Chapter 82: Bitch, I’ll Ask You One Last Time

`He really has… grown up…`

No. That wasn’t right.

The truth was, he’d never been a rebellious, spoiled brat. He’d always been like this, even from a young age. She remembered, years ago, little He Yimo holding her hand tightly after some competition, his small face earnest, promising her that next year, he would win first place, and he’d give her the prize – a little silver bell. And he had. He’d stood on that podium, proud and beaming, and presented her with that very bell in front of everyone.

Yuan Xinyao hadn’t been mistaken about his core nature, not then, not ever. She’d just… never truly understood the depths of his thoughts, his true self, even after living with him for sixteen years. For a fleeting, painful moment, she felt like the inadequate one. She’d thought she knew him inside and out, but today… today felt like she was truly seeing him for the first time. So strange… yet so achingly familiar.

“He Yimo…” the red-gowned woman sighed, a wistful smile playing on her lips beneath the Crimson Kite Mask. Her light-golden phoenix eyes softened, a ripple of warmth spreading through her. Even though she was currently in her ‘Bailing Pavilion Master’ persona, hearing He Yimo’s fierce, protective declaration… it warmed Yuan Xinyao’s heart. All those years of spoiling that little pervert at the Grand Tutor’s Fu… they hadn’t been in vain.

With a decisive wave of her hand, she uncrossed her legs and re-crossed them in the other direction beneath her robes, her voice suddenly generous. “Since Young Master He has made such a… passionate vow… this Pavilion Master will only accept one paper crane.”

“But remember this,” she added, her tone turning serious again, “this one crane isn’t a favor to your Little Aunt. This Pavilion Master is betting on you, on the future you just so boldly proclaimed.”

“When you leave today, cultivate diligently. Don’t disappoint this Pavilion Master!”

Hearing this, He Yimo, still kneeling before the screen, initially felt a surge of relief. But then, as he processed her words, a cold sweat broke out on his forehead. A very awkward, very dangerous realization dawned. He’d initially spoken so frankly about the… forbidden items… because he’d assumed the Bailing Pavilion Master, like her game counterpart, was a purely pragmatic merchant who didn’t care about her clients’ identities or motives. But if she was willing to make an exception now and not sell him those items because of his Little Aunt… then she would also, very likely, report his attempt to buy them to his Little Aunt! Oh, SHIT.

“Um…” He Yimo began, his voice suddenly small and hesitant, a look of pure dread on his face. “C-Could I… maybe give you another paper crane… if you promise… not to tell my Little Aunt what I said tonight…?”

Behind the screen, the red-kited woman tilted her head, momentarily paused, then a soft chuckle escaped her lips, amused by his suddenly furtive, guilty demeanor.

“Mmm-hmm~♡” she purred, her voice laced with teasing delight. “From the look of utter terror on Young Master He’s face… it seems you’re quite afraid your Little Aunt will find out you were trying to buy… naughty things… and give you a good thrashing, are you~?” She wasn’t even trying to hide her amusement now.

He Yimo had no idea what was so funny. His Little Aunt’s phoenix-patterned jade-slippered foot was not a soft, fluffy ice cream cone. If she found out he’d tried to buy those kinds of things… she’d hunt him down to Wuji Sect and kick his ass so hard it’d split in two!

“I’m not joking! Little Aunt will literally kill me…”

“She’s your Little Aunt. How could she bear to kill you~?”

“Okay, maybe ‘kill’ is an exaggeration,” He Yimo conceded, “but if she finds out I tried to buy those… substances… she will definitely travel all the way here and beat the ever-loving crap out of me—” He gestured wildly with his hands, his voice filled with genuine, remembered pain.

But before he could finish his sentence, the woman behind the Crimson Kite Mask couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Pfft! Bwahahaha~!” Peals of unrestrained laughter echoed from behind the screen.

“W-What?! Is it really that funny?!” He Yimo scowled, completely baffled by her inexplicable amusement. In a strange way, he was now deeply empathizing with Ji Zichen’s earlier, dark-faced humiliation. This Bailing Pavilion Master really was as rumored – mischievous, almost sadistic. It seemed every single client who came to buy from her ended up being thoroughly humiliated before leaving with a black face.

