The ninth villainess Chen An had raised lived in a world of cultivation—mysterious and fantastical, filled with bizarre wonders.
In that world, the lives of ordinary people were as insignificant as ants. All things were lowly; only by cultivating immortality could one grasp even a thread of survival.
So it was only natural that, as a Mahayana-stage cultivator in such a world, he had learned a spell or two. Take the one he had just used—Divine Step—a low-grade spell. It required very little spiritual energy and had a simple effect.
But it was a must-have technique for any early-stage cultivator. One only needed to channel the spell into their legs to move like the wind and as lightly as a swallow. It was perfect for travel—or for sneaking over walls at night. Extremely practical.
It also suited Chen An's current situation—just returned to Earth, with his spiritual energy almost completely depleted. Though he retained the realm of a Mahayana cultivator, the spiritual power he could currently access was no thicker than a strand of hair.
Restoring it to the vast, ocean-like scale of his ninth life? That could take ages. But Chen An didn't mind. This time, all he wanted was to live a peaceful life—walk dogs, tease cats, and experience what it meant to be an ordinary person.
—
Qing City, Second Hospital.
Cardiology Department.
Dr. Qin held a freshly printed medical report in his hands. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. It felt as if he had woken up too abruptly this morning—was he hallucinating? But no, this was already the third round of tests. The results were consistent.
"This really is… a medical miracle," Dr. Qin muttered as he smacked his lips.
When he had first started as a medical intern, the older doctors used to say—stick around long enough, and you'd see something inexplicable. Like the boy in front of him.
He had personally overseen the boy's records and treatments for the past five years. Everything had pointed to an ordinary, quiet tragedy. Yet now, at the very last moment, everything had flipped upside down.
"How do you feel now?" he asked. It wasn't the most insightful question, but Qin's mind was racing—he just needed to say something.
Sitting across from him, Chen An thought for a moment before answering honestly, "I feel great."
Dr. Qin froze for a second, then buried himself back into the report. He frowned deeply, eyes glued to the paper.
"All right then. You can go for now. If anything comes up, I'll contact you." He waved a hand to dismiss Chen An.
As Chen An stood to leave, Qin pulled out his phone, found his old doctoral advisor's number, and hit dial.
Just as Chen An reached the door, the doctor looked up and added, "Oh right—stick to your routine for now. No strenuous activity. If you feel anything off, come see me immediately."
"Understood. Thank you, Dr. Qin." Chen An nodded politely and closed the door gently behind him.
Inside, Dr. Qin was alone again. He tossed the report onto his desk. The call connected. He greeted his mentor and got straight to the point.
"No, Professor, I'm not seeing things… Come on, I'm not some green intern anymore. Do you think I'd joke about something like this?"
There was a pause before a deep voice responded, "If something really happened, come to my place. But I'm warning you—Xiaoyu is home this week. If you dare call her your 'sister' again, I'll beat you half to death."
Qin's face fell. His first instinct was to refuse. But then he glanced at the report on his desk again, gritted his teeth, and relented.
He sighed. Sometimes, curiosity really wasn't such a good thing.
"I, Qin, just want to do research… I really don't want to get married."
—
After leaving the hospital, Chen An checked the time—it was just past 3 p.m. If he ran back to school, he might make it in time for the last class. But this time, he chose to take a taxi.
Times had changed. Using spells still required running; taxis were far more comfortable.
He felt his pocket. Still had some change. Thanks to his excellent grades, poor health, and background from a welfare institution, the school had been generous with its support. Not only was his tuition completely waived, but he was also allowed to stay in the dormitory year-round, even during holidays.
He received all kinds of poverty relief funds. The welfare home sent him a little money regularly too. It wasn't much, but it was enough for daily expenses.
Chen An had always lived simply. Aside from food, water, and a few necessities, he didn't spend much. The school only asked one thing of him: do well on the college entrance exam.
Still, he figured he should try to earn some money. The welfare home had raised him for years. Now that he had the ability, he wanted to give back.
—
Returning to school, he passed through the main gate and walked by the sports field. Several classes were having PE. A tall, slender figure among the students stood out.
She was bending forward, hands touching the ground—probably warming up before a run. It was summer, and the girl wore only a thin short-sleeved school shirt. Her exposed forearms were pale and smooth.
Her already well-developed figure drew more than a few admiring glances from the boys on the field. Who didn't like a sweet, pretty girl—especially in their hormone-fueled teenage years?
Some admired her openly. Others tried to sneak glances, then quickly looked away.
"Tsk, school flower Lin really is something. Even warming up, she's this attractive."
"Keep your voice down. When did we even have a school flower vote? I never heard about it."
"Nobody actually voted, but come on—if they did, who wouldn't pick Lin Jingqiu?"
"Bullshit. I think Class 3's Cheng Xinxin is even prettier."
"You traitor. Thick-browed and siding with the enemy? You heretic…"
Groups of boys stood whispering along the track. As Chen An passed by, their words naturally reached his ears.
Lin Jingqiu…
He turned slightly to glance. A radiant face, delicate features, slim waist, and full hips.
It was the same girl who had been confessed to in the hallway at noon.
Then, Chen An noticed a man in a button-up shirt walking from the opposite end of the field. He carried a briefcase under his arm, his hair neatly combed, walking briskly with the air of someone important.
Some students noticed him too, but quickly looked away, assuming he was just another school official.
Only Chen An raised an eyebrow—as if seeing a walking pile of gold coins.
The man stared straight ahead, his steps fast and focused.
No one paid him any mind.
He drew closer to the girl warming up.
Just as they were about to pass each other, the man's hand moved.
A flash of cold steel gleamed—
And in the next instant came the sickening sound of a dagger piercing flesh.