Transmigrated as The Cannon Fodder Bride of The Villainess

“Forget it,” Qu Weiyin said, her gaze dropping to the ground. Her thick lashes concealed the emotions swirling in her eyes. “What could you possibly offer that I would want?”

“I don’t have anything right now, but I will, eventually. Consider it a debt. If you ever need anything, Junior Shishu, all you have to do is ask,” Luo Jinxiao said with a bright smile.

Qu Weiyin turned away, murmuring a noncommittal “mm.”

At that moment, a slip of paper, fluttering like a yellow bird, drifted down from the sky. It struggled against the wind, finally landing in Qu Weiyin’s outstretched hand. She unfolded it and scanned the message.

“Elder He says he miscalculated the date of his seclusion and is on his way back to teach his class,” she said, shaking her head in amusement. “Perfect timing. Come with me. There’s something I need to discuss with you.”

Luo Jinxiao followed Qu Weiyin back to Hanyun Pavilion. As soon as they stepped inside, Qiongqi, who had clearly made himself at home, launched himself at Luo Jinxiao, nearly knocking her off her feet.

“How did it get so fat in just one night?” Luo Jinxiao exclaimed, staggering back to regain her balance. Qiongqi, who had once resembled a small tiger cub, was now a full-grown beast, albeit a rather plump one.

Qiongqi stretched out its tongue to lick Luo Jinxiao’s face, but she quickly leaned back to avoid it.

Qu Weiyin’s cheeks flushed slightly. “It kept begging for food yesterday, so I fed it a bit more,” she said, her voice carefully neutral.

Luo Jinxiao stared at Qiongqi’s bulging belly, speechless.

“How much did you feed him?” she finally asked.

“Not much,” Qu Weiyin replied, her voice faltering slightly. “Just…a few cows.”

Luo Jinxiao choked, coughing to cover her astonishment. “No wonder it’s so big. It has no self-control when it comes to food. Half a cow would have been more than enough.”

“Really? Oh.” Qu Weiyin nodded, her hands fidgeting behind her back.

“Don’t worry about it. He’ll be fine,” Luo Jinxiao said with a reassuring smile, giving Qiongqi’s belly a gentle pat.

“I’ve never actually fed him before. Usually…” Qu Weiyin began to explain, then stopped abruptly, realizing how that sounded.

Luo Jinxiao looked up at her, their eyes meeting. Qu Weiyin’s expression was carefully blank, her only giveaway the faint blush that stained her cheeks.

Luo Jinxiao felt a strange sensation, a flicker of recognition, like a half-formed thought struggling to emerge from the fog.

No, that’s impossible, she thought, shaking her head. I’m just imagining things.

Unbeknownst to her, Qu Weiyin turned away, letting out a long, silent breath.

Qu Weiyin gently raised her hand, and two steaming cups of fragrant tea appeared on the table. Luo Jinxiao noticed it was Yunwu tea, Qu Weiyin’s favorite. The leaves swirled gently in the clear, emerald-green liquid.

“Sit,” Qu Weiyin said.

Luo Jinxiao, surprised by this unexpectedly formal invitation, smoothed her robes and sat down obediently.

“What did Elder Qu tell you?”

“About the Pure Yin Spiritual Root. And about a cultivation technique that uses other people’s spiritual roots,” Luo Jinxiao replied truthfully.

Qu Weiyin’s eyes narrowed slightly. She sat down opposite Luo Jinxiao, her slender fingers delicately lifting her teacup to her lips. She took a sip, then refilled her cup.

“Not other people’s spiritual roots. Yours,” she said, her voice like the chime of a distant bell, beautiful yet chillingly cold.

“It seems Elder Liu and I were mistaken in thinking we could keep this from you. You, little fool, are far too restless for your own good,” Qu Weiyin said, a hint of exasperation in her voice.

“I know it’s me. The Pure Ice Heart Yin spiritual root. You and Master made that abundantly clear,” Lcuo Jinxiao said, her expression serious. “What I want to know is how they plan to use me. Will they try to extract my spiritual root? Rip it out of me?”

She hated being kept in the dark, treated like a pawn in someone else’s game. She needed to understand what her enemies wanted if she was going to survive this.

“He told you about the extraction?” Qu Weiyin’s eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed in disgust. “Yes, that’s one way. But it’s not just about taking your spiritual root. It’s about making you wish you were dead.”

“They’ll tear your soul apart, piece by piece, draining you of your essence. You’ll lose your mind, but the pain…the pain will never end.” Qu Weiyin’s voice was flat, devoid of emotion, but Luo Jinxiao noticed that her fingers were trembling slightly, spilling tea from her cup.

She didn’t stop talking, as if oblivious to the hot liquid dripping onto her hand.

Luo Jinxiao stared at Qu Weiyin’s carefully composed expression, a heavy weight settling in her stomach. She reached out instinctively, wanting to take the cup from Qu Weiyin’s trembling hand, but the other woman flinched away, splashing hot tea onto Luo Jinxiao’s fingers.

“Junior Shishu, I understand. I’m sorry,” Luo Jinxiao whispered, the weight in her stomach turning into a sharp, agonizing ache.

“You don’t understand,” Qu Weiyin insisted, her voice cold and hard.

“I do,” Luo Jinxiao said, her voice firm. Memories from her past life surfaced, unbidden and unwelcome. Rumors she had heard about the Demon Lord, whispers she had dismissed as mere gossip.

