Ch. 5 - Learning Talismans (II)
The Villain I Tried to Save Wants Me Dead (Again)This chapter is broken. Please report this on discord.
Notes
Editors note: guys… go too sleep ≠ good night TT yang ruo…
This chapter is broken. Please report this on discord.
Editors note: guys… go too sleep ≠ good night TT yang ruo…
The next day, when Yang Ruo arrived at the appointed time, her two talisman teachers were nowhere to be found.
She sent someone to fetch them, only to be told that their rooms were empty.
Puzzled and a little anxious, she thought—No way. After all the effort I put into finding two people who actually knew a bit of magic, with silver flowing out like water, and they run off the very next day?
Were they swindlers?
She went to check their quarters herself. Sure enough, the place was deserted—except for an abundance of spiders and rats.
Disgusted, she hurried out.
Sigh. No wonder the teachers left. How could the Ye household staff be so careless, giving them such a wretched place to live?
She summoned the steward, pointed at the filthy rooms, and ordered him to get them cleaned up.
The steward was completely baffled. It wasn’t just that the Second Young Miss was suddenly taking charge of household matters—he’d always had those quarters cleaned properly. Since these were her guests, how would he dare be negligent? How could there possibly be that many rats and spiders?
But the evidence was right in front of him. He couldn’t argue and could only accept his punishment.
The crow reported Ye Xiwu’s dejection over her teachers’ disappearance to Tan Jin.
Tan Jin said indifferently, “You don’t need to tell me how she feels.”
He had also heard about the steward being punished. Nothing spread faster among servants than gossip about their superiors’ misfortunes, and he had caught a bit of that talk.
This Ye Xiwu… She was still the same as in his previous life, and yet somehow, not quite the same.
He couldn’t put his finger on it.
“Keep watching her. Only inform me when she’s about to die.” He didn’t want to waste any more time on her. What he wanted was to reclaim his former peak as quickly as possible. He intended to return to the Jing Kingdom and be king again.
The crow replied, “Yes.”
Yang Ruo, realizing she’d been cheated, felt upset for a while. She couldn’t believe that in the modern world, full of sophisticated scams, she had never once been duped—yet here, in ancient times, she fell for it so easily. She figured it was probably because she was now relatively wealthy, and money didn’t feel as tight, so she’d let her guard down.
Still, because of this incident, she gave up on hiring monks or Daoists as teachers.
As for talismans, she decided to let the matter go. It wasn’t that she hadn’t tried—it just wasn’t meant to be, and she wouldn’t force it.
But without talismans to protect herself, she absolutely refused to follow Tan Jin on any adventures. Sure, she pitied him, but her own life mattered too!
Tan Jin, you can go subdue demons on your own. I’m too powerless to help you.
She muttered this to herself in her heart.
…
That day, she learned that Prince Sheng had summoned Tan Jin to the palace. At once, another plotline came to mind.
In the original story, Tan Jin was threatened by Wu, the Chief Eunuch, one of the emperor’s attendants. To deal with it, he commanded a swarm of bees to kill—but because of this, Li Susu began to suspect him.
Yang Ruo thought: she already knew exactly what would happen. She wasn’t curious, and she didn’t need to get involved. For her, it made no difference whether she went or not.
But… what if this world didn’t follow the television drama exactly? What if her arrival and everything she’d done so far had already triggered some kind of butterfly effect?
…Could something unexpected happen?
Feeling uneasy, as soon as Tan Jin entered the palace, she submitted a request and followed in as well.
Judging by the timing, Tan Jin and Prince Sheng should still be in talks, so she first went to pay respects to the Empress Dowager.
The Empress Dowager was old and frail, so she did not keep her long. Once she left, Yang Ruo wandered about the palace at leisure.
She thought it over, then went to wait along the path where Tan Jin would have to take when leaving the palace. That eunuch Wu should also be waiting for him somewhere along here.
If Wu met only Tan Jin and then ended up dead, suspicion would inevitably fall on Tan Jin. Especially since he was born with that ominous evil bone—it would only make people more hostile toward him. But what if she were present as well? Surely Wu would not dare to hurl insults or issue threats in front of her. And if Tan Jin wasn’t provoked, he wouldn’t kill him. As long as Wu stayed alive, Tan Jin would not be suspected.
She was right. Before long, she saw Wu approach Tan Jin in the distance. From her concealed spot, no one noticed her.
She hurried forward.
Wu, who had just been about to get to the point with Tan Jin, froze when he saw her. He quickly changed his expression and respectfully bowed to her. Yet before leaving, he still spat a few venomous words at Tan Jin.
Yang Ruo felt a chill in her heart. Old man, stop it already. Do you even realize you’re only a step away from the Yellow Springs?
She glanced at Tan Jin’s face. He showed no expression at all—no joy, no sorrow, no hatred, no anger. It was the look of someone long since numbed, accustomed to being reviled.
But could anyone truly be untouched by such malice?
