How Could I Resist His Madness and Charm [Transmigration] - Chapter 8

The sun was blazing as Luo Yan, having deceived her grandmother, followed Zhu Yun to the eastern side of the village.

The mountain slope wasn’t particularly steep, but the path was primitive, with only one or two trails trodden by previous travelers hidden among the wildly overgrown branches and leaves.

While watching her step, Luo Yan asked, “Why did you come to Qingyuan Village?”

“Same as you.”

Her left foot nearly tripped over her right at his reply, and her voice trembled slightly. “You know about my situation?”

She’d always thought Zhu Yun’s face didn’t belong to a mere extra, could he be a loyal sidekick sent by the protagonist to investigate, or a secret informant planted by the emperor in the Luo family…

But Luo Yan had a decent memory; she wouldn’t have forgotten any character with even a few lines. Who had she overlooked?

The more she pondered, the more frightened she grew, her chestnut-colored pupils quivering faintly.

Zhu Yun strode ahead, brushing aside the obstructing branches, and said irritably, “Same as you, picking a place to lay low, that’s all.”

So, it was just her overactive imagination. Luo Yan forced a dry laugh. “Oh, I see.”

Then he abruptly changed the subject. “I’m not interested in your family’s downfall or how you and your old servant pretended to be grandmother and granddaughter to flee to Linchuan.”

“?”

Wasn’t that knowing everything clearly?

Zhu Yun snorted coldly. “I have eyes.”

Implying he’d figured it all out through observation.

Luo Yan’s emotions felt like they’d just ridden a roller coaster, taking a long moment to settle. Tentatively, she asked, “Is Zhu Yun your real name?”

“Yes.”

The leader of the Western Mountain Divine Sect had the surname Zhu. After its collapse, his daughter Zhu Jing changed her name to Meng Jing and founded the Moon-Embracing Pavilion.

Perhaps they’d made him the sect’s successor, hence choosing Zhu over Meng, while the character “Yun” was given by his birth parents.

Reassured by his confirmation, Luo Yan set aside her annoyance at his earlier evasiveness and seized the chance to inquire, “Will you leave once the heat dies down?”

Zhu Yun glanced at her. “You want me to go.”

“Of course not!” Afraid he wouldn’t believe her, Luo Yan’s tone became unusually enthusiastic. “I can play games with you, and Grandmother’s cooking is delicious too.”

He deliberately furrowed his brow. “That’s it?”

“Not enough?” Luo Yan frowned, counting on her fingers. “No exposure to wind and sun, no hunger, plus family and playmates.”

These were clearly what she herself desired.

But Zhu Yun cooperatively replied, “Mm, it’s enough.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Stay peacefully. I’ll share all the good food and fun with you.”

By then, they had reached the mountainside.

Luo Yan, exhausted, gradually fell from leading the way to walking side by side, and eventually ended up clutching Zhu Yun’s arm as he dragged her along.

But since she’d insisted on coming, she was too embarrassed to complain about being tired and said tactfully, “Don’t you think the sunset looks especially beautiful from here?”

Zhu Yun remained unmoved. “No.”

“Ten minutes,” she insisted, holding him back. “How do you say it in your terms, the time it takes to drink a cup of tea? Just watch it with me.”

The sunset glow stretched for miles like still candle flames, gilding the mountain ranges with a golden edge.

Luo Yan had ridden on private jets a few times and wasn’t unfamiliar with such scenery. More curious about Zhu Yun, she couldn’t help asking, “Aren’t you tired? You’re not even sweating.”

“You’re just too weak.”

“……”

Not wanting to delay him further, she glanced back at the path they’d taken, not too steep, and thought she might as well descend alone.

But Zhu Yun suddenly crouched halfway down. “Get on.”

The young man had a slender build, but his explosive strength was astonishing. Carrying Luo Yan on his back, he lightly stepped on the rocks and soared, at least, in her eyes, it felt like flying.

