In the early morning, Yan Huirou passed by Qionghua Hall on her way down the mountain to buy supplies, as was her routine. As she passed, she happened to hear the sound of something shattering inside.
The commotion was shocking.
When she entered, she saw that the woman seemed to be angry. The fury had just left her face, but she was frowning, lost in thought.
Wen Xianyin was kneeling, motionless.
Although Yan Huirou wasn’t feeling very energetic, she didn’t stand by and watch. She walked inside.
The hall was silent. The sound of her footsteps on the floor of Qionghua Hall echoed in the empty space.
A jade ruyi scepter lay shattered on the floor, scattered in pieces, a messy sight.
Yan Huirou took it in and carefully stepped around the debris. “White jade is precious. Why would you smash it?”
Jiang Xidai didn’t speak to her, instead saying flatly, “Wen Xianyin, you are dismissed. Remember to assign more people to every direction, and do not overlook any matter, big or small—from now on, keep a close watch on him. Report anything suspicious to me immediately. Understand?”
Wen Xianyin looked as if she had received a pardon. “Yes.”
She quickly patted the dust off and got up. As she walked past Yan Huirou, she gave her a look that said, Thank goodness you’re here.
I’m counting on you.
Yan Huirou seemed to understand Senior Sister Wen’s meaning and felt a little helpless. Her gaze shifted back to Jiang Xidai. “Sect Master Jiang.”
She hesitated for a moment before walking toward her. “I told you a long time ago. If something is troubling you, you can trust me and talk to me about it. I won’t tell anyone.”
Just a moment ago, Jiang Xidai had wanted to call Yan Huirou over.
But…
For some reason.
Seeing the female lead like this now, she felt an unconscious knot in her heart.
The world had become so absurd that the Universe Pouch, which she had personally crushed under her foot, could actually reappear.
Was this reasonable? It wasn’t.
It was precisely because it was so devoid of reason that Jiang Xidai was so annoyed.
In other words, the “plot” described by the System did not develop logically. In the unseen world, a hand was always pulling things back on course.
She couldn’t use common sense to predict what would happen next.
Just as now, Yan Huirou’s favorability toward her was high, and she seemed to pose no threat.
But…
It was as if someone’s whisper echoed by her ear:
Who knows what the future holds?
Even dead objects could change so easily—to say nothing of the ever-fickle human heart?
“Sect Master Jiang.” Yan Huirou’s voice continued, “You look so pale. Would you like to eat some dessert? I happen to be free right now…”
“No need.” Jiang Xidai’s thoughts were in turmoil. She didn’t want to see her and said with a frown, “You may leave.”
“…”
Yan Huirou didn’t move, looking at her with concern.
[Monitoring Host’s emotional fluctuations.]
The static in her ear sounded again, as ill-timed and sharp as ever.
Jiang Xidai hesitated for a moment, a question surfacing in her heart.
It had been a long time. She could have asked the System at any point, but she had set the question aside, never voicing it.
In essence, she was a little afraid to ask.
“How do I die at the end of this story?” she asked softly in her mind.
Will I have a peaceful end?
She didn’t hold much hope.
She was the main villain. If she followed the plot, what kind of peaceful end could she expect?
The noisy static started up again, but Jiang Xidai quickly cut it off. She lowered her head and pressed her temple. “Never mind… don’t say it.”
Knowing such a thing in advance was just too unlucky.
The static returned to silence.
“Yan Huirou.”
Jiang Xidai’s voice was heavy, as if soaked in water, sounding weary. She flicked her sleeve and stood up. “I have no mind to deal with you today. As for sword practice, I’ll give you a three-day break. Don’t come near me.”
Jiang Xidai left, turning into the bedchamber she rarely stayed in.
The woman’s entire state was very wrong right now.
Yan Huirou saw this and began to compare it to her past moments of displeasure.
—It wasn’t like this. It was an emotion she had never shown before.
So she took a step forward and asked tentatively, “Are you really not going to talk to me…”
“Get out.”
