The Villainess Always Tries to Seduce Me - Chapter 6

Then, she timidly whispered a word of thanks.

The shock in Bai Fenghe’s eyes quickly transformed into killing intent. Using her sleeve as cover, she flipped her palm, condensing a purple light sword. The sword trembled with a faint hum, vibrating in sync with her hostility.

Yun Chuanzhi could naturally hear it. She raised her hand to pick up her bowl and chopsticks, her eyes slightly closed as she braced herself, waiting.

With a sharp whoosh, the light sword flew from Bai Fenghe’s palm. The cold wind it kicked up whipped Yun Chuanzhi’s hair before grazing her throat and ruthlessly severing the hem of the skirt she was holding.

“You little slave, you certainly have a lot of nerve,” Bai Fenghe spoke softly. Her voice was ethereal, like a distant flute amidst the clouds, betraying no hint of emotion.

“In this world, there isn’t a second person who dares to play tricks on me, Bai Fenghe.”

Yun Chuanzhi didn’t speak. She gripped her chopsticks tightly, head bowed, her body feigning a slight tremble. The woman leaned down, her hand, supple and smooth as grease, lightly brushed over Yun Chuanzhi’s face, leaving a tingling sensation as if flirting.

“Very good, I like it very much.” She lifted a finger slightly, wiping away a stray tear remaining at the corner of Yun Chuanzhi’s eye.

“Ling Shui.” Bai Fenghe stood up lazily. Outside the door, Ling Shui appeared by her side in an instant.

“My old injuries haven’t fully healed, and my body is weary. Assist me to the Physician Immortal’s place for a while.” Bai Fenghe covered her lips with her slender fingers, looking exhausted. “From now on, this little immortal servant, Cui, will follow you. You must instruct her well.”

Ling Shui softly gave her assent, her eyes sweeping over Yun Chuanzhi, who was sitting on the floor.

A fragrant scent drifted past Yun Chuanzhi’s nose and gradually faded. As the wooden doors closed, she was the only one left in the sleeping palace. She immediately dropped her terrified expression and began to eat her meal unhurriedly.

Her acting skills were about on par with this scum of a Sect Leader; in certain situations, a bit of a performance was necessary to move things along more effectively.

By deliberately provoking Bai Fenghe just now, she had confirmed her suspicions: Bai Fenghe was indeed on guard against her, though the reason remained unknown.

Even if Bai Fenghe already knew she was a victim of “soul-offering,” it wouldn’t explain why she was being so patient. Yun Chuanzhi didn’t believe that, with her current useless body, she could pose any threat to the powerful Bai Fenghe.

Regardless of the reason, her life was spared for now. Although she had been prepared to die, being alive, especially in the spiritually rich Qianyuan Realm, wasn’t a bad thing.

Thinking of this, Yun Chuanzhi’s heart grew cheerful. She used her chopsticks to taste a dish on the table, and her joy reached its peak.

The crisp texture of the green vegetables exploded in her mouth, the fresh aroma of food enveloping her senses. Back in Wujian City, one could never eat such fresh vegetables; the finest food there was merely some thick liquid sealed in glass bottles.

Not to mention the sizzling, oily Dongpo pork, the sweet honey water, and the fragrant, soft osmanthus cakes. Yun Chuanzhi kept her head down and swept through the entire table of food, stopping only when her stomach was bulging.

Afterward, she lay down comfortably on the floor. The afternoon sun shone through the window lattice, warming the wooden floorboards and chasing away any trace of the spring chill.

Accompanied by the rustling of leaves outside, a few petals drifted into the hall, one landing right between her eyebrows. She reached out to pick it, looking at the pale, beautiful color on her fingertips, feeling a sense of dazed unreality, as if in a dream.

Mount Buxi was quite peaceful; at least here, only Bai Fenghe wanted her dead.

Though this one person was fierce enough to equal ten.

The surroundings were quiet and warm, and with a full stomach, sleepiness soon took over. Yun Chuanzhi curled up and drifted into a dreamland where everything was harmonious.

