When the Immortal Venerable Picked-Up the Demon Cub - Chapter 3

“Even though you meant well, how could you be so harsh with the child?” Zhu Ning asked, pointing to the bruise forming on Lin Xiayan’s forehead. The delicate skin, already tender, now showed a vivid blue mark, making onlookers wince in sympathy.

Yet Lin Xiayan didn’t cry or fuss. Her small face remained icy-cold, her pale, dusty hands slowly unfisting to clutch the hem of Zhu Ning’s skirt again. She narrowed her eyes, studying the woman shielding her.

Zhu Ning wore white robes embroidered with golden thread. Her fair skin and pristine clothes seemed to blend with the snowy landscape, while the dim candlelight in the dilapidated temple accentuated her ethereal beauty.

The loose-fitting Daoist robes couldn’t conceal her slender figure; instead, they accentuated her delicate, almost fragile, grace. Zhu Ning’s expression remained impassive, colder than the surrounding snow.

Despite her icy demeanor, she possessed a pair of bewitching peach blossom eyes, their corners curving slightly even when not smiling. Her long, black hair cascaded loosely around her, as pure and untainted as a celestial maiden newly descended to the mortal realm.

Truly deserving of being called the foremost beauty of the cultivation world. Lin Xiayan averted her gaze, lowering her head to focus intently on the tips of her shoes. Zhu Ning’s impassioned defense filled her ears, yet her heart couldn’t help but marvel at Zhu Ning’s exceptional beauty.

“What does this Immortal Venerable intend to do with me?” the Daoist Priest asked, resigned to his fate. Having already offended her, he could only maintain his dignity. He closed his eyes, awaiting Zhu Ning’s judgment.

But no judgment came. When he finally opened his eyes, he found Zhu Ning already seated, resting. She glanced at him coldly and said, “Get lost.”

The Daoist Priest wondered if he had misheard. Was this Immortal Venerable Zhu, the one who remained controlled even if Mount Tai collapsed before her was an imposter? How could she utter such a crude word?

Seeing his shocked expression, Zhu Ning inwardly cursed. Was that OOC (Out of Character?

But since the words had already left her lips, she steeled herself and continued, “Take these villagers and leave. This Venerable One will rest in this dilapidated temple tonight and depart for Yun Cang Mountain tomorrow. Remember this: never act like this again.”

Now that sounded like Immortal Venerable Zhu. The Daoist Priest didn’t linger. He quickly urged the villagers to depart. The torch-bearing villagers, who had never wanted to offend Zhu Ning in the first place, seized this opportunity to leave in haste. The dilapidated temple emptied once more, as if the entire affair had been nothing more than a farce.

The beggar emerged from the corner, his face still wearing a curious expression, but his tone now carried genuine respect. “So you’re the Sect Leader of Yun Cang Mountain? No wonder you look like an immortal. My eyes deceived me. I didn’t recognize you earlier.”

Zhu Ning looked at him with a puzzled expression. Despite his tattered clothes, the beggar’s every gesture carried the refined air of a scholar, completely at odds with the appearance of a beggar who spent his days begging.

“May I ask who you are?” Zhu Ning inquired. “Your accent doesn’t sound local.” When the villagers had been shouting earlier, she had noticed the subtle differences in their accents. Having arrived in this world through transmigration, she had learned to be extra observant, and accents were one such detail.

The beggar didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he tucked his hands deeper into his pockets, slouching back into his corner, his eyes half-closed, exuding an air of mysterious profundity. “As expected of Immortal Venerable Zhu. I am indeed not from around here. I fled from a neighboring kingdom to escape the war. The fighting has been relentless, devastating those of us living on the border. My family was torn apart. I lost my children. Now, alone, I simply drift through life…”

Zhu Ning’s heart grew heavy as she gazed at the beggar for a long time. The hand the beggar had tucked into his pocket was still partly visible, and its skin still looked tender; clearly, he hadn’t been begging for long.

Neither his words nor his actions could change his old habits. As he spoke, the beggar lowered his head, let out a long sigh, and gazed at the bright moon outside, a hint of melancholy in his eyes.

Zhu Ning turned to look at Lin Xiayan and noticed that the little demon hadn’t spoken a word since the villagers left. She was now sitting against Zhu Ning, looking pitifully wronged. If Zhu Ning could set aside the fact that she was playing the role of a great villain, she would have loved to give the girl’s cheeks a good squeeze.

“Lin… Lin Xiayan? How old are you?” Zhu Ning felt the urgent need to act out her role. Since she was playing along with the great villain, she might as well commit fully.

Lin Xiayan finally lifted her head, blinking her eyes as she thought for a moment. As if she’d remembered something, she said, “I’m ten years old, Immortal Venerable. Can I learn cultivation?”

Lin Xiayan’s eyes were clear and unafraid as she met Zhu Ning’s gaze. There was no trace of guilt for lying, but instead, her gaze made Zhu Ning feel a sudden unease.

She coughed lightly, her mind racing. Since Lin Xiayan had come to her, why not go along with it and accept her as a disciple? With the original script in hand, she knew every move this villain would make. Under her watchful eye, Lin Xiayan wouldn’t be able to cause any trouble.

Making up her mind, Zhu Ning leaned closer to Lin Xiayan. A faint smile appeared on her usually icy face. She wasn’t good at smiling, especially when facing a dangerous person. Zhu Ning felt her face stiffening, but she pressed on, “Though you’re young, all magical arts must be learned from a young age. Since you’re determined, this venerable one sees no reason to stop you. Since fate has brought us together, why not come to the mountain with me tomorrow and become my disciple?”

Zhu Ning secretly hated the phrase “this venerable one.” And wasn’t this too easy of an agreement to let her come to the mountain? When reading the novel, she hadn’t thought the original character was particularly foolish, just a bit saintly. Who knew that experiencing it firsthand would make her even more foolish than the original?

The dilapidated temple offered no protection against the biting wind. Zhu Ning rubbed her arms, hoping to generate some warmth, but her hands only grew colder. She eventually tucked them back into her sleeves, watching Lin Xiayan intently, waiting for her next move.

Lin Xiayan, however, didn’t follow the expected script. She pulled Zhu Ning’s hand out of her wide white sleeve and reached toward the temple’s sole brazier. Zhu Ning tensed, fearing Lin Xiayan might actually plunge her hand into the flames.

When Lin Xiayan withdrew her hand moments later, Zhu Ning breathed a sigh of relief, chiding herself for treating the girl like a child.

A faint smile curved Zhu Ning’s lips, creating a graceful arc. Lin Xiayan, naturally, didn’t miss it. Instead, she took her now-warmed hand…

And clasped Zhu Ning’s icy fingers.

Zhu Ning stared at her in shock, a softness stirring within her heart, as if the girl before her were truly the most innocent and carefree child…

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