Now, she realized with a sickening certainty, those rumors were true.

They said that the Demon Lord, in her youth, had been imprisoned by her uncle, who had used a forbidden technique to siphon her power, to fuel his own cultivation. But the technique had been lost to time, its existence dismissed as a mere myth. No one had believed it.

Luo Jinxiao couldn’t bear to hear Qu Weiyin describe the agonizing process. She imagined the pain, the betrayal, the utter despair. Without hesitation, she reached out and covered Qu Weiyin’s hand with her own, stilling her trembling fingers.

“Junior Shishu…” she began, her voice thick with emotion. Tears pricked at her eyes. Luo Jinxiao had never been one to cry, not even during the most grueling training sessions. But now, a wave of sadness, so intense it felt like a physical blow, washed over her.

Qu Weiyin’s gaze met hers, her cold facade faltering as she saw the tears welling up in Luo Jinxiao’s eyes. She stopped speaking.

“Be careful, you’ll burn yourself,” Luo Jinxiao whispered, blinking back the tears. The thought of crying in front of Qu Weiyin, of appearing weak and vulnerable, filled her with shame. She forced the tears back down, leaving only a faint redness around her eyes.

The raw empathy in Luo Jinxiao’s gaze caught Qu Weiyin off guard. Her hand trembled again, and this time, the entire contents of her teacup spilled out, soaking her hand and the table. Luo Jinxiao winced but didn’t release her grip.

Gently, she pried the cup from Qu Weiyin’s hand and set it aside. Her fingers, where they had come into contact with the hot tea, were bright red.

The coldness in Qu Weiyin’s eyes melted away. She looked at Luo Jinxiao, then down at her own hand, still clasped in Luo Jinxiao’s warm grasp. She glanced away, her gaze settling on Qiongqi, who was now sniffing at the spilled tea with a mournful air. She channeled her spiritual energy into her palm, and within moments, the redness on Luo Jinxiao’s fingers faded.

“Here. The essence of the forbidden technique is this.” Qu Weiyin paused, then continued, “Take it. Study it. Qu Chengzhou isn’t the only one who knows it. I do too.”

“But I’m not like him. I would never use it,” she added.

Luo Jinxiao carefully tucked the paper into the pouch at her waist. “I know, Junior Shishu. I trust you.”

“Don’t trust me. I’ve killed just as many people as Qu Chengzhou,” Qu Weiyin scoffed, withdrawing her hand. Her gaze lingered on the pouch at Luo Jinxiao’s waist. It was a beautifully crafted pouch, embroidered with hibiscus flowers. The same one she had worn before.

Luo Jinxiao nodded. She knew. But surely Qu Weiyin, at this point in her life, wouldn’t resort to such a horrific act.

The thought, however, planted a seed of doubt in her mind.

But for now, she pushed it aside, her gaze drawn to Qu Weiyin, who had fallen into a contemplative silence. There was a different kind of beauty to her in these quiet moments. The sharpness in her eyes softened, replaced by a contemplative calm. Her high cheekbones and delicate jawline were accentuated by a few stray strands of hair that had escaped her elaborate hairstyle, framing her face with a soft, alluring touch.

Luo Jinxiao finally understood the ancient saying, “Beauty that eclipses the ages, a face that puts the lotus flower to shame.” She could have stared at Qu Weiyin for hours.

“Junior Shishu, wait for me. I’ll find a way to break this forbidden technique. I’ll make sure he can never hurt you again,” Luo Jinxiao blurted out.

“With your abilities? Just focus on protecting yourself,” Qu Weiyin said, shaking her head. “He can’t touch me, not yet. It’s you he’s after.”

Undeterred by Qu Weiyin’s dismissal, Luo Jinxiao leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table, forcing Qu Weiyin to meet her gaze.

“Are you helping me because you’re afraid I’ll suffer the same fate?” she asked, a playful smile curving her lips.

Qu Weiyin didn’t answer, but her silence was confirmation enough.

“Then it’s settled. I always repay kindness with kindness. You’ve protected me, Junior Shishu. And I’ll protect you,” Luo Jinxiao said, her smile fading as her voice took on a determined edge.

Her eyes, as always, were bright and clear, and even when she wasn’t smiling, there was a lingering warmth in her expression.

Qu Weiyin quickly looked away, her voice regaining its usual coldness. “Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no ‘kindness’ between us. I simply did what was necessary. Now, if you’re done, go back to your class. I’ll speak to Elder He.”

“Yes, Junior Shishu,” Luo Jinxiao said, rising to her feet. But before she could leave, Qu Weiyin called out to her.

“Little… Qiongqi. He’s grown quite a bit since you last saw him. That pouch of yours probably won’t hold him anymore. Here, take this.” Qu Weiyin untied a pale pink pouch from her waist and offered it to Luo Jinxiao.

Luo Jinxiao’s eyes lit up. She opened her mouth to thank Qu Weiyin, but the other woman’s sharp tone stopped her.

“Consider it compensation for overfeeding him. It’s not for you,” Qu Weiyin said, her cheeks flushing slightly. She turned and vanished in a swirl of light and shadows.

Luo Jinxiao stared at the pouch, bewildered. She turned to Qiongqi, her lips twitching in amusement. “Come on, Little Sweetie. You have a new home.”

Qiongqi looked up at her, its furry face streaked with tears, its eyes squeezed shut in a display of melodramatic despair.

Luo Jinxiao stared back at it, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “What are you crying about?”