Jiang Xidai suddenly turned back, her expression turning several shades colder. “The sight of you annoys me. Leave.”
Her voice, which had started to rise, fell again. It was only half-fierce, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. She hissed at Yan Huirou before scurrying into a corner, wanting to lick her wounds alone.
Yan Huirou stopped in her tracks, her expression dazed as she watched her figure disappear.
Jiang Xidai entered the bedchamber and sat down by the window.
She leaned against it, gazing at the splendid and luxurious backyard of Qionghua Hall, but she was in no mood to admire the scenery, her mind carefully planning her next steps.
Keeping a close watch was one thing, but that Dragon Spring sword and the Universe Pouch—she had to find a way to seize them.
“Should I capture that boy and imprison him in the Shasheng Sect…”
As she murmured this to herself, a sharp pain shot through her heart, making her subconsciously clench her hand—
Damn it, that was the System’s warning.
This action violated the newly corrected plotline. The male lead was supposed to be leveling up in Lanyue Pavilion, not being snatched away to the Shasheng Sect.
Jiang Xidai let out a muffled grunt, her vision blurring for a moment. She steadied herself against the window frame, hearing the faint sound of the wood creaking under her grip.
After a long time, she opened her palm. She had drawn blood.
The bright red spread along her palm lines like a dodder flower parasitizing her hand.
Just like the system of unknown origin in her mind, it entangled her in everything, offering small sweets to lure her step by step toward her final end, wasn’t it?
A pity. She didn’t want to die.
If Jiang Xidai didn’t want to die, then she had to find a way to kill those who threatened her.
But Yan Huirou was one of them.
Strangely, compared to Li Xinghe, Jiang Xidai was more concerned that Yan Huirou was also “one of them.” The thought always felt like a fishbone stuck in her throat.
Thinking of this, Jiang Xidai also thought of the “Golden Tower Jade Palace.”
Although the System had not explained this fortune in detail, Jiang Xidai vaguely knew that the sword Yan Huirou obtained should have been on the same level as Li Xinghe’s.
But Yan Huirou had chosen—or rather, unintentionally chosen—the sword that paired with “A Ten-foot Soft Red.”
That naturally couldn’t compare to the other protagonist’s.
Could it be because… I went when I shouldn’t have? That way, at least one sword would fall to the Shasheng Sect.
Jiang Xidai slowly closed her eyes, letting the scene before her fall like a curtain.
That day… Yan Huirou had cleverly steered the conversation, using a very intimate and coquettish way to make her lower her guard.
Her faint smile when she seriously asked, “Aren’t you going with me?” had shone like gold, making it impossible to refuse.
At this thought, her heart sank heavily.
Jiang Xidai frowned, unable to distinguish whether her feelings for her were hatred, annoyance, affection, or something else, just like the thought that had surfaced in her drunken mind that night.
It couldn’t possibly be love.
Even if Yan Huirou was good to her, she shouldn’t have any good feelings for her anymore.
After going through all this, she considered the worst-case scenario. Perhaps she needed to be more vigilant of this gentle and weak young girl than of Li Xinghe.
After all, between her and Li Xinghe, it was a pure, life-or-death enmity. Jiang Xidai could be unscrupulous. But with Yan Huirou… facing that girl, there were always some ambiguous feelings mixed in.
She had lived a life of bloodshed. Halfway through, she had yet to taste any joy from such emotions before another piece of her heart was gouged out, dripping with blood and flesh.
The mix of sweet, sour, bitter, and spicy, a heart full of joy, all overturned in an instant, like that piece of red cloth tossed into the dust.
With the passage of time, it had long since lost its former brightness.
She no longer had the ability to love like that.
And she shouldn’t.
She shouldn’t.
Being soft-hearted would only get her hurt, wouldn’t it… That hurts so much, Jiang Xidai. Haven’t you been in pain for enough years?