“Ahem! M-My apologies, my apologies,” the red-gowned woman managed, trying to compose herself, though her shoulders were still shaking. “I am the Bailing Pavilion Master, a professional Western Region merchant. I… I don’t normally laugh…” She cleared her throat, straightening her posture.

“You were saying? How exactly does she… beat you? Do continue~”

“Well,” He Yimo began, his voice still laced with dread, “first, she usually tackles me… then she ties me up with red silk ropes, five-flower style… then she throws me on the bed… then she takes off her shoes… and while she’s lecturing me… she kicks me really hard right in the ass crack—”

He was halfway through his vivid, traumatized description when he heard a distinct, smothered giggle. He snapped his head up, glaring at the screen.

Beneath the Crimson Kite Mask, the woman’s body was trembling as she nodded vigorously. “Mm-hmm, I’m not laughing. Go on, go on… Tell me more…”

“YOU! I know you don’t understand!” He Yimo protested, frustrated. “You haven’t seen her! My Little Aunt… she looks all lively and cute, like a delicate, fragile girl who needs protecting! But that’s just a DISGUISE! One time, I went to the Phoenix Cry Pavilion… and just because I touched something I shouldn’t have… she went absolutely BALLISTIC! Like a rabid dog! She beat me so badly… It’s… It’s really hard to describe how terrifying she can be—!”

“PFFT! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA—!!!”

Finally, the red-gowned woman behind the screen completely lost it. She was clutching her stomach, howling with laughter, leaning so far back on her chaise longue that her delicate, jade-like feet, now bare, kicked and dangled playfully in the air.

“YOU’VE BEEN LAUGHING THE WHOLE TIME! YOU HAVEN’T STOPPED AT ALL!” He Yimo slammed his fist on the floor, his composure finally shattering. He’d poured out his soul, described his deepest traumas, and all he got in return was more uproarious, schadenfreude-filled laughter!

“Look, just… please, I’m begging you,” He Yimo pleaded, his voice strained. “Don’t tell my Little Aunt about any of this. If she beats my ass black and blue, your Bailing Pavilion will lose a very promising, super-VIP customer in the future! Think of the lost revenue!”

“Alright, alright, Young Master He, rest assured,” Yuan Xinyao finally managed, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes, though her lips were still twitching with suppressed laughter. She nodded gravely, several times. “This Pavilion Master is a consummate professional. I’ve been operating in Xizhou City for many years, built on integrity and fair trade… So, Young Master He, please, believe in the reputation of Bailing Pavilion! Your secret is safe with me!”

He Yimo took a deep, shuddering breath. The knot of anxiety in his chest finally loosened. “Okay… Well… That’s all I have to say then. Thank you again, Pavilion Master, for the… generous supply of excellent pills today.”

“In that case, Yimo has no further requests. I shall take my leave for now.” He cupped his fists, bowed deeply, and even added a slight Western Region-style flourish for good measure. He saw the red-gowned figure behind the screen give a slight nod, so he turned to leave.

However, just as He Yimo reached for the door handle, another thought struck him. He paused.

“Is there something else, Young Master He~?” the voice from behind the screen purred, the light-golden phoenix eyes glinting with amusement.

He Yimo hesitated. He really didn’t want to bother the Pavilion Master with such a trivial matter, but then he remembered the black-clad woman’s impatient, disdainful attitude. He sighed. Might as well get it sorted out now. “The young lady who accompanied me… Before I entered, she was taken away by that woman in black. She said the Pavilion Master had made arrangements to… entertain us for dinner…”

“It’s just… I don’t know which private room she was taken to.” He Yimo finished, his tone slightly apologetic, nodding slightly.

As he spoke, the playful amusement in the Pavilion Master’s demeanor slowly vanished. The curve of her lips flattened. Her phoenix eyes narrowed, the gentle warmth replaced by a sharp, piercing glint. Even through the screen and the mask, He Yimo felt a sudden, intense pressure, as if he were being scrutinized by a predator. A cold sweat prickled his brow again. He had no idea what he’d said to offend her, but his instincts were screaming danger.