Wasn’t the so-called evil bone precisely something that fed and grew stronger on that malice?
She turned back and called out to the departing Wu, speaking with earnest gravity:
“Uncle Wu, you’ve served by His Majesty’s side for so many years and watched me grow up. I call you ‘uncle’ out of respect, so I must also ask you to show some respect to Xiwu’s husband. … Farewell.”Having said this, she took Tan Jin’s hand and walked off together with him.
Because her back was turned, she failed to notice the doubtful, probing look in his eyes.
Tan Jin wondered: In the last life, did she appear here? Wasn’t it only at night that she came to question me about the eunuch’s death?
Was this deliberate? Or just coincidental? Was she, like him, reborn—already knowing what would happen today?
The matter of talismans had convinced him she was not reborn. Yet again and again, these coincidences, her apparent foresight, made him suspect she knew more than anyone in this world should.
What secrets was she hiding?
Tan Jin was bewildered.
In this life, she still treated him kindly, though her ways of showing it were different from before.
Sometimes, this made him feel as if even his own rebirth wasn’t so secure after all.
Most things had unfolded exactly as in his previous life—except for one. Ye Xiwu.
She was the unexpected variable.
Suddenly, Tan Jin snapped back to his senses, realizing that his attitude toward her was now one of probing curiosity rather than pure hatred. His expression froze over at once, like the snow and ice that never melted atop a mountain peak.
Coldly, he flung Yang Ruo’s hand aside and strode off on his own.
Yang Ruo watched his back. Fine, you hate Ye Xiwu, I get it. But I just spoke up for you, and you still won’t give me the slightest bit of face?
She didn’t say anything, just followed him quietly.
She felt like she was playing the role of Second Miss Ye in the most pathetic, cowardly way possible.
But what choice did she have? She was just a mortal. Tan Jin, at this point, was already capable of killing with insects. What could she possibly gain by provoking him with harsh words? She wasn’t Li Susu, and she wasn’t the clueless Ye Xiwu either. She valued her life—she didn’t dare act recklessly.
Tan Jin wasn’t someone she could afford to offend. In fact, she had to treat him with good food and good wine, like a god she needed to appease.
Back at the residence, Tan Jin headed to the library again. After some thought, she decided to join him. After all, the teachers she had painstakingly found for talismans and spells had disappeared. She might as well rely on herself and see if the library had any related texts.
The two of them stayed in the library the whole afternoon. Tan Jin knelt the entire time, copying scriptures without ever standing up. She glanced at his legs and secretly marveled. Even a demon’s legs are made of iron? Don’t they ever get sore?
Still, Yang Ruo did manage to find a few Daoist texts on talismans. She didn’t know if they were useful, but at least it was something.
Tan Jin allowed her to remain at his side. Inwardly, he sneered: So, she’s afraid I’ll take it out on that old eunuch after all and has come here to keep watch over me? Hmph. Same as before—fake compassion.
Meanwhile, Yang Ruo frowned as she studied the strange, squiggly talismans in the Daoist text.
She fetched pen and paper and began copying them.
Since the book gave no step-by-step instructions, she simply went by feeling—adding a stroke here, a stroke there—until she had a barely passable result.
She flicked the talisman paper outward, attempting a Wind Summoning Spell. The book claimed that, if done well, it could whip up a tornado strong enough to topple a ten-story building! But she had no real expectations and was only trying it casually.
As expected, nothing happened. After a while, the talisman simply fluttered to the ground, lying there in silence as though mocking her stupidity.
Weird… how could a piece of paper mock me? She had a premonition, turned her head, and sure enough—Tan Jin was watching her with mocking eyes.
Yang Ruo: …Am I seeing things? The little demon god actually has such unnecessary emotions?
She said aloud, “Tan Jin, don’t tell me you actually know talismans?” —What’s so funny? If you’re so great, then show me yourself! A trace of defiance flickered in her eyes.
Tan Jin did not refuse. He really picked up the brush and began drawing a talisman—his strokes confident and composed, far more convincing than hers.
Yang Ruo: “…”
Damn.
It had to be his male lead halo!
Oh, how she longed for Li Susu to come knock him down a peg! She was just an ordinary mortal—how could she ever compete with a demon-born monster? Waaah…
When he finished, she snatched the talisman and, following the book’s instructions, held it between her fingers. After reciting the incantation, she flung it outward. Moments later, the sound of wind battering against the windows resounded with a loud ba-bang.
Yang Ruo: “…”
Tan Jin looked at her.
Yang Ruo, doing her best to remain calm despite her embarrassment, said stiffly, “This must be a coincidence.”
Meanwhile, inside, she was screaming: Tan Jin is really this much of a genius?!
In any case, she absolutely refused to admit that her own incompetence had only served to highlight his brilliance.
“I’m done learning. Done. The wind’s too strong today—conditions aren’t suitable for studying wind techniques. Too much interference…” she muttered shamelessly, flipping the book to the next page.
