Transmigrated as The Cannon Fodder Bride of The Villainess

Three words echoed in Luo Jinxiao’s mind: Don’t. Dare. Move.

“Hey, wake up,” Luo Jinxiao called out, attempting to rouse the unconscious girl, but it was no use.

Qu Weiyin seemed to be enduring immense pain. Her grip on Luo Jinxiao’s arm tightened, making it almost impossible to breathe. Her face was as pale as snow, and even her lips were devoid of color, looking incredibly weak.

The only sound that escaped her was a soft whimper of pain.

Helpless, Luo Jinxiao wrapped one arm around her, the other hand rising to gather what little spiritual energy she could muster, slowly feeding it into Qu Weiyin’s body.

Qu Weiyin’s own spiritual energy was abundant, yet chaotic and erratic, like a wild beast rampaging within her. It wasn’t the telltale sign of demonic cultivation; Luo Jinxiao had encountered enough cultivators who had succumbed to demonic cultivation to recognize the signs.

Qu Weiyin’s condition, however, felt like some kind of insidious Gu poison.

Could this be the reason she ultimately becomes a Demon Lord? Luo Jinxiao felt a chill down her spine, afraid to dwell on the thought.

If only she had her previous life’s cultivation, she might have been able to help. But in her current state, she was powerless to deal with such a situation.

After hesitating for a moment, Luo Jinxiao decided to let go and call for help. But as soon as she loosened her grip, Qu Weiyin clung even tighter, like a drowning person grasping at a lifeline.

After a brief struggle, Luo Jinxiao gave up, gasping for breath. She stretched her neck and looked around. This place seemed extremely secluded, with rocks behind and naturally hot water in the spring, steaming with white mist.

Since Qu Weiyin had hidden here alone, she probably didn’t want anyone to find out, so she couldn’t call for help.

Luo Jinxiao vaguely remembered hearing about a thousand-year-old hot spring on the mountain, whose water gathered the essence of heaven and earth, known for its beneficial effects on cultivation.

This must be the place.

Well, it’s better than doing nothing. She couldn’t just leave her here. What kind of righteous person would she be? Resolving herself, Luo Jinxiao took a deep breath and daringly lifted Qu Weiyin.

Still a young woman herself, carrying Qu Weiyin proved to be quite the challenge. Gritting her teeth, she shuffled towards the edge of the spring.

But unexpectedly, her hand slipped and her foot faltered, causing Qu Weiyin to fall into the pool with a splash, water splattering everywhere.

Luo Jinxiao coughed, trying to mask her embarrassment.

“Don’t blame me, Demon Lord, don’t blame me. I’m trying to save your life here,” she muttered under her breath.

Standing in the water, Luo Jinxiao let Qu Weiyin lean against her, then mobilized all her spiritual energy, slowly channeling it into her body.

Interestingly, while she couldn’t absorb Qu Weiyin’s spiritual energy, her own seemed to have a calming, almost healing effect, flowing smoothly into Qu Weiyin without any resistance.

Despite her confusion, Luo Jinxiao continued, steadily transferring her energy. Perhaps aided by the properties of the hot spring, not only was her energy not depleted, but it seemed to be replenishing itself.

This could be an interesting place for some late-night cultivation, she thought with a smirk.

After an unknown amount of time, Qu Weiyin finally showed signs of life. Her head rolled on Luo Jinxiao’s shoulder, seemingly waking up, but her eyes remained closed.

Seeing her like this, any lingering fear Luo Jinxiao harbored for the Demon Lord evaporated, replaced by a wave of pity.

Qu Weiyin looked so vulnerable, so unlike her fearsome reputation. And Luo Jinxiao, despite everything, was a good person at heart.

“Does it still hurt?” Luo Jinxiao whispered, her voice full of concern.

In her daze, Qu Weiyin heard a voice and instinctively prepared to attack, but in reality, she only managed to lift her hand slightly.