He paid no attention to small paths or shortcuts, taking any route available. If there was no path, he simply climbed the trees.

Her vision was filled with the blur of leaves, making her stomach churn. She had no choice but to bury her face in Zhu Yun’s neck, her arms tightly wrapped around him.

He landed swiftly, his face slightly pale from Luo Yan’s choking grip.

“We’re here,” Zhu Yun said, prying her hands away. But her limbs were weak, and she couldn’t stand steadily. Seemingly having never encountered someone so frail, he was slightly taken aback. “What’s wrong with you?”

Luo Yan replied dejectedly, “I just remembered, I get motion sickness from 3D.”

Zhu Yun froze for a moment, then, understanding, turned his face away, his shoulders trembling slightly.

Luo Yan, still leaning against him, asked, “?”

But regardless, they had finally reached the mountaintop. Zhu Yun found a rock for her to sit on and drew a line a few steps away, saying, “Try not to cross this.”

Luo Yan valued her life and nodded obediently.

Apart from the peak, the rest of the area was flat and open. She was about to praise Zhu Yun for his choice of location when she noticed the neatly broken branches and the smoothed surfaces of the rocks. It seemed he often came here to practice his swordsmanship, clearing the area day after day.

How diligent.

The half-person-tall longsword was remarkably obedient in Zhu Yun’s hands. As he swung it, the sword’s energy swept through the air, sending fallen leaves swirling wildly. Her hair and skirt were also caught in the pull, as if cheering him on.

While marveling at the sight, she suddenly realized: in a martial world where strength reigns supreme, the author had designed her original character as fragile, all to evoke the male lead’s protective instincts.

But in her previous life, Luo Yan had already been protected far too much and for far too long. Even something as bizarre as transmigration had happened to her, yet she still couldn’t escape a similar fate?

Zhu Yun, focused on reviewing his sword forms, heard raindrops pattering on the leaves. He sheathed his sword and stood still, palm upturned, but no raindrops fell.

Suddenly struck by a thought, he turned his head and saw Luo Yan’s eyes widen in panic before she raised her sleeve to cover her face.

Zhu Yun, relying on his strength, gently pushed her hand aside and scanned her face. Aside from her damp eyelashes, there was no sign that she had been crying.

Luo Yan broke free, embarrassed. “I was just thinking about the past.”

He was drenched in sweat and sat down beside her, bracing his hands against the rock to catch his breath. Though he didn’t say it outright, his posture clearly indicated he was willing to listen.

“A-Yun, what about your parents?”

“I don’t know.”

Luo Yan was curious. “Don’t you ever yearn for familial affection?”

“No,” he replied bluntly.

Disciples in the training hall were not allowed to leave until they reached the third rank, so they had no way of knowing that things like “parents” even existed.

As for him, though he called Meng Jing his mother, he saw it merely as a label. It wasn’t until he entered the world at age eight that he began to form a vague understanding of the concept.

Seeing that his expression didn’t seem forced, Luo Yan felt a twinge of envy and said softly, “When I was very young, my family was a model family.”

Later, she fell ill and moved into a princess-themed hospital room. Her parents visited less and less frequently, and the look in their eyes gradually shifted from pity to exhaustion.

Only she clung to the memory of the four of them, happy and harmonious. Every day, she would wake up and wait, hope, and ask.

As she grew older, Luo Yan came to understand that everyone has their own world. Her world was confined to a single room, while her parents’ world was vast and busy.

She couldn’t keep others by her side forever.

Zhu Yun found it hard to empathize and only asked, “Do you have an older brother?”

“Um.” She hesitated for a moment. Although her original self had no blood-related older brother, the Luo family was now a thing of the past, so she nodded. “My brother went far away to study and can only occasionally call… write to me.”

Her brother, too, hardly ever saw their parents throughout the year, but he had friends, studies, and even a lover.

Thinking of this, Luo Yan’s eyes suddenly brightened, and she said with a hint of shyness, “Now that I have you and Grandmother with me, I don’t really remember the past clearly, and it doesn’t matter much anyway.”