Tan Jin watched her, the corners of his lips tugging upward almost unconsciously.
Yang Ruo, however, had her head buried in the book, oblivious to his gaze. She had always been studious by nature. Having lived in the modern world, she never fully believed in gods, demons, or sorcery—but the sheer power of Tan Jin’s talisman earlier had rekindled her hope. Clearly, in this world, magic was real. If even Tan Jin could wield it, then surely she could too.
Work hard, study harder! I can cultivate immortality too!
She spent the next stretch drawing dozens of talismans, but only managed to activate one—a minor wood-element spell that produced a single, soft vine.
Yang Ruo picked it up and frowned. “What’s the point of this? For tying things? Won’t it snap right away?”
She gave the vine a tug—only to find it was unbreakable.
“Try this,” Tan Jin said, tossing her a sword.
She picked it up and hacked away at the vine, clang, clang, clang! Her arm grew sore from the repeated blows, but the vine remained completely unscathed.
Whoa—
Could it be that she was just too weak? She eyed her palms suspiciously, then glanced at Tan Jin.
“Can you give it a try?” she asked.
Tan Jin looked at her coolly. “Second Miss Ye, you’re handing me a weapon. Aren’t you afraid I might kill you with it?”
Yang Ruo: What kind of nonsense is that? If you wanted to kill me, you wouldn’t have passed me the sword in the first place.
She didn’t understand his logic at all. But seeing how frail his figure looked, she waved him over. “Come on, try it. See if you can cut the vine. Also—boys shouldn’t just stay cooped up reading all day. You need exercise too, you know…”
She only meant to get him to help, but looking at his thin frame made her blurt it out like a nagging parent. His skin was pale—maybe from malnutrition, maybe from lack of sunlight.
Either way, her words carried the tone of motherly concern.
Yes, she really was treating Tan Jin a little like a pitiful child—her maternal instincts were spilling over.
Tan Jin humored her and struck the vine a few times, his sword form surprisingly precise.
Yang Ruo didn’t think much of it. But if she had thought more deeply, she would’ve realized: how could someone who had grown up half-starved in the royal palace of Shengguo know swordplay at all?
She didn’t know that the Tan Jin before her was not the boy scraping by in the palace, but the man forged by years of battle in both court and jianghu. He was no longer someone who needed saving.
That evening, returning from the library, Yang Ruo ran into Ye Xiao—Ye Xiwu’s father. After paying her respects, she learned a piece of startling news from him: Eunuch Wu was dead.
Yang Ruo was shocked. No way. I even stepped in today to prevent this, and Tan Jin still killed him?
She thought of Eunuch Wu’s final curses. It must have been Tan Jin’s grudge-bearing nature—unable to let go of even the smallest insult.
Yang Ruo: …Well, that’s just great. If the “original” Ye Xiwu had an even bigger grudge against him, doesn’t that mean I’m doomed?
She shrank her neck reflexively. General Ye, assuming she was cold, simply urged her to hurry back and rest.
When she returned to her courtyard, Tan Jin was already in their room. Lately, she had bought another bed, so the two of them could share the room while sleeping separately, coexisting like roommates.
It wasn’t as though her courtyard lacked extra chambers—but if they officially slept apart, the servants might think she was rejecting Tan Jin, and rumors would spread that he was being mistreated. So she’d split the bedroom in two: one side for her, one side for him. After all, outsiders wouldn’t see their arrangement.
They usually didn’t talk much, each minding their own business. But that night, as Yang Ruo glanced at the other side of the screen and saw Tan Jin preparing to sleep, she couldn’t hold back and whispered,
“Eunuch Wu… was it you who killed him?”
Tan Jin’s hands froze mid-fold. After a long pause, he said flatly, “What do you think?”
His voice carried no ripple—no panic, no irritation at being falsely accused.A chill ran through Yang Ruo. She pulled her blanket tighter around herself. Then, suddenly raising her voice, she declared,
“Of course, Eunuch Wu’s death has nothing to do with you! I was with you the whole time today—he was perfectly fine when we spoke. Afterward, we returned together and spent the afternoon in the library. How could you possibly have had the time to kill him? Those rumors outside are pure nonsense. Outrageous!”
…Yeah, right. Of course, you could kill him. You’re more than capable of killing—controlling swarms of bugs like some boss-level villain. You’re terrifyingly overpowered…
But she suspected there were spies listening, so she deliberately said it aloud to clear his name. As for Eunuch Wu—well, he wasn’t exactly a saint. He’d tried to harm Tan Jin first, so she wasn’t about to blame Tan Jin for his death.
Tan Jin paused. To him, her sudden shift in volume was obvious. But to the spies outside, they would only hear the latter half of her speech.
…Convenient. Saved him the trouble.
He pulled the blanket over himself, and just before closing his eyes, he murmured softly,
“Go to sleep.”
Yang Ruo blinked, then answered, “Mm.”
It was only after a long while that she realized—
Wait a second… that was the first time Tan Jin ever told me good night!