My Demon Lord Junior Sister Is Pretending to Be Good to Seduce Me - Chapter 10

A sword wind scraped past Lin Yumo’s ear, instantly sobering her up.

She flinched and stood up, every hair on her body standing on end. She reached for the sword at her waist, but grasped nothing.

She had forgotten she’d lent the Kunwu Sword out.

She looked up at Mu Xuewei and got goosebumps all over. That fleeting sword wind just now felt very much like the aura given off by the Demonic Sword Weiyang in her past life. Though it lacked demonic qi, she clearly remembered the feeling of that malice.

Was it her delusion? She sized up Mu Xuewei, becoming wary.

Taking advantage of Mu Xuewei’s young age, she shouldn’t yet understand the Demon Race. Perhaps I should test her.

She soared into the air, charging toward Mu Xuewei empty-handed.

Mu Xuewei subtly raised her sword to parry, appearing somewhat overwhelmed.

Lin Yumo forcefully grabbed the wrist holding the sword, and a chilling, frost-like power brutally surged into Mu Xuewei’s meridians, all the way to her Dantian.

Lin Yumo used her free hand to strike Mu Xuewei right between the collarbones.

She knew that the peach wood sword Mu Xuewei wore around her neck was the Demonic Sword Weiyang, and she intended to use the sword’s reaction to determine if Mu Xuewei was truly cultivating the demonic path.

Mu Xuewei seemed unable to withstand the blow, staggering back two steps, a trace of blood seeping from the corner of her mouth.

“Junior Sister! Stop!” Li Shuangxing called out.

The cold energy that had penetrated Mu Xuewei’s meridians circulated and then dissipated within her body.

Lin Yumo withdrew her hand and finally breathed a sigh of relief. Indeed, there was no sign of her Demonic Meridian awakening. Perhaps the surge of sword qi just now had been her own misperception.

She cleared her throat, gently wiped the blood from the corner of Mu Xuewei’s mouth, and lowered her head, two strands of hair falling with her motion. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you alright?” she asked.

Mu Xuewei pressed Lin Yumo’s hand against her mouth and whispered, “Not so good. It’s very cold.”

It was true that the Emotionless Dao cultivated by Lin Yumo was inherently extremely cold, but she had suppressed the cold energy as much as possible just now. The trace amount that entered Mu Xuewei’s body should have been negligible; she shouldn’t have felt much.

“Then… how about some wine to warm you up?” Although she regretted the words as soon as she said them, alcohol truly could dispel coldness.

Li Shuangxing lowered his sword. “She’s too young…”

“I can!” Mu Xuewei quickly replied, clearly afraid that Li Shuangxing would interrupt and divert the conversation.

Lin Yumo stood there, unmoving.

“Senior Sister, aren’t you going to get the wine?” Mu Xuewei tilted her head, looking rather adorable.

“You…” Lin Yumo met the grey pupils with her eyes, then nervously dropped her gaze. “You let go of my hand first…”

Mu Xuewei smiled sweetly, released her hand, and put both hands behind her back, lowering her head to conceal the trace of a triumphant smile at the corner of her mouth.

Her fingernail lightly grazed the pattern on the Kunwu Sword repeatedly. Her black hair swayed in the breeze. She lifted her eyelids, watching Lin Yumo bend down under the pear blossom tree to dig up the wine.

At this moment, the bamboo shadows of the sixth month swayed, and the maiden’s heart held a fragrance.

Li Shuangxing stood awkwardly in place, unsure how to hold the sword in his hand. His emotions were slightly complicated. He looked at Lin Yumo, then at Mu Xuewei, and then back at Lin Yumo.

He roared internally: Ah. Huh? Ah!

Was he being overly self-conscious?

Lin Yumo poured a small amount of wine into a bowl, just enough to cover the bottom. “You’re young, you can only have one sip, just one.”

Mu Xuewei held the bowl with both hands, her eyes gazing at the clear wine at the bottom, and obediently said, “I’ll listen to Senior Sister.”

Lin Yumo watched her drink it. A blush crept onto her pale face. The soft, warm candlelight reflecting on her face seemed to make her a little more adorable.

