The Vicious Beauty Faked His Death Three Times [Transmigration] - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Negotiation

The drop of blood fell onto Ling Yanhe’s face. His half-closed eyes snapped open instantly, his dark pupils already brimming with a murderous aura.

Seeing this, Lin Qinghan’s smile grew even more provocative. He applied pressure and forcibly snapped the thin wire. Ling Yanhe’s expression immediately turned wary, and the grip on Lin Qinghan’s wrist loosened; Lin Qinghan broke free easily, leaving distinct red marks on his fair skin.

He didn’t want to maintain the confrontation anymore; the posture was making him tired. He patted the hand still pressing against his neck and straightened his back with effortless poise.

Lin Qinghan lifted his hand, frowning with dissatisfaction at the gruesome wound on his right fingertip. “Tsk. Now I can’t cook for the Young Master.”

Ling Yanhe propped himself up, sitting at the head of the bed. He wiped the blood from his face with a fierce motion, staring at Lin Qinghan with a sinister gaze.

He’s angry, Lin Qinghan thought.

But he didn’t intend to soothe him. He couldn’t afford to lose this first confrontation with the protagonist. Only by demonstrating his strength would he incite wariness in the other man, thereby gaining the upper hand in the upcoming negotiations.

With this in mind, Lin Qinghan stopped looking at Ling Yanhe’s expression. He walked over to the copper basin, scooped up some clear water to rinse the blood from his wound, and casually grabbed some clean gauze to wrap it. Fortunately, Ye Chaoyan had the habit of keeping medical supplies in every room; otherwise, having a fingertip dripping blood would truly be a nuisance.

“What did you do?”

The voice of a man who had just regained consciousness carried a unique raspiness, mixed with suppressed fury. To Lin Qinghan’s ears, it sounded quite pleasant.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he picked up the bowl of herbal soup from the table, which was beginning to cool, and walked back toward the bed under Ling Yanhe’s guarded gaze.

“The Young Master injured his leg; naturally, I am here to feed the Young Master his medicine.” Lin Qinghan spoke as he reached the bedside, his eyes sweeping over the lower half of Ling Yanhe’s body.

As expected, Ling Yanhe’s expression darkened abruptly. The look he gave Lin Qinghan suggested he wanted to skin him alive.

Lin Qinghan remained unfazed by the glare. Ling Yanhe’s wire trick had surprised him earlier, but the man was ultimately too weak upon waking. Furthermore, a cultivator at the late stage of Qi Refining struggled to face a Golden Core stage master like Lin Qinghan. To him, Ling Yanhe’s fierce gaze was merely a wolf pup baring its teeth.

“Take it away,” Ling Yanhe said, his face grim.

“Is the Young Master sure he won’t drink it? Your injuries will take at least half a month to improve; if you don’t drink this, I’m afraid they’ll heal even slower.”

Lin Qinghan looked at the man with a hint of helplessness. Seeing the unwavering suspicion in Ling Yanhe’s eyes, he shook his head and let go. The porcelain bowl hit the floor with a thud, instantly shattering into scattered shards.

It seemed the man was still deeply suspicious. Lin Qinghan sighed inwardly.

Ling Yanhe’s brow furrowed, and his entire state shifted. He glared at Lin Qinghan, preparing for a fight. However, Lin Qinghan only looked at the spilled medicine with a trace of regret.

“What a pity. I spent a whole hour carefully brewing that for the Young Master,” Lin Qinghan said with feigned lament. “But if the Young Master doesn’t want to drink it, then so be it. Missing one dose won’t hurt.”

Before Ling Yanhe could react, hurried footsteps echoed outside. There was a knock on the door, followed by a young girl’s voice.

“A-Han, are you alright?”

Hearing the anxious voice from outside, Ling Yanhe narrowed his eyes at Lin Qinghan.

Lin Qinghan ignored his scrutiny and replied to Shen Miaomiao with a composed tone, “I’m fine. I simply knocked over the medicine by accident and startled the Young Master. Thank you for your concern, Miss Shen.”

The words sounded considerate, but they carried a different meaning to Shen Miaomiao’s ears.

“Hmph, making excuses for him again,” Shen Miaomiao said irritably. “Fine, you two talk. If anything happens, just call for A-Yan or me. I doubt he’d dare do anything to you.”

“Thank you, Miss Shen.”

Once the footsteps faded, Lin Qinghan looked back at the strangely-expressioned Ling Yanhe, who turned his head away.

Childish temper, Lin Qinghan thought.

He pulled out a wooden stool and sat at the table, taking out the ointment Ye Chaoyan had given him earlier to treat his finger.

“That girl just now is the only daughter of the Shen family, Shen Miaomiao. Speaking of which, she and her friend are our saviors. If they hadn’t passed by the cliff and brought us back for treatment, we wouldn’t be sitting here talking so peacefully.”

Lin Qinghan gave Ling Yanhe a polite smile and then let out a small gasp as if suddenly remembering something. “By the way, you’ve probably heard of her friend: the eldest daughter of the Ye family, Ye Chaoyan.”

As expected, Ling Yanhe turned to look at him, his eyes filled with inquiry.