“Oh…?” The Pavilion Master’s voice was now a low, cold purr, dripping with a sarcasm that bordered on contempt. “Now that you mention it… This Pavilion Master does seem to recall something of the sort…”

She beckoned with a delicate, jade-like hand towards He Yimo’s confused face, signaling him to come closer to the screen.

Although a primal sense of alarm was blaring in his mind, He Yimo considered her status, and the fact that she had still been somewhat appreciative of him moments ago. He swallowed hard and obediently approached the deep crimson silk screen.

Snap!

Thud!

With a casual snap of her fingers, an immense, terrifying pressure slammed down on He Yimo. His knees buckled instinctively, and he found himself crashing to the floor, kneeling abjectly at the foot of the red-gowned woman’s chaise longue.

“Young Master He… Do you happen to remember… what that young lady’s name was again~?”

“R-Reporting to Pavilion Master… Her name is Yun Jin.”

“Oh, Yun Jin, is it…? And what, pray tell, is she… to Young Master He?”

“…?” He Yimo frowned, glancing up. From this kneeling angle, all he could see through the red filter of the screen was a hint of a delicate, crystalline jade foot peeking out from beneath the hem of her red gown, exuding a faint, intoxicatingly seductive fragrance. He didn’t dare say too much, just answered honestly.

“Yun Jin… she… she is my Senior Sister from Wuji Sect. We were on an Immortal Alliance mission together, which is why she accompanied me to Xuanfeng Pavilion.”

“Just… a Senior Sister? No… special relationship?”

“None whatsoever!”

“Good. That makes things simpler.”

“W-What… What do you mean?”

“Since you brought her here… according to the rules of Xuanfeng Pavilion… this Pavilion Master simply… sold her off.” A cold, mysterious smile curved the Pavilion Master’s lips behind the screen. “Business is business, after all. Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices to make a profit, wouldn’t you agree~?”

She watched the growing shock and disbelief on the young man’s face, a flicker of something – jealousy? possessiveness? – igniting in her own heart, making her tone even more disdainful. “What’s wrong? She’s just some unknown human girl. You’ve only known her for a short while. Is her fate really so important that it affects your mood like this? Is she… Is she more valuable than the treasures this Pavilion Master has just bestowed upon you?”

“—?” He Yimo looked up, staring at the figure behind the screen, his brow furrowed. He blinked slowly. The anger, the shock… it seemed to have bypassed all normal thresholds and landed somewhere in the realm of bewildered, almost hysterical amusement. He actually gave a short, sharp, incredulous laugh, shrugging his shoulders.

The atmosphere in the opulent chamber instantly became strange, almost surreal. He Yimo just pursed his lips, feeling like he was in a dream, unsure what expression he was even supposed to make.

Meanwhile, behind the screen, the red-gowned woman’s eyebrows arched higher, the oppressive aura emanating from her intensifying. But even as Yuan Xinyao cranked her intimidating pressure to its maximum, the young Foundation Establishment boy kneeling before her just kept staring at her with that same disbelieving, almost-laughing-in-outrage expression.

“Pavilion Master… Are you… joking with me?” He Yimo finally asked, his voice dangerously calm. He’d run through countless scenarios from the original game’s timeline in his head, but this… this level of absurd, out-of-character cruelty… even the most notoriously sadistic game developers who loved to screw over players wouldn’t dare design something this outrageous.

If she wasn’t joking… then only one other explanation made sense to He Yimo. She had somehow caused Yun Jin to deviate from her original, fated death. And now, under the influence of that ‘invisible hand’ the Demoness of Delight had once described, ‘Fate’ was intervening in some other bizarre, convoluted way to ensure Yun Jin died anyway. It was a ridiculous conclusion… but given everything He Yimo had experienced so far, the subtle manipulations of destiny he’d sensed… it felt chillingly plausible.

“Tch…” Behind the screen, the red-gowned woman sensed the sudden, dangerous shift in the atmosphere. As He Yimo’s Little Aunt, Yuan Xinyao, of course, would never actually do anything to harm Yun Jin. She’d just been… testing him. Casually. Using her Bailing Pavilion Master persona to gauge the true depth of He Yimo’s feelings for this girl. But now, seeing He Yimo’s face turn thunderously dark… the answer was painfully, infuriatingly obvious.

