The Abused Heroine Stops Pretending [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 66.2

Wu Xingyue clenched her jaw and tumbled off the bed. Ignoring the pain, she dragged herself toward the door. The wounds on her chest burned fiercely, and sweat dripped from her forehead, but she paid no mind. She had to get back as soon as possible.

Master, wait for me.

Three days had passed, and Tang Jing still hadn’t seen Wu Xingyue return. She knew something was wrong. The system had only provided her with fragmented plot points, and there was no useful information about Wu Xingyue’s whereabouts in the given storyline.

For the past three days, she had stood by the door, watching and waiting for Wu Xingyue to come back. But there was still no sign of her.

On the fourth day, she went to the door again and spotted a figure approaching in the distance. Her heart leaped, and she hurried forward only to stop abruptly when she realized it wasn’t Wu Xingyue.

“It’s not A-Yue,” Tang Jing murmured, frozen in place.

The figure drew closer, revealing a filthy, lecherous rogue. His beady eyes gleamed when he caught sight of the ethereal woman standing in front of the small wooden house.

Tang Jing sensed danger and quickly retreated inside, barricading the door with a chair. Her eyes darted around the room before settling on the scissors on the table, the ones Wu Xingyue used for sewing. Now, they became her only weapon for survival.

The rogue outside was clearly targeting her. Though her cultivation was sealed, she could still tell he was just a mortal.

For an ordinary man to make it through the Dark Forest and reach its depths, it was obvious this was no coincidence. Combined with Wu Xingyue’s three-day disappearance, she knew someone had orchestrated this.

The target was her. And sending such a despicable rogue could only mean one thing, they wanted to ruin her.

At this thought, Tang Jing’s hand holding the scissors trembled, half from fear, half from anger, but mostly from concern for A-Yue.

If someone could use such a person to ruin her, what about A-Yue?

Tang Jing hurriedly took two steps toward the door but was startled by the sound of it being slammed, causing her to retreat a few steps.

Her back pressed against the edge of the table, her grip on the scissors tightening, her eyes fixed unwaveringly on the wooden door.

A-Yue’s protective barrier had been broken. She became even more certain that the person outside had been deliberately brought in by someone with ill intentions. Her gaze shifted to the window, contemplating escape through it.

“Little beauty,” the ruffian, unable to break down the door, ran to the window, tapping on it while taunting, “Little beauty, open the door for me. Let big brother take care of you.”

Tang Jing’s face was cold as she stared in the direction of the window, her emotions gradually settling into icy calm.

The man outside continued pounding on the door until his temper flared, and he began ramming it with a wooden stake. The door started to creak and sway precariously.

Tang Jing stood a few meters away, watching.

When the man finally burst through the door, her mind was eerily calm, her eyes cold as she regarded him.

Blinded by lust, the man failed to sense the danger approaching. With a lecherous grin, he rubbed his hands together and lunged forward. “Little beauty, here I come!”

“Thud!” The sound of a sharp blade piercing flesh.

The ruffian’s eyes widened in pain, but it was too late, his breath was already leaving him. Embedded deep in the side of his neck was a pair of scissors, driven in to the hilt.

Tang Jing kicked him away with all her strength, then leaned against the table, coughing violently. She bent over as if trying to expel her lungs, the veins on the back of her hand standing out starkly against her skin proof of her current agony.

The stench of blood filled the air. This was no place to linger.

Staggering, Tang Jing slowly made her way to the cellar behind the cabin, a storage space A-Yue had dug years ago for food supplies.

Normally frequented by rodents and insects, the cellar had also been warded by Wu Xingyue’s protective barriers. Now, it became Tang Jing’s last refuge.

Meanwhile, in the Soul-Reaping Hall of the Nine Palaces Sect, a long trail of blood stretched from the bedside to the doorway, where a figure lay, crawling inch by inch toward the exit.

At first, Nan Gong Chenjun watched with amused detachment, but gradually, her expression darkened into fury. As Wu Xingyue reached the door, Nan Gong stepped forward, looming over her. Through gritted teeth, she spat, “You love your master so much? Have you forgotten how, a hundred years ago, she kicked you out of the sect despite your pleas? Who took you in then?”

Wu Xingyue lay on the ground, her heart consumed by thoughts of her master. The pain of the demonic worms gnawing at her heart paled in comparison to the torment of imagining her master in danger.

“Even so, I love her,” Wu Xingyue gasped, struggling to keep crawling. “Even if she kills me, I’m willing.”

Nan Gong Chenjun stomped on her hand, grinding her heel mercilessly. “You’re truly pathetic.”

Wu Xingyue lowered her eyes and let out a bitter laugh. “Aren’t I just?” When it came to her master, she would always abandon her own limits.

A century ago, when her master had driven her out of the sect, she had sworn never to cross paths with them again. Yet, throughout these hundred years, she had thought of them every single moment, bribing a junior disciple from the Lingyu Palace to send her occasional updates, and later sneaking into the palace herself to secretly watch her master from the shadows.

Back then, she despised herself for her wretchedness, yet she couldn’t tear her eyes away from her master’s every move. She had become utterly incurable.

The moment she fell in love with her master, she knew there was no saving her.

And now, she had resorted to every means to confine her master in a small wooden hut, deluding herself into believing it was their home, rising with the sun and resting with its setting. These years of blissful life had made her forget the lurking dangers.

She hated herself. If anything were to happen to her master, she wouldn’t want to live either.

With these thoughts, she gritted her teeth and continued crawling forward.

“Stop crawling,” Nangong Chenjun ordered, summoning someone to carry her back to where she had been.

“Wu Xingyue, don’t forget you owe me a favor,” Nangong Chenjun said before turning and walking away.

Wu Xingyue curled her lips but said nothing.

The fact that he didn’t call her Qiu Yue but instead used “Wu Xingyue” meant she had been cast out of the Nine Palaces Sect.

But now was not the time for relief. She needed to return to the hut quickly her master was waiting.

The demonic sect members dropped her off near the hut before leaving.

Without the demonic poison, Wu Xingyue’s body gradually recovered. Step by step, she made her way toward the hut. The more her strength returned, the faster she moved. In the final stretch, she practically flew forward. “Master!”

The hut’s door was broken open, the wooden beam still lying across the threshold. There was no sign of her master. Wu Xingyue’s pupils constricted, her limbs trembling as she staggered inside. “Master?”

A strange man lay dead by the table, a pair of scissors embedded in his neck.

Wu Xingyue exhaled in relief, only for her heart to clench again.

The barrier was broken. Danger lurked everywhere. Though her master had escaped this mortal man’s assault, what about the demons and monsters nearby?

The thought drove her out of the hut, screaming frantically, “Master!”

She scanned the surroundings, but there was no trace of her master. Her gaze fixed on the dark forest ahead, her eyes burning with desperation as she prepared to charge in.

“Ah Yue.” A soft voice called from behind.

Wu Xingyue thought she was hallucinating and stood frozen in place.

“Ah Yue.”

The voice came again, closer this time. Wu Xingyue turned and, upon seeing the figure in the distance, couldn’t hold back her tears. “Master.”

Disbelief and confusion swirled within her, it felt like a dream.

“Come,” Tang Jing extended a hand toward her.

Wu Xingyue stepped forward, grasping that hand. The warmth in her palm confirmed that the master before her was real. All the emotions she had suppressed came pouring out as she threw herself into their arms, clinging tightly, her entire body trembling with lingering fear. “Master.”

“I’m here,” Tang Jing gently patted her back, just like when Wu Xingyue was a child when the little one was afraid of the dark and ghosts, sneaking into her master’s chambers at night, crawling into their bed, and shivering in their embrace.

Back then, her master had comforted her the same way.

“Master,” Wu Xingyue called out again, overwhelmed by the joy of having them back.

Tang Jing patiently reassured her, “I’m here.”

Wu Xingyue gradually calmed down, then suddenly remembered something. She stepped back and looked Tang Jing over anxiously, asking, “Are you hurt anywhere?”

“I’m fine.” Tang Jing patted the back of her hand soothingly. But when she noticed the deep stain on Wu Xingyue’s chest, she reached out to touch it, her fingertips came away covered in blood. Her voice turned urgent as she said, “You’re injured.”

Wuxingyue, not wanting to worry her master, feigned nonchalance and said, “Someone else’s blood.”

Tang Jing didn’t believe her for a second and immediately tried to pull her inside. But when she caught sight of the corpse on the ground, she froze in her tracks.

Wuxingyue stepped forward and said, “Master, please wait outside. I’ll handle this.”

Tang Jing pressed her lips together and nodded. “Alright.” She turned and walked away, unwilling to lay eyes on that little ruffian’s face again.

Wuxingyue grabbed the lifeless man by the scruff like a dead dog, flew with him into the depths of the Dark Forest, and tossed him into a pack of demons as if discarding trash. She watched as the demons fought over the corpse, tearing it apart until not even a speck of bone remained. Only then did she leave.

The man had died too easily. Otherwise, she would have made sure to “entertain” him properly leaving him begging for death yet unable to find it.

Later, when she realized all of this had been orchestrated by Nangong Chenjun, her eyes turned cold.

Gratitude was one thing, but harming her master was unforgivable unless they stepped over her dead body first.

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