“During the half-month the Young Master was unconscious, I was the one who bathed you, changed your bandages, and fed you. In the eyes of those two ladies, our bond is incredibly deep. However… their impression of the Young Master isn’t very good.”

Lin Qinghan put away the ointment and looked at Ling Yanhe, waiting for a response.

Ling Yanhe arched an eyebrow and said with cold irony, “You certainly are capable.”

“Thank you for the compliment, Young Master.”

Silence fell over the room again. Lin Qinghan sighed softly when Ling Yanhe refused to speak further. It seemed the information he had thrown out wasn’t enough to entice the man to open up.

“Come to think of it, the Immortal Sect Trials are set to begin in two months. Many people have already set off for the Lingxiao Sect.”

At this, Ling Yanhe’s expression turned ugly.

The Immortal Sect Trials were a vital event for the Lingxiao Sect to recruit disciples and for major families to showcase their power. Almost everyone from the great families would head to the foot of the mountain two months early to network and test each other. Ling Yanhe was supposed to be one of them, but unfortunately, the original host had pushed him off a cliff. Otherwise, he would be on the road by now.

Seeing a crack in the man’s composure, Lin Qinghan continued, “Coincidentally, this Linyu Village is right on the mandatory path to the sect, and it’s right next to the Sihai Pavilion.”

Judging by the flash of curiosity in Ling Yanhe’s eyes, Lin Qinghan knew he had struck a chord. The Sihai Pavilion was a martial arts venue where many cultivators held “mini-competitions” before the actual trials. Most travelers would stay there for half a month to a month to gauge the strength of other cultivators. People would even create prediction rankings, and some would bet massive amounts of spirit stones on the outcome.

In the original story, Ling Yanhe’s stepmother had ordered the host to push him off the cliff specifically to prevent him from outshining the second son of the Ling family and to steal Ling Yanhe’s betrothal. However, Ling Yanhe had still participated—masked—and became the top-ranked candidate, utterly humiliating his stepmother and half-brother.

“Doesn’t the Young Master want to go see?”

Lin Qinghan toyed with the small ointment jar, the white porcelain bottle spinning between his long, fair fingers. His every gesture could easily captivate an onlooker.

“How can I go in this state?” Ling Yanhe didn’t fall for the charm, his voice tinged with anger.

Undeterred, Lin Qinghan continued, “I took a quiet look at the Sihai Pavilion yesterday. The Ling family banners are already hanging there.”

“Heh. So they couldn’t wait to go back?” Ling Yanhe sneered.

Lin Qinghan shook his head, and the spinning jar stopped with a crisp clack on the wooden table.

“Go back? I’m afraid the Ling family no longer has a place for me.”

As he spoke, a cold light flashed in Lin Qinghan’s eyes, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the jar.

Ling Yanhe found his expression amusing. “My aunt spent so many years painstakingly training you; how could she bear to discard such a good dog?”

Faced with the blatant mockery, Lin Qinghan only gave a self-deprecating smile and shook his head. “I was always a pawn to her, ever since ten years ago. But back then, I was blinded by the promise of freedom. I only truly woke up when I was pushed off that cliff.”

“I want them to pay the price they deserve.”

CRACK—

The porcelain jar Lin Qinghan had been holding suddenly shattered, ointment and blood staining his jade-like hands.

The mockery in Ling Yanhe’s eyes faded. He studied the man in front of him and suddenly let out a soft laugh. “You want to defect to my side?”

“Yes,” Lin Qinghan replied, pursing his lips.

“Why do you think I would want another person’s dog?” Ling Yanhe looked at him coldly.

Lin Qinghan lowered his gaze in thought for a moment. When he looked up again, there was a hint of a smile in his eyes. “Because the Young Master needs me right now.”

Seeing Ling Yanhe’s unmoved expression, he decided to play his trump card.

“If the Young Master doesn’t trust me, then simply place your unique mark upon me. From this day forth, I shall be the Young Master’s blade.”

In this unfamiliar environment, Ling Yanhe would prefer a known, controllable quantity over a stranger—even if that acquaintance had bitten him once. As long as he could control him, he would find him useful. If he didn’t have even this much courage, how could he ever unify the four realms?

The method for controlling him was written clearly in the original novel: after their first confrontation, Ling Yanhe would plant a Symbiotic Gu in the host. This was a secret Ling family technique. The “Sub-Gu” allowed the master to force the host to do anything; any resistance resulted in the pain of a thousand heart-stabs. Furthermore, the Sub-Gu could act as a “life-shield” for the Master-Gu holder.

The Symbiotic Gu was also intensely “territorial,” consuming any other parasites in the body to act as nutrients. It was the King of a hundred Gu. This secret was passed only to the direct heir. Even if Ling Yanhe’s father disliked him, he was the only legitimate heir—which was exactly why his stepmother wanted him dead.

Now, with his legs injured, Ling Yanhe needed an assistant to go to the Sihai Pavilion. Originally, that assistant was Ye Chaoyan. But now, thanks to Lin Qinghan’s interference, he was the only option left.

Ling Yanhe had to choose him as his blade. There was no other choice.

“I hate smart people,” Ling Yanhe said coldly, the gloom between his brows deepening.

Lin Qinghan’s lips curled into a light smile, and he felt a secret relief.

“But the Young Master needs smart people right now.”

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