That little pervert… He’d only been away from the Fu for a few days, and he’d already found a sweetheart in the Immortal Sect! The thought sent a pang of irritation, and something akin to… annoyance?… through Yuan Xinyao. She waved her hand dismissively. “Fine, fine. Actually, this Pavilion Master didn’t really do anything to your little—”

But this time, before she could finish her clarification, the black-robed young man kneeling before her suddenly vanished, dissolving into a blur of crimson after-images—!

“…An illusion!” Yuan Xinyao gasped, her eyes darting around the room. “When—?!” He was gone. Not a trace of his aura remained. But a terrifying, unprecedented wave of killing intent washed over her, making the fine hairs on her arms stand on end, a cold sweat breaking out on her face beneath the mask. This is bad. This is REALLY bad. Yuan Xinyao instantly shed her arrogant, playful demeanor. Her cultivation exploded outwards, her spiritual sense sweeping through the entire chamber, desperately searching for He Yimo’s presence.

“—!” In a fraction of a second, she sensed the killing intent coalesce behind her. She tried to uncross her legs, to leap up and evade—but it was too late. An arm, covered in blood-red, draconic scales, shot into her peripheral vision from behind the chaise longue—

“Ack!”

“Cough! Gkkk—! Urghh!”

The Abyssal Dragon Armguard, moving at an impossible angle, seemed to phase through the back of the chaise longue. It wrapped around her neck, the crook of its elbow joint cinching tight, brutally slamming her back down onto the seat just as she’d begun to rise. Yuan Xinyao choked, gasping for air, her vision swimming. She caught a glimpse in the ornate, floor-length mirror in the corner… Behind the chaise longue stood a figure, He Yimo, his meridians glowing with a ferocious, blood-red light beneath his dark clothes. He slowly brought his right hand, now clutching a dagger sheathed in the same crimson scales, up beside her face.

“Bitch,” he hissed, his voice no longer subservient, but cold, contemptuous, utterly devoid of its earlier respect. A puff of blackish-red, demonic Qi escaped his lips. His dark, demonic eyes stared at her as if she were nothing more than a piece of livestock. “I’ll ask you one last time.”

The cold steel of the dagger pressed against her cheek. Yuan Xinyao gritted her teeth in humiliation and pain. But when she heard that single, chilling word – Bitch – whispered so coldly in her ear… a strange, involuntary shiver ran through her. After a brief, choked gasp of anger and suffocation, her body went unnaturally stiff. Her legs clamped together tightly beneath her robes, a violent tremor running through her.

At that precise moment, the doors to the chamber burst open. The black-clad woman rushed in, her eyes wide with alarm, a Western-style knight’s rapier materializing in her hand from the_shadows. “Pavilion Master! Pavilion Master?!” she cried out, her first call sharp with killing intent, ready to defend. But as she took in the scene within the room, her second call softened, laced with utter confusion.

He Yimo merely flicked his dark eyes towards the newcomer at the door, then lowered his gaze nonchalantly, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. Right in front of the black-clad attendant, he slowly, deliberately, slid the tip of the blood-scaled dagger towards the Pavilion Master’s lips.

Yuan Xinyao, terrified of being cut, yet unable to move due to the choking grip on her neck, could only struggle weakly. As the dagger neared, her legs squeezed together even tighter, her body trembling uncontrollably. She forced her lips open, allowing He Yimo to roughly shove the cold, metallic blade deep into her mouth.

“Tell me,” he whispered, his breath hot against her ear, his eyes like chips of obsidian, his tone a horrifying blend of cold fury and almost… sick… gentleness. “Where the FUCK did you sell Yun Jin?”

“I am the Seventh Young Master of the Grand Tutor’s Fu. You’d better tell me the truth. Otherwise, today, all ties between us are severed. And don’t blame me when I return later… and burn this Bailing Pavilion to the FUCKING ground.”

(Meanwhile, on the seventh floor of Xuanfeng Pavilion…)

“Hmm-hmm~ Hmm-hmm-hmm~♡” A happy, contented humming sound drifted from within a luxurious private room.