After Constantly Courting Death, I Became the White Moonlight - Chapter 3

Ning Ning hadn’t expected Lin Xun to agree to watch the moon with her.

After all, he had only just joined their sect. The two of them barely qualified as acquaintances under the label of “fellow disciples” and had hardly exchanged more than a few words.

In the original novel, the moment the original host so much as touched his hand, Lin Xun had immediately recoiled without hesitation. Unlike now, this little white dragon not only didn’t mind her touch, but he also even agreed to her invitation to admire the moon.

Ning Ning was starting to understand why so many people were eager to compete in the “China’s Most Tragic Lives” contest.

“But, Senior Sister, before we go out to admire the moon, shouldn’t we maybe…”

Lin Xun hesitated for a moment, his long lashes drooping to hide his dark eyes. When he finally spoke again, his voice was soft and sweet, like a dumpling made of glutinous rice:

“Clean up your room a little?”

Since his head was lowered while speaking, Ning Ning took the opportunity to study her junior in detail.

The little white dragon was considered an important character in the original story. Because of his inherently kind nature, he got along quite well with the usual solitary Pei Ji, which naturally gave him a lot of scenes.

Compared to Pei Ji’s domineering, temperamental personality, Lin Xun’s gentle and ethereal “white lotus” character came off as much more serene and otherworldly.

He was a graceful young man, like a jade tree in the wind. The lamplight in the room flowed like water, gently illuminating his fair and delicate face.

He was still young, with traces of innocence in his features. His glass-like black eyes held a quiet warmth, and his long lashes trembled like butterfly wings, casting soft shadows on his cheeks.

His simple white robe outlined a slender yet upright frame. In the silence of the night, he looked like a straight, unsheathed sword.

Yet those deliberately evasive eyes and the tips of his ears slowly turning red made him seem less like a once-in-a-millennium sword cultivator prodigy and more like the shy little brother next door.

Ning Ning looked at him, then glanced back at the pitch-black wall behind her. In an uncertain tone, she asked, “You… you’re really willing to help me clean my room?”

Lin Xun didn’t look up or speak—he simply gave a small nod.

As it turned out, Lin Xun really didn’t act like a pampered royal heir at all.

While Ning Ning was still fighting a losing battle against the shards of a shattered alchemy furnace, Lin Xun had already cleaned up the limbless desk, the chair whose entire backrest had been blown off, and the scattered fragments of books left in the explosion’s aftermath.

He was so efficient—so much that Ning Ning couldn’t help but ask.
“Do you do this kind of stuff often at home?”

“I only learned after coming to the mountain,” Lin Xun replied, a little embarrassed.
“Master told me… it’s a required course for sword cultivators.”

He hadn’t even been here long and looked at what they’d turned this poor kid into.

Ning Ning couldn’t help but ask herself in despair.

“Why is it that we work so hard to earn money, but it’s so easy for others to take it from us?”

“Senior Sister,” Lin Xun—still huffing and puffing while moving a bookshelf—paused at her words, then hesitated briefly before adding, “I have a friend who taught me some ways to be frugal… I-I haven’t done it myself! It’s all his ideas!”

Feeling Ning Ning’s direct stare, the little white dragon began to panic, his breath quickening.

“Like… if your uniform is damaged, you don’t have to buy a new one.
Just find a piece of white cloth, cut it to size, and paint cloud patterns on it with gold paint…”

Ning Ning’s eyes widened in horror as she glanced at his sleeve.

The dark golden embroidery was crooked like it had been drawn by someone with Parkinson’s. Where a majestic dragon should have been stitched, there was… a bizarre mud loach, baring its teeth and with feet far bigger than its head.

“Also,” Lin Xun lowered his head further, “you should never waste rainwater.
Collect it on rainy days, boil it, and use it for bathing—it’s cleaner than pond water.
And after eating watermelon or pumpkin, keep the rinds… you can stir-fry them for your next meal. It adds another dish.”

Ning Ning was shaken.

She really wanted to ask.
“This ‘friend’ you’re talking about—isn’t it just you?”

But that would be too cruel, and for the sake of preserving the young crown prince’s dignity, she swallowed the question.

“When Heaven is about to place a great responsibility upon a person,
it first makes them suffer in mind, strain their bones, and starve their body…”

So this was the #1 Sword Sect under Heaven?

While other sects taught magic and sword techniques, the Xuanxu Sect was truly unique. If they had a textbook, it would probably look like this:

• Required Course 1: On the Self-Cultivation of a Penniless Cultivator
• Required Course 2: Household Chores and Postpartum Care for Geese
• Required Course 3: My Mushroom-Stealing Friend: Tips for Foraging When You’re Broke

Incredible. The whole sect was basically a Beginner’s Guide to Being Dirt Poor.