Easily consoling herself, she shifted her attention to other matters: “Can I learn martial arts from you?”

Zhu Yun took her hand, feeling from her wrist bone up to her shoulder, and replied honestly, “For you, the drawbacks outweigh the benefits.”

“That tickles,” she said with a laugh, pulling her hand back. “Then forget it. I’ll just laze around until I’m fifteen.”

After accompanying the young man in his practice until it was completely dark, they headed back. Zhuo Yun carried her effortlessly down the mountain.

Luo Yan couldn’t hide her surprise. “You can see the path clearly even without a lantern?”

“Mm.”

“Then what are you best at? Swordsmanship or qinggong?”

Zhu Yun was momentarily at a loss. In his heart, he thought: whatever he was taught, he learned; whatever he learned, he mastered. The sword had been casually snatched, not because he was particularly skilled with it.

As if she had anticipated this, she pouted before he could answer, “From now on, I’ll call you ‘Don’t Know.’”

“Oh,” Zhu Yun retorted, “then I’ll call you ‘Wishful Thinking.’”

“…”

Bickering, the two returned home. The lanterns outside the courtyard were already lit, and the dining table in the yard was steaming.

Jia Yufang was mending old clothes nearby. When she saw them, she immediately set down her small basket and said cheerfully, “Qinglian was just here and brought quite a few pancakes. She said her older sister wants to study as well.”

Luo Yan was pleasantly surprised. She picked up a piece to taste and said, “It’s delicious.”

“Qinglian’s grandmother is famous in the village for her cooking,” Jia Yufang said with a smile. “I learned a few of my signature dishes from her.”

Curious, Luo Yan asked, “How many people are in their family?”

“Six.”

Qinglian’s grandmother had already passed away, and her grandfather was unable to walk. Next were her father and mother, followed by her eldest sister, Qingping, and her second sister, Qingcao.

Every family hoped for a son. Qinglian’s mother couldn’t bear one, and her father felt humiliated, so he started drinking heavily, pushing their already struggling family into poverty.

Jia Yufang sighed. “Cui Niang’s sister knows a few characters and was hired by Mrs. Sheng to be the household steward. At least she doesn’t have to worry about food and clothing.”

“The Sheng family who buys your embroidery patterns?”

“That’s right.”

The Luo family, first, had ties to the imperial family, and second, possessed immense wealth. Their servants were more knowledgeable than the masters of ordinary households.

Thus, Jia Yufang’s embroidery patterns were particularly popular in Hanmei Town. But it was Qinglian’s aunt who had acted as the intermediary, ensuring her old friend had a steady business while also bringing honor to her own mistress.

After hearing this, Luo Yan felt a mix of emotions and sighed with a maturity beyond her years.

Zhu Yun flicked her forehead with his finger. Seeing her snap out of it in pain, he teased, “If you love listening to stories so much, why not go to a teahouse and be a claqueur?”

“What’s that?”

He explained that teahouses, taverns, or storytellers would hire claqueurs to cheer and create momentum, attracting more customers.

Luo Yan giggled after hearing this. “I could actually do that job.”

Jia Yufang laughed along as she bit off the thread and held up the mended robe to compare it against Zhu Yun. “I think the fabric of this one is good. It’d be a shame to throw it away.”

Zhu Yun took it and saw that a cluster of green bamboo had been embroidered over the torn area, matching the pattern on Luo Yan’s sleeve. After a moment of silence, he said awkwardly, “Thank you.”

“As long as you’re satisfied,” Jia Yufang replied, putting down her sewing basket to clear the dishes, stubbornly refusing to let Luo Yan lift a finger.

Luo Yan stuck to her like glue, chattering away with questions about the village.

Hearing the laughter between the grandmother and granddaughter, Zhu Yun curled his lips into a faint smile, thinking to himself: Since he had nowhere else to go, staying in Qingyuan Village wasn’t so bad after all.