Chapter 18: Cultivation (II) Part 1

Apart from that time she was gravely wounded, thinking back, Yun Jinxue had no memory of sharing a bed with the little villainess.

So hearing it spoken aloud now was somewhat startling.

After all, this child was very likely to flay her and tear out her tendons once she grew up.

However, looking at it now, this method was still reasonable. The little villainess clearly wouldn’t yield an inch, and she couldn’t very well let the little female lead actually sleep in a tree.

Yun Jinxue hesitated only a moment before saying: “Then take her to see the room.”

Jiang Yanyu’s smile deepened. Her fingertip tapped twice on Yun Jinxue’s hand before letting go. Turning around, she said: “Come on, Miss Guixing, I’ll show you your room.”

Yan Guixing said: “Thank you, but I am not ‘Miss’.”

Jiang Yanyu’s voice drifted away: “Alright then, Hero Yan.”

“I am no hero either.”

Yun Jinxue watched their two figures vanish before letting out a soft sigh and heading toward the main house.

Before the little villainess arrived, only the Senior Sister had lived on Sword Summit. Thus, there were only a few scattered houses, loosely surrounded by thick groves of forest, wreathed in cloud and mist, cold and solitary.

In the past, though Yun Jinxue preferred quiet, she couldn’t have endured living alone in such a desolate place.

So, deep down, she had believed that those who could seclude themselves in a remote corner, withdrawing from the world, must possess a state of mind transcending ordinary mortals.

Now, having become such a character herself, she realized it was nothing special.

Perhaps many things that seem daunting, that we assume impossible, aren’t truly unachievable. Only by trying do we know the outcome.

She pushed the wooden door open and walked in, lighting a lamp. The night scenery outside the window was quietly beautiful, but unfortunately, the wind was too strong; a few more gusts would certainly be uncomfortable.

Exhausted from the long journey, the wounds on her body throbbed again. Yun Jinxue closed the window.

Jiang Yanyu walked in: “Senior Sister.”

Yun Jinxue responded. Weighed down by fatigue, her voice gradually softened: “It’s too late tonight, let’s just rest.”

Jiang Yanyu walked to the table: “Alright. Senior Sister, lie down first, I’ll put out the lamp.”

“Mm.”

Yun Jinxue’s back faced her as she slowly shed her outer robes, folding them neatly beside the bed, down to her final inner garment, stretched taut by her tall, slender frame.

She removed her jade crown, bent to straighten the bedding. The inner garment was a naturally draping, smooth fabric. Her long hair spilled down her back—a stark contrast of deep black and pure white, like strokes of ink from a master calligrapher, unintentionally sketching the highest grade of beauty.

Narrow shoulders, a faintly protruding line of vertebrae like jade beads, and finally, a tapered waist, so slender it seemed it could not withstand a single grasp.

Jiang Yanyu watched with keen interest, candlelight dancing in her eyes, deepening her smile.

It was almost like returning to that night—the woman’s hands bound to the headboard, body trembling slightly from the cold, flushed red all over from a high fever. To the touch, warm and soft.

Her two fingers were held near the wick. As Jiang Yanyu observed the woman, images of what lay beneath that thin inner garment, the scenery once the garment was gone, automatically constructed themselves within her mind.

And, her voice… her voice…

This Senior Sister of hers was truly fascinating. Her previous life had been such a waste; there were too many interesting aspects left unexplored.

Thankfully, in this life, to preserve this skin, she hadn’t used her Heavenly Calamity Power right from the start and spared her life.

Otherwise, she’d have lost a great source of amusement.

Yun Jinxue finished arranging the bed, straightened her waist, and looked back: “Do you want to sleep on the outside or the inside?”

Jiang Yanyu said: “Inside.”

“Alright, put out the light and come over.”

With a pinch of her fingers, the candle flame extinguished, hiding her smile within the darkness.

Yun Jinxue sat on the edge of the bed, removed her boots and socks, and slipped her legs under the blanket. Just as her lower back settled against the headboard, she felt a wave of heat approaching.

Children’s body temperatures really are high.

The thought had just appeared when a piercing pain shot through her abdomen, making her instinctively curl up, a muffled groan escaping her lips.

“Mmh…!”

“Ah! I’m so sorry, Senior Sister! It’s too dark, I couldn’t see… did I press on your wound?”

The pressure on her abdomen abruptly withdrew. The girl’s voice was panicked and flustered, her hands bracing on either side of Yun Jinxue’s waist, her breath coming close.

Stars swam before Yun Jinxue’s eyes. She couldn’t help but think: Should have let Yan Guixing come sleep instead. That child wouldn’t be so careless.

Once the wave of pain subsided, Yun Jinxue gently grasped her arm and nudged her outward: “It’s fine. Quickly go inside.”

Only then did Jiang Yanyu flip over from her body. She asked again: “Really okay?”

Yun Jinxue softened her voice: “Really. Quick, lie down properly.”

There was a moment of silence beside her before the sound of blankets being pulled up came.

After she was settled, Yun Jinxue dared to rub her lower abdomen.

That moment of pain just now had nearly brought tears to her eyes. Thank goodness she had gritted her teeth and endured. Crying just from a little bump in front of a child would be too embarrassing.