Lin Yumo leaned slightly closer to her, and spoke gently, “The wine is finished, and the sword practice is done. Time for bed, isn’t it, Young Miss Mu?”

Having to be waited on for everything, wasn’t she just a young miss?

Mu Xuewei nodded, stood up, but hesitated to move.

Lin Yumo stacked the two wine bowls together, tossing her hair. The cyan hair tie fluttered in the wind.

Mu Xuewei followed quietly behind Lin Yumo.

Lin Yumo turned to close the door, a little surprised, and her hands paused.

Mu Xuewei was pressing her hands against the door, her face flushed, her grey pupils shimmering with moisture, clear and clean. “May I… sleep in the same bed as Senior Sister?”

Sleep in the same bed?

Young Miss Mu, listen to what you’re saying! Doesn’t the little girl feel embarrassed?

Lin Yumo couldn’t accept it. She made to support Mu Xuewei’s arm, intending to escort her back to her own room. “I’ll take you back to your room, you’re drunk.”

But before her hand could even touch her, the person opposite had already flung herself into her embrace.

“I…” Mu Xuewei murmured, her soft lips pressed close to Lin Yumo’s ear. Her lips moved, and the hot breath completely puffed onto Lin Yumo’s ear. “…am not drunk at all…”

Lin Yumo froze, not daring to move, allowing Mu Xuewei to hang on her entirely.

After a long moment, she finally recovered, gently closing the door, only to meet Li Shuangxing’s complex gaze.

Lin Yumo awkwardly pulled at the corner of her mouth, then placed Mu Xuewei on the bed and tucked her in with the quilt.

She stood by the bed, momentarily unsure if she should sleep herself.

When she was little, she had slept with her mother. After coming to the Purple Bamboo Forest, she slept with her Master. In her youth, she had also slept with Senior Sisters she got along with.

In truth, two women sleeping together was a perfectly normal thing.

But at this moment, Lin Yumo did not dare. She felt a little…

…abnormal.

It was a feeling she couldn’t quite name, but it was different from how she had ever felt towards her Senior or Junior Sisters before. She had cared for other Junior Sisters, and she could have washed their clothes or even fed them every day if necessary.

But her feelings for Mu Xuewei were unlike before. It didn’t feel like the natural care a Senior Sister should give a Junior Sister; instead, she truly enjoyed the feeling.

The feeling of taking care of Mu Xuewei.

Mu Xuewei was different, very different, just different.

Lin Yumo closed her eyes, lightened her steps, and backed out of her own room. She softly closed the door and then walked into Mu Xuewei’s room.

Mu Xuewei slept in her room, so it should be perfectly reasonable for her to sleep in Mu Xuewei’s room, right?

She lay on the bed. A faint scent lingered around her nose, like the fragrance of tea leaves.

So fragrant.

She had chosen the bedding in Mu Xuewei’s room herself, and it was the same as her own—completely unscented.

How could her bedding be so fragrant? What did she bathe with to be this fragrant?

Thinking this, a blurred image of a wooden tub involuntarily appeared before her eyes.

Mist curled above the wooden tub, hiding a blooming hibiscus. The “hibiscus” turned around, and the grey eyes, shimmering with light, looked over at her.

Damn it.

Lin Yumo forcefully slapped her reddened face, instantly bursting out of the room. She leaped onto the eaves and laid down.

Demoness!

She truly is a demoness!

She is really a demoness!

Yes, it was another night spent on the eaves, enduring the cold wind.

The sky was just beginning to brighten in the morning. Lin Yumo yawned. Having not slept all night, she stretched lazily, got down from the eaves, and sat on the meirenkao (literally ‘beauty rest,’ a kind of railing) to doze off, leaning against a pillar.

Towards midday, Lin Yumo was forcibly awakened by the blazing sun.

She half-opened her eyes and looked into the courtyard, unexpectedly spotting Mu Xuewei. She stretched her stiff neck. “Why haven’t you gone to the Hall of Soaring Wind yet?”

Perhaps she had sobered up, as Mu Xuewei’s face had returned to its usual paleness. However, her hair was styled very differently today; it was tied up, seemingly in imitation of Lin Yumo, with a white hair tie.

