After Constantly Courting Death, I Became the White Moonlight - Chapter 2

As a clever and beautiful girl well-versed in male-oriented, female-oriented, and even 某po-style novels, Ning Ning was no fool. She instantly understood what Nie Zhi meant.

Her current actions indeed made it easy to be misunderstood. If she kept trying to explain, she’d only dig herself deeper into the hole.

In the original plot, the original host cursed Pei Ji and then turned around to leave. Now that the atmosphere was so awkward, she didn’t want to linger either. But to firmly cut off the male lead’s unrealistic self-indulgent feelings, she still added one more sentence before leaving:
“I really don’t like you!”

Pei Ji’s expression…

Well, to be honest, he had no expression at all. His long phoenix eyes glanced faintly in her direction, his voice cold as ice shards, with a lingering trace of killing intent.
“I never said you did.”

Ning Ning choked.

Male lead is you a dog or something?! Would it kill you not to clap back?!

Now it looked like she was the one being delusional.

“And you two.”

Pei Ji was like an unyielding slab of iron—she wasn’t dumb enough to go kicking it. She turned her attention to the other two in the room.
“Don’t overthink it!”

Nie Zhi’s face said, “Got it, got it. We understand. Our young lady sure knows how to play.” He nodded like one of those waving lucky cat statues.
“Yes, yes, definitely won’t overthink it.”

Ning Ning was about to explode from frustration.

But she had no way to explain. Gritting her teeth, she locked eyes with Pei Ji and recited the final villainess line that the system had forced her to say—
“We’ll meet again. Just you wait.”

Ning Ning: ……

Even she had to admit that after all of this, she looked exactly like a tsundere rich girl secretly in love with the male lead but too shy to admit it!

“We’ll meet again”—in the context of the original novel—was supposed to be spine-chilling, but coming from her…

Why did it sound like she was eagerly looking forward to seeing her crush again?!

Ning Ning was suffocating from this whole farce and turned to leave without hesitation. No dramatic sleeve-fluttering or poetic lines, just a hasty retreat, leaving behind three disciples with various expressions in the room.

Nie Zhi let out a dry laugh and gave a timid glance at Pei Ji.
“Looks like she’s really fallen for you. Congrats, congrats.”

That little ancestor was gone, but the rabid dog—Pei Ji—was still there. Nie Zhi felt doomed.

Back when they first joined the sect, Pei Ji had just been a poor kid with weak spiritual power and lingering demonic bloodline—no money, no power, no strength. He was the perfect outlet for him and Shen Anqiao to vent their frustrations on.

That brat was tough too. Even though his power was pathetic, he always fought back like mad when beaten, which only invited harsher beatings. No matter how badly he was hurt, he never begged for mercy.

He was like a wolf cub, not yet grown, but with blood-red eyes.

Pei Ji’s swordsmanship…
When had it become this terrifying?

That question echoed hollowly in Nie Zhi’s heart. As the night slowly deepened, he heard a faint, almost inaudible chuckle.

The last rays of the sunset mingled with moonlight. Shadows flowed like water, outlining the sharply defined features of the young man before him.

Pei Ji’s dark eyes shimmered faintly. Though the corners of his lips curved ever so slightly, his gaze was as frigid as northern glaciers, completely devoid of warmth.

His tone was casual, even a little mocking, the teardrop mole beneath his eye like a frozen drop of blood. Nie Zhi instinctively felt a chill down his spine.
“Draw your sword.”

===

Whatever was going on with the male lead now had absolutely nothing to do with Ning Ning.

Let him build his harem if he wanted. Let him dive into secret realms. She couldn’t care less.

Ning Ning only cared about one thing:
She could finally walk again!

Not only walk—she could fly on a sword too!

In her previous life, she’d been tormented by illness, left with just a single breath, too weak to even get out of bed, lying quietly and waiting to die.

Thinking about it now, it had been a very long time since she had walked freely.

Now, she was so so so happy!

Almost running out of the disciple’s quarters, Ning Ning reached a spacious mountaintop area and, relying on memory, formed a sword technique seal with one hand.

With a flash of light from the sword at her waist, the blade flew from its scabbard and hovered in the air before her.

This sword was called “Startrace.”
Its blade was long, slender, and light as a swallow, glimmering faintly under the moonlight with a cold sheen.

Adorning the hilt were several small, exquisite beads from the Moon Palace Realm, brimming with spiritual light. Under the night sky, they sparkled brilliantly—just like a sky full of stars.

The original host had cherished this sword dearly. Or rather, in the eyes of any sword cultivator, their sword was an irreplaceable treasure.

“If I live, the sword lives. It is me, and I am it.”