By the time she was awakened by the sound of the door opening, the dappled sunlight on the floor had already snuck up the wall.

The visitor was Ling Shui. Looking at Yun Chuanzhi, who stood up yawning with a satisfied face, the corners of her mouth twitched downward. She said coldly, “You little slave, you really are bold. Are you treating the Sect Leader’s sleeping palace as an inn?”

She glanced at Yun Chuanzhi’s dirty clothes and tossed a bundle at her. “Inside are your changes of clothes as a personal immortal servant. Go change first.”

She then cleared away the mess of Yun Chuanzhi’s leftovers and led her out.

The two wound through the twisting corridors outside a few times before stopping in front of a wooden door painted with two red carps. Ling Shui pushed the door open. “This is your wing; mine is right next door. If you need anything, you can shake the wind chime at the door.”

“Usually, if you hear the wind chime ring, it means the Sect Leader is summoning you. You must rush to her side immediately without delay,” Ling Shui instructed.

“And if I’m delayed?” Yun Chuanzhi asked, testing her luck.

Ling Shui looked at her as if she were an idiot and said, “You’re welcome to try; you’ll find out then.”

“Go change your clothes. After changing, you need to report for duty.” Ling Shui turned to leave, but unexpectedly, someone tugged at the corner of her robe. She looked back with an unpleasant expression.

“Um, Sister Ling Shui,” the girl before her gave a bright smile. “I have a few things I want to ask about.”

The girl’s clothes were tattered and worn, her hem covered in gray burrs and her shoulders stuck with a few withered leaves, but her eyes were exceptionally bright, like a flickering starlight, shining and vivid.

“What is it?” Ling Shui withdrew her gaze.

“Come inside.” Yun Chuanzhi glanced left and right down the corridor, then pulled Ling Shui into the room and closed the door behind her.

Ling Shui bit her red lip, initially wanting to get angry, but remembering Bai Fenghe’s words, she barely endured it. She pulled her white sleeve from the girl’s hand and shook it thrice. “What is it?”

Entering the room, Yun Chuanzhi picked up a teacup from the table and handed it to Ling Shui, looking perfectly at ease. She said with a smile, “I want to ask, as someone with slave status, how am I different from all of you?”

This was the question she was most curious about since arriving in the Qianyuan Realm. In Wujian City, everything was determined by martial strength; only the strong could seize resources. There was no such thing as immortal status or slave status, or high and low classes.

But since arriving at Mount Buxi, she had been insulted many times for her “slave status,” so she was naturally curious.

Ling Shui put down the teacup, her clear eyes falling on Yun Chuanzhi without asking further questions.

“The Qianyuan Realm places great importance on spiritual veins. Those born into immortal cultivation families are always more sought after than ordinary people. Those with spiritual veins also stand higher than those without.”

“And those marked with a slave brand are despised by the cultivation world. Most of them have no spiritual veins and have miserable life stories; they are even viewed as livestock. Even if they are taken to a human trafficker to be sold, they won’t fetch a good price.”

So that’s how it is. Yun Chuanzhi nodded. No wonder everyone she had met since waking up avoided her like the plague with looks of disgust. It turned out that in the Qianyuan Realm, slave status was so insignificant.

Cui Ergou’s parents had sold her into slavery for a few copper coins and had her branded, leading to such a miserable fate. It was truly disheartening.

“When immortal servants of Mount Buxi ascend the mountain, they use immortal arts to hide their slave brands. This was a rule left by Sect Leader Mingcun when he was alive, intended to quell this injustice,” Ling Shui shook her head. “But it has had little effect.”

She flicked a finger, sending out a stream of air. When the breeze brushed past Yun Chuanzhi’s forehead, it felt slightly warm.

“See for yourself.” Ling Shui handed a bronze mirror to Yun Chuanzhi. Yun Chuanzhi took a look and saw that a crimson pattern had emerged on her previously smooth forehead.

