Chapter 11

Ming Yan wasn’t foolish enough to tell Wen Nie she was a demon.  

But she couldn’t resist teasing him a little, so she widened her eyes in mock surprise. “Junior Brother, it seems your Immortal Binding Rope might be a counterfeit. Were you scammed? Do you need me to help you demand a refund?”  

Wen Nie’s face darkened, but he couldn’t muster a retort.  

He hadn’t expected to lose the upper hand in his very first exchange with Ming Yan—especially when she was only at the Foundation Establishment Stage.  

“It’s just an illusion,” he said coldly, regaining his composure.  

“If you say so.” Ming Yan didn’t outright expose him. Instead, she leisurely untied the ribbon from her hair.  

This “hair ribbon” was entirely red, made of exquisite material, with two delicate silver bells fastened at each end.  

At a glance, it looked far more valuable than Wen Nie’s so-called Immortal Binding Rope.  

Wen Nie took a wary half-step back, putting distance between them.  

Earlier, he had silently recited the Heart-Clearing Incantation, attempting to dispel the illusion. Yet even after repeating it five times, the scene before him remained unchanged.  

“Why so scared, Junior Brother? I’m just a measly Foundation Establishment cultivator,” Ming Yan said with a smile.  

Wen Nie’s voice was icy. “A Foundation Establishment cultivator who can break my Immortal Binding Rope.”  

Ming Yan dusted off her robes. “So, what now? Are you going to fight me, bully this little Foundation Establishment cultivator who ruined your rope? Or will you pretend nothing happened and let me go?”  

“Don’t even think about it!”  

Wen Nie seized his sword and lunged at her without warning.  

This sneak attack was ruthless and direct, executed with eighty percent of his strength—enough to overwhelm even ordinary Golden Core or Nascent Soul cultivators.  

But when it came to Ming Yan—*clang!*—  

His sword was sent flying.  

*Ding!*  

Wen Nie’s pupils dilated in shock at the sight before him.  

It was the silver bell from Ming Yan’s hair ribbon.  

Unbeknownst to him, the obviously extraordinary red silk ribbon had unfurled, stretching over ten inches long and as wide as a person. The bells on the ribbon had also enlarged, now the size of small orbs, their chimes crisp and clear like mountain springs.  

“You really aren’t simple,” Wen Nie muttered, his killing intent rising. A faint black aura began to swirl around him.  

Today, he had only intended to teach her a lesson—to make this delicate little shiniang suffer for a few days and avenge Mu Qingqing. But not only had Ming Yan recognized his identity, she had also broken his Immortal Binding Rope and now wielded the Red Silk Silver Bells.  

She couldn’t be left alive.  

If she lived, she would become a future calamity.  

Ming Yan hurriedly defended herself. “No, no, I’m very simple!”  

If Wen Nie and Mu Qingqing hadn’t provoked her first, she would never have crossed paths with these two protagonists.  

If Wen Nie wanted to call a truce now and sign a peace treaty, she wouldn’t refuse.  

“Enough talk—take this!”  

But Wen Nie had no patience for her excuses. With a flick of his wrist, his sword returned to his grasp.  

His relentless Swordplay struck with lethal precision, each move aimed to kill.  

He was aggressive, and Ming Yan responded in kind.  

The Red Silk Silver Bells obeyed her commands as smoothly as a sword in a swordsman’s hand—unlike Xiaobai, who occasionally threw tantrums. Ming Yan wielded the ribbon with ease, effortlessly blocking Wen Nie’s attacks while occasionally landing a strike or two with the bells.  

*Ding! Ding! Ding!*

Her silver bells may appear delicate and exquisite, but in reality, they weighed over a thousand pounds. It was only because Wen Nie was a demon with thick skin and tough flesh that he wasn’t coughing up blood from the blows.

After several rounds of combat, Wen Nie hadn’t gained the slightest advantage against Ming Yan.

