The Vicious Beauty Faked His Death Three Times [Transmigration] - Chapter 3

“Alright.”

Ling Yanhe looked at him with a raised eyebrow, extending his right hand to reveal a pupa-like Gu worm wriggling in his palm.

Lin Qinghan stared at the creature, his gaze dark and unreadable. The other had agreed, but it also meant placing his life in this man’s hands. While the feeling of being controlled wasn’t pleasant, compared to the original host’s fate in the novel, his current partnership with Ling Yanhe wasn’t too terrible.

“Come here. I’ll give you the Sub-Gu.” Ling Yanhe beckoned him over.

Lin Qinghan took two steps forward and reached out to receive the worm. But before he could touch it, he was suddenly forced down by an overwhelming canopy of thin wires. He was pressed down until his gaze was level with Ling Yanhe’s, and his outstretched hand was pinned motionless by a wire.

“What is the Young Master doing?” Lin Qinghan looked at the man. Instead of anger, his heart held a trace of curiosity.

Ling Yanhe reached out and pinched his chin. Previously, he had been too focused on their confrontation, but now that he was close, he realized the man before him had a somewhat bewitching appearance. It would be even better if he just kept that mouth shut.

“Marking you.” Ling Yanhe looked up at him and applied pressure, forcing Lin Qinghan to open his mouth before feeding the Gu worm to him.

The sensation of the Gu sliding down his throat was unpleasant; Lin Qinghan instinctively furrowed his brows.

“Don’t move.” The wire pressed against the back of his neck tightened as if giving a warning.

Lin Qinghan indeed stopped struggling, meeting the eyes of the man who looked like he was watching a play. What a perverse personality, Lin Qinghan thought.

Ling Yanhe arched an eyebrow, his mood lightening for once.

In the next instant, Lin Qinghan’s body suddenly went limp. He collapsed into a half-kneeling position, his face turning deathly pale as fine beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. He wanted to curl up in pain, but because Ling Yanhe was still gripping his chin, he was forced to look up.

Ling Yanhe squinted at the pale man, whose cheeks and the corners of his eyes were flushed from the strain. The murderous rage in the man’s eyes was almost uncontrollable, yet he was forced to gaze upward, clenching his teeth to refuse letting out even a single groan of agony.

What a beautiful sight.

Ling Yanhe’s eyes darkened. Driven by a ghost-like impulse, he reached out and brushed his thumb over the other’s lip, which had been bitten until it was a deep crimson.

The man kneeling before him stiffened. His jaw slackened, letting out a low, melodious, and lingering gasp.

In the next moment, Lin Qinghan was shoved away. He finally curled his body, ignoring the porcelain shards on the floor as he propped himself up with his hands to resist the heart-piercing pain. The room fell into a rare silence, save for the sound of heavy breathing. After a long while, the agonizing pain finally began to recede.

“Get out when you’re done,” a blunt voice commanded from above. The wires binding his hands were retracted. “The Gu poison triggers once every seven days. I hope you’re still alive in seven days to collect the antidote.”

Looking at the various bloody marks on his wrists, Lin Qinghan’s eyes dimmed. He pushed himself up, and ignoring the pain, he used his sleeve to wipe his lips fiercely until the soreness replaced the lingering, phantom itch. He looked down at Ling Yanhe, the mask on his face cracking for the first time.

Ling Yanhe watched the scene with interest, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Lin Qinghan was furious. He was willing to give the other some “sweetness” to move the plot forward, but that didn’t mean he was willing to look this pathetic in front of him.

“We are going to the Sihai Pavilion tomorrow. Don’t forget, Young Master,” Lin Qinghan spat out the words through gritted teeth.

Ling Yanhe nodded, in a rare good mood, and even gave him a smile. “I won’t forget.”

With that, Lin Qinghan left without looking back. As the door slammed shut, Ling Yanhe looked down at the medicine stains on the floor, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing together.

After leaving Ling Yanhe’s room, Lin Qinghan didn’t return for a single glance. He cooked and chatted with Shen Miaomiao and Ye Chaoyan as usual; even Ling Yanhe’s dinner was delivered by Shen Miaomiao. The two girls assumed he was just heartbroken and didn’t dare ask, thinking he needed space.

Only Lin Qinghan knew he was simply still fuming. Even as he lay in bed that night, Ling Yanhe’s playful smile replayed in his mind. He had prepared for half a month, and every step of the negotiation had been flawless—yet he had made that kind of sound during the Gu planting. It was humiliating.

Lin Qinghan’s face was dark.

Current Protagonist Trust Level: -15.

The system’s timely notification pulled Lin Qinghan back to reality. Looking at the number, his mood wasn’t actually that bad. Slow and steady; this was only the first step. Ling Yanhe was definitely going to the martial arts competition at the Sihai Pavilion. He would find a way to screw the guy over once—he couldn’t be the only one suffering. Since they didn’t trust each other anyway, a little sabotage wouldn’t change their dynamic.

Thinking of this, Lin Qinghan’s brow smoothed out. He pulled up his covers and soon drifted into sleep.

“A-Han, A-Yan, are you ready yet? Any later and the matches will be over!” Shen Miaomiao stomped her feet impatiently in the yard.

Ye Chaoyan chuckled and patted her head. “We are going to buy herbs today, not to watch people fight.”

Shen Miaomiao was about to argue when she turned and saw Lin Qinghan and Ling Yanhe. Her expression suddenly became peculiar. Lin Qinghan walked out pushing a cultivation version of a wheelchair he had swindled from the system, carrying a black-faced Ling Yanhe.

“Pfft, what is that?” Shen Miaomiao burst out laughing at Ling Yanhe’s expression.

