Spoiled Eldest Miss x Two-faced Madman

CHAPTER 45: “I Only Want My Hero.”

　　The man wore a mask, so his expression was unreadable.

　　“Fei Yi, did you see that just now?” she gently tugged at his sleeve.

　　The man lowered his head slightly, his black eyes hidden in the darkness of the night, with only two faint glimmers of light flickering within them.

　　“See what?”

　　“That couple—Brother He and Miss Lin—I came here with them. You know who they are, right?”

　　An Jiu spoke as she casually observed him.

　　In the novel, Pei Ji was supposed to be the deeply affectionate second male lead. Now that he’d seen his childhood crush fall for another man right before his eyes, he shouldn’t be this calm, should he?

　　But his tone remained utterly indifferent, leaving An Jiu quite disappointed.

　　“I know them,” he said.

　　Sensing a change in her expression, he paused slightly. “What’s wrong?”

　　An Jiu shook her head, quickly tucking away her emotions, her face returning to normal. “Nothing, I was just surprised. Didn’t expect them to come see the lanterns too.”

　　“With such festivities, it’d be a shame not to,” Pei Ji replied blandly.

　　“True enough. Come on, let’s check out the other stalls.”

　　Though the earlier scene had drawn some attention, the streets were lively everywhere, so it didn’t cause much of a stir.

　　He Ziqing and Lin Qingyan soon left that stall and vanished into the crowd.

　　An Jiu quickly put the matter behind her and pulled Pei Ji out of the dark corner, continuing forward.

　　The two of them strolled together, wandering through the bustling streets. An Jiu loved trying new foods and bought all kinds of snacks along the way, yet she couldn’t eat much. She only took a couple bites of each to try the flavor, then handed the leftovers to the man beside her.

　　In Pei Ji’s life, there had only ever been two times he went shopping with a woman—both times were with An Jiu.

　　The first time was in Pinglan City, and the second was here.

　　By now, he was already experienced—he skillfully took the food the girl handed him and numbly chewed it down, bite after bite. By the time they finished walking down the street, An Jiu was still eager for more, but his stomach was already half full.

　　And he couldn’t not eat it. Otherwise, the young lady would think he was turning his nose up at her and throw a little tantrum.

　　Worse still, she insisted that eating her leftovers was a sign of love, yet she never touched anything he’d bitten. Her double standards were simply outrageous.

　　All around them, the air was filled with noisy, bustling voices that made his head throb.

　　Caught in the crowd, Pei Ji couldn’t help but ask himself once again—why had he agreed to come here?

　　He must’ve lost his mind back then.

　　“Fei Yi, this is sooo good!”

　　As he was lost in thought, a crisp, cheerful voice rang out beside him.

　　At the same time, something heavy landed on his arm—a soft body flung itself at him, slender arms wrapping tightly around his. The girl in red was practically hanging off him.

　　At first, she’d only shyly tugged at his sleeve, all bashful and reserved.

　　But as time passed, she seemed to gradually forget what ‘propriety’ even meant—clinging boldly to his arm, and sometimes, in moments of excitement, leaping straight into his arms.

　　Pei Ji, long used to this, instinctively reached out to steady her by the waist to keep her from falling.

　　An Jiu was too bouncy, always bumping into things and getting little scrapes. Then she’d show up with red eyes, asking him to disinfect and bandage her wounds. Taking care of her had already become second nature.

　　A round dumpling suddenly appeared in front of him—snow-white, soft and glutinous, glistening like a translucent gem.

　　The girl held up a bamboo skewer, offering the dumpling to Pei Ji’s lips. Her peach blossom eyes sparkled, filled with pure, unfiltered joy.

　　“Fei Yi, just have a bite!”

　　Her voice rose a pitch from excitement, sounding even more tender and youthful—like a child’s.

　　Pei Ji stared at her in silence for a moment. The girl’s face showed no trace of shyness, only growing impatience and urgency when he didn’t open his mouth after a long pause.

　　Right before she could throw a tantrum, Pei Ji sighed inwardly and parted his lips to eat the plump dumpling.

　　The dumpling was soft and springy, melting easily with a gentle press of the tongue. The flavor was indeed incredibly sweet and fragrant, carrying a fresh scent of sticky rice. It seemed to have a sweet osmanthus syrup center, and with just one bite, the rich fragrance of osmanthus and its deep, sugary sweetness filled his entire mouth.

　　Pei Ji had an extremely sharp sense of taste. With just one bite of something, he could often identify all of its ingredients.

　　It was a skill honed from years of testing herbs and poisons—whenever he developed a new medicine or toxin, he would personally try it to confirm its effects.

　　Because of that, his mouth had long been accustomed to bitterness.

　　He had tasted countless kinds of bitterness in this world—so much that he had become numb to it. No matter how foul the medicine, he could drink it without batting an eye.

　　But this—

　　This was the first time he had ever tasted such a pure sweetness, one that seemed to reach straight into the heart.

　　“Well? Is it good?”

　　The girl blinked up at him with sparkling eyes, her face tilted up in eager anticipation, waiting for his approval.

　　Pei Ji pressed his lips together slightly and gave a soft swallow. Even after it had gone down his throat, the sweetness lingered on the tip of his tongue, refusing to fade, leaving a lingering aftertaste.

　　He was silent for a moment. Then, meeting the girl’s bright and expectant gaze, he said in a low voice, “Sweet.”

　　An Jiu beamed, her lovely peach blossom eyes curving into crescent moons. Her rosy lips curled up, and a faint dimple surfaced on her cheek—a tiny pear vortex, as if steeped in honey.

　　How had he never noticed before that she had dimples when she smiled?

　　“As long as you like it!”

　　The multicolored lanterns on the street cast dappled light over the girl’s figure. In that shimmering glow, her red garments made her look like a celestial maiden wrapped in clouds and sunset hues, as if she were glowing from within.

　　She spun around and returned to the stall, waving her small hand in a generous gesture. “Boss, pack me another bag!”　　

　　The stall owner, a plump, cheerful woman, had been watching them with a beaming smile the whole time. Hearing this, her grin widened. “Sure thing, I’ll pack it right up for you.”

　　While scooping the dumplings into a paper bag, she chatted with An Jiu.

　　“Are you two newlyweds? You look so sweet together.”

　　An Jiu blinked. “Ah... mm, yeah... I guess...”

　　She realized belatedly that feeding someone like that on the street was normal in the modern world, but in this conservative, feudal era, it was a pretty bold gesture.

　　Thinking that, she decided not to explain further and simply accepted it directly.

　　What she didn’t notice was the look the man beside her gave—deep and dark, like the still waters of a bottomless lake.

　　Pei Ji recalled how, not long ago in Pinglan City, they had also been mistaken for a married couple. But her reaction then was nothing like now.

　　Thinking of how recently she had been avoiding and even showing dislike for ‘Pei Ji,’ his gaze lowered silently.

　　Clearly, both men were him. He shouldn’t care.

　　But when faced with such a stark contrast in treatment, Pei Ji still couldn’t help but feel a trace of indescribable bitterness stir in his heart.

　　The sweetness lingering in his throat gradually faded, replaced by the usual bitterness creeping up from the base of his tongue.

　　Something that had once been so familiar—at this moment—made him involuntarily furrow his brows ever so slightly.

　　“Want another one?”

　　Snapping out of his thoughts, he saw the girl had leaned close again. That familiar plump white dumpling was once more offered at his lips, its sweet fragrance so strong he could practically smell the sugar in the air.

　　Pei Ji looked at her silently, then without a word, parted his lips and bit down.

　　The sweetness bloomed across his tongue, sweeping away the bitterness. The tightly knit furrow between his brows quietly loosened.

　　The stunning girl in red tilted her head up, eyes curved with laughter. The tall man in white slightly lowered his head, obediently accepting the food she fed him.

　　Above their heads hung a pink lotus lantern, its warm golden glow enveloping them in a soft cocoon of warmth and tenderness.

　　People passed by all around, and every one of them who saw the scene couldn’t help but smile in delight.

　　Except for one person.

　　In a private room of the teahouse not far away, someone sat by the window, watching the affectionate pair with cold eyes.

　　“Leader, what are you looking at?”

　　The man’s dark red robe was like congealed blood. Behind a jet-black mask, his pitch-dark eyes flickered with a wicked glint.

　　“That couple. You see them?” He raised a hand and pointed outside.

　　The middle-aged man standing before him—dressed in a brocade robe like an ordinary wealthy merchant—wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked in the direction indicated, answering respectfully, “Y-yes, I see them.”

　　“That girl just left with Brother Ming,” Cong Xuan said slowly, “but in the blink of an eye, she’s already hanging on another man. So fickle and flirtatious—clearly not the kind of girl from a respectable family.”

　　The middle-aged man—who was actually the teahouse owner—quickly echoed, “Y-yes, indeed.”

　　Cong Xuan tapped his fingertips against the table, his tone unhurried and composed. “Brother Ming and I hit it off at first sight. Since I’ve called him brother, I absolutely cannot stand idly by in a situation like this—my conscience wouldn’t rest easy. How could I face him the next time we meet?”

　　The teahouse owner nodded repeatedly in agreement. “You’re absolutely right. That woman is promiscuous by nature, not suitable to be anyone’s proper match.”

　　“In that case—” Cong Xuan clapped his hands heavily. His long phoenix eyes curved ever so slightly at the corners, forming a playful arc.

　　If An Jiu were here, she’d notice these eyes were somewhat different from Pei Ji’s—especially when he smiled.