Not only that, but as the two fought their way from the ruined temple into the Nightmare Forest, Wen Nie suddenly felt his legs weaken, dropping to one knee. His face darkened with rage as he gritted his teeth, “What did you do to me?”

Ming Yan gracefully withdrew her hand, blinking innocently. “Nothing much—you were the one who kept running into my bells.”

As she said this, the spots where the bells had struck Wen Nie began to throb with pain. He sucked in a sharp breath.

“Poison,” he finally realized.

But his vision was already darkening.

“You’re quite clever, junior brother,” Ming Yan praised generously.

She had always said that her years in the cultivation world hadn’t been for nothing. After all, she was a great demon at the Transformation Spirit Stage, having died multiple times and absorbed the cultivation of several cultivators—her self-preservation skills were nothing to scoff at.

The Red Silk Silver Bells were her magical artifact. Normally, they appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary hair ribbon, but once struck by the bells, the poison-stacking mechanism would activate.

If one had played the game *Honor of Kings*, Ming Yan’s technique was eerily similar to Bian Que’s—subtle at first, but growing deadlier with each hit.

“So,” Ming Yan asked kindly, watching Wen Nie struggle to hold on, “junior brother, do you still want to fight?”

Wen Nie’s eyes gleamed with malice. “Fight.”

Whether for Mu Qingqing or for himself, this battle was one he had to see through.

Moreover, as the young master of the demon race, Wen Nie had countless trump cards up his sleeve.

Unfortunately, the moment he spoke, the demon beasts deep within the Nightmare Forest began to howl inexplicably.

*Woo… woo…*

The wind carried their mournful cries, especially eerie in the dead of night, sending chills down one’s spine.

Wen Nie, being a demon, wasn’t afraid of ghosts.

But he knew these demon beasts wouldn’t howl without reason.

Something was coming.

Fast—and with a killing intent that froze the blood in his veins.

The sensation was familiar.

“Chu Xuanqing!” Wen Nie quickly realized who it was.

His face paled.

Even at full strength, he was no match for Chu Xuanqing. Now, poisoned and weakened, he stood no chance. Though reckless, Wen Nie wasn’t foolish. Ming Yan, who had been playing the fool, was already troublesome enough. With Chu Xuanqing arriving as reinforcements, the odds were overwhelmingly against him. Without hesitation, Wen Nie sheathed his sword and fled.

His escape alarmed Ming Yan.

“Don’t run! If you leave, what am I supposed to do?”

Wen Nie didn’t look back.

Instead, he flung a hidden weapon at her as he fled.

Given Ming Yan’s reflexes, such a clumsy projectile couldn’t possibly hit her.

Yet, for some reason, she didn’t dodge—taking the hit squarely.

Then—

“Ahhh!”

Ming Yan collapsed, clutching her chest, whimpering pitifully, “I’m so weak…”

By the time Chu Xuanqing arrived at the scene, this was exactly what he saw.

＊

Under the dark moon and howling wind, with demon beasts wailing in the distance—the setting, the characters, and the timing were all perfect.

Ming Yan began her performance:

“Cough, cough… I—I think I’m going to die.”

“Husband, if there’s a next life… I still want to be your Dao Companion.”

“It hurts so much… Husband, why don’t you just end me with your sword? Give me release!”

“When spring comes next year, remember to place a small pink flower on my grave… I like pink—what are you doing?” Ming Yan was abruptly pulled out of her immersive performance.  

The scene before her left her utterly shocked.  

Chu Xuanqing, this beast of a man… shameless!  

“What kind of time is this, and you’re still thinking about Dual Cultivation?”  

Ming Yan scolded furiously.  

Yet Chu Xuanqing offered no explanation, nor did he pause his movements.  

He untied her outer robe, inner garments, and even her undergarments, exposing her jade-like skin to the cold air. A shiver ran through her as the chilly wind brushed against her, and she instinctively curled in on herself. The spot where the hidden weapon had struck was now a large, dark bruise, tinged ominously with black.  

