Reborn as a Human Cauldron, But I'm the Top - Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Hate Me, For a Long, Long Time

Shen Yirong held the lamp as she stepped into the room. The candlelight flickered uneasily, and the dimly lit secret chamber wavered between light and darkness.

There was no wind in the room, only the increasingly rich scent of orchid and an occasional, suppressed low gasp.

Shen Yirong pushed open the door and walked in. Parting the crimson gauze curtains, she saw a woman in a red robe lying haphazardly on the bed. The woman was bound, and her beautiful phoenix eyes were wrapped with red silk. Hearing the movement, she forcibly suppressed her sounds.

“Master,” the voice was lingering, and paired with the crimson lips, it was truly captivating.

Perhaps recognizing the newcomer, she stopped restraining herself. Chains clanked as she stretched out her hand, but she ultimately couldn’t reach Shen Yirong’s hand; the chains were not long enough.

Shen Yirong sat on the edge of the bed, affectionately stroking her porcelain-white skin, feeling the tremors caused by herself under her palm.

Her hand gradually moved down, pulling down the already loose clothing, and then…

And then she woke up.

Shen Yirong bolted upright in bed. Because she sat up too quickly, she heard a crisp crack from her waist.

“Hiss! My back!”

A misty film appeared in her eyes. Shen Yirong grimaced, rubbing her afflicted old back, then looked at her familiar small blanket and the moonlight softly filtering through the window.

She seemed to be back in her own room.

Huang Li, who had been dozing at the table, hurried into the inner room when she heard Shen Yirong’s voice. Seeing Shen Yirong’s bewildered but seemingly well-rested appearance, she breathed a sigh of relief.

She sat on the edge of Shen Yirong’s bed and began to ramble, “You slept soundly. You have no idea the Demonic Palace has been turned upside down!”

Shen Yirong was still caught in various dreams, and she asked blankly, “What?”

Huang Li was full of emotion, wiping her tears with a handkerchief, “You were carried back by the Venerable One! Quite a few people saw it.”

Shen Yirong instantly sobered up.

Carried back by Song Yin? In broad daylight?

Shen Yirong could already foresee the coming storm. She lay weakly on the bedboard, slowly covering her face with her sleeve.

She survived, but what was the cost?

She reached out to touch the back of her neck. She only felt smooth skin, but she understood that it would be difficult for her to escape Song Yin’s control now.

…What a cursed fate. Even death couldn’t sever it.

Seeing Shen Yirong’s low spirits, Huang Li felt guilty. She felt it was her bad idea that Shen Yirong had taken to heart, enduring humiliation to seduce the Venerable One.

She suddenly gripped Shen Yirong’s hand tightly, tears welling up in her eyes, saying sorrowfully, “If there is anything I can help you with, you must tell me.”

Shen Yirong blinked in confusion, not understanding why the other person looked so mournful.

After careful thought, could it be that she wanted to curry favor with her?

Although her situation was precarious, she still needed to speak nicely.

Shen Yirong patted Huang Li’s shoulder with great righteousness, “Don’t worry, when I make it big, I will certainly speak highly of you in front of the Venerable One.”

Huang Li almost choked on her words, pulling up a stiff smile, “That’s not necessary. I think this little courtyard is quite nice and peaceful.”

Shen Yirong thought so too, but she had never understood what a cultivation vessel was supposed to be like, as Shen Yi’s memory was blank.

She sat up again, her smile intimate, “Sister Huang, I’ve lost my memory, and now that I have the Venerable One’s favor, I’m afraid I might offend her without knowing. Could you tell me about it?”

Shen Yirong was very good at coaxing people. When she did, her eyes shone like stars in the sky, as if saying, You are the most important person to me right now.

Huang Li could never resist, sighing inwardly, “Little trickster.“

Though grumbling internally, Huang Li dutifully began to share information.

The more Shen Yirong listened, the more she sweated cold. When she heard that the cultivation vessel’s master could control the vessel’s behavior, she broke out in a cold sweat.

She awkwardly touched the skin on the back of her neck again, letting out a helpless sigh.

“What do you think of the Venerable One?” Huang Li tentatively asked.

Shen Yirong looked at the moonlight outside the window and remained silent for a long time. Huang Li looked at her profile, always feeling that her gaze was directed at a different time and space.