Whether cleaving mountains or rivers, shattering earth or the heavens, crossing realms far and wide—worldly fame was meaningless.
All they needed was a person and a sword.

Who needs money? A sword is enough.
Who needs fame? A sword is enough.
Who needs a wife? A sword is enough.

In other words—
The sword is the wife.

—And her wife was so beautiful!
Startrace, baby, don’t worry. Mommy will get you the prettiest accessories, so you’ll be the best-dressed in the whole sect!

With a vow in her heart, Ning Ning stepped onto the blade—still a bit unsteady—and rose into the air with a soft sword hum.

The sunset had been completely devoured by the night, leaving only a gentle moon in the sky. Thin clouds drifted like cotton soaked in ink, gliding across the dark dome of the heavens, unable to dim the moon’s glow.

Looking down, Ning Ning went silent with awe.

The Xuanxu Sword Sect she belonged to was built among the Kunwu Mountains, one of the seven great blessed lands rich in spiritual energy. As they said:

“Mystic forms take shape, palaces line the serene scene; Hidden essence gathers, cave abodes open in famed mountains.”

The main peak, Taixuan, towered from the center like a pillar piercing the heavens. Surrounding it were four prominent branches—Lingxiao, Kaiyang, Yuheng, and Tianhe—arranged nearby in a celestial formation. The smaller peaks formed a range of layered cliffs and ridges, shrouded in lush greenery and ethereal mist.

Between the majestic peaks, natural energy ebbed and flowed. The swift wind mingled with drifting smoke, and the mountain mists gathered and dispersed like veils of gossamer. Bathed in the silvery glow of moonlight, the whole scene felt even more silent, otherworldly, and alive.

Upon closer inspection, one could make out buildings scattered across the landscape like stars. The Sword Forging Terrace, Sword Array Grounds, Stargazing Platform, and Academic Halls all glow brightly with lights. Stone stairways and suspended paths connected every structure. From a distance, riding on a sword, it felt like stepping into a paradise outside the mortal realm.

It truly was a beautiful sight.

Which is why Ningning swearing—she absolutely wasn’t trying to make her stomach growl on purpose.

After her completely empty stomach grumbled for the third time, Ningning finally arrived at the dining hall.

The original host of this body had apparently skipped the sect’s scheduled dinner time just to pick up a fight with Pei Ji. Ningning, with little self-control, thought that this was clearly a case of hurting herself more than the enemy—come on, what revenge could be more important than eating?

Unfortunately, the dining hall was just as empty as her stomach. Maybe because she looked so pitiful, the cook—a female cultivator—took out a skinned dead goose from a pantry cupboard.

Then, with a quick twist of both hands, she split the goose right down the middle and handed half to Ningning.

A true “goose dismemberment show.”

But why are your movements so skilled?!

“This month alone, you’re the seventh disciple to come asking for food,” the female cultivator said as she tore the goose and shut the cupboard in one smooth motion. She spoke in a practiced tone, “Life still holds hope. Don’t let being broke now make you give up. If you’re alive, worldly possessions will come eventually.”

Ningning: ???

Wait, what did you just assume about me?
Also—why is she the seventh person to beg for food? Does this sect have a collective habit of missing dinner? And what does this have to do with money? Surely no one here is that broke they can’t eat, right? …Right?

Still full of doubts, Ningning casually asked, “Seventh one?”

The female cultivator sighed deeply. “There used to be more. Don’t you understand what our sect is like, little Daoist friend?” …She really didn’t understand!

The woman never explained clearly in the end, so Ningning carried her half-goose back to her courtyard in a daze.

Surprisingly, the original host’s room was quite clean—no gaudy gold or silver items to blind the eyes.

Naturally, there was no kitchen boiler here, and she couldn’t find any firewood for roasting either. After scanning the room in frustration, her eyes finally landed on a pill furnace in the corner.

Of course!

The pill furnace was powered by spiritual energy and didn’t need firewood. Its shape wasn’t that different from a pressure cooker either—perfect for roasting goose. She really was a little genius.

—Of course, everything mentioned above is extremely dangerous. Calling it a pressure cook or herself a genius is just her nonsense.

If the founding ancestors of the Xuanxu Sect ever found out someone used a sacred pill furnace to roast goose, they might descend from the heavens in sheer fury—perhaps with even more vigor than the Seven Fairies chasing after Dong Yong.

Ningning placed the goose into the furnace and used spiritual energy to ignite the flame. As she waited for the meat to cook, she thought with a dry sense of humor:

She was the seventh disciple to beg for goose, so by order, she was Goose Taster No. 7—wow, that has a nice ring to it.

Goose-Tasting Fairy didn’t sound too bad either.