Chu Xuanqing’s fingers lightly traced the bruise, his dark eyes unreadable.  

But the Red Immortal Markings in his eyes writhed uncontrollably, spreading from his pupils to the corners of his eyes, then up to his forehead—more eerie than ever before.  

Ming Yan was stunned.  

She had never known that Chu Xuanqing’s crimson markings could move.  

And when they did, they looked so bewitching.  

Perhaps she was under some spell.  

Because she actually found him… beautiful like this. Mesmerizing.  

If she didn’t know that Chu Xuanqing was the villain destined for Wife-slaying Dao Attainment, she might have truly fallen for him.  

“Ah—”  

The next moment, pain made her gasp.  

“Poison. Endure it,” Chu Xuanqing said tersely.  

Ming Yan blinked her cat-like eyes, feigning obedience. “Oh.” She had known about the poison all along—she just wanted to see what Chu Xuanqing was planning.  

Now that he had obtained the Cultivation Method, he must be determined to kill her.  

This was the perfect opportunity.  

Kill her now, and no one would suspect a thing. He could even shamelessly pin the blame on Wen Nie.  

A gift from the heavens.  

So… what would Chu Xuanqing choose?  

Ming Yan waited nervously, her heart pounding wildly.  

She watched as Chu Xuanqing lowered his head, his lips pressing against her skin. His cold lips were frosted over, but as the frost melted, his pale lips gained a hint of color.  

Soon, an overwhelming force pulled at her.  

“It’s… healed?”  

Ming Yan was astonished.  

“Don’t move.” After drawing out the poisoned blood, Chu Xuanqing held her still, his fingers gently brushing over her wound. Warmth instantly enveloped her, soothing her entire body.  

Ming Yan nearly lost control, barely suppressing her breakthrough to the Foundation Establishment Stage.  

Her heart hammered in her chest.  

No way…  

Why would Chu Xuanqing save her so kindly?  

Shouldn’t he have finished her off with a sword strike, then ascended to greater power as a widower?  

Unable to resist, she stole another glance at him.  

His expression was as calm as ever, revealing nothing.  

But damn it all—  

She actually thought she saw the faintest trace of affection in his gaze.  

Was this some lingering effect of the poison?  

Ming Yan pinched herself hard, trying to snap out of it.  

It didn’t work. It just hurt.  

Fortunately, Chu Xuanqing lifted her in a princess carry, pressing her head against his chest as he stepped onto his flying sword. Now, she no longer had to meet his eyes. But she soon realized this position was even worse.  

True, she couldn’t see his eyes anymore—but now she was surrounded by the crisp scent of pine that clung to him, her ear pressed against the steady, strong rhythm of his heartbeat.

Ming Yan found herself unwittingly falling deeper.

Oh no, oh no.

Ming Yan screamed internally.

No wonder the authors in novels loved the hero-saves-the-beauty trope so much.

Who could resist this?

She even began to entertain the thought that perhaps Chu Xuanqing had turned over a new leaf after meeting her, no longer wanting to be the villain but instead deciding to become a devoted and loyal Dao Companion. If that were truly the case, then for the sake of his face alone, she might just be able to make a life with him…

Just as her thoughts were running wild, a familiar voice called out from behind:

“Chu Xuanqing, Chu Xuanqing, wait for me, Chu Xuanqing!”

She peeked out and saw, sure enough, a pitiful sword trailing behind Chu Xuanqing.

“Xiaobai, are you okay?” Ming Yan asked.

Xiaobai wailed loudly, “I’m fine, I just passed out!”

Ming Yan was about to sympathize.

*Snap*—Xiaobai broke into two pieces with a crisp sound.

Chu Xuanqing glared coldly. “Useless.”

Ming Yan: “…”

She took back all her earlier fantasies.

The big villain was a no-go for her!