.

The matter was temporarily resolved, and her body instantly went limp from exhaustion.

“It would be great as long as you do not die.”

Yan Zhu carefully pulled the lifted fabric back down and tidied the clothes of the sleeping person.

Seeing that the other person had escaped from a critical situation, Yan Zhu’s tense mood eased temporarily, and she finally had the leisure to observe her surroundings.

This was a fairly concealed mountain cave, with the entrance covered by weeds to block prying eyes from the outside.

The space inside the cave was not particularly large. A stone bed capable of holding a person occupied most of the area, and right above the rock wall where the stone bed rested was a circular opening, just large enough to let the moonlight filter through.

Yan Zhu’s gaze fell upon the person lying on the stone bed.

Earlier, the situation had been too critical, leaving her no time to properly examine the other person. She had only guessed from her figure and attire that she was a young girl.

Half of her face was stained with blood, and the upper half was blocked by messy strands of hair, revealing only her still youthful brows and eyes.

Seeing the girl’s furrowed brows, Yan Zhu tenderly brushed aside the strands of hair stuck to the young girl’s face.

“Although I do not know what happened to you, please have a good sleep.”

Perhaps it was just an illusion, but after saying these words, Yan Zhu seemed to see the furrowed brows relax slightly.

The dark night was silent, with the occasional sound of chirping insects.

Yan Zhu found a spot to sit down and began to review everything that had happened since arriving in this world.

First waking up in the lake water, then discovering the abnormalities in her body, followed by seeing the young girl covered in wounds appear beneath the tree…

The wisest course of action at the time would have actually been not to save her.

The risks of saving someone were simply too great. If someone injured to this extent was not a heinous criminal herself, she certainly had a group of enemies. If she got herself involved, the probability of falling into mortal danger was extremely high.

Yan Zhu’s gaze drifted to the other person’s hands. Even in deep slumber, she still tightly clenched her sword. The scabbard was lost somewhere unknown, but the blade was sharp, congealed with large patches of bright red blood.

She recalled the few wisps of light that had automatically repaired the abdominal wound just moments ago, her expression turning slightly solemn.

It seems this world is far more complex than what I currently see.

However, since she had already saved the person, she could only take things one step at a information-at-a-time.

The probability of the other person being a bad person was not high either. After all, how bad could a young girl really be?

Yan Zhu tilted her head back to look at the moonlight drilling through the crevice, thinking to herself.

Her thoughts drifted somewhat, inexplicably considering another possibility.

Speaking of which, it was quite coincidental. If the person lying there had been an adult male, she might not have necessarily saved him.

It just happened to be a girl, and a young girl at that.

Yan Zhu simply could not stand by and do nothing.

The “young girl who couldn’t possibly be that bad” was fast asleep at this moment, completely unaware of the psychological journey Yan Zhu had gone through before saving her.

Song Wenqing slept restlessly with furrowed brows, that event playing out over and over again within her dream.

A crowd whose faces she could not clearly see surrounded her, and familiar words echoed repeatedly in her ears, making her feel as though she had fallen into an endless abyss.

“Do you still want to argue? You were the only one present at the time. Furthermore, she personally testified that you were the one who did it.”

“Having someone like her in the Linyun Dao Sect is simply a disgrace, defiling the pristine reputation of the righteous path in the cultivation world.”

“Establishing her Foundation Establishment in half a month, achieving Golden Core at age sixteen, hailed as the supreme talent of the new generation of disciples, Song Wenqing, the renowned disciple of the Linyun Dao Sect’s Sect Master, turns out to be a demonic cultivator who murders her fellow disciples. Haha, what a grand joke!”

“I already disliked the sight of your self-righteous, smug look back then. Now, I actually want to ask you: what does it feel like to fall from the clouds?”

“Senior Brother already hates you to the core, Song Wenqing. So what if your talent is exceptional? His dao companion will only ever be me.”

“Senior Sister, I have never doubted you. Why would you treat me like this?”

“Song Wenqing… Junior Sister, you should go to the Hall of Penalties to confess your crimes!”

“Very well, I will go to the Hall of Penalties.”

Song Wenqing heard her own voice, and the surrounding clamor instantly grew silent.

“I believe the sect will return my innocence.”

Right?

What awaited her was clearly only,

Song Wenqing gasped for air as she struggled out of the suffocating sensation of drowning. Opening her eyes, she caught sight of a ray of moonlight shining obliquely upon her from the crevice, and her consciousness quickly sank back down.

“Song Wenqing, you carry the seed of a demon and have already degenerated into a demonic cultivator. Since you delivered yourself to our doorstep today, don’t even think about leaving.”

It wasn’t me. I am not a demonic cultivator.

The sect’s grand formation was activated for the first time three hundred years ago to kill a demonic cultivator at the Tribulation Transcendence stage. The second time the sect’s grand formation was activated was to kill her.

I am not a demonic cultivator. Why won’t you believe me?

That matter wasn’t my doing. Why force me to confess without any investigation?

Her Golden Core was forcibly dug out from her abdomen, causing Song Wenqing to nearly faint from the pain.

That person walked up to her, their face blurred within the dream, leaving only that warm smile lingering at the corners of their mouth to be seen.