The only thing she couldn’t figure out was… what exactly did that female cultivator mean?

She never got to figure it out.

Because what arrived before the answer—was a deafening explosion, shockingly close.

A blazing heatwave surged toward her. Thankfully, Ningning’s body still retained some defensive instinct. She quickly formed a hand seal to protect herself. Though the heat forced her back a few steps, she wasn’t badly injured.

Ash and dust swirled in the air. Through the smoke, she could barely make out the state of the room.

The desk had lost two legs and was slumped pitifully on its side. The clean white walls now looked like they’d taken a vacation to Africa—scorched completely black. As for the pill furnace she used to roast the goose—

The pill furnace, shamed beyond endurance, had heroically exploded in protest, sacrificing itself to defend its dignity as a sacred artifact.

It was just a roast goose—did it have to be this dramatic?

Her stomach kept prodding her nerves with hunger. Ignoring everything else, Ningning held her breath and stepped forward.

The furnace was now a pile of charred debris. Smoke and black vapor curled around. Her roast goose lay on the floor, silent and solemn.

Its charred skin looked like a flower blooming in Ethiopia. Ningning was inclined to name it Bao Zheng II.

At last, she understood.

She would never be the Goose-Tasting Fairy. At most, she was just a goose-less fairy.

The smoke hadn’t even fully cleared when she, holding her Ethiopian flower in hand, heard a soft knock at the door.

“Senior Sister?” came a gentle voice.

[Ding! Task issued!]

[Outside stands Lin Xun, the newly accepted personal disciple of Tian Xianzi. As his senior sister, you have always been jealous of the master’s favoritism and are now set on revenge.]

[Please open the door and seduce him according to the original plot!]

Ningning: ???

Look at her now—hair a mess, face covered in soot. Seduce someone? She looked more like a ghost straight out of a horror film!

The system’s chime echoed in her ears. She did remember this, Lin Xun.

The little prince of the East Sea Dragon Palace, a genius of sword cultivation admired by all. Because he grew up isolated in a royal palace, he rarely interacted with outsiders, eventually developing a shy, introverted personality—and he blushed whenever he got near a woman.

After joining Tianxianzi’s sect, he took the position of the youngest disciple that originally belonged to the former Ning Ning. Add to that his razor-sharp sword aura and rapid cultivation progress—it naturally stirred her jealousy.

Lin Xun was born into a noble family. Ning Ning (the original version of her) wouldn’t dare bully him openly, so she chose a more subtle approach—seduction.

Her goal was to gain Lin Xun’s trust, then slowly exploit his value, turning him into a tool for her own use. She never expected that this young lord was innately afraid of women. The closer she got, the more he recoiled.

Tonight was supposed to be their first direct confrontation.

Ning Ning pushed aside her thoughts and answered quietly, “Come in.”

So, when Lin Xun pushed open the door, this was the scene he was met with—

The entire room looked like it had been robbed, torched, and then blasted into rubble, just to be sure. Smoke swirled in the air, and a faint layer of ash clung to the tip of his senior sister’s nose. In her hands was a pitch-black, unidentifiable object that gleamed with an eerie light.

Lin Xun was genuinely startled: “Senior sister, are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Ning Ning gave him a reassuring smile and waved the pitch-black object in her hand. “I’m roasting goose.”

Lin Xun was stunned again, staring at the thing with a very complicated expression.

This thing… if you took it tomb-raiding, even zombies would think it was a black donkey’s hoof.

But that wasn’t even the worst part.

The graceful, elegant youth frowned slightly, eyes landing on the wreckage of a furnace nearby. His voice cracked slightly: “Senior sister… is that your alchemy furnace?”

“Mhm.” Ning Ning didn’t understand why he was reacting so strongly. She raised her hand and touched the tip of her nose. “Do you know where I can buy another one?”

The room fell into an oddly tense silence.

Then Lin Xun’s voice rang out again—like a death knell straight from hell.

“But… senior sister, aren’t you already deep in debt?”

Ning Ning: pupils’ quake.

Seeing her stunned expression, Lin Xun lowered his head to avoid her gaze and continued in a quiet voice, “Master told me you borrowed a lot of money to forge the Star Mark Sword and haven’t finished paying it off. A furnace costs 10,000 spirit stones. Compensation for damaging the room is another 5,000. And your sandalwood incense table is—”

“Wait!”
Ning Ning couldn’t process all this at once. “Weren’t all these furnishings cheap mass-produced sect items?”

Lin Xun clutched his sleeve nervously. “You said you liked sandalwood, and you wanted the best materials for alchemy…”

“Then—then—what about my family? Aren’t my family rich and powerful?”

“Master forbids disciples from squandering their family fortune.”

