Guide to the Rebirth of the Evil Woman in the Immortal Realm - Chapter 9

As dusk deepened, spiritual flames flickered to life within several blue-roofed chambers atop the mountain peak. Shen Fuxin cycled her energy to review her cultivation techniques. When she reopened her eyes, she found Ji Ting still seated on the bed, meticulously plucking feathers from a messenger bluebird cupped in her palms.

The bird trembled helplessly, its eyes glazed with stupor, yet it dared not make a sound.

Shen Fuxin glanced at the iridescent pile of feathers by the bedside, then at the thoroughly plucked bird, growing more convinced of the charlatan’s insanity. “It’s hideous. Throw it out now.”

Ji Ting hummed in acknowledgment, casually pushed open the window, and tossed the bird outside. Restless by nature, she seemed curious about everything. Noting Shen Fuxin’s meditative posture, she propped her chin in her hands and asked, “Earlier, when we came up, you called that person who stopped us ‘Senior Sister.’ Xiao Fu, are you a sword immortal?”

“No,” Shen Fuxin frowned. “Don’t call me Xiao Fu.”

Ji Ting studied her from head to toe and nodded in agreement. “You carry the scent of purple smoke from a cauldron, not the sharp aura of blades. Indeed, you don’t seem like a sword immortal.”

At these words, Shen Fuxin’s breath hitched.

No one in the immortal realm had practiced cauldron arts for thirty thousand years, how could Ji Ting detect the scent of furnace smoke?

Suddenly, Shen Fuxin felt she had brought back a troublesome enigma. This charlatan might be older than her own grandmother. What did that mean? If she offended her, Ji Ting could easily chastise her inwardly for disrespecting elders.

The thought sent a chill down Shen Fuxin’s spine. She stood up, feigning nonchalance. “Have you smelled cauldron smoke before?”

“Perhaps not,” Ji Ting replied. “It all smells like burning firewood anyway. I was just guessing.”

Shen Fuxin shot her a sharp glare, but Ji Ting remained unfazed, looking up at her with wide eyes from the bed. “Are the two of us sleeping here together tonight?”

“Get lost,” Shen Fuxin retorted.

Ji Ting clung tightly to the quilt, her voice softening. “Don’t be like that, Xiao Fu.”

It wasn’t until Shen Fuxin unleashed her sword energy, aiming to strike her down, that Ji Ting reluctantly sat up on the bed, still fully dressed. Her hair, already loosened, cascaded over her shoulders, and she wore only a thin robe, looking utterly pitiful.

Ji Ting scanned the room, her voice full of grievance. “Where do you expect me to sleep tonight? The floor is icy cold, and there’s not even a door. What will people think if they pass by? You took three thousand spirit stones from me this isn’t right.”

Shen Fuxin was busy circulating her energy to inspect the sword core she had acquired that day. Ji Ting’s incessant pacing and complaining grated on her nerves, so she randomly pointed to the bathtub in the corner. “Sleep in the tub.”

She expected Ji Ting to protest, but to her surprise, Ji Ting eyed the half-person-high tub, climbed in, curled up, and closed her eyes to rest. Her ease suggested a familiarity with confining spaces.

Once silence fell from the tub, Shen Fuxin returned to the disheveled bed, closed her eyes, and began circulating the sword core within her.

Having used her sword energy multiple times that day, the core had grown denser since morning. With repeated practice, her sword strikes had quickened. Yet, an unshakable intuition whispered to her: she needed to refine more within the cauldron. Today, it had yielded sword intent that obeyed her will without drawing a blade. Next time, the core might forge something entirely unexpected.

But today, she had failed to purchase an alchemy cauldron. Even with the three thousand spirit stones she had squeezed out of Ji Ting, it was far from enough for Shen Fuxin to afford one.

Speaking of alchemy cauldrons, there were two readily available at the Sword Platform.

A small flame of an idea flickered in her heart, and it wasn’t until she heard Ji Ting’s even, calm breathing from the bathtub that Shen Fuxin’s wandering thoughts finally settled.

Judging by how long Yu Zhanxu had waited outside the barrier today, the chaos she had stirred between them seemed to be showing initial results. The question was, just how far would the Crown Prince go for her? And how long could Zhao Lanying hold her ground?

Tomorrow, she would have to request leave from Zhao Lanying to return home. Her family had plenty of treasures, and this time, she was determined to strip the Immortal Abode bare.

Shen Fuxin sat on the couch in her day clothes, and in the final moment before emptying her mind to rest, an amusing question suddenly surfaced.

If she asked Yu Zhanxu to help her steal an alchemy cauldron, would she agree?

–

That night, separated from Shen Fuxin by several walls, Yu Zhanxu tossed and turned, unable to sleep for a long time. The moment she closed her eyes, the faces of Shen Fuxin and that so-called Xiao Ting repeatedly surfaced in her mind.