Her hair tie was long, hanging down to her shoulder. Her fingertips wrapped around the hair tie as she lowered her head and whispered, “Senior Sister, I’m afraid of… Liu Yan…”

Her voice was slightly choked. “I offended him. Will he seek revenge on me…?”

Lin Yumo was washing up. She went into her room to change her clothes, securing the Kunwu Sword to her waist. She adjusted her attire in the mirror. Her robes billowed as she walked out of the room.

“Let’s go. I’ll go to the Hall of Soaring Wind with you.”

Mu Xuewei was indeed beautiful, and she had no shortage of admirers. Liu Yan was just one of those scoundrels.

Moreover, Liu Yan was extremely despicable, and she was worried he might cause trouble for Mu Xuewei.

Even though this Junior Sister of hers might very likely become the future Demon Venerable, since she wasn’t one now, Lin Yumo had to treat and protect her like a fellow Junior Sister.

Lin Yumo considered herself a rough person; she could speak bluntly. But Mu Xuewei couldn’t. Her personality was a little weak, and she wasn’t good at refusing people. She was a genuinely good girl.

As they walked up the steps of the Hall of Soaring Wind, a low, buzzing sound drifted into Lin Yumo’s ears.

“Hey, did you hear? Something happened to Liu Yan…”

“Liu Yan? The one from the Hall of Proper Virtue?”

“Yeah, I heard he… that thing happened to him…”

“What thing?”

The woman glanced around, her eyes evasive. “Oh, well, I heard he had a one-night stand, and now… he’s impotent…”

These words from the female disciples all reached Lin Yumo’s ears, and Lin Yumo couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

Immediately after, a shout of anger entered Lin Yumo’s ear. “Lin Yumo!”

Lin Yumo stopped and turned to look at the source of the voice: Chen Yan.

Chen Yan aggressively strode toward Lin Yumo, his broad sword pointing at her. “What exactly did you do to my Junior Brother!”

Lin Yumo frowned. She had just overheard the conversation of those female disciples, but she truly hadn’t done anything to Liu Yan.

She wasn’t going to take the blame for this.

She crossed her arms over her chest, holding her sword, and met Chen Yan’s gaze. “This is called the wicked receiving their just desserts.”

“You should be glad it wasn’t my doing, or I would have chosen to make him incapable of having children.”

Lin Yumo raised an eyebrow, looking at Chen Yan’s frustrated expression—wanting to hit her but unable to defeat her—and felt secretly pleased.

In this world, apart from her Master, no one could truly control her.

She led Mu Xuewei, walking grandly past Chen Yan, even bumping his shoulder a little—full of provocation.

“Don’t be afraid!” she reassured Mu Xuewei.

Mu Xuewei lowered her head, following Lin Yumo up the steps, a faint smile curving her lips.

Liu Yan didn’t die because he was Senior Sister’s fellow disciple.

The wind was warm, the sky was blue, and the sun was bright. Mu Xuewei’s mood also improved.

For half a month straight, Lin Yumo accompanied Mu Xuewei to class. It eventually became a habit. Even the Hall Master of Soaring Heaven, who used to punish her daily, started smiling at her.

She was occasionally cited as an example and even praised a few times, with words to the effect of: if even Lin Yumo can come to class daily, what excuse do other disciples have not to study seriously?

Late at night, Lin Yumo gazed at the Kunwu Sword suspended before her, her brow furrowed in thought.

The Sword Trial Tournament did not differentiate when a disciple had entered the inner sect, nor did it match competitors based on strength; instead, it used a lottery system.

This meant a newly entered inner sect disciple might face someone who had been in the inner sect for over a decade. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t fair, but it was precisely because of this unfairness that they could see how many talented disciples there truly were.

Lin Yumo had signed up for this Sword Trial Tournament. In her past life, she utterly despised these chaotic gatherings and avoided this tournament like the plague.

But in this life, she wanted to participate—not for the prize, but because she wanted to understand Mount Xuanling.

She wanted to see how many geniuses were among this generation of disciples.

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