She was currently quiet like a goddess statue. The moonlight was inferior to her, and no one dared to disturb her.

Unknowingly, Huang Li even softened her breathing.

What about the Venerable One?

Shen Yirong carefully pondered the question. The current Venerable One was temperamental, cold, and powerful. She didn’t even dare to speak loudly in front of her, only fearing for her life.

But the former Song Yin spoke softly, was gentle and docile, always raising her eyes to softly call her Master, never harboring resentment no matter how she was treated.

Neither was good. Too gentle would lead to being hurt, and now she was the one who hurt others.

But… but that was Song Yin.

Song Yin was a good child, only meeting a bad Master like her.

Shen Yirong retracted her gaze and whispered, “I think the Venerable One is very good.”

Shen Yirong’s expression was too complex. Huang Li couldn’t understand it. “You seem to be hiding a lot in your heart.”

Shen Yirong’s face changed back to a smile. She stretched and began to usher her guest out. She pushed Huang Li toward the door, “Alright, alright, time to sleep now!”

The door creaked shut. Shen Yirong looked at the empty room and suddenly felt a sense of loneliness.

She patted her face, cheering herself up, “Cheer up! Tomorrow is a new day!”

Lying back down, Shen Yirong didn’t dare to fall asleep. She was afraid of dreaming again.

She had few pleasant dreams and many nightmares, but a sensual dream was a first.

Recalling the contents of the dream, Shen Yirong buried her head under the quilt. After a while, she poked her head out again. While her cheeks were flushed, she bit her lip and scorned herself.

She didn’t dare to say her own name, hating herself, “Shen! You are simply a beast!”

Shen Yirong was unable to sleep due to the erotic dream, but the other party in the dream wasn’t faring well either.

She was startled awake from meditation and fell to the floor, gasping for breath. Her unfocused eyes gradually converged, finally allowing her to see everything clearly.

The vine pattern had climbed up her neck again, stopping at her jaw.

Under the candlelight, Song Yin was drenched in sweat. Her originally thin clothing clung tightly to her skin, like a mermaid who had just emerged from the water.

She tried to climb up but found herself utterly weak. With effort, she sat back on the bed, but Song Yin’s breathing was still uneven. The crimson vine pattern slowly moved down, disappearing under her collar.

The scent of orchid filled the room. Song Yin tugged at her collar, intending to tidy her disheveled clothes, but her hand, white as jade, suddenly paused. She followed the direction of the dream, moving her hands downwards, making herself even more vulnerable.

Her breathing suddenly accelerated, followed by a soft gasp from Song Yin. Silence returned to the room.

She lay on the bed, her eyes lost in thought, and then she saw Master’s shadow in the dim candlelight.

The person was dressed in white, with a long sword at her waist, her clothing neat and proper. She stood at her bedside, looking down at her. Traces of disgust appeared in those cold, clear eyes.

Song Yin’s heart pounded. She reached out to pull, then felt she would soil the other person, so she retracted her hand, looking constrained and pitiful. She called out with a trembling voice, “Master.”

The disgust in the other person’s eyes deepened. She frowned and shouted, “Wicked creature!”

Song Yin’s initially calm heart was stirred up again. Her chest heaved, and her eyes shimmered with a hazy wetness.

But the familiar voice did not scold her again. She looked up, confused. There was no one in the candlelight; it was all her hallucination.

After a long time, Song Yin sat up again. She had no mind to tidy her clothes, merely staring blankly at the flickering candlelight.

A moment later, she hugged herself and curled up, like a small, abandoned animal.

The crimson vine pattern appeared on her face again. Song Yin did not suppress it as usual; instead, she let it be.

Thus, in the hallucination, she once again saw the figure she missed day and night.

The crimson in her eyes deepened. Song Yin’s inner demon was much more severe than usual.

The inner demon hissed in her ear, “How pathetic. Your Master doesn’t love you.”

“You killed your Master, personally piercing her heart with a sword.”

“Even so, do you still delude yourself into thinking you can receive her love?”

Blood appeared on Song Yin’s lips. She seemed to have lost her sanity and was on the verge of being completely consumed by the inner demon.

But suddenly, she smiled.

She tore the illusion of the inner demon to shreds. The annoying voices were gone.

“Hmph. Then hate me, for a long, long time.”

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