The Vicious Beauty Faked His Death Three Times [Transmigration] - Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Sharp Edge

“The two of you—honestly! You scared me to death just now. Those two clearly have high cultivation, yet you two rushed in to challenge them one-on-one?! You really don’t treat us as friends at all, especially you!”

Shen Miaomiao rambled incessantly while clutching the herbs the shopkeeper had given as compensation. At the end, her voice rose as she suddenly spun around and pointed straight at Lin Qinghan.

“My apologies. The Young Master and I didn’t mean to hide the truth. Half a month ago, on the way to the Sihai Pavilion, we unexpectedly fell off a cliff. After being rescued by you two, the Young Master remained unconscious for a long time, so I didn’t dare explain haphazardly. After he woke up yesterday, we planned to come clean today after checking the rankings, but we didn’t expect this trouble to arise. Please, ladies, try to understand.”

Seeing her interrogative stance, Lin Qinghan quickly raised his hands and poured out his fabricated excuse. Finally, his eyes curved into a regretful smile.

Looking at his downcast eyes filled with apology and entreaty, Shen Miaomiao’s reprimands were forcibly swallowed back. She pointed at him for a long while before finally flinging her hand down and turning her back to him.

“You’re just making excuses!”

Lin Qinghan looked at her huffy silhouette and chuckled softly. He quickly added, “How about I cook tonight to make amends to you both?”

“I want braised eggplant, and make a serving of honey-glazed tofu for A-Yan, or don’t even think about us forgiving you today!”

“Alright.” At this, a fitting smile bloomed on Lin Qinghan’s face.

After soothing Shen Miaomiao, he restrained his expression and looked toward Ye Chaoyan. Ever since the scene at the clinic, she had been walking quietly by their side. Though she wasn’t usually a talkative person, she was different from the mindless Shen Miaomiao. Ye Chaoyan was the female lead—the gentle, big sister type with high IQ and EQ. Although her favorability toward him hadn’t changed, he felt as if she had seen through something.

Knock, knock—

The crisp sound of knuckles rapping on wood interrupted his thoughts. He looked down at Ling Yanhe, not particularly wanting to pay him any mind.

Knock, knock—

The tapping sounded again. Seeing that the man intended to keep going until he was acknowledged, Lin Qinghan finally reached his limit and leaned down to hear what he wanted.

“Shrimp and fish maw thick soup.”

Lin Qinghan froze for a moment before he realized the meaning. This man is ordering food?!

“What’s wrong?” Shen Miaomiao’s confused voice came over. He could also feel Ye Chaoyan’s gaze shifting toward him.

“Is that a problem?” Seeing the playfulness and provocation in Ling Yanhe’s narrow eyes, Lin Qinghan would have to be stupider than a pig not to understand the intent.

The man was retaliating.

“Of course not,” Lin Qinghan said with a curved brow, though there wasn’t a trace of a smile in the depths of his eyes.

This man was exactly as the book described—vengeful over the smallest grievance. Having dealt with Ling Yanhe, Lin Qinghan straightened up, his gaze turning cold. Ling Yanhe, meanwhile, enjoyed his “wheelchair service” in a quite excellent mood.

Longhu Villa

Ling Yuan was pacing back and forth in front of a door. His hand rose and fell; after several attempts, he jerked his hand back and stopped at the frame, hesitating before finally withdrawing.

“Huan’er, don’t worry. I’ll go to Mother tonight to find a spiritual tool. We will definitely win tomorrow.”

Recalling the vow he had made and Su Nianhuan’s teary-eyed nod, Ling Yuan snapped his eyes open, pushed the door, and walked in.

The room was decadently luxurious: gold ornaments everywhere, golden wine cups inlaid with pearls, curtains of silver thread strung with precious gems, and a golden phoenix screen embroidered with gold wire. It was clear the owner was of high status. This wasn’t Ling Yuan’s first time in his mother’s room, but every visit left him stunned by the new treasures—especially since this was just one of her idle villas.

But today, he had no time for the decor. His heart was fixed on the figure behind the screen.

“Mother.” Ling Yuan bowed low, calling out respectfully.

The figure moved. The sound of footsteps pulled at Ling Yuan’s heartstrings. He didn’t dare look up and lowered his head even further. The footsteps stopped.

“Kneel.” At the woman’s authoritative voice, Ling Yuan dropped to his knees almost instinctively.

