Reborn as a succubus - Chapter 4

Xi Che quickly stepped out of the house and saw Xi Luan holding a broom, yelling at several flashy-looking youths standing at the door, each with knives, spears, or clubs in hand. Xi Che could tell she was scared, but when she heard him approaching, Xi Luan still bravely stepped in front of him.

Xi Che couldn’t help frowning—just how unreliable had the original owner been, to the point where his younger sister had to protect him?

He didn’t say much. Instead, he stepped around from behind her and walked straight up to those people.

“Brother…!”

Xi Che gave her a glance and smiled. “It’s fine, your brother’s got this.”

He knew for sure they were here for revenge—their leader and a few others were the ones he’d beaten until their heads were bleeding and then tossed out a window.

He now remembered who they were. One short guy was named Rong Shi, their leader and the son of Rong Jiudao, the current prime minister of the Succubus clan.

This race was still stuck in a feudal-dynasty stage of history, still keeping positions like “prime minister.”

Rong Shi called out arrogantly, “Kid, I thought you were going to hide like a turtle and send your little sister out to take the hit.”

“Letting her take the hit’s not bad either—this little girl’s pretty cute.”

Their filthy words were loud enough for Xi Luan to hear, and as a young girl she couldn’t stand such talk. She was so angry her eyes were brimming with tears.

Xi Che didn’t get angry. He just counted their numbers, then asked in a calm voice, “You think you brought enough people?”

Rong Shi didn’t catch his meaning, so Xi Che kindly explained again, “For a revenge fight—this many people—enough?”

Now Rong Shi understood. He felt insulted and roared angrily, “Get him!”

The group rushed forward at once. Xi Luan screamed, but Xi Che swiftly snatched the broom from her hands and swept it in a wide arc, scattering the attackers.

They were just punks—young, with no real martial arts skill—and Xi Che’s broom strike sent them stumbling.

In his previous life, his weapon had been a war sword. The broom’s size was acceptable, but unfortunately the killing power was low.

After he scattered a few more with sweeping blows, the broom couldn’t withstand his strength and broke apart. Seeing this, Rong Shi charged with a narrow broadsword about three feet long. Xi Che met him head-on, kicked him hard in the stomach, seized his wrist, and twisted—wrenching the blade from his grasp. Rong Shi fell hard on his backside.

In fighting, Xi Che dared not boast about anything else, but in single combat or brawls—he excelled.

Clang!

The gleaming sword stabbed into the dirt, the blade’s cold light only two centimeters from Rong Shi’s slender neck.

At this sight, everyone froze as if under a spell.

Xi Che’s chest rose and fell rapidly. He grinned and looked down at Rong Shi. “Told you—didn’t bring enough people. Should’ve listened.”

—This body’s fitness was awful; just a little movement and he was out of breath.

Rong Shi’s face turned pale, speechless. Xi Che looked at the rest. “Still want to fight? Or should I just stick this blade in your young master’s tender neck?”

The gang glanced at each other, then dropped their weapons. “No fight! No fight! Just let Young Master Rong go.”

“Fine—but if you come harassing my sister every few days, we won’t stand for it. How about it, Young Master Rong? Care to make a promise?”

Staring at the blade so close, Rong Shi gulped nervously. “I… I’ll never bother you again.”

Xi Che raised an eyebrow. “Good. I believe you’re a man of your word. But let me warn you—next time, I won’t be so polite.”

—I’ll just kill you beasts.

Xi Che released him. Supported by his men, he limped away. Xi Luan then ran up, staring at Xi Che in shock. “Brother, you… you were so brave!”

Xi Che chuckled, just about to speak when a sudden whistling sound came at him. He reflexively sidestepped and caught hold of a shiny black whip. It wrapped tightly around his hand, and the momentum left his hand red and swollen; the whip’s barbs tore his palm until it was raw and bloody.

Frowning, he looked toward the source: under a tree not far away stood three men—one in a fox-fur coat, one pale-faced with an unpleasant expression, and one baby-faced who looked gentle.

The one in fox fur had attacked.

Beside him, Xi Luan screamed again. Xi Che frowned, pulled her behind him, shielding her with his body.

“Who are you people?”

He had barely spoken when his right hand went numb. He lost control and released the whip. It slithered from his grasp like a snake’s tail, leaving behind a burning pain that sank deep into his bones.

Xi Che’s eyes widened in shock, but then his strength drained away. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground.

In front of him squatted a foul-mouthed little black kitten, its fur standing on end.

“Really funny—you’re a war god! And you got sent to your happy afterlife by one whip? You should just kill yourself now and save some dignity.”

Xi Che lay there dejectedly, letting the white tiger curse him, feeling deeply embarrassed—this body was absurdly weak.

Now he had time to sort through fragmented memories of those men and slowly realized he might have provoked some very big shots.

The two men earlier were likely the current rulers of the Succubus court—Yuan Ting and Rong Jiudao. But weren’t Yuan Ting’s Military Faction and Rong Jiudao’s Jihe Faction mortal enemies? How were they standing together?

Yuan Ting was the one who’d whipped him, infamous for ruthless methods. The rumors were true—he hit hard.

“Stop nagging. So what now? Am I dead already?”

—Dead right after revival?

The white tiger sat nearby, sulking silently.

If he really died now, he felt unwilling. He hadn’t even had the chance to see Chu Yan again…

The white tiger snapped, “When will you stop being such a love-brain? Think about getting out of here!”

“Who the hell’s a love-brain? Who’s in love? I just want to see an old friend—is that wrong? Forget it, I’ll just wait to die.”

Xi Che wasn’t lying—his body was poisoned now. Even with the soul of a war god, what could he do? He could only wait for the poison to be processed slowly.

The white tiger was silent for a long time. “You’d better just be thinking of him as an old friend.”

“…Damn it.”

Xi Che ignored him, turned over, and closed his eyes to pretend to sleep. But as he pretended, he really did fall asleep. Who knows how much time passed before he vaguely felt someone moving his body.

Oh? He could control this body again?

He tried to sit up, but as soon as he moved, searing pain shot through him—just like the whip’s poison. Then a gentle male voice spoke by his ear: “If you don’t want to die, don’t move.”

Xi Che frowned—this voice sounded familiar. He thought hard.

It seemed like the baby-faced man who had been with Yuan Ting earlier.

What was he doing?

A cool liquid was poured into Xi Che’s mouth. As it slid down his throat, the burning pain in his body faded away miraculously.

Was this an antidote?

The man said again, “Now open your eyes.”

Xi Che didn’t know what was going on, but decided to follow orders and opened his eyes.

The room was dim, lit only by a few candles. A man sat beside him, staring at him intently. Seeing Xi Che open his eyes, a clear smile flickered in the man’s gaze.

“He’s awake, awake. This kid’s physical constitution isn’t bad.”

Then, footsteps approached.

The second person Xi Che saw after opening his eyes was—Yuan Ting.

Xi Che looked at him, then at the man beside him, staying silent. What was going on…?

Ah, wait—he seemed to understand.

The factions’ struggle had never ceased. They fought over everything—including people… so was he just conscripted?

Help! What era was this—people still just grabbing random folks to draft?

Yuan Ting saw him staring without fear or anger, and a playful smile appeared on his face. “Seeing us, you don’t seem very surprised.”

Xi Che pressed his lips together, silent for a moment, before slowly speaking. “I’m very surprised.”