　　When Pei Ji smiled, the corners of his eyes sloped downward, soft and elegant, giving the impression of a spring breeze—gentle and warm.

　　But Cong Xuan’s eye corners lifted upward when he smiled—like a poisonous blossom in full bloom, malicious and cruel, mesmerizing yet laced with deadly venom.

　　“When that night comes, we’ll kill her.” He paused, then added with a smile, “Make sure to do it in front of Brother Ming—let him watch this shameless woman die with his own eyes. That way, his hatred will finally be soothed.”

　　The smiling words floated gently through the air, yet the teahouse owner didn’t even flinch with surprise.

　　After all, the leader had always been this way—taking pleasure in others’ suffering. He had long since gotten used to it. As long as they themselves weren’t the ones being tormented, everything was fine.

　　The owner spared a moment of pity for this so-called ‘Brother Ming,’ whom the sect leader saw as a comrade—then quickly bowed his head without question. “Understood.”

　　—

　　Back on the street, Pei Ji lifted his eyes subtly, glancing toward a certain direction in the night.

　　The teahouses and restaurants along the road were lit brightly. Many people, tired from wandering the festival streets, had entered to rest, sip tea, and enjoy the view.

　　He scanned the open windows, each one filled with guests toasting and chatting. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

　　But that fleeting moment just now— Where had that sudden flash of malice come from?

　　“Hey, look! It’s that girl from the martial arts tournament!”

　　His sleeve was suddenly tugged. Pei Ji calmly withdrew his gaze. “What is it?”

　　An Jiu’s eyes were lit with amazement, her expression brimming with admiration. “She’s incredible! So many people challenged her, and she beat them all!”

　　Only then did Pei Ji turn his attention seriously to the nearby arena.

　　On the stage, the woman in a red bridal robe planted her long blade into the ground, sweat dampening her temples. She must have been fighting all day without stepping off the stage even once—her arm, still gripping the sword, was faintly trembling.

　　At first, her opponents had only been those with clumsy skills hoping to take advantage of her. But as people realized her martial arts were genuinely impressive, the number of challengers steadily increased.

　　Most of them weren’t trying to marry her—they just wanted to test their strength.

　　Yet even those with decent skills and sincere intentions of sparring couldn’t defeat her.

　　The woman gave her all in every match, never holding back. Battle after battle, she stood her ground, fighting tenaciously until now.

　　“She’s near her limit,” Pei Ji said with just one glance.

　　“Huh?” An Jiu froze for a moment, then her expression turned anxious. “So now even someone with just decent skills could beat her?”

　　Clearly, Pei Ji wasn’t the only one who noticed this. An Jiu looked around and saw that many in the crowd around the stage were men with lecherous faces, their expressions filled with eagerness and ill intent.

　　An Jiu had long known that although the concept of three wives and four concubines existed in ancient times, due to the vast gender and wealth disparities, it was generally limited to noble and wealthy families. Ordinary people could usually only afford to marry one wife—and many men couldn’t marry at all.

　　Even if a bride-to-be wasn’t very attractive, as the only daughter of a teahouse owner, she still drew plenty of attention from opportunistic men.

　　Below the stage, a scrawny man with a sickly, shifty appearance reached out his hand, seemingly ready to volunteer. Next to him were a few unruly companions jeering and egging him on.

　　That guy was obviously one of those useless leeches trying to marry into wealth!

　　An Jiu's nerves tightened as she stared anxiously at the man.

　　The next second, a deep, rough male voice rang through the air: “I’ll challenge!”

　　Everyone around the stage turned their heads at once, trying to find the source of the voice. But no one could be seen. Then—whoosh whoosh—the sharp sound of something slicing through the air echoed as a black figure darted across the crowd and leapt onto the stage in a flash.

　　An Jiu focused her gaze and saw a tall, brawny man now standing on the platform. Even next to the bride in red, he towered more than a head above her.

　　He wore black from head to toe, and his shoulder-length black hair hung loose and wild. His face was stern and well-defined, chest broad and solid, arms and legs muscular and thick—he looked like a massive black bear just standing there.

　　On his back was a large, pitch-black blade—unmissable and imposing. Judging by eye, it had to be at least 1.5 meters long, and it didn’t even have a scabbard.

　　The man cupped his fists and bowed. “I am Mu Lei, the head disciple of Poshan Sect. I ask for the lady’s guidance.”　　

　　The crowd fell silent for a moment. Then—boom!—an uproar exploded around the stage.

　　“That’s Mu Lei?!”

　　“The one they call the Black Blade Swordsman, who single-handedly killed the old freak Li Zhu, the Demonic Sect’s fourth protector?”

　　“That’s him, no doubt! Look at that blade of his—dozens if not hundreds of notorious villains have fallen to it!”

　　“Mu Lei is truly a promising young hero. Among the disciples of all the major sects, he easily ranks in the top three!”