A familiar voice rang in her ear, its tone as gentle as ever.

“Junior Sister, does it hurt?”

“It doesn’t matter. You will die in a moment, and once you are dead, it won’t hurt anymore.”

“It’s better if you die. For someone like you, once you die, everyone will feel happy.”

Once I die, everyone will feel happy

As long as I die, will everyone be happy?

It would be fine if I just died…

Why… did I do something wrong?

But,

I am not a demonic cultivator, nor have I ever actively harmed anyone.

On what grounds?

Could it be that just because I carry the seed of a demon, I deserve to die?!

A muffled groan was particularly piercing in the silent night. Startled, Yan Zhu snapped out of her stupor, instantly waking up from her drowsy state.

Realizing that she had just been dozing off, cold sweat instantly broke out across Yan Zhu’s back. She gripped the thick tree branch she had casually picked up from the ground and peered around vigilantly.

No danger for the moment.

Even so, lingering fear still refused to leave Yan Zhu’s heart. She looked back at the wounded patient sleeping on the stone bed, let out a soft sigh, and dutifully stood up to walk around a few steps, shaking her head in an effort to stay awake.

This was her little secret for pulling all-nighters to rush manuscripts without collapsing in class the next day.

However, writing novels could really get someone killed.

She just wondered how she was doing in the real world.

This body felt like hers, yet it also felt like it wasn’t.

Clearly, the positions of her moles were identical to her original body, but her skin was so good it hardly seemed human, and her strength was quite impressive.

Covering her mouth, Yan Zhu suppressed a small yawn as her thoughts wandered endlessly out of fatigue.

If it were a physical transmigration, her body back home should have disappeared, right?

If not, would she have become a vegetative state, or simply died outright?

No matter what, it would probably scare her roommates quite a bit.

Yan Zhu thought with a mischievous sense of humor.

In her original world, she didn’t have any close friends, and her parents had divorced long ago. The extent of their contact was limited to monthly living allowance transfer notifications.

The only thing she felt a bit regretful about, something she could call “attachment”, was the novel she still had in serialization.

It was the first story she had ever conceived, set in an immortal cultivation background. She had poured all her brushwork and exhausted her heart’s blood to create the grandest world she possibly could.

Perhaps because it was written well, the novel was picked up for serialization by the website shortly after its release. Its follows grew rapidly, and every day numerous little angel readers camped out for updates.

From then on, Yan Zhu’s life gained an extra share of joy. Her happiest moments were opening the comment section every day to see readers’ messages and discussions about the plot, feeling like a lone boat traveler encountering another voyager in the vast, boundless sea.

Yan Zhu had written the book Searching for Immortals for three whole months, accumulating a word count of five hundred thousand.

The image of the female protagonist, Song Wenqing, transformed from a few simple descriptive adjectives into a living, breathing person, slowly taking root in her heart.

Sometimes, Yan Zhu even felt as though Song Wenqing had seeped into her very soul.

A magnificent and grand story required sacrifice and misfortune. Behind blood and tears lay courage and hope; the darker the night, the brighter the light appeared. All of these elements served to complete it.

Therefore, right from the beginning, Yan Zhu had planted a hidden landmine for the heroine’s background. She intended to detonate it in the chapter right before the ending, pushing Song Wenqing toward her sacrifice, where the bursting flowers of blood would add dazzling colors to the tale.

That was the original plan.

However, in the process of writing, Song Wenqing slowly became the friend Yan Zhu hid within her own blood, and she began to find herself unable to bear it.

After much struggle, Yan Zhu stopped her pen and tore up the originally scheduled ending.

“You must remain pure and immaculate, untouched by frost and dust, and best of all, sit eternally high upon the platform.”

“To hell with depth and thematic meaning! What are those things anyway? Cliche? Then let it be cliche! I am going to write a cliche story.”

Song Wenqing had been orphaned at a young age, accidentally discovered and brought into the sect by the Sect Master who had gone down the mountain to undergo mortal tribulations. She possessed extremely high innate talent, a gentle and agreeable disposition, and was adored by all the disciples…

This was the opening chapter she had written with her own hands, and she would definitely grant her a good ending.

“Song Wenqing” Yan Zhu murmured softly.

“If it were you… encountering this situation, what would you do?”

She was asking the only friend she had unilaterally designated.

The surroundings were quiet; a breeze quietly brushed past the tree tips, with no one to answer.

The eyelashes of the person on the stone bed fluttered, and her breathing grew slightly heavier.

“Song Wenqing…”

The sudden call pulled Song Wenqing out of the endless dream, and the suffocating pressure clamped around her neck finally faded away.

The darkness was torn open, and the figures of sword-wielding people around her cracked inch by inch like mirrors.

Song Wenqing raised her head and “saw” that figure gradually approaching her.

“Don’t be afraid… You must hold on, I will save you…”

I will save you.

The darkness was completely peeled away, and the surroundings grew brilliantly bright.

Save me?

Why… save me?

Song Wenqing tried hard to open her eyes, wanting to see the appearance of the newcomer, but she could only make out her outline outlined by the faint moonlight.

You, who are you?