“Do you know your mistake?”

Ling Yuan’s heart skipped a beat, a cold sweat breaking out on his back. He replied with a trembling voice, “This child was incompetent and shamed the Ling family. But it was because those two used insidious and crafty tricks! If not for that, I would have beaten them until they begged for mercy!”

The woman said nothing. Ling Yuan’s heart sank, his body bowing even lower.

“Ling Yanhe is not dead. The Gu worm in the spy I placed beside him was devoured by the Symbiotic Sub-Gu,” the woman said suddenly.

“How is that possible?! Such a high cliff, how could he not—” Ling Yuan looked up sharply. Seeing the displeasure in her eyes, his shock vanished instantly. He cut himself off and lowered his head again in a submissive posture.

The woman sneered. “If he returns, never mind your marriage—neither of us will have a place to stand in the Ling family. But… he won’t be coming back.”

Ling Yuan shuddered at her vicious tone.

“Yuan’er, this family will eventually be yours, but you must show some backbone.” She lifted her eyelids, looking indifferently at the shivering Ling Yuan.

Ling Yuan bowed until he almost touched the floor. “This child will win this time. But the Wan-Hua Blade Mother gave me was broken by that slave… I… I lack a spiritual tool.”

Clang—

A token was tossed in front of him. It bore the crane pattern of the Ling family—the key to the treasury.

Ling Yuan was overjoyed. He then added, “Sister Su is injured; I fear her match tomorrow is in peril. I wish to pick a tool for her as well. Mother always says I should get closer to her, and I believe this is the perfect opportunity.”

After a silence, the woman said, “Go.”

Ling Yuan thanked her profusely, grabbed the token, and prepared to leave.

“Only victory is allowed. No defeat.”

The authoritative voice followed him. Ling Yuan gripped the token tightly and gave his guarantee, “With these tools, I won’t lose. Mother, just wait for good news!”

The door closed. The woman sat by the bed, motionless for a long time.

“Fool.”

The Next Day, Sihai Pavilion

Usually, only a fixed group stayed at the Sihai Pavilion’s arena. Today, the crowd nearly matched the turnout of the first day of the trials. Nearly seventy percent of the people had come. Their goal was singular: to see if those bold enough to challenge the top ten were ignorant fools or powerful warriors.

“If anything feels wrong, don’t push yourself,” Shen Miaomiao urged Lin Qinghan.

Since there were two challengers, the matches followed the order of the challenged. The first match: Lin Qinghan versus the ninth-ranked Su Nianhuan. The victory condition was simple—the winner was the one who could beat the opponent into a state where they couldn’t continue.

“It’s fine. I won’t lose.” Lin Qinghan was still wearing a mask, but he had swapped the fox one for a plain half-mask. He had thrown the previous one away the moment he got back to his room.

“Do not be careless,” Ye Chaoyan said with a frown.

Lin Qinghan chuckled and looked at the worried pair. “Do you ladies truly think I will lose?”

They fell silent. They had witnessed his strength yesterday; today’s match shouldn’t be difficult.

“You’ll win, but be careful.” Shen Miaomiao looked at Su Nianhuan across the arena. “I feel like they’ll use dirty tricks.”

Lin Qinghan looked at the pink-clad Su Nianhuan. He knew better than anyone—she wasn’t likely to use dirty tricks; she definitely would. In the original text, even the near-Nascent Soul stage Ye Chaoyan had struggled against the early Golden Core Su Nianhuan because of them.

“It’s starting,” Ling Yanhe said deeply.

Lin Qinghan looked up. Silver light flickered at the edges of the arena. The barrier was forming. He stepped up and exchanged salutations with Su Nianhuan.

“Lin Han.” “Su Nianhuan.” “Please.”

The barrier sealed. Instantly, Su Nianhuan vanished. Her footwork was erratic and swift. In a blink, she had launched three lethal strikes.

“Hiss, Miss Su’s ‘Flower Goddess Step’ seems to have improved. It used to be tricky but not this fast. One could usually find a flaw, but now it’s impenetrable.”

“Not just the footwork. Her cultivation has risen.”

Everyone looked at the speaker. “Usually, Miss Su relies on confusion because her stamina is lacking. But she’s already thrown several moves with eighty percent power. If her cultivation hasn’t risen, I can’t think of another explanation.”

