Transmigrating as the Heart Demon of the Ruthless Sword Venerable – Chapter 13
by Little PandaSect Arc — Enchantress
Tang Wenchun: Hehe
Tang Wenchun collapsed on the ground for the 128th time.
The grass of the Sea of Consciousness swayed gently, and Tang Wenchun felt her tears were about to spill. She struggled to lift her gaze to the girl standing before her with sword in hand. The girl held her long sword, her face still carrying a trace of the softness unique to her age, but her gaze was steady and tranquil, watching Tang Wenchun quietly.
Yet there was none of the thick, sharp killing intent from before.
“…Why are you beating me again!” Tang Wenchun pounded the ground.
“Get up. Continue,” Yu Zhaoming said.
Tang Wenchun rolled over, lay flat on the spot, and shouted with her eyes shut: “I quit! If you’re so capable, just kill me! You beat me every single day—I’m not a masochist!”
Yu Zhaoming pondered for a moment, then walked silently to stand before Tang Wenchun, looking down at her from above. Tang Wenchun rolled her eyes at her and lifted her chin. She had already figured it out—Yu Zhaoming had no killing intent toward her… she just wanted to beat her up.
At that thought, Tang Wenchun’s tears nearly flowed for real.
What had she even done wrong? What deserved Yu Zhaoming coming after her again and again to pummel her. A full seven days! True, she’d gained a lot from sparring with Yu Zhaoming. But the moment she remembered that as a Heart Demon she couldn’t leave this place at all, she felt that any gains were completely useless.
In that case, why keep grinding1? Wouldn’t it be better to be a salted fish2?
Yu Zhaoming raised her sword, and Cangfeng let out a low hum, as if warning Tang Wenchun. The next moment Cangfeng descended, and Tang Wenchun rolled out of the way in an instant, staring at Yu Zhaoming wide-eyed: “You’re going for real!”
“Since you refuse the fake, then real it must be.” Yu Zhaoming’s hand trailed lightly along the blade, and her gaze toward Tang Wenchun brimmed with killing intent. “I am about to break through as well.”
The next instant, Yu Zhaoming’s figure appeared before Tang Wenchun, swift as a phantom.
But after enduring Yu Zhaoming’s abuse for so long, Tang Wenchun’s reflexes had improved imperceptibly. She executed a carp’s leap3, her form drifting backward. But Yu Zhaoming pressed close behind, and the two exchanged several moves back and forth.
Yu Zhaoming landed, raised her sword, and the corner of her lips curved into a small smile. “You’re doing quite well, aren’t you?”
Tang Wenchun froze. Yu Zhaoming had an Ice Spirit Root, and her entire being seemed frozen solid—not only did she handle everything with rigid precision, she rarely smiled. This smile now was like ice and snow melting away, spring warmth and flowers blooming.
“Ah, you smiled.” Tang Wenchun spoke up.
Yu Zhaoming paused, a rare look of bewildered uncertainty flickering across her face, even her raised sword stance faltering for a beat. “Of course I can smile.”
“But you never smiled before. I thought you couldn’t.” Tang Wenchun easily sidestepped Yu Zhaoming’s sword technique. Her eyes glinted as though she’d discovered something. She batted her lashes and softened her voice coaxingly. “You should smile more. You look so pretty when you smile.”
Yu Zhaoming’s sword stance stalled. Her gaze flickered, and when she looked up again, her face was once more cold as frost. “I don’t need to.”
“Eh, eh??”
Facing the suddenly fierce barrage of sword strikes, Tang Wenchun realized her flattery had completely backfired. She scrambled frantically to fend off Yu Zhaoming, with no time left for talk.
Tang Wenchun was soon defeated again. She lay on the grass once more, panting lightly, looking at Yu Zhaoming. “I—I’m out of energy.”
Yu Zhaoming approached slowly, but didn’t do what Tang Wenchun expected—kill her. Yu Zhaoming sheathed her sword and looked down at Tang Wenchun through lowered lashes. “Still too weak. But—” she paused, “there is progress.”
Hmm? So her earlier threats to kill her hadn’t been real. Tang Wenchun thought, and when she saw Yu Zhaoming turn to leave, she panicked and reached out a hand.
Yu Zhaoming stopped. She turned her head, gaze moving downward.
Tang Wenchun had grabbed the hem of her robe.
Seeing that Yu Zhaoming made no other move, Tang Wenchun gave a gentle tug. The hem of Yu Zhaoming’s robe swayed with the motion, like a breeze brushing through grass—faint and small, yet impossible to ignore.
Yu Zhaoming’s long lashes fluttered once, and her gaze settled on Tang Wenchun. They had just finished a bout; Tang Wenchun had dodged clumsily, and she looked the part—robes slightly disheveled, chest heaving, revealing her impressive assets, and below that, a waist so slender it looked like it could be encircled in one grip, supple as a slender snake.
For an instant, Yu Zhaoming’s mind wandered, recalling the mountain enchantresses from the stories of her childhood.
And this enchantress gazed at Yu Zhaoming so pitifully, her voice turning soft and clingy. “Yu Zhaoming, Zhaoming Sword Venerable, what will it take for you to let me go?”
