Page 15

Though she had to diligently play the part of a vicious supporting female character, that was only because the system forced her to. The original owner had suffered plenty of injuries and hardship, and Ning Ning didn't want to experience any of it.

That was also why Ning Ning was doing everything she could to master the Golden Snake Sword Technique.

She didn't want to scrape by in the Cultivation World by clinging to other people, the way the original owner had. With such exceptional talent, she ought to rely on her own strength to break through one desperate predicament after another.

For instance, this time, she absolutely would not be thrown out of the illusion covered in blood.

Seeing her pointedly look away, the young woman pinched her voice into a pitiful whine. "Miss, please help me!"

Ning Ning gave her a cool glance.

If she stepped in to right a wrong, those demons would mark her as their chosen food. They'd keep her under constant watch, making it harder for her to move freely around Zhaixing Pavilion and secretly turn the tables—

She'd heard that the flesh and blood of righteous cultivators always tasted especially delicious and sweet.

In that case... why not be the bad guy?

She was a vicious supporting female character, after all.

"Lingbo is a mere songstress. I sell my art, not my body. If that gentleman were to..." The young woman covered her face and wept. "Could it be that you look down on Lingbo for her lowly birth and refuse to help?"

"Yeah," Ning Ning replied without hesitation.

The other woman's face twitched violently.

Sorry, vicious supporting female characters had no morals. They couldn't be guilt-tripped.

Everyone present froze.

Something wasn't right. This girl was practically radiating Sword Qi. She ought to be a sword cultivator from an immortal sect. How could she be so...

So thoroughly inhuman?

What came next shocked them even more.

The purple-robed girl with a sword at her waist smiled faintly and casually slid an arm around the waist of a woman beside her. "I'll take this one."

Then she looked around, surveying the room with great satisfaction, and pulled over the woman standing beside the man in yellow robes. "This big sister looks nice, too."

"Miss," the woman ventured, "I've already agreed to go with that gentleman tonight..."

"So what!"

Ning Ning immediately picked up the line, her tone oddly familiar. "He only touched you a little. Why are you pretending to be so chaste?"

With tears in her eyes, the woman turned to the man in yellow robes. "Sir, please help me!"

The man in yellow robes cried out indignantly, "You shameless villain! How dare you force—"

He stopped halfway through, stunned.

Bah! What was he getting indignant for? Wasn't he the villain here? And wasn't this little girl right in front of him just stealing his lines?

How could anyone in the world have such a thick skin!

A woman who seemed to be in charge stepped forward with an awkward smile. "Miss... which one do you prefer?"

"Hm?"

Ning Ning raised her eyes and clenched her right hand. "I want them all!"

Her senior brother had told her that Sword Cultivators needed to have a little confidence!

The girl in white: ...

The woman in charge: ...

Lin Xun arrived at Zhaixing Pavilion a little later than Ning Ning.

He'd heard the other senior brothers and sisters talk about a plot in Zhaixing Pavilion where someone had to play the hero and save a songstress from the clutches of a dissolute young man.

He'd made his way to the place where the plot was supposed to begin, full of trepidation, only to see...

That scoundrel with an arm around each woman and a big, silly grin on his face.

That lecherous young man holding one of the women's hands and shamelessly saying, "Don't be scared! If I don't pay, it doesn't count as hiring a prostitute!"

That villain who was about to get a sound beating from him—

Why was it his little senior sister???

When Ning Ning saw him, she returned his smile politely.

She wasn't interested in what Little White Dragon was thinking. The only thing on her mind was how to subdue the ultimate monster without a scratch.

Or, more accurately, how to turn this cursed place upside down.

Outside the illusion, at Tianxian Residence.

A young man in white lounged beneath a banyan tree in the courtyard. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, scattering into flecks of light that fell across his handsome profile like countless golden blossoms.

A Brass Profound Mirror hovered in midair, reflecting the scene inside Futu Tower. Whatever he saw made Tian Xianzi lift his brows in surprise.

"Junior brother!"

A hearty male voice suddenly rang out from the front of the courtyard. The fierce Sword Qi sent the branches rustling, and even the air seemed to still for a moment. "Draw your sword!"

"Don't, don't." Tian Xianzi couldn't bear to look away from the Mystic Mirror. He lifted a hand and waved away the incoming sword light. "I'm watching my little disciples undergo their trial. Let's fight another day."

The newcomer was none other than one of the six elders of Xuanxu Sect: his dear senior brother, Sword Venerable Zhenxiao.

Aside from being poor and loving swords more than life itself, Tian Xianzi had little in common with a Sword Cultivator.

What was a Sword Cultivator supposed to be like? Upright as a sword, sharp as a sword, unflinching as a sword. When they came across someone or something they didn't like, they fought—never wasting words. Unlike him, with his endless chatter and expertise in eating, drinking, and gambling. His greatest talent was weaseling out of trouble.

Zhenxiao was different.

He was the most traditional kind of Sword Cultivator. Not only did he carry a sword with him at all times, he'd also inherited the fine tradition of the Sword Sect: if words failed, draw your sword. His only catchphrase was, "Draw your sword."

The strong loved to challenge the strong, and Zhenxiao's greatest pastime was coming here to challenge Tian Xianzi to a sword fight—the kind you paid for.

He got his satisfaction, his junior brother got his money. Nobody lost.

"A trial?"

Zhenxiao snorted and stood beside him with his arms around his sword. "Why waste your time worrying over a place full of ants like Zhaixing Pavilion?"

Tian Xianzi smiled. "No, no. Zhaixing Pavilion is different this time."

A fierce gust, sharp as a sword, cut through the shadows of the trees.

After a moment's hesitation, Zhenxiao furrowed his brows. "Could it be—"

The Sword Venerable's unfathomable eyes dipped slightly, finally settling on the Brass Profound Mirror. "Your disciples are only at the Golden Core Realm, aren't they? If they run into a monster like that, they'll probably meet a bad end."

"Not necessarily."

The young man in white leaned forward and lowered his eyes. His fingertip traced across the mirror, raising a clear ripple that happened to spread over the purple-robed girl's lovely face. "That monster is certainly dangerous, but my little disciple... has a way of doing things no one could have expected."