Shen Miaomiao grew tense. Ling Yanhe narrowed his eyes. Although Lin Qinghan was only defending, he was doing so with ease. Winning wouldn’t be hard. A predictable match was boring. His gaze fixed on Lin Qinghan, and his finger twitched slightly.

On stage, Su Nianhuan launched a killing move toward Lin Qinghan’s throat. He blocked it with a suddenly-appearing black bone fan. But then, as if jolted by spiritual energy or something else, Lin Qinghan’s brow furrowed, his body bent slightly, and he was forced back two steps.

The crowd gasped.

“I guess this demon slave is nothing special. He can’t do anything but defend.”

“Boring. Let’s get this over with.”

“Defending forever won’t work. Miss Su has this.”

Amidst the noise, no one noticed Lin Qinghan shooting a look off-stage. For the first time, his cold eyes were filled with rage.

Ling Yanhe arched an eyebrow. He had successfully torn a piece of the mask from a man who was always so good at faking, revealing the unfriendly face beneath. Nothing was more amusing.

The heckling grew louder. Every time Lin Qinghan blocked, the crowd jeered. Shen Miaomiao was stomping her feet, wanting to fight them all.

“Naturally! Miss Su’s strength is obvious,” Ling Yuan laughed smugly from the side. “Her opponent only relies on cheap tricks. Why don’t you call it off? Your servant might still have a chance to live.”

The crowd turned to the man in the wheelchair. “Stop your boasting! The outcome isn’t decided yet!” Shen Miaomiao snapped back.

Ling Yuan laughed even more wildly, stood up, and shoved her aside. He walked up to Ling Yanhe, his voice venomous. “Yesterday I was careless and let you live another day. Today is your end. If you kneel and kowtow three times, I might consider leaving you a whole corpse.”

The man in the wheelchair leisurely picked up a tea cup, seemingly indifferent. He lifted his mask slightly and took a sip. As Ling Yuan prepared to explode, he met those deep, pond-like eyes through the ghost mask.

A bottomless murderous intent doused Ling Yuan like ice water. His words caught in his throat. By the time he recovered, he was drenched in cold sweat.

The man before him seemed bored. He set the cup down and spat out a single word.

“Begone.”

At the same time, the crowd gasped as the arena’s formation shattered. Ling Yuan turned around, panic-stricken, and froze. Cold sweat slid down his temple.

On the stage, Su Nianhuan sat slumped on the floor, her expression vacant. Her sword had been flung off the stage. Her goddess image was shattered; she looked like a pathetic loser.

The man opposite her was the complete opposite. Clad in black, without a speck of dust on him, he leaned down and pressed the tip of his black bone fan against Su Nianhuan’s throat.

“You lost.”

Lin Qinghan looked down at the indignant, furious Su Nianhuan. As she tried to grab a tool to rush him again, he narrowed his eyes and pulled the fan back slightly. “I don’t wish to hurt people.”

He ignored her, closed his fan, and turned toward the crowd. His eyes were terrifyingly cold, yet the audience erupted into a thunderous cheer because of that very gaze.

Lin Qinghan scanned the crowd until he saw the lazy figure in the corner. His cold eyes finally showed a different emotion. He walked rapidly through the crowd, ignoring the praise. He only had eyes for Ling Yanhe.

“You scared me…” Shen Miaomiao tried to pat his shoulder but was startled by his aura. She froze. The Lin Qinghan she knew was like gentle water—never like this… like a Yama coming for a soul.

Ling Yanhe watched the aggressive approach and calmly poured a cup of tea. Unfortunately, the tea wasn’t delivered.

Lin Qinghan stepped forward and grabbed Ling Yanhe’s collar. His beautiful eyes were brimming with fury. Tea spilled from the cup, dripping down Ling Yanhe’s hand.

“Tsk.” Ling Yanhe dissatisfiedly set the cup down and took out a handkerchief to wipe the tea from his hand.

This act added fuel to the fire in Lin Qinghan’s heart. He looked coldly at the man, his voice laced with rage: “It was you.”

Ling Yanhe chuckled, tossed the handkerchief onto the table, and reached out to hook Lin Qinghan’s lapel, pulling him closer.

Their masks collided again. That perverse voice rang out alongside the crisp clink:

“Mhm. Did you like it?”

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