She was the Senior Sister, after all.

She endured in silence for a while longer, then heard the person next to her slowly speak: “Senior Sister, I’ve discovered that you seem different from what I imagined.”

The cold night was deeply still. Yun Jinxue instinctively lowered her own voice to match: “Different how?”

Jiang Yanyu said: “Senior Sister could have simply taken Yan Guixing and left, but you helped her vent her anger.”

She knew the child was perceptive. But… she had actually noticed?

She was just about to awkwardly explain away her actions when Jiang Yanyu added: “Even the most foolish mortal couldn’t possibly believe those methods could exorcise a Demon.”

Yun Jinxue thought to herself: The Yan family seemed utterly convinced, though.

Since she’d been found out, there was no need to keep hiding it. Yun Jinxue said: “It was nothing. For me, it was just a small favor.”

Jiang Yanyu turned over, facing her, close enough that one could almost feel the warm breath of her words: “But from my common knowledge, Immortal Lords almost all put on airs and can’t be bothered with mortal affairs.”

“If there’s a benefit, it’s one thing. If not, they seal their ears and eyes, pretending not to hear or see.”

It was no wonder she thought so.

Over five hundred years ago, when the first Cultivators emerged, what had once been a relatively harmonious human whole had abruptly split.

The power gap created by Spiritual Power instantly intensified conflicts, causing frequent societal chaos with no law or order. This state persisted for over a hundred years before gradually stabilizing, separating the Immortal and Human worlds.

These two realms, constantly clashing and adapting over their development, had long since birthed countless rules—some written into law, others established by custom.

Accidentally transgressing them wouldn’t necessarily bring severe consequences, but the procedures and processes involved from all sides were truly troublesome and extremely draining.

Just like her helping Yan Guixing vent her anger this time—though it had seemed clean and decisive, without immediate repercussions.

But if the Yan family ever came to their senses and realized they’d been tricked, they could absolutely file a complaint with the government institution specifically handling Immortal-Human relations. The ensuing mediation between the two sides would inevitably spark a public dispute.

Over time, even an Immortal with a righteous heart wouldn’t easily step forward to right wrongs.

This was also why Elder Yan He had entrusted the accompanying imperial official to handle the matter, rather than dealing with it herself.

In the Human Realm, the identity of a Cultivator wasn’t all that useful against mortals who could never, ever cultivate.

However, whether these various agreements between the Immortal and Human worlds, or the tacit rules developed over centuries, they all circulated within the social strata that had access to such topics.

Thus, common folk always felt that human officials ignored them, and Immortals with magical powers ignored them too. They cursed officials as corrupt and incompetent, holding posts without performing duties. They cursed Immortals as lofty and arrogant, their eyes above the common masses.

Jiang Yanyu probably hadn’t ventured out of Crescent Moon Slope much before, so it was normal for her not to understand these things.

Yun Jinxue was just about to explain when a question that had puzzled her before, but she hadn’t had the chance to ask, suddenly surfaced.

How had the little villainess, upon seeing her for the first time, so accurately spoken the name “Yun Jinxue”?

Hearing this question, Jiang Yanyu quickly gave an answer: “Just guessed it.”

Yun Jinxue was bewildered: “How could you possibly guess that?”

Jiang Yanyu just hmmed.

This answer—and attitude—was utterly perfunctory. It could only mean the real answer was something she didn’t want to say, or couldn’t say.

Yun Jinxue clearly remembered: the original work explicitly stated that the cave encounter was their first meeting. Before that, there could not have been any other contact between them.

And before arriving at the Divine Zenith Sect, the little villainess hadn’t even known Immortals existed in this world.

Recalling her various behaviors since their meeting, they were actually quite strange.

This strangeness quickly fermented into unease.

Yun Jinxue couldn’t help but ask inwardly: Mi Ba, can you examine the current little villainess?

Mi Ba said: [I don’t have that function. What do you want to check?]

Yun Jinxue said: Although you keep saying there’s no problem, I still feel something is off. I’m now starting to suspect…

Mi Ba: [Suspect what?]

Yun Jinxue closed her eyes, her heart thinking: I suspect she might be… reborn.

Mi Ba: […How is that possible?]

Yun Jinxue said: An ordinary person like me suddenly transmigrating into a book—such a ridiculous thing genuinely happened. What else is impossible?

Mi Ba said: [You haven’t experienced it personally, or maybe the text didn’t shock you enough, so you probably don’t realize how much the later-stage Jiang Yanyu hated you. If she had truly been reborn, it’s impossible she’d still be obediently sharing a bed with you right now. She would have slaughtered you the instant she saw you.]

She recalled those icy, indifferent eyes at their first meeting—so deeply imprinted, unforgettable.

Yun Jinxue had previously interpreted it as wariness toward a stranger. Now, with new possibilities in mind, she couldn’t help but reinterpret that coldness as hatred.

In an instant, it no longer felt like the little villainess lying beside her, but a razor-sharp blade ready to take her life at any moment.

Yun Jinxue trembled in fear: What if she just doesn’t have the power to kill me yet and is waiting for the right opportunity?