At the same time, Zhao Lanying was also awake. A massive Yin-Yang fish drifted silently around the ritual platform, gently moving its fins. Standing in the shadow cast by the school of fish, she lowered her gaze and lightly brushed the lotus ring on her ring finger.

No lotus had ever been as beautiful as the ones six hundred years ago. That was the first time Zhao Lanying had ever seen lotuses endless, like clouds stretching to the horizon, illuminating her delicate yet lifeless face.

And lotus seeds. Standing alone in the moonlight, shrouded by the shadows of the fish and the mountains, Zhao Lanying retrieved a smooth lotus seed from her sleeve. She gazed at it under the moonlight for a few moments before quickly tucking it back into her sleeve.

The moon was still the same moon from back then, but the immortal bathed in its light faintly sensed that something had begun to slip beyond her control, growing increasingly unmanageable. Her vacant eyes shifted slightly as she glanced up at the school of fish floating overhead, then she sat back down on the ritual platform.

If only those eyes could always be on me whether in pain, hatred, resentment, or love, just keep looking at me.

Fuxin.

–

The next day, before the Sword Platform’s bell had even tolled, Shen Fuxin hauled Ji Ting out of the bathtub where she had been sleeping.

The tub wasn’t particularly large even Shen Fuxin found it a bit cramped, let alone the long-limbed Ji Ting. But as Ji Ting stood up yawning, having curled up in the tub all night, she looked radiant, as if she had never slept so soundly before.

Ji Ting, still bleary-eyed, wanted to go back to sleep. “What are you doing?”

Shen Fuxin straightened her robes and motioned for Ji Ting to follow. “Requesting leave. Going home. You’re coming with me.”

Ji Ting had no objections. That so-called Immortal Abode sounded quite spacious, with more than one room and bed certainly better than having to sleep in a bathtub again. Stretching lazily, she followed Shen Fuxin to the Sword Platform. Noticing the group of young immortals staring at her, Ji Ting didn’t avoid their gazes but instead tucked her hands into her sleeves and stared right back.

Then, an unfriendly gaze landed on her, and Ji Ting responded with a lazy smile. Out of Shen Fuxin’s sight, she raised her left hand and lightly touched the hair at her left temple.

The moment her fingertip brushed against her hair, Yu Zhanxu, who had been coldly watching from a distance, suddenly felt a chill.

Before she could process what had happened, half of a red flower drifted gently into Ji Ting’s hand.

A moment later, Shen Fuxin heard the sound of a sword being drawn. Turning around, she saw Ji Ting swiftly retreat behind her again, as if grievously wronged: “Master, your senior sister has gone mad.”

Yu Zhanxu’s gaze was as cold as ice: “Shen Fuxin, do you believe her or me?”

Shen Fuxin didn’t want to believe either of them, she trusted only herself. Just then, a tall figure approached from behind her, and Zhao Lanying’s voice sounded at her back: “Who is this?”

“My hired immortal attendant,” Shen Fuxin replied. “Master, I need to return home for a while. There’s a joyous occasion in my family, and my father would like to invite you to witness the ceremony.”

Hearing Shen Fuxin shamelessly bring up her family affairs, the surrounding student immortals couldn’t help but feel disdain.

Zhao Lanying’s moon-like face showed no emotion whatsoever. She stared fixedly at Ji Ting for a few moments. Ji Ting blinked, about to repeat her earlier tactic: “Master, your master, how?”

“How many days will you be gone?” Zhao Lanying avoided the topic of her adoptive father, implicitly refusing the invitation. “Will you return?”

Shen Fuxin was surprised by her uncharacteristic compliance. Noticing Yu Zhanxu watching them, she feigned hesitation: “One day and one night. Master, do you wish for me to return or not?”

Zhao Lanying turned her face away and opened the mountain barrier for her: “Only one day and one night.”

Even after stepping beyond the barrier of Qingdi Ling Mountain, Shen Fuxin still felt a sense of unreality.

Meanwhile, Ji Ting, holding the half peony petal she had sliced from Yu Zhanxu’s temple, fanned the flames: “Your senior sister seems to have feelings for you, and your master doesn’t seem like a virtuous character either. So, what exactly are you thinking?”

Shen Fuxin said, “Three months from now, on the fifth day of the sixth month, is the day of my bonding ceremony with my master.”

Ji Ting laughed recklessly: “Then what about your senior sister?”

In her previous life, Yu Zhanxu had dared to disrupt the banquet. Shen Fuxin wondered if, with foreknowledge this time, she would dare to snatch the bride.

“Leave it to fate,” Shen Fuxin also smiled. “Whatever happens next has nothing to do with me.”

“I, however, believe that human effort shapes destiny.”

Ji Ting tossed away the half-blossom, watching it fall into the endless stretch of green mountains: “There has never been such a thing as fate in this world.”