Jiang Xidai leaned against the window, closed her eyes, and let her palm hang down, allowing the blood to dry and congeal into a bleak, rust-like color.
When Wen Xianyin came to report again, this was the sight that greeted her.
The Sect Master was turned to the side, her hand hanging motionlessly, the beautiful red dress trailing on the floor. Her back looked unusually desolate.
“What is it? Wen Xianyin, is there any news?”
Wen Xianyin averted her gaze and shook her head. “No, Sect Master, it’s another matter.”
Jiang Xidai relaxed a little. As long as it didn’t involve those two heaven-blessed wretches, she thought, things couldn’t get any worse.
Her tone softened slightly. “What is it?”
Wen Xianyin said, “Sect Master, it’s not a major issue. About twenty miles outside the Shasheng Sect, traces of a giant demon beast have been found, and it has been getting closer to the sect recently. The disciples in the sect have been very anxious.”
Jiang Xidai closed her eyes, quietly regulating her internal energy. She said dismissively, “Hmph, just a single beast.”
“Yes, and that beast is as big as a small mountain,” Wen Xianyin said. “It’s also setting fires everywhere. Others have seen that it’s a giant, brilliant golden bird. Sect Master, if you…”
“I know.” Jiang Xidai said, “Your description sounds familiar, like the nest I raided last time. It’s probably here for revenge. I will take care of it when I have time.”
Wen Xianyin said, “Yes. Thank you for your hard work, Sect Master.”
[Beep! Host, for your own safety, please handle this plot point with care.]
The system in her mind, which had never made such a sound before, seemed to have gone mad.
“What is it?” Jiang Xidai sneered sarcastically. “A weasel paying a New Year’s call to a chicken. If I die, won’t the two children you’re protecting be free of threats?”
[The Host’s premature death does not conform to the plotline’s development.]
The voice said coldly, [When the Host went to destroy the Vermilion Sparrow’s territory last time, the demonic resentment was too strong, and the shattered souls coalesced into one. Its strength is only at the Great Ascension stage, but the Host should not be careless. The original novel did not have a plot where the female lead cultivates. It is something that should not exist in this world. In our terms, because of your disruption, during the plot’s self-correction process, a bug appeared—that is, a loophole.]
This world was already absurd enough. What hadn’t she seen?
So what.
But as she idly followed this line of thought, Jiang Xidai suddenly paused, her expression stunned.
A sentence.
It echoed in her mind like a voice from beyond the heavens.
If Yan Huirou’s rebound constitution encountered this kind of non-physical entity, this thing the System had flagged as a bug, would it still be effective? Would the outcome of her rebirth be different?
Even a sliver of hope began to emerge from the tangled threads of her thoughts.
Jiang Xidai’s hand moved, and a section of her sleeve fell like a cloud.
Her heart suddenly began to race like a galloping horse, sending a wave of heat through her.
So, she would finally think this way one day.
But this opportunity.
It was an opportunity not to be missed, for it will not come again.
Even if it was for her own life, she had to eliminate all threats, didn’t she?
Besides, it probably wouldn’t be a big deal. It would just be starting over once more, which would give her more time.
Should I try it?
Should I try it?
Anyway, according to this plot, if I keep her, she might betray me. Being betrayed by someone who was good to you is far more painful than being stabbed by a known enemy.
Jiang Xidai was familiar with the latter, but she had no desire to experience the former. Someone had already taught her the taste of that pain; she didn’t want to go through it again.
This voice echoed endlessly in her mind.
So much had happened today. She felt a strong urge to put an end to something.
But whenever she thought of Yan Huirou, she was like driftwood on a lonely boat, floating for a thousand miles, never able to get to the point.
With this thought, her mind grew even more unsettled.
Jiang Xidai’s lowered lashes fluttered weakly. When she opened her eyes again, the light in her peach-blossom eyes had dimmed.
She opened her mouth, not knowing what kind of mood she was in as she said, “Wen Xianyin. Have Yan Huirou come here.”
