The Villainess Always Tries to Seduce Me - Chapter 16

She moved too quickly. By the time Yun Chuanzhi reacted, it was already over. The woman took a step back, and the bright sun she had been blocking spilled over Yun Chuanzhi’s shoulders once again.

“In consideration of you obtaining this last sliver of divine power for me, I shall waive your whipping,” Bai Fenghe said, comfortably stretching her shoulders. “Thank you.”

With that, her body vanished beneath the azure sky. Cheng Jinshu, who had witnessed everything, gripped her staff and cautiously stepped forward.

“Are you, alright?”

“I’m fine.” Yun Chuanzhi shook her head. She wasn’t a teenage girl anymore; she had enough resilience to handle this.

After all, she was facing Bai Fenghe, a notorious villain. How could she have expected her to open her spiritual root so easily? She should have known better.

Fine. Whatever. Let the world burn.

She might as well go back to her room and sleep.

Fortunately, Cheng Jinshu was a kind soul. Seeing how Yun Chuanzhi had been schemed against, she didn’t ask further questions and even used her wind-riding technique to send her back to Gundan Peak. However, because she was injured, the return trip was even more unstable than the arrival.

Yun Chuanzhi tumbled through the clouds a hundred times. By the time she landed at the entrance of Fengchun Pavilion, she was so dizzy she didn’t even have the strength to say thank you. She went to her room, fell onto her bed, and didn’t bother with anything else.

This sleep was long, yet incredibly unsettled. Her dreams were a chaotic mess, mostly consisting of old memories from Wujian City that she had long since forgotten.

The sky was filled with dark clouds, and murky green air currents mixed in the atmosphere. The heavens, which should have been blue, looked like a piece of moldy tofu, floating stinking overhead.

A massive downpour of acid rain had just ceased, and the old bloodstains on the ground had been corroded into black. Everywhere she looked were ruins and broken walls, except for one relatively intact temple, which was crowded with shivering people.

At that time, Yun Chuanzhi was still a child, huddled in her mother’s warm embrace behind a collapsed Buddha statue. She held a cold, mud-stained bun in her hands. Her mouth remained open for a long time, but she couldn’t bear to take a bite.

Because so many people were squeezed inside, the temple reeked. If one looked closely, one could see crushed limbs swept into the corners.

In Wujian City, no one believed in Buddha, and no one prayed to the gods. Gods and Buddhas could not redeem them; they couldn’t even see them.

“Hurry and eat, Yun’er, before someone steals it away,” her mother whispered from behind. Her voice was hoarse, and she had clearly just been crying; tears continued to roll down.

Yun Chuanzhi bit down. The hard bun was so tough it felt like her teeth would break, but because she was starving, the taste was still sweet in her mouth.

She took a larger bite. Her mother’s tears fell one by one onto her fuzzy head, soaking into her hair.

“Mother, half of this is for you.” Yun Chuanzhi didn’t forget to tear off the larger portion and shove it into the woman’s hand. With her mouth full of bun, she mumbled, “Where is Father?”

Her mother remained silent but cried even harder. Yun Chuanzhi then recalled in a daze that her father had been beaten to death by a few thugs just to get her this bun.

Now that the acid rain had fallen, she didn’t even know where his body had gone.

Little Yun Chuanzhi didn’t know what sorrow was yet; being able to fill her stomach was a blessing. But the grown-up Yun Chuanzhi knew. As the dappled moonlight fell on the bed, the girl huddled under the covers, sobbing in her sleep until she could barely breathe.

Perhaps because she cried so hard in the dream, Yun Chuanzhi felt as if a stone were pressing on her chest when she woke the next morning. She touched the damp bamboo pillow near her ear and gave a bitter smile.

The faint morning light broke through the window cracks, scattering into the room. Outside, two birds were singing to each other. Once the sun came out, it would be another lively day.

She hadn’t dreamed of her childhood in a very long time. She hadn’t even remembered it back in Wujian City. Why was she becoming so sentimental now that she was reborn in the Qianyuan Realm?

Maybe this happens once someone gets comfortable, Yun Chuanzhi thought. She gave a massive yawn and swung her feet into her shoes.

Seeing the light, it was already past 5:00 AM. She needed to hurry to Bai Fenghe’s door to avoid more trouble. As she bent over to put on her shoes, she suddenly remembered yesterday’s events.

The divine power she had worked so hard for, intended to open her spiritual root, had been stolen by Bai Fenghe just like that.

As it turned out, resentment doesn’t dissipate with time; instead, it festers. Looking at the spots of light on the floor, Yun Chuanzhi’s anger surged. She imagined the light was Bai Fenghe’s face and stomped on it twice with all her might.

Then she turned around and flopped back onto the bed.

You can’t bully people like this. I’m quitting. Let whoever wants to serve this piece of scum do it!

At the same time, inside Bai Fenghe’s sleeping palace at Fengchun Pavilion.