Ning Ning was stunned, holding back the urge to cough blood. “Shouldn’t the sect be covering the cost of cultivating disciples?”

“Senior sister, please be rational.”

Lin Xun looked panicked. “We’re sword cultivators—we don’t have money!”

A single sentence snapped her out of her delusion.

Ning Ning had an epiphany.

Right.
She’s a sword cultivator.

What do the public think sword cultivators are like?
Cool, aloof, decisive, slicing mountains with one swing.

What are they really like?
Straight-laced, stubborn, violent maniacs.

Most importantly… they’re broke.

Among all cultivation sects, sword cultivators always wield the flashiest swords and most intense sword auras—but their clothes are the cheapest.

Why?
Because they spend all their money on their swords.

Forget just sword accessories, the maintenance alone is enough to drain everyone’s savings.

To a sword cultivator, your head can roll, your blood can spill—but your sword must never suffer.

To save money for their beloved blades, they’d fast for days without food or drink. Learning to sew or perform on the street? Totally normal.

What stuck most in Ning Ning’s mind was a certain senior named He.

Legend says he tried to save money by becoming the top performer in a brothel. When people discovered he was a sword cultivator, he shamelessly claimed to be a disciple of Wan Jian Sect—only to be exposed on the spot.

—Wan Jian Sect is the second-largest sword sect, and a fierce rival to Xuanxu Sword Sect, like Tsinghua vs. Peking University.

Now Ning Ning finally understood what that female cultivator meant in the dining hall.

And she also realized they’d be seeing each other often in the future.

Let’s see who it is that can’t afford food every day?
Oh, it’s me.

This really is a horror story!

As she wallowed in silence, a line of text popped up in her mind, another excerpt summoned by the system to help her complete her mission.

The title read: Ning Ning Seduces Lin Xun at Night

The moon dipped in the west. Outside the door, the light was like clear water, shimmering softly.

Ning Ning smiled sweetly, her slender fingers brushing Lin Xun’s collar. The boy’s back stiffened, his ears flushing red.

Under the swaying moonlight, her cherry blossom lips glistened softly. She whispered, fragrant breath brushing his face: “The moon is so beautiful tonight. I’m in a very good mood. Shall we go admire it together?”

Admire the moon.
She’d rather roast goose every day than admire the moon ever again.

The moon dipped in the west. Outside the door, the light shimmered like clear water.

Ning Ning smiled sweetly and gently ran her fingers along the body of the Star Mark Sword. Her wife’s spine, unlike Lin Xun’s, was always straight and proud.

Her hand trembled slightly as she stroked the blade.

Surrounded by black smoke, she softly whispered, the scent of roasted goose still clinging to her fingertips.
“Wife, I don’t have money to buy you new clothes. Forgive your useless mom.”

Lin Xun stared at the scene before him, a chill creeping down his spine.

He didn’t understand why Senior Sister was asking questions she clearly already knew the answers to, nor could he make sense of why Ning Ning called Xinghen “my wife” while referring to herself as its “mother.”

All he knew was—Senior Sister… seemed not quite right anymore.

In ancient times, there was Fan Jin going mad after passing the imperial exam.
Now, there was Ning Ning losing her mind after blowing up a cauldron.

Even long afterward, Lin Xun would still recall the sheer terror that ruled him that night.

Senior Sister slowly approached him, placing one hand on his shoulder.

Her tone was unhinged, a mix of laughter and sobs, her voice drifting like a ghost woman haunting the wilderness, perfectly matching the eerie glint in her slightly reddened almond eyes.

“The moonlight is quite lovely tonight.
Senior Sister is in a great mood, how about…”

“We go out and admire the moon together? Ha…ha…”

That final “ha ha” was the most soul-chilling part—it vividly illustrated what it meant for a joyful scene to be laced with sorrow. The rising pitch at the end was like a cold arrow loosed from a bow, whizzing straight into the center of his eardrum.

Lin Xun was scared out of his wits.

He thought Senior Brother He is selling his body to raise sword funds was already the peak insanity of sword cultivators—but clearly, Senior Sister Ning Ning had taken it even further.

The little crown prince of the Dragon Palace turned pale and took a step back, trembling all over.

S-someone help! Senior Sister Ning Ning—

She’s been driven mad by poverty!

The spot where she touched him felt like it was burning, making Lin Xun incredibly uncomfortable. Instinctively, he wanted to break free from her hand.

But… but…

Senior Sister looked so pitiful.

She was already acting so unhinged from being broken he rejected her invitation, she’d be even more devastated.

So, the little white dragon endured the discomfort, his voice soft and trembling, barely above a whisper, “D-Don’t be sad, Senior Sister…
I… I’ll go watch the moon with you…”