Guide to the Rebirth of the Evil Woman in the Immortal Realm - Chapter 23

The past was like a spark, flashing along the edges of memory before vanishing.

Ji Ting stared at Shen Fuxin for a long time, her fingertips unconsciously twirling a strand of the girl’s hair. This time, she did not return to the bathtub. Instead, she pulled up a chair and leaned against the couch, sleeping by Shen Fuxin’s side until the first faint light of dawn appeared.

The bell of the Sword Terrace rang. Ji Ting looked up at Shen Fuxin, who was still deep in meditation for her breakthrough, and sighed resignedly once more.

She stood to open the door and caught sight of a familiar figure heading down the mountain with a sword on her back. Ji Ting waved her over. “That Junior Sister—yes, you. Carry a message down for Xiao Fu. She is breaking through her realm and cannot make it to your morning lessons.”

Seeing it was Ji Ting, Li Jiantai trotted over in a few small steps. Hearing Senior Sister Shen’s name, she blinked. “Senior Sister Shen is breaking through again?”

Ji Ting looked down at her. The girl’s bird-like, lively eyes blinked a few times as if she had realized something. She looked up at Ji Ting excitedly. “I will inform the Hongjing Immortal right away so the Immortal can come see Senior Sister Shen!”

“Wait…” Ji Ting arched an eyebrow, grabbing the Junior Sister back just as she was about to bolt down the mountain. “Your Hongjing Immortal isn’t a lightning bolt; her arrival won’t suddenly shock your Senior Sister awake. Tell her not to come.”

Li Jiantai was a bit confused, but having been yanked back, she obediently stopped. She glanced at the half-closed Green Chamber, then at the jade-clad Immortal Envoy before her. She asked hesitantly, “But if Senior Sister’s cultivation improves, she won’t be punished anymore, right?”

Punished? Ji Ting fell silent for a moment before asking, “Is Shen Fuxin punished often?”

“She was given seventy-two lashes by the Hongjing Immortal just the other day,” Li Jiantai said. “The day before you arrived.”

The ringing of the Sword Terrace bell was reaching its end. Hearing those words, Ji Ting released her grip. “Go on then.”

Li Jiantai gave an affirmative shout and hurried off to her morning lessons. Ji Ting paced slowly back into the Green Chamber. Shen Fuxin remained asleep. Ji Ting leaned against the couch and closed her eyes to rest. Smelling the lotus fragrance in the room, she actually fell into a deep sleep.

It wasn’t until she heard the footsteps of students climbing back up to the chambers that Ji Ting woke up. Without even needing to try, she sensed Zhao Lanying approaching, followed by that perpetually “peacocking” Yu Zhanxu.

Ji Ting had no intention of standing to greet them. She simply sat by Shen Fuxin’s couch, resting her chin on her hand and waiting. Sure enough, after a few breaths, a slender, beautiful white hand pushed open the door, and someone stepped inside.

Zhao Lanying had never been to Shen Fuxin’s Green Chamber.

She lowered her eyes, not glancing around, but walking toward the couch with her usual elegant coldness. Since the only chair was firmly occupied by Ji Ting, Zhao Lanying stood in the small room, looking uncharacteristically out of place under Ji Ting’s silent exclusion.

Soon after, Yu Zhanxu stroded in with her sword.

She was quite familiar with this place, having broken the door several times before. However, in the past, she had always entered with barbs and insults prepared; entering so formally felt somewhat awkward.

Yu Zhanxu saw that Zhao Lanying had beaten her to the bedside. The small space before the couch was now completely occupied by Ji Ting and Zhao Lanying. She tried to push her way in to take a look, but Ji Ting chose that exact moment to stretch her arms wide in a yawn. When she tried to squeeze in from the other side, Zhao Lanying subtly shifted her body, blocking her path.

Yu Zhanxu, already harboring a belly full of frustration, sneered. “Has the Immortal not finished writing her invitations yet? What are you doing standing here?”

Zhao Lanying’s voice was flat. “I finished them all last night. Today I received a reply. Your Master, the Master of Xuanyuan Terrace, is also coming to witness the covenant ceremony between Shen Fuxin and me.”

Ji Ting popped a plum candy into her mouth, enjoying the war of words while she chewed.

In the next moment, however, Zhao Lanying leaned down, her fingertips lightly touching the back of Shen Fuxin’s hand resting on the edge of the bed.