The large window was wide open. A few branches of early peach blossoms peeked inside. The wind blew a few petals onto the polished floor, yet the flowers on the branches didn’t seem to lessen, crowding together in delicate clusters.

If one looked through the window, the woman’s bare back blended with the blossoms; both were tender and ivory-white.

Since it had been warm yesterday, she was dressed lightly, wearing only a pale pink undergarment. Her long arm hung over the side of the bed, her fingertip touching a petal that had landed there.

That petal gained a touch of immortal luck because of her. Moving without wind, it floated out the window, transformed into a spirit invisible to mortals, and hopped back into the mountain forest.

Bai Fenghe was awakened by the sound of the spirit escaping. Her willow-leaf eyes opened lazily, the pale pupils clearing as she slowly rose.

“Come,” she spoke.

There was no reply for a long time. Her brow furrowed in dissatisfaction. Ever since that Cui Ergou had come to serve in her room, she hadn’t once been able to drink tea upon waking in the morning.

Dissatisfied, Bai Fenghe stepped onto the floor barefoot. She casually picked up the outer robe from the screen and draped it over her shoulders. Then, with a light lift of her palm, bang, the sleeping Yun Chuanzhi, who was still under her covers, appeared before her.

Yun Chuanzhi knew she would be summoned. Waking up abruptly, she didn’t feel surprised; she simply rolled over, giving Bai Fenghe the cold shoulder.

Bai Fenghe froze at her actions.

“What time is it? Why are you still sleeping?” Bai Fenghe frowned.

She had lived for a hundred years and had never seen such a bold servant. This was certainly an eye-opening experience.

When Yun Chuanzhi didn’t speak, Bai Fenghe truly became angry. Her voice turned sharply cold. “You dare ignore me? Do you seek death, or do you think I truly won’t kill you?”

“Then just kill me,” Yun Chuanzhi spoke. She kept her eyes tightly shut, her body curled into a ball, clutching her thin quilt.

Bai Fenghe looked at the slender neck exposed between the strands of hair, then at the extremely thin waist. The tiny girl seemed truly determined to die; there wasn’t a hint of a tremble in her voice.

She looked very composed, and very pitiable.

Bai Fenghe didn’t often find people pitiable. Many people would act piteous to save their lives. No matter how tragically they cried or how sorrowful their stories were, she could see through their hypocrisy.

But the girl curled up before her actually made her feel a spark of compassion.

“Stop acting. I don’t have time for your willfulness.” Irritation rose in Bai Fenghe’s heart. She reached out and pulled back, and Yun Chuanzhi’s body was suddenly snatched up by invisible ropes, flying through the air.

After a spin, her neck landed in Bai Fenghe’s palm, held loosely.

The woman’s fragrance flooded Yun Chuanzhi’s nose, but the fingers on her neck didn’t tighten. “You are but a tiny servant. To dare throw a temper with me, have I been too merciful to you?”

Yun Chuanzhi hadn’t originally been throwing a temper; she just simply didn’t want to live. Now that it was being emphasized, she suddenly remembered that in both of her lives, she had never truly vented her frustration at anyone.

And Bai Fenghe’s actions yesterday were very much worth making a scene over.

So, she sniffled, and tears burst from her eyes. Perhaps because she had cried for so long in her dream last night, the sorrow was easily awakened. The tears were inexhaustible, dripping down onto Bai Fenghe’s hand.

The sticky, wet sensation made Bai Fenghe’s heart skip a beat. She instinctively let go, watching as the bold girl slid to the floor and began to wail behind her hands once again.

“If you keep making noise, believe me, I truly will kill you!”

“I’m going to do it!”

“I,” Bai Fenghe’s words lost their strength halfway through. Only one wet, slender finger remained raised in a threat. After a moment, she could only let it drop.

There was no use threatening someone who wasn’t afraid to die. For the first time, Bai Fenghe felt at a loss, biting her red lip in frustration.

Ling Shui, hearing the commotion outside, couldn’t help but knock. Bai Fenghe took all her anger out on her: “Get lost! Do not disturb me!”

Silence fell outside the door. Bai Fenghe’s head throbbed from Yun Chuanzhi’s crying. She waved her hand to send her out, but once again, the immortal art failed on the girl.

Ever since this little servant appeared, everything had been chaotic, yet she couldn’t be touched. Bai Fenghe had no choice but to suppress her rage and lean down, using her hand to cover the girl’s lips. The crying finally muffled.

Tears covered the girl’s face, and her long lashes were heavy with droplets.

The girl’s breath and the damp moisture sprayed onto her palm. Bai Fenghe suddenly felt an itch in her heart. Her free hand pulled her collar tight, covering the rising and falling of her chest.

“Fine, stop your crying,” she sighed in resignation.

“It’s just a spiritual root, isn’t it? I’ll open it for you myself.”

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