“Oh, right, Senior Sister.”

Seeing her face go even paler, Lin Xun assumed Ning Ning hadn’t yet recovered from the shock of her bankruptcy. He cautiously took a step forward and pulled out a brilliant, glowing pearl from his robe.

“I didn’t bring much money when I left the East Sea.
This night pearl is the only valuable thing I have. If you don’t mind, please accept it in exchange for some spirit stones.”

But “not much money” was an understatement.

Lin Xun had left home with absolutely nothing—because his master had told him:
“A immortal sword never clings to worldly possessions.”

Later, he’d discover that his master had also once eaten stir-fried melon rinds and had even invented a new dish called “Falling Blossoms with Hundred Fragrances.”

Which was literally just… fried petals and leaves.

This glowing night pearl was the only valuable item he owned. It should’ve been carefully protected.

But…

The naive little white dragon glanced quickly at Ning Ning’s utterly pale face, then made up his mind.

They were fellow disciples and thus should support each other.
If sacrificing this one item could help restore his senior sister’s will to live—then it was worth it.

“But he’s a strong and upright boy!”
“At worst, he can go back to drinking dew and eating tree leaves! But if Senior Sister really loses her mind, her whole life will be ruined!”

Ning Ning had complicated feelings.

In the original novel, Lin Xun was indeed written as a completely naive, extremely soft-hearted little white lotus. When he saw injustice, he would step in to help even if he was blushing and stammering with embarrassment.

One reader had sharply pointed out that the author designed him this way precisely to highlight how decisive, cold, and ruthless the male lead, Pei Ji, was.

Honestly, when Ning Ning had read the novel with an omniscient perspective, she also felt the little prince was too overly sympathetic. But now that she was the one being pitied—

He’s just a little angel, sob! Even when she was this poor, he still gave her his last bit of resources!
Double standards? So, what! Lin Xun is just too good!

“No, no, I don’t need it.”
Ning Ning quickly waved her hands. “Don’t you also not have many spirit stones left?”

She said it vaguely, deliberately skipping over Lin Xun’s stories of eating melon rinds and washing with rainwater, trying to preserve the pure and fragile pride of the little guy.

Unexpectedly, the silly son of the rich family chuckled foolishly, “It’s okay. Last time, Senior Sister took me to the Ten Thousand Swords Sect, and we stole a lot of melons. The rinds are enough for several—”

Before he could finish, Lin Xun suddenly froze.

He had a strong sense of pride and was very embarrassed. Before, he had deliberately hidden his identity and lied that all those things were done by “a friend.” But now this sentence…

Didn’t it just clearly declare that he was that friend?

A wave of heat surged up, and his jade-like face instantly turned crimson, like an ink blot spreading and deepening, until it covered his entire face.

Too, too embarrassing.

He had originally wanted to leave a good impression on Senior Sister.

He had always struggled with social interaction. In the past few times he encountered her, he was too shy to even speak. Today, when he heard strange noises from her room, he rushed in without thinking. Who would’ve thought it would end in such a ridiculous mess?

Lin Xun stammered, completely speechless, his mind blank—until he suddenly heard Ning Ning’s voice again, with the same calm tone as before:
“Melon rinds enough for several days? How many did you and Senior Sister steal? Didn’t the Ten Thousand Swords Sect catch you?”

She must have misunderstood him.

He clearly said, “melon rinds.”

Anxious, Lin Xun realized that Senior Sister looked completely normal, as if she really hadn’t heard clearly, and hadn’t connected him with “that friend.”

He smiled slightly, lips pressed together, the red on his ears fading a bit.
“Quite a lot. Senior Sister, do you want to hear about how we stole the melons?”

Ning Ning: “Go ahead.”

So, the conversation successfully shifted to how Senior Sister and he had raided the melon fields of the Ten Thousand Swords Sect. Supposedly, Senior Sister had said: “Stealing melons doesn’t count as stealing. When sword cultivators do it, it’s not really stealing, is it?”

Lin Xun recounted the tale earnestly, even helping to sweep up the mess on the ground, completely unaware that Ning Ning beside him had just quietly let out a long breath of relief.

Whew, that was close.

Looking at that little white dragon with red eyes and pale cheeks—thank goodness she reacted quickly and played dumb.

Otherwise, he might’ve cried on the spot.

…

The next day, Ning Ning was woken up by the system.

Fortunately, the bed was far from the furnace, so she hadn’t been hurt. After saying goodbