The Fox Spirit Raised by the Villain Wants to Defect - Chapter 7

Xiaoyu detected a hint of impatience in Wen Yu’s words. His voice was also much deeper than before, as if he were deliberately suppressing it.

She looked up and met the surging darkness in his eyes, which seemed to contain gigantic, treacherous waves.

She instinctively took a step back. A subtle fear arose from the bottom of her heart, and the fox ears atop her head twitched nervously.

Xiaoyu denied it, her voice much weaker: “I didn’t know at all; it snuck in by itself…”

After her explanation, she only received two terse words from Wen Yu.

“Is that so?”

Xiaoyu nodded. Her gaze went past Wen Yu and saw that the coal lump had almost completely dispersed, leaving only a faint wisp of black mist.

“Taoist Priest, it’s about to disappear.”

Wen Yu, however, seemed unconcerned about the demon. He didn’t turn to look, but instead asked Xiaoyu, “Are you worried about whether it lives or dies?”

Xiaoyu hesitated. She wouldn’t call it “worry,” but she had previously found the demon cute and harmless, so she felt a slight fondness for it.

“It doesn’t seem capable of hurting people; it’s so weak,” Xiaoyu said, cautiously observing Wen Yu’s expression.

Wen Yu pursed his lips. His fingers suddenly tightened around the jade flute, and an almost imperceptible frown appeared between his brows: “You want to release it?”

As the scattering demonic qi vanished from the room, the annoyance on Wen Yu’s face intensified.

Xiaoyu cautiously glanced at Wen Yu, feeling that he was hinting at something deeper.

“Taoist Priest, you decide. You just decide.”

Saying this, Xiaoyu felt that the current Wen Yu was less approachable than before, so she retreated, intending to leave.

After only two steps, she was called back.

“Where are you going?”

Xiaoyu pointed behind her and managed a smile: “I’m going back to my room to rest…”

Wen Yu didn’t reply. He turned and walked away.

Xiaoyu breathed a sigh of relief, assuming Wen Yu had tacitly allowed her to return. Just as she was about to move, she heard him speak: “You will stay here tonight.”

In the next second, the remaining wisp of black mist, encased by something transparent, was placed in front of Xiaoyu.

“Huh?”

Xiaoyu held the black mist, completely baffled.

What was the meaning of this? Staying with Wen Yu—would she even be able to sleep?

“Taoist Priest, I—”

As she spoke, she saw Wen Yu turn his back to her and untie the hair ribbon at the back of his head. His hair fell smoothly down his back like a waterfall.

Hearing Xiaoyu’s voice, he turned his face slightly to the side, his eyelids half-lifted, and said nonchalantly, “Stay here, lest you attract more messy demons.”

Xiaoyu choked, speechless.

Fine, staying with Wen Yu is acceptable, but…

There was only one bed. Was she expected to sleep on the floor?

The next moment, Wen Yu walked into her view, lay down on the bed, adopting an extremely upright sleeping posture. His body was straight, his hair was pressed beneath him, his hands were folded over his abdomen, and he slept fully clothed.

The jade flute he carried was placed on the inner side, within easy reach.

As Wen Yu walked over, Xiaoyu saw a blood-red color at the bottom end of the jade flute. She remembered this flute was either all red or all green; now it was actually mixing colors.

Seeing Wen Yu close his eyes to rest, Xiaoyu tiptoed to the right-side chair and sat down. She placed the black mist on the table and examined it closely.

It was faint, like ink spreading in water.

Is this demon going to die?

As she watched, her gaze drifted to Wen Yu lying on the bed.

His forehead was full, his eye sockets deep, his nose bridge high, and his lip shape was also attractive, though his lips were a pale color. His hair was soft and shiny.

Xiaoyu felt envious. She was exhausted from working hard every day and constantly losing hair.

When I get more familiar with Wen Yu later, I’ll ask him for his hair care routine.

The room quieted down. As long as Xiaoyu remained still, there was virtually no sound.

Xiaoyu softened her breathing, staring at Wen Yu’s face, her eyes gradually growing heavy. Finally, she rested her head on her arms and fell asleep at the table.

The fox ears on her head drooped down, resting alongside her.

She was utterly exhausted. She had been frightened multiple times, had fallen into the water twice, and had been exposed to the cold wind. That she hadn’t fallen ill was a testament to her good physical conditioning.

Her breathing gradually became steady.

Not long after, the black mist on the table suddenly trembled.

Neither person in the room reacted.

The black mist slowly seeped out from the object containing it, changing from deep to light like ink, until it fully escaped.

It moved slightly closer to Xiaoyu, then bobbed up and down a little. If it were in its complete form, it would likely be talking to Xiaoyu right now.

The black mist floated to the window, pried open a pinhole-sized gap, compressed itself into a long, thin streak, and squeezed out.

After the last trace of black mist completely disappeared, the person on the bed suddenly opened his eyes, his gaze fixed directly on the spot where the black mist had escaped.

Wen Yu’s sight gradually focused on the person sleeping on the table. The coldness in his eyes was replaced by a layer of dark shadow.

If Xiaoyu had opened her eyes at that moment, she would have seen the chilling murderous intent pouring out of Wen Yu’s eyes.

A red mark that had crept up the back of Wen Yu’s neck was flickering on and off. The veins in his neck bulged, and his hands, folded over his abdomen, were clenched tightly into fists, as if he were trying hard to endure something.

He closed his eyes, and the eyeballs beneath his lids twitched restlessly.

A few hours later, when the first streak of white light rose in the east, the tense man instantly relaxed his hands, as if receiving a signal, and calmed down.

In less than a quarter of an hour, Wen Yu opened his eyes again, his gaze restored to its usual placidity. He got up from the bed, picked up the jade flute, and hung it on his waist.

He tilted his head back slightly, and his slender fingers ran through his hair, tying it neatly.

This entire sequence of movements produced almost no sound.

Xiaoyu, sleeping soundly at the table, had her arms spread out, her face pressed directly against the surface. Wen Yu glanced at her, then turned and walked toward the door.

The door opened, then closed.

Xiaoyu didn’t hear a single sound; she was in a deep sleep.

About half an hour later, the door was opened again, and footsteps echoed loudly.

A hand smacked the table, immediately startling Xiaoyu awake.

The person who was abruptly woken up hadn’t fully cleared her head. She opened her blurry, sleep-filled eyes, a red mark still visible on her cheek.

“What’s wrong…” Dazzling sunlight streamed in. As soon as Xiaoyu opened her eyes, she saw a person who had opened the window staring directly at her.

Duanmu Ying disliked the fox demon’s sleepy appearance. She slapped the table, the loud sound instantly jolting Xiaoyu fully awake.

“What time is it? The sun is already up, and you’re still sleeping.”

Xiaoyu rubbed her numb arm. Her legs were numb from maintaining a sitting posture for a long time.

As she slowly moved her body to restore sensation, she looked around.

She only saw Duanmu Ying; Wen Yu was nowhere in sight. The quilt on the bed was neatly folded, as if no one had slept there.

“I’m awake now,” Xiaoyu stood up and stretched her legs. She noticed that the black mist she had placed on the table last night was gone; the table was completely empty.

She subconsciously wanted to ask where the black mist went, but seeing Duanmu Ying’s displeased face, she refrained.

“Let’s go. We’re getting off the ship.” Duanmu Ying walked a few steps, and seeing Xiaoyu hadn’t followed, she impatiently urged, “Master is waiting for you below. Hurry up.”

Xiaoyu started, and quickly followed.

Walking barefoot, she staggered with every step. Her legs hadn’t fully recovered, and her head was still dizzy, giving her a top-heavy feeling.

The doors to the rooms on both sides of the ship’s cabin were open, and they were empty.

Following Duanmu Ying, she swayed out of the cabin, walked outside, and was immediately grabbed by the collar and pulled down as Duanmu Ying jumped off the ship.

Xiaoyu’s head was still foggy. Her body suddenly soared into the air and then violently dropped. Her heart almost leaped out of her chest.

Why is it so frightening first thing in the morning!

When she landed, she couldn’t steady herself and almost fell to her knees.

A piercing pain shot through her feet, making it impossible to stand properly.

The ground beneath her feet wasn’t smooth; it was a stone path!

Xiaoyu quickly found a smooth spot. She lifted her foot to look: her sole was uneven, red in some places and white in others.

I should have asked Wen Yu for a pair of shoes last night.

“Why are you dawdling? Walk faster.” Duanmu Ying turned around and saw that Xiaoyu had fallen far behind. She urged her forward.

Xiaoyu pouted, softly muttered a complaint, and tiptoed across the stones.

Fortunately, Wen Yu’s medicine was effective. She had applied it to the wounds on her soles last night, and they were completely healed by morning.

Duanmu Ying immediately figured out why Xiaoyu was walking so slowly.

“You demon beasts have thick skin and rough hide. Are you really afraid of a few stones? Don’t pretend to be something you’re not.”

Xiaoyu ignored her. When reading the book, Duanmu Ying had been heavily criticized by the readers.

Despite being the heroine of the original book, her character was worse than some supporting roles. She had a terrible temper and refused to listen to advice. Relying on her powerful Master and her father, who was the Sect Leader, she felt she had strong backing and spoke very bluntly.

If I had known I was going to transmigrate into this book, I should have finished reading it. I don’t even know what Duanmu Ying’s final outcome was.

The sun rose, shining over the land, and Xiaoyu finally caught a glimpse of this world.

Her vision gradually broadened.

The stone path began to fork, leading toward the fields. Crops grew toward the sun in dozens of mu of farmland. It was a stretch of green, vibrant with life.

Gazing into the distance, houses were neatly arranged, and cooking smoke rose. Looking closer, she could even see people emerging from the houses, heading toward the fields.

Seen from afar, it was like a watercolor painting of farm life in the woods, tranquil and leisurely.

Xiaoyu felt she could retire here, sip tea, and grow vegetables. Perfect.

As they approached, someone came to greet them.

The greeter was an elderly man with dark, coarse skin, who looked honest and simple.

“Heroines—this, this…” The smile on his face immediately disappeared when he saw Xiaoyu. He backed away in fear.

Xiaoyu offered him a friendly smile, but the man seemed even more terrified.

What’s wrong? Why that expression? Did he see a ghost?

Duanmu Ying glanced at the fox ears on Xiaoyu’s head and said to the man, “You don’t need to be afraid. With me here, this demon cannot harm anyone.”

The man repeatedly affirmed his understanding, not daring to get too close, and led them toward the small town.

“We must thank you Immortals this time. If it weren’t for you, all the people in our town would have been captured by those hateful demon beasts!”

Saying this, the man secretly glared at Xiaoyu.

Xiaoyu met his gaze and watched him hurriedly turn his head away.

Why does this person look like he’s seen a ghost the moment he sees me? And now he’s hostile toward me?

The fox ears on her head flickered. Xiaoyu scanned her surroundings, and seeing that the two of them were still chatting, she perked up her ears to listen carefully.

“This is what we orthodox cultivators should do.” Duanmu Ying proudly lifted her head, deliberately amplifying her voice: “Slaying demons and eliminating evil is my duty. I will absolutely not let any demon beast get away.”

Xiaoyu felt her words were pointedly directed at her.