Transmigrated Into The Arms Of The Heroine Of A Sadistic Novel - Chapter 80

Because Feng Mingchi’s youth preserving elixir had yet to arrive, the three decided to rest for a while on Que Ling Island.

That night, upon entering her room, Qin Changxin set up a barrier to block all interference. She took out the half piece of Blood-soaked White Jade that Feng Mingchi had gifted her, gripped it tightly in her hand, yet hesitated to infuse it with spiritual energy.

“Can I go into your memories with you?” Lin Yanyu asked.

Though the reality she lived in had deviated from the novel she knew, she still grasped the general plot. Maybe she could help.

Qin Changxin was silent for a moment before replying, “But you won’t exist in those memories.”

“It’s fine,” Lin Yanyu smiled. “It’s not like it’d be my first time dying anyway. How about this so I don’t interfere with your memory recovery, when I enter the illusion, I’ll take the form of a cat and won’t speak. If you get scared, just pet me.”

Qin Changxin stayed silent even longer this time. She stroked the jade and suddenly asked, “Yanyu, why would the other me be so afraid?”

“She’s afraid you’ll turn into her,” Lin Yanyu replied. “After all, your past life was built on blood and tears. If you remember everything clearly, you might not be able to tell the past from the present.”

To be honest, Lin Yanyu wasn’t sure even she could stay sane after reclaiming all her memories so vividly. Even in stories about reincarnation, those people always began anew with their memories, not trapped in them.

As for why inheriting Xuan Lin’s memories hadn’t driven her insane probably because Xuan Lin had spent her eighteen years in the demon realm carefree: fighting, training, reading comics, pampered by her patron and attended to by Ye Yaozhi. She’d never endured any true hardship.

But Qin Changxin was different.

Lin Yanyu no longer saw her as a “main character.” She was a living, breathing person capable of fear, hesitation, and joy. Even if recovering her memories was a golden ticket through the Lianzhou arc, Lin Yanyu would rather bear more of the burden herself than let Changxin suffer through that pain again.

Qin Changxin smiled faintly, took her hand, and placed her fingertip on the jade.

“Then come with me,” she said softly. “If I lose myself in those memories… please, call me back.”

When Lin Yanyu nodded, Qin Changxin finally channeled spiritual energy into the jade.

At once, she felt a sharp sting in her fingertip. When she pulled her hand back, a bead of blood glistened at the tip.

The drop fell onto the jade. The faint red mark that had always rested at its center flared into a vivid crimson, spreading like veins across its carved lines.

Lin Yanyu waited, tense. The last time Qin Changxin had only touched the jade, and it had instantly drawn her into the illusion. So why was it taking so long this time?

“Maybe it’s… verifying your identity?” she guessed.

Qin Changxin shook her head, still frowning at the jade.

Lin Yanyu had once heard Feng Funing mention Blood-soaked White Jade during training, but nothing about it storing memories. Now all they could do was wait.

Eventually, every groove of the jade was dyed a deep red yet still, nothing happened.

The two exchanged puzzled glances. Lin Yanyu reached over and touched the jade with the fingertip marked by her Silver Epiphyllum sigil. The moment her skin met the surface, a jolt ran through her, and her soul was wrenched out of her body pulled violently into the jade.

She plunged into a vast, weightless space, only to be caught mid-fall by a pair of arms.

“Only you can see these memories,” said a familiar but eerily cold voice above her. It was Qin Changxin’s, but darker heavier. “If she saw them, she’d lose her mind.”

“Qin Changxin?” Lin Yanyu tried to ask but what came out was a soft “meow.”

She froze, then remembered their agreement: she would appear as a cat. And indeed, the illusion had honored that promise.

Dark Changxin didn’t respond, only stroked her head gently.

“When Qin Jianren was killed by Yang Hengyu,” she began, “I returned to face her. It was a brutal fight. Yang Hengyu was powerful even without possession and with her loyal demon servant, Ye Yaozhi, she was formidable.”

Lin Yanyu nodded or rather, twitched her ears. She remembered this battle well; in the novel, it spanned three entire chapters of combat scenes that readers had complained about.

“In the end, I killed Yang Hengyu,” Dark Changxin said coolly. A sweep of her sleeve revealed a blood-soaked battlefield and two mangled corpses. “Ye Yaozhi died protecting her. When I saw them lying together, I thought… maybe that was for the best.”

Lin Yanyu brushed her paw against her sleeve, a quiet sign of understanding.

Then the scenery shifted to golden rooftops and red walls.

“I went to Lianzhou to confront Xiao Xianyi and to bring you back,” Dark Changxin continued. “The Starfall Sword holds divine power not of this world. Since it could send your soul away, one day it could also call you back.”

Lin Yanyu wanted to ask, So that was your real goal the sword? but as a cat, she could only meow.

“But I paid too high a price for that selfish wish.”

Before Lin Yanyu could react, she saw Zhuang Jingwei impaled through the chest by a thick vine wielded by none other than Feng Xianchen.

The half-demon’s eyes were wild, tears streaking her bloodstained face.

“Xiao Xianyi’s ‘Threadbinding Spell’, Dark Changxin explained. “It stripped every demon there of their minds. Feng Xianchen was half-demon she couldn’t escape. By the time I arrived, this was what I found.”

Lin Yanyu looked down sadly. If the real Changxin had seen this, she truly would have gone mad.

“When we subdued Feng Xianchen, Zhuang Jingwei was already gone,” Dark Changxin said quietly. “She left no final words only clutched Xiao Xianyi’s inner energy in her palm and… died.”

Then came the sight: Feng Xianchen, cradling the corpse of her lover, eyes hollow.

“Thank you for coming… to save us,” she whispered.

“My condolences,” Dark Changxin said flatly.

Feng Xianchen gave a broken laugh. “If you’d come sooner, Jingwei… Jingwei wouldn’t have died…”

Lin Yanyu tried to comfort her raised her paw to touch her hand but it passed right through.

Dark Changxin instead clasped Feng Xianchen’s hand for her. “I was too late,” she murmured. “I couldn’t save her. I’m sorry.” Then her gaze hardened at a hovering shadow nearby. “Zhuang Jingwei’s soul is tainted. She’ll soon become a wraith. I have to purify her.”

“No! She’s not corrupted!” Feng Xianchen screamed. “She’s still here she’s smiling at me!”

But the thing she called “Jingwei” was a snarling spirit, its fingers now grown into hooked talons.

Dark Changxin unsheathed her sword, holding the cat close as she advanced then struck.

“Don’t!”

A white blur lunged before the blade. Blood sprayed.

Feng Xianchen had thrown herself into the strike.

Even though Lin Yanyu had seen countless deaths, the sight of blood gushing like a fountain still made her chest ache. Now she truly understood why the other Changxin had forbidden her counterpart to enter this memory.

Reality was far crueler than the book had described. In her past life, Qin Changxin had slain her lover and her sister and mistakenly killed her dearest friend. Even Lin Yanyu, hardened by missions and death, could barely stand to watch.

But perhaps pain brings clarity. Feng Xianchen’s eyes gradually cleared.

“Changxin… jie…” she whispered weakly. She tried to say more, but only managed to press her Blood-soaked White Jade into Changxin’s hand. “Keep… this… safe…”

Dark Changxin accepted it silently.

Then Feng Xianchen staggered to Zhuang Jingwei’s body, collapsed beside her, and gathered her in her arms. Her own wound tore open completely beyond any healer’s reach.

“It’s not cold anymore, Jingwei,” she murmured, resting her head on her shoulder. “I’ll keep you warm…”

Even as a half demon, she didn’t die right away.

Under the warm sunlight, the two lovers lay entwined in a pool of blood.

Lin Yanyu could only sigh heavily in Dark Changxin’s arms.