Chapter 11: Do You Really Not Want to Come with Me?

This was the second time that night He Yimo left Mo Yuyan’s backyard.

Though he appeared calm on the surface, inside he was still a bit tense. Walking through the Grand Tutor’s courtyard, He Yimo’s eyes darted around, secretly searching for the red enchantress who might appear at any moment.

But this time, Jiang Jinyue didn’t show up.

Perhaps it was because a white-clad fairy was escorting him with her sword.

“Don’t worry, even if someone is framing you, after failing the first time, they wouldn’t be foolish enough to try again and get caught,” Mo Yuyan said from behind, a hint of helplessness in her voice.

She had intended to send He Yimo off.

But He Yimo insisted there was a demoness outside who would harm him, and he was too scared to walk alone at night. Mo Yuyan had no choice but to put on her shoes and escort He Yimo home.

“You’re probably the first to be afraid of ghosts in your own Grand Tutor’s residence,” she teased.

He Yimo glanced at her, wanting to speak but refrained, not wanting to argue with Mo Yuyan.

After all, the Wuji Sect’s senior sister was the least qualified to question the Grand Tutor’s residence. Although the Enchantress appeared at the Grand Tutor’s residence tonight, in the “Fallen Immortal” original story, Jiang Jinyue was almost entirely lurking in the Wuji Sect, disguised as a harmless junior sister, secretly guiding events, nearly getting the protagonist killed several times.

And all this, the high elders of the Wuji Sect were unaware of, even the protagonist himself didn’t know Jiang Jinyue’s true identity.

“It’s just to be safe.”

“What if I fall under an illusion again and rush into the changing room to tackle you?”

He Yimo said with a hint of sarcasm. If he could reveal his past life’s memories, he would have exposed Jiang Jinyue’s witch background and her identity as an insider junior sister in the Wuji Sect.

But if he did, no one would likely believe him, and He Yimo would be doomed.

Mo Yuyan opened her mouth, hesitated, and said nothing.

“It seems that the mastermind really left a significant shadow on you.”

“You, as the unrivaled sword master of the Wuji Sect, the world’s chosen one, how could you understand the fears of a small ant like me?”

“Heh, if I truly didn’t understand, why would I agree to escort you home?”

“That’s true, the fairy is quite kind.”

In their banter, they arrived at He Yimo’s residence.

Mo Yuyan glanced around, noticing that He Yimo’s room was small and simple, almost the most inconspicuous in the Grand Tutor’s residence.

In contrast, the guest room provided to Mo Yuyan by the Grand Tutor’s residence not only had a front yard but also a hot spring pool in the backyard, a picture of luxury.

“Thank you for escorting me, Fairy,” He Yimo said, cupping his hands in gratitude.

“One last time, do you want to come to the Wuji Sect?”

Under the moonlight, the white-clad fairy’s cold eyes were clear.

She paused, then explained, “The master ordered me to bring you up the mountain to cultivate. You don’t need to pass the sect’s assessment; you can directly become the master’s disciple. Then you’ll be my junior brother, and I’ll protect you.”

He Yimo couldn’t help but recall his past life’s memories.

In the original story, the protagonist wasn’t initially Mo Yuyan’s junior brother, but after a series of events, he ended up in that position.

He Yimo had already offended the sycophant Zhong Yuhe tonight. If he went to the Wuji Sect, he’d be taking the protagonist’s place.

Offending both the villain and the protagonist, wouldn’t that be pure bad luck?

Wouldn’t it be better to stay in the Grand Tutor’s residence and cling to his aunt?

“Sorry, everyone has their own aspirations.”

He Yimo refused again without hesitation.

Mo Yuyan looked at him, a sly glint in her cold eyes, but she said nothing more and silently left.

……

……

……

The next morning, birds chirped, and flowers bloomed.

He Yimo was awakened by a melodious bird singing on his bedside table.

Annoyed, he sat up with dark circles under his eyes, patting the bird’s head until it finally stopped its endless chirping.

But when He Yimo tried to go back to sleep, the little creature started singing again, flapping its wings.

Helpless, He Yimo got up.

When he was nine, his aunt brought home a golden lark and told He Yimo to take good care of the cute little life.

Honestly, He Yimo didn’t like it at first.

The lark was too noisy, chirping in his ear every morning, forcing He Yimo to change his late-night habits from his past life.

Eventually, He Yimo named it Ling’er, simply meaning alarm clock.

“Ah, it’s nice to be alive for another day.”

“Looks like Jiang Jinyue didn’t make another move on me last night.”

He Yimo stretched, heading to the bathroom to wash his face.

Last night, worried about falling under an illusion again, he stayed up until dawn, afraid the elusive fox would cast another spell, leaving him tired this morning.

If not for Ling’er, He Yimo could have slept until noon.

“If nothing goes wrong, Mo Yuyan should return to the Wuji Sect today.”

After washing his face, He Yimo recalled last night’s events.

“Aunt was so sure she’d teach me to cultivate last night…”

“If she really promised the elders, she’ll try to unlock my demon bloodline.”

“Hey! The day for cannon fodder to rise has come!”

With this thought, He Yimo hummed a tune, his earlier fatigue replaced by confidence.

But just then, the door burst open—

“He Yimo, did you get into trouble again last night?”

Yuan Xinyao’s face was tense, her light golden phoenix eyes anxiously fixed on He Yimo.

He Yimo turned to look, his expression betraying a hint of tension.

This was one of many times in the past two days he struggled to maintain composure.

His perfect plan kept encountering unexpected setbacks. First, he didn’t expect Yuan Xinyao to catch him at Pin Feng Lou, then he didn’t anticipate Mo Yuyan’s obsessive chess behavior, and finally, he didn’t foresee the mastermind being Jiang Jinyue, the Enchantress…

Now, He Yimo had PTSD at heart. (tln : Post-traumatic stress disorder )

Seeing Yuan Xinyao’s worried expression made his heart skip a beat, sweat pouring down his back.

“I don’t think I got into any trouble.”

“If you didn’t, why would Mo Yuyan ask to see you in front of the elders first thing in the morning?”

Yuan Xinyao was equally puzzled, looking at He Yimo’s little face with growing concern.

She seemed more anxious than He Yimo.

Like a guardian afraid their child had gotten into trouble outside…

“Last night, didn’t Mo Yuyan already fall out with you?”

“Didn’t she think you were a waste and refuse to take you up the mountain?”

“Now she’s asking for you again, it can’t be good!”

……

……

……

“Last night, my son overstepped, and the family will punish him according to our rules.”

“I hope Fairy Mo will forgive him.”

In the main hall, He Chensheng’s face was troubled, his hands cupped in a respectful bow.

He had only heard about last night’s commotion this morning, learning of He Yimo’s intrusion into Mo Yuyan’s bath.

As one of the Grand Tutor’s family heads, He Chensheng felt ashamed.

But bowing was his greatest apology; after all, this was still the Grand Tutor’s territory, and Mo Yuyan was just a disciple of the Wuji Sect. He couldn’t really hand over his son to her.

“Master He, you’re overthinking.”

Seeing He Chensheng’s difficulty, the white-clad fairy stood up, returning the bow with respect.

She narrowed her cold eyes, glancing at Zhong Yuhe not far away, then smiled softly:

“Last night was just a misunderstanding, the seventh son has already apologized and clarified.”

“I’m here today not to accuse, but to honor the agreement between my master and the Grand Tutor, to take the seventh son up the mountain to cultivate.”

“Of course…”

“That’s only if the seventh son himself agrees.”

—