Yu Zhaoming fell silent. She watched Tang Wenchun looking up at her—those large, round, bright eyes so unlike her own, glistening and wet, like a fawn by a mountain stream glancing back in dazed confusion, carrying bewilderment and a very well-hidden wariness and guard.
“Defeat me,” Yu Zhaoming said. She watched Tang Wenchun stiffen for an instant, her eyes brightening further. “Defeat me, and I won’t come after you.”
Tang Wenchun looked up at Yu Zhaoming and pondered for a moment. “Any method goes?”
Yu Zhaoming nodded. “Naturally.”
Between life and death, one naturally used every means available. She was repaying a debt by making Tang Wenchun stronger, so naturally she would give it her all.
Yu Zhaoming thought it over and found nothing wrong with it.
Tang Wenchun bit her lower lip and pressed closer to Yu Zhaoming’s body. Though this was the Sea of Consciousness, Yu Zhaoming still felt it when Tang Wenchun leaned in—that soft, yielding warmth pressing firmly against her shin.
The soft sensation seemed to seep through the clothing, clinging tightly to her skin.
No—this was within Spiritual Consciousness. The clothing was illusory, of course. What pressed tightly together was their Spiritual Consciousness.
But, but… how could it be so big and so soft?
Tang Wenchun shifted subtly up and down, watching Yu Zhaoming’s face with care. She saw Yu Zhaoming maintaining a taut expression, looking no different from usual.
Was it not working? The other party was a woman, sure, but Yu Zhaoming was only seventeen this year—she should still get flustered. Tang Wenchun refused to give up and rubbed twice more. Then she saw a flush creeping up along Yu Zhaoming’s neck, spreading to her earlobes.
And yet her face remained completely colorless. On closer inspection, Yu Zhaoming’s eyes lacked their usual sharpness—instead they were hazy, clearly blanked out.
Truly… incredible. What a natural talent for faking composure!! But since it was working, Tang Wenchun of course had to press her advantage—she absolutely couldn’t let such a golden opportunity slip.
Tang Wenchun pressed her hand against Yu Zhaoming’s knee and climbed upward little by little, like a snake. How strange—before she transmigrated, she’d never been good at this sort of thing. She was just an ordinary shut-in; even if the flights of fancy in her head had long since launched into outer space, she’d never have been capable of doing anything so bold in real life.
Yet right now, she performed these actions without the slightest hesitation, her movements utterly practiced.
As though it were an instinct.
This thought flashed through her mind without capturing much of Tang Wenchun’s attention. She was still staring at Yu Zhaoming’s earlobes—the young girl’s body was rigid as a block of wood.
Tang Wenchun laughed inwardly. She reached up to Yu Zhaoming’s ear and breathed softly against it, watching the pink ear turn red as fire. “My my, how cute.”
Yu Zhaoming turned her head, about to say something, and Tang Wenchun wrapped her arms around her shoulders and pulled her down hard.
The sensation of weightlessness hit, but a pair of arms circled Tang Wenchun’s back, sparing her from hitting the ground directly.
Tang Wenchun looked up. Yu Zhaoming was on top of her. Their eyes met, and Yu Zhaoming hastily looked away. “You…”
Before the word could finish, Yu Zhaoming felt a tightness around her waist—Tang Wenchun’s legs had wrapped around it. In that instant, tension, shyness, and an indescribable ripple surged together, and her once-steady breathing faltered.
For a split second, Yu Zhaoming felt all the strength drain from her body, and then she was swiftly flipped over by Tang Wenchun.
An icy blade fell against her throat, and a woman’s triumphant voice rang out.
“Haha! You lost!!”
Yu Zhaoming stared blankly upward. Cangfeng was cold against her throat, but Tang Wenchun smiled like spring in March—smug and proud, delight spilling from the corners of her eyes.
“I won. You promised—no more random beatings. You hear me!”
Yu Zhaoming pressed her lips tightly together. Her complexion was already fair; now it was paler still, and the look she directed at Tang Wenchun carried immense pressure. Tang Wenchun couldn’t help but shrink back, hunching her shoulders. “You’re not going to welch on the bet, are you?”
The next moment, Yu Zhaoming simply vanished.
Tang Wenchun called out angrily a few times, but no response came from Yu Zhaoming. She gnashed her teeth. “She’s not pretending she didn’t hear me, is she!”
The author has something to say:
Author: Boss Yu, say something
Yu Zhaoming: …
Tang Wenchun: She’s too embarrassed about losing
Yu Zhaoming: …
Well, Boss Yu doesn’t want to say anything. Does anyone here have something they’d like to say?
Footnotes
- 'Juan' (卷) is Chinese internet slang for 'involution'—a culture of excessive, self-defeating competition where people grind endlessly just to stay in place.
- 'Salted fish' (xianyu) is Chinese internet slang for a couch potato or slacker—someone with no ambition or drive, likened to a salted fish lying flat.
- 'Carp leap' (liyu dati) is a traditional Chinese acrobatic and martial-arts move: lying on the back, then kicking up and arching to spring to one's feet in one explosive motion.
0 Comments