As expected, Ling Yanhe’s face grew even darker.

“I spent half a month rushing to make this for the Young Master. Do you like it?” Lin Qinghan looked at the grim-faced Ling Yanhe with a beaming smile, intentionally drawing out his words.

“I. Love. It.” Hearing the words squeezed through gritted teeth, Lin Qinghan’s mood improved significantly.

Shen Miaomiao circled the wheelchair repeatedly before giving Lin Qinghan a thumbs up. “A-Han, your craftsmanship is incredible!”

“This is indeed a fine object,” Ye Chaoyan added thoughtfully.

Seeing Ling Yanhe’s face get darker and darker, Lin Qinghan decided to let him off the hook. “I heard Miss Shen mention the matches; the Young Master and I would also like to take a look.”

“Great! A-Yan, can we go see them after buying the herbs?” Shen Miaomiao shook Ye Chaoyan’s sleeve. Since Lin Qinghan had joined in, Ye Chaoyan naturally smiled and nodded.

The Sihai Pavilion wasn’t far from Linyu Village; they arrived in less than half an hour. It happened to be market day. Shen Miaomiao pulled Ye Chaoyan along to browse the stalls, while Lin Qinghan pushed Ling Yanhe close behind.

“There really are a lot of people here,” Lin Qinghan remarked, looking at the various cultivators.

“It only happens once every ten years; naturally, they care,” Ling Yanhe replied coldly.

Lin Qinghan heard the sarcasm but ignored it. The man couldn’t stand up to hit him anyway, so he could say whatever he wanted. He scanned the crowd—sword cultivators, music cultivators, talisman masters, and even demon cultivators were there.

The world was divided into four realms: Immortal, Human, Demon, and Monster. The Immortal and Monster realms had fought since the dawn of time. A century ago, the Demon Lord Wucan was defeated and cast into the abyss, giving the Immortals the upper hand. The Monster realm had initially stayed neutral, but after a civil war twenty years ago, they began interacting with the Immortals for protection. Seeing monster cultivators here proved the importance of these trials.

Most people wore uniform attire with sect-identifying pouches. Lin Qinghan even saw some from the Ye and Shen families. No wonder the girls had disguised themselves. Lin Qinghan and Ling Yanhe were also using disguises and masks.

In the original story, Ye Chaoyan had run away from her family. Though a famous sword cultivator, she wanted to be a medical cultivator. Her family wanted her to join the Lingxiao Sect for sword training, so she fled to practice medicine in secret. Shen Miaomiao had tagged along for the adventure. Originally, Ye Chaoyan would eventually join the trials for Ling Yanhe’s sake—Lin Qinghan wondered if that would change.

Thinking of this, he narrowed his eyes at Ling Yanhe, who was wearing a ghost mask.

“Miss, our Huichun Clinic is not seeing patients today,” a shopkeeper blocked Shen Miaomiao.

“If a pharmacy doesn’t see patients, why call it a pharmacy?” Shen Miaomiao grumbled.

“Is the shopkeeper facing some difficulty?” Ye Chaoyan asked.

The shopkeeper waved them away. “I said no patients. Besides, you two don’t look sick. Go, go, don’t disturb the noble guests inside.”

Shen Miaomiao was instantly furious. “What noble guests are so important that you can’t see the sick?”

“Why are you so stubborn?” The shopkeeper lowered his voice. “It’s the Su and Ling families! Can you afford to offend them?!”

“So what?! The Su and Ling families can’t stop people from seeing a doctor!” Shen Miaomiao ignored him and shouted into the clinic, “Come look! The immortal families are bullying people! They won’t even let people see a doctor; they’re taking lives!”

The street stopped. Everyone turned to the clinic.

“What are you doing?!” The shopkeeper was fuming. Just as he tried to pull her away, people walked out from the clinic.

“You girl, what a bold accusation. When did I ever stop you? Besides, your voice is strong; you don’t look sick. You must be looking for trouble!”

“A-Yuan, it’s fine. Let them go first.”

A man stepped out, dressed in crimson with a crane-embroidered pouch: the second son of the Ling family, Ling Yuan. Clinging to his arm was a delicately speaking woman: Ling Yanhe’s fiancée, the youngest daughter of the Su family, Su Nianhuan.

The crowd grew. These were members of the second and fourth-ranked great families. Everyone wanted to see the drama.

“Hmph, I never said I was the one with the ailment. It is the one behind me.” Shen Miaomiao stepped back, revealing Ling Yanhe.

Ling Yuan sneered. “Wearing a fanged ghost mask like a coward… you must have a guilty conscience.”

Ling Yuan suddenly leaped forward, aiming to rip off the mask. But before he could reach him, a thin wire suddenly snapped across his path. He dodged, but it was too late; the wire sliced off half his sleeve and left a bloody mark on his wrist.

“Pfft, and here I thought you were some noble gentleman. Turns out you just have a ‘short sleeve’ preference?” Shen Miaomiao teased.

The crowd gasped, looking at the masked man in the wheelchair. He hadn’t even moved a finger to sever the sleeve of a Golden Core stage cultivator.

“Who is that? He’s so fast!”

“Ling Yuan is at the early Golden Core stage… is that man at the Nascent Soul stage?!”

Hearing the awe, Lin Qinghan looked down at Ling Yanhe. The man was tapping his finger on the armrest, seemingly in a very good mood.

Seeing this, Lin Qinghan arched an eyebrow and leaned down slightly, whispering into Ling Yanhe’s ear: “The Young Master is quite valiant.”

Ling Yanhe shot him a sidelong glance but said nothing. His tapping, however, became even more leisurely.

Still a child at heart, Lin Qinghan thought.