She was puzzled. After living for thousands of years, when had she ever heard such a gentle tone?

Perhaps she wanted to hear it again. Or perhaps, for a fleeting moment, her heart softened. Whatever the reason, the strike she had been about to unleash never came.

At that moment, a loud bird call sounded in the distance. Luo Jinxiao suddenly remembered the time. She quickly helped Qu Weiyin to the edge of the spring. “You’re alright now, Demon Lord. I must be going!” Luo Jinxiao said as she turned to leave. After taking a few steps, she couldn’t bear it and turned back, picking up the scattered clothes nearby and gently covering Qu Weiyin with them.

She really does have a magnificent figure, Luo Jinxiao thought, her gaze lingering on the long, slender legs, the creamy white skin that could rival the finest jade. The thin silken sash loosely tied around a waist so slender it could be held with one hand, and above that…

Heat crept up Luo Jinxiao’s cheeks. She quickly averted her gaze, her heart pounding in her chest.

A righteous cultivator should not be disrespectful.

Lowering her eyes, she shuffled closer and pulled the robes higher, ensuring Qu Weiyin’s modesty was preserved, before finally taking her leave.

Qu Weiyin lay alone by the spring, the steam rising from the water mirroring the clouds drifting lazily across the sky.

A soft cough escaped her lips as she opened her eyes. Her delicate hand brushed against the fabric resting on her shoulder. Still hazy, she slowly sat up.

She always forbade anyone from entering while she cultivated here, yet that little waste had broken in and discovered her secret.

But was the one who helped her just now really that same person?

Qu Weiyin stared at her palm, her eyes narrowing slightly. Suddenly, a flame erupted in her hand. Under the fierce blaze, her gaze looked particularly terrifying.

Halfway up the mountain, at the white jade platform.

Luo Jinxiao stood among the bustling crowd, looking up at a person standing on the platform.

He was a picture of disciplined elegance, with his sword-like brows and bright eyes. The very image of a righteous cultivator. But as she looked closer, Luo Jinxiao couldn’t help but scoff.

Isn’t that the same man who barged into the room with Qu Chengfeng the other day?

“All disciples present today must pass three trials before they can join the Wuhui Sect!” the man declared, his voice booming across the crowd.

A wave of murmurs, a mixture of excitement and apprehension, rippled through the assembled hopefuls.

“Why are there trials? Does this mean I might not get into the Wuhui Sect?” a tall young man grumbled.

“Young man, don’t complain. I’ve cultivated for eighty years and finally have this chance. If I fail, I’ll have to go back and wait to die,” an elderly man behind Luo Jinxiao said, nearly making her laugh out loud.

“You should be worrying about yourself instead of laughing at others,” a voice sneered beside her, laced with disdain.

Luo Jinxiao turned to see the same young woman she had encountered before – the one who had mocked her along with Luo Mei and had ended up being knocked off the large bird.

“There’s no need to worry,” Luo Jinxiao replied calmly, a hint of amusement in her eyes.

It wasn’t as if joining the Wuhui Sect was the only path to cultivation. It was just that having a good master within a prestigious sect could accelerate her progress significantly. And who would say no to that?

“You don’t even have a spiritual root. How do you expect to pass the trials?” The young woman stepped in front of her, a mocking smile plastered across her face. “I suggest you save yourself, and your family, the embarrassment and withdraw now.”

Luo Jinxiao sighed inwardly. She couldn’t understand what grudge this girl held against the original Luo Jinxiao to warrant such animosity.

“The First Trial!” boomed the voice of the disciple from the platform.

Several disciples in white robes, all ranked at the third level, descended from the white jade platform. They lined up, awaiting the hopefuls who would soon have their spiritual roots tested.

The girl shot Luo Jinxiao a provocative look before striding forward and standing casually in front of a disciple. “Go ahead,” she said, arms crossed.

The disciple extended two fingers, his lips moving silently as he channeled his energy. A thin, white thread of light extended from his fingertips towards the young woman’s temple. A moment later, he announced, “Foundation Establishment, Stage Three.”