　　“Why would the Black Blade Swordsman challenge her? His skills are far superior to Liao Chun's, right?”

　　The crowd below the stage started murmuring among themselves. Liao Chun's face turned pale. She stared at the towering figure in front of her, and after a long silence, she finally spoke, “I can't beat you. Mu Lei, you may challenge someone else. There's no need to make fun of me.”

　　Liao Chun knew that her appearance was far from beautiful, and many of those who challenged her were only looking to make a mockery of her. That's why she was even less willing to admit defeat too easily.

　　Mu Lei had earned his reputation at a young age and, at twenty-six, was already one of the top martial artists in the Jianghu. Liao Chun, on the other hand, was only seventeen and had learned basic, elementary sword techniques. She didn't even need to fight—she knew she would lose.

　　Although she had never met Mu Lei before, Liao Chun held him in high regard as a senior who also wielded a blade. She even took him as her goal and had once vowed to join the Poshan Sect to learn under him. If it weren’t for her father's objections, she might have already become his disciple.

　　At this moment, Liao Chun's eyes showed her deep disappointment.

　　When she finished speaking, the man in front of her spoke again, “The winner and loser will only be clear after we've fought.”

　　Upon hearing this, Liao Chun's face grew even paler. She thought for a moment, then picked up her blade, ultimately deciding to face him head-on. “Senior, please guide me.”

　　No matter what, she would hold on until the end.

　　As expected, the battle between Liao Chun and Mu Lei ended in a decisive victory for Mu Lei. He had never once faced her with the edge of his blade; he only used the back of his sword throughout the entire fight. But Liao Chun, exhausted, was only able to hold out for a few moves before she collapsed.

　　“Senior, I’ve lost.”

　　Mu Lei casually sheathed his black blade behind his back, his voice low and deep. “You said that whoever wins would have you marry them. Does that still count?”

　　Liao Chun blinked in surprise, then nodded. “Of course it counts.”

　　Mu Lei scratched his head, grinning widely. “I’ve been watching you fight all day from the building next door. You have great talent. Would you consider marrying me and learning the sword together in the future?”

　　Liao Chun was completely stunned. It took her a long time to process what had just happened, and by now, the crowd below was in an uproar.

　　From somewhere in the crowd, a clear, delicate voice rang out, “Say yes!”

　　The atmosphere instantly erupted, like oil catching fire.

　　“Say yes! Liao Chun, you always admired Mu Lei, didn’t you? And now he wants to teach you swordsmanship! Your father won't be able to stop you anymore!” shouted a familiar voice from the crowd.

　　Liao Chun's father, who was standing nearby, snorted at the comments, but in the end, he said nothing.

　　Amidst the cheering crowd, the woman in the red wedding dress blushed deeply, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

　　Seeing this, Mu Lei became flustered and hurriedly waved his hands, “Hey, hey, if you don’t want to, just say so. I won’t force you, but please don’t cry!”

　　Liao Chun giggled softly and whispered, “I’m willing.”

　　The crowd erupted in cheers, but among the noise, An Jiu quietly slipped away, fading into the background with a satisfied smile, her contributions unnoticed.

　　“Didn’t the Black Blade Swordsman just save the damsel in distress? So romantic!”

　　Pei Ji glanced down at the young girl next to him, whose face was flushed with excitement. His lips pressed into a tight line, and in a low voice, he asked, “Do you like him?”

　　An Jiu nodded vigorously, her admiration obvious, “Of course! He’s so handsome! Like a hero who descended from the heavens!”

　　Pei Ji’s lips tightened even further.

　　After a long pause, he slowly said, “I’ve saved you twice.”

　　He paused for a beat before adding, “That’s one more time than him.”

　　An Jiu blinked in surprise, then paused to assess his serious expression. It was clear that he wasn’t joking.

　　She froze for a moment, then suddenly burst into a smile. Her hand, which had been hanging by her side, quietly slipped into his sleeve, finding his cool fingers and gently hooking them.

　　Pei Ji slowed his pace, and his long fingers trembled ever so slightly.

　　An Jiu held onto him with just enough strength to be easily released, but she gave his hand a little shake and whispered, “The Black Blade Swordsman is someone else's hero. But I only need my own hero~”

　　The crowd buzzed with noise, the lanterns casting their glow in the night, but Pei Ji didn’t look at her. His gaze remained fixed ahead, unmoving.

　　Yet, in the midst of all the noise and movement, An Jiu could feel his large, thin hand tightening around hers in the sleeve that connected them.

　　At that moment, a soft ding sounded in her mind.

　　【Pei Ji’s affection for you increased by +5, current total: 35.】

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T/N: Even though the Demonic Sect leader's name is Hua Xuan, the author keeps using his fake name, Cong Xuan in this chapter. I’ve just followed the author’s arrangement. 👍 

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