Before she could see what the pattern was, Ling Shui waved her hand to hide the slave brand again, her expression returning to its cold state. “Alright, now that you know, come with me. If you are delayed in your work and punished by the Sect Leader, I will have to suffer along with you.”

“Yes,” Yun Chuanzhi muttered.

Half an hour later, the two were standing in Bai Fenghe’s sleeping palace again. By now, the dappled shadows of the sunlight had climbed onto the roof beams, looking more and more like molten gold.

“First, wipe this floor. The Sect Leader likes to walk barefoot, so the ground must be spotless.”

“Why?” Yun Chuanzhi looked at the floor beneath her feet, which was as shiny as if it had been oiled. “Mount Buxi is full of cultivators. With just a wave of a hand, why is manual labor needed to wipe it?”

“The various cultivators focus on their cultivation and naturally won’t bother with these trivial matters. Most immortal servants lack sufficient spiritual power and can only wipe it by hand,” Ling Shui replied emotionlessly. “From now on, as the Sect Leader’s personal immortal servant, these are the tasks you will do.”

Yun Chuanzhi suddenly felt a bit of regret.

The Fengchun Pavilion had three floors. Bai Fenghe’s bedroom alone was several times larger than a normal house. She probably couldn’t finish wiping it even if she worked from dawn until midnight.

“Also, every morning upon waking, the Sect Leader must drink a cup of clear spring water from Muli Divine Peak, which must be steamed with the freshest ice lotus petals. For washing her face, she uses the ‘rootless water’ from the summit of Mount Buxi’s main peak that hasn’t melted for a thousand years. She eats freshly steamed Poria osmanthus cakes. Every day at 11 AM, she needs a bowl of ice curd, a bowl of beauty nourishing soup, and a bottle of camellia skin oil sent from Qionghuang City.”

Ling Shui’s mouth opened and closed as she talked non-stop. Yun Chuanzhi didn’t want to hear another word. She stood there, a storm raging in her heart.

Haha.

This isn’t serving a Sect Leader; it’s clearly serving an ancestor.

Maybe I should just kill myself.

While her mind was wandering, Ling Shui had finished. She stopped, her throat dry, and confirmed seriously, “Did you remember all that?”

“Mhm, mhm.” Yun Chuanzhi smiled.

Ling Shui was clearly relieved; presumably, she didn’t want to explain it all again. She then handed a fragrant handkerchief to Yun Chuanzhi. “Since you’ve remembered, go do it. Wipe the floor clean first, and be careful not to be punished when the Sect Leader returns.”

Yun Chuanzhi agreed with a string of “mhms.” As soon as Ling Shui left, she tossed the handkerchief aside and lay down right where she was.

Since the floor wouldn’t be finished anyway, she might as well save her strength first.

The sunlight on the beams gradually turned a dim yellow. The huge window was like an unrolled picture scroll, displaying the scenery outside. A giant red sun was half-hidden by thin clouds, and a long line of birds flying past the clouds looked like a few drops of ink on paper.

Bai Fenghe might be a bad person, but her taste was indeed good. The carvings on the window lattice were like a scroll, featuring layer upon layer of cloud patterns.

Yun Chuanzhi fell asleep again. In her dream, Bai Fenghe’s name was being called over and over in her ear, noisy and clamorous.

Then, her cheek felt as if it had fallen into an ice cellar. Yun Chuanzhi opened her eyes in horror, only to realize it wasn’t a dream. Someone was indeed facing her, calling out “Bai Fenghe” repeatedly.

Or perhaps it wasn’t a person. Yun Chuanzhi shook off her sleepiness and stared at the pitch-black iron puppet that was currently clinging to her chest.

In Mount Buxi, which so highly favored immortal arts, how could a puppet exist? Yun Chuanzhi pursed her lips and looked it up and down.

“You immortal servant, hurry, hurry and save Bai Fenghe!” The puppet’s cold, small hands tightly gripped the flesh on Yun Chuanzhi’s collarbone.

“She’s going to die!”

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