The crowd behind her murmured in envy. Although it was only Foundation Establishment, reaching stage three at her age was quite an achievement.

“Pass,” the disciple said, turning his gaze to Luo Jinxiao at the back.

“Don’t waste your time on her,” the young woman interjected, unable to resist another jab. “She’s nothing but a talentless waste without a spiritual root. You won’t find anything there.”

Luo Jinxiao simply ignored her. She never had the patience for such petty squabbles. It didn’t matter what their history was; it wouldn’t affect her in the slightest.

“Those below Foundation Establishment, do not pass,” came another voice from behind.

Luo Jinxiao turned to meet a pair of eyes filled with malice.

It was the man in white.

“Senior Brother Siyu,” the surrounding disciples bowed respectfully.

So this was Chang Siyu. Luo Jinxiao studied him for a moment, feeling a tinge of regret.

In another two thousand years, he’d be a tragic figure. As one of the top cultivators in the cultivation world world, he would be hopelessly in love with Demon Lord Qu Weiyin for a thousand years, turning his hair white in longing for her.

In the end, during the great war between immortals and demons, he would betray the righteous path to aid the demonic side, leading to his demise at the hands of the righteous sects.

So that’s where the hostility stems from. Luo Jinxiao realized. He probably sees me as a rival for Qu Weiyin’s affections.

“Step aside. I’ll test her,” Chang Siyu declared, his voice a low growl.

He pushed past the other disciples and stood before Luo Jinxiao, his powerful aura pressing down on her, a deliberate attempt to intimidate.

Luo Jinxiao felt a tightness in her chest but stood her ground. “Please,” she said calmly.

Chang Siyu moved his two fingers, and spiritual energy surged into Luo Jinxiao’s mind. She closed her eyes, letting him test her.

She remembered this moment from her past life. Back then, she had already reached the Golden Core stage. But now, with her spiritual root altered, she had no idea what to expect.

Time stretched on. The other hopefuls had all been tested, yet Chang Siyu’s hand remained on her forehead, his brow frowned in concentration, as if grappling with a puzzle he couldn’t solve.

More and more people gathered around, whispering and causing a commotion.

After what felt like an eternity, Chang Siyu finally withdrew his hand, sweat dripping from his forehead. He stared at Luo Jinxiao, a mixture of shock and confusion on his face. “How is this possible…?” he muttered to himself.

“Senior Brother Siyu, does she have a spiritual root or not? If not, just kick her out!” the girl impatiently interjected.

“Who dares to cause such a commotion?”

A cool, crisp voice cut through the noise. Chang Siyu was startled and quickly turned around, his expression suddenly filled with fervent anticipation. Before he could say anything, the newcomer walked past him, heading straight for Luo Jinxiao.

The crowd parted like the sea before her.

“Junior Shishu Qu,” the disciples called out, bowing.

It was Qu Weiyin. She had changed into a pristine red robe, her every movement radiating an aura of effortless grace. A sword, named Crescent Star Sword, its surface shimmering with starlight, hung casually at her side.

Qu Weiyin glanced at Chang Siyu with a frown and raised her hand lightly, instantly relieving the pressure on Luo Jinxiao.

Without looking at her, Qu Weiyin asked coldly, “What is happening here?”

“Junior Shishu Qu,” Chang Siyu replied cautiously, “She… she possesses a spiritual root, but I can’t determine its stage.”

“Oh?” Qu Weiyin’s brow arched in interest. She took a step closer, and a delicate floral scent surrounded Luo Jinxiao.

Luo Jinxiao swallowed nervously, instinctively taking a step back.

“Don’t move,” Qu Weiyin ordered sternly, grabbing the back of Luo Jinxiao’s head to stop her from retreating.

“If you can’t stay, I’ll kill you,” Qu Weiyin whispered, her voice barely audible. Suddenly, she moved forward, and their foreheads gently touched.