Yu Zhanxu’s brow furrowed, a wave of unspeakable nausea nearly rising from her stomach. Just as she was about to draw her sword, she saw Ji Ting’s finger move.

A shimmering, beautiful candy wrapper sliced toward Zhao Lanying’s fingers, as sharp as a sword and as fast as lightning. Even Yu Zhanxu, who was reaching for her sword, sensed the sheer lethality of the strike. The wind generated by the wrapper was almost visible. Ji Ting hadn’t used a shred of spiritual power; she had simply flicked her finger with nonchalance.

From a foot away, Yu Zhanxu’s sleeve was shredded. The killing intent reached her skin, and a thin line of blood quietly appeared beneath the fabric!

Ignoring her own injury, she hurried to look at Zhao Lanying.

In a mere instant, Zhao Lanying’s protective barrier had already deployed. She raised her eyes, looking seriously for the first time at this Immortal Envoy who had been deemed insignificant. Her fingertips glowed with pure, clear sword intent as she slashed back at the incoming wrapper without blinking.

As the jade-like sword intent collided with the glittering glass-paper wrapper, Ji Ting curled her lips into a smile.

In that very moment, Zhao Lanying’s protective barrier shattered.

The thin, pitiful candy wrapper sliced through Zhao Lanying’s sword intent as if it were nothing. In the blink of an eye, the paper grazed her fingertips. She could barely feel the pain in her fingers because, the moment the paper passed, Zhao Lanying instinctively covered her neck.

She looked at her palm; it was flowing with blood.

Seeing that Zhao Lanying’s fingers and neck had been nicked by a piece of paper, Yu Zhanxu briefly forgot that she had been cut by Ji Ting in the same way yesterday and became suddenly gleeful.

What a glorious day!

Zhao Lanying slowly straightened up, bright red blood dripping from her fingertips onto the floor.

She looked at the girl lying on the couch, yet she did not summon her natal sword. Wiping away the blood, she seemed entirely incapable of feeling pain. She asked calmly, “Why did you attack me?”

Ji Ting was busy summoning the candy wrapper back. Hearing the question, she looked up and smiled at Zhao Lanying. “My master dislikes others approaching her without permission. What a pity, I wasted a good candy wrapper.”

Hearing this, Zhao Lanying’s restless sword intent was withdrawn back into her body.

Shen Fuxin dislikes others approaching her, so the Envoy acted. Zhao Lanying accepted the logic of this explanation.

She turned her head to look at Shen Fuxin and noticed several candy wrappers by her pillow. These scraps of paper were identical to the one in Ji Ting’s hand, though the colors were different. They appeared to have been carefully washed, flattened, and collected.

Shen Fuxin likes candy wrappers.

Shen Fuxin likes lotuses.

Water-colored energy gathered in Zhao Lanying’s palm, forming the shape of a lotus. She placed the flower on the small table by the couch and turned to leave.

…So that was where the daily lotuses came from.

Yu Zhanxu watched this scene in utter disbelief. Zhao Lanying was either mad or possessed; she had been struck yet walked out with such calm tolerance. But then Yu Zhanxu reconsidered—perhaps Zhao Lanying was simply nursing a grudge, maintaining a peaceful exterior while sharpening her blades in secret?

While she stood there dazed, she was swept out the door by the now-standing Ji Ting. “My master also dislikes others staring at her.”

The door slammed shut once more in Yu Zhanxu’s face. She had lost count of how many times she had been shut out lately.

Strangely, she was starting to get used to it.

Ji Ting sat by Shen Fuxin’s couch, drifting in and out of sleep. Days turned into weeks as the sun and moon rose and fell. Several dozen days passed, yet Shen Fuxin did not wake. It was unclear what resistance she was mounting against that stubborn Thunder Pill, but her breakthrough tribulation had lasted a remarkably long time.

Zhao Lanying came occasionally, while Yu Zhanxu came every single day.

Aside from that first time she approached, Zhao Lanying stood far back by the door during every visit, holding the wedding robes as she watched Shen Fuxin. She never spoke to Ji Ting, only looking between the robes and the girl, as if wondering if the garment would fit.

Unlike Zhao Lanying, Yu Zhanxu looked like she had a chest full of words to say every day. But with Ji Ting there, she was unwilling to let her hear, so she always kept her mouth shut, looking like she was nursing a silent sulk.

The day Shen Fuxin finally woke was a day of continuous, drizzling rain.

Listening to the pitter-patter of rain outside, she woke from a sticky, heavy dream. When she opened her eyes, she saw Ji Ting sleeping soundly, slumped against the edge of her couch.

She pressed her hand to her forehead, feeling as if she had slept far too long. But she couldn’t be blamed; that Thunder Pill had been incredibly difficult to absorb. She had fallen into the same dream repeatedly; though she was asleep, she felt exhausted, lacking even the strength to confirm her new cultivation level.

She sat up. “Xiao Ting, what month and day is it?”

Ji Ting let out a yawn, sounding weary. “The fourth day of the sixth month. You woke up just in time.”

She flicked her finger, and the window swung open, revealing the red flowers and celebratory silk balls draped all over the Azure Emperor’s Spirit Mountain. “These are to celebrate your upcoming covenant with that immortal or whoever.”

The familiar red stung Shen Fuxin’s eyes. As she looked down, a fair white fist was extended toward her, then slowly opened.

It was a stack of clean, glass-paper candy wrappers.

Ji Ting’s beautiful peach-blossom eyes curved. She said warmly, “This is to celebrate your advancement to the third level of the Dust-Shedding Realm.”

Shen Fuxin tapped Ji Ting’s other clenched fist, and sure enough, it contained a plum candy.

She popped the candy into her mouth, and the sweet and sour flavor instantly cleared her head. She sat cross-legged to sense her current cultivation; she had indeed jumped from the first level to the third level of the Dust-Shedding Realm, skipping a minor stage entirely.

That Thunder Pill was so potent, no wonder she had slept for three months.

Shen Fuxin rolled out of bed. Seeing Ji Ting still staring dazed at the wedding decorations on the mountain, she asked, “If I hadn’t woken up, would the date of Zhao Lanying’s ceremony have been pushed back?”

“No,” Ji Ting said. “If you hadn’t woken by tomorrow, she would have picked you up and carried you into the bridal sedan herself.”

Shen Fuxin pondered for a moment and said, “Tomorrow I will use an illusion to create a duplicate of myself. I’ll let the duplicate board the sedan in my place to buy us some time. We will take that opportunity to escape to the mortal realm.”

Ji Ting laughed at this. She picked up the newly appeared lotus from the table, plucked a petal, and cast an immortal seal upon it.

The moment the spiritual light touched it, the petal floated up and transformed into Shen Fuxin’s likeness. A puppet created from a lotus petal was clearly more realistic than a simple illusion. Shen Fuxin reached out and pinched its cheek; it was even warm to the touch.

Shen Fuxin asked in surprise, “You know puppet arts like this?”

Ji Ting crossed her arms and tilted her chin up slightly, her face practically begging for a compliment. “Mm-hmm.”

The puppet, having had its cheek pinched, covered its face and its eyes immediately filled with tears, looking like a bullied, aggrieved child. Seeing the puppet make that expression with her own face sent a shiver of disgust down Shen Fuxin’s spine.

She stepped behind the puppet, raised its right hand, and waved it through the air. “Not realistic enough. If anyone tries to get touchy-careless with you, you do this—slap—give them a loud earful.”

The puppet looked confused but leaned affectionately against Shen Fuxin’s cheek.

Ji Ting couldn’t watch anymore. She reached out to pull it away and tapped it on the forehead. Soon, the puppet’s expression shifted from naive innocence to the cold, expressionless look Shen Fuxin usually wore when looking at people.

Ji Ting stuffed the puppet into the large wooden wardrobe in the corner of the room and shut the door. The puppet stood silently, observing and learning Shen Fuxin’s every move through the thin crack in the door.

The wind and rain outside began to clear. Just as they finished settling the puppet, a knock sounded at the door.

Without looking up, Ji Ting spoke with a hint of sarcasm. “Your Senior Sister Yu is here. She’s been here every day for three months.”

As dusk approached, Shen Fuxin opened the door to find Yu Zhanxu standing at the entrance of the Green Chamber, holding a red paper umbrella.

Seeing Shen Fuxin open the door, the Crown Princess’s arrogant and prideful demeanor shattered instantly. She closed her umbrella and stood with half her body in the rain, looking like a beautiful Persian cat seeking shelter in Shen Fuxin’s room.

She looked as though she were making a supreme sacrifice, her voice bordering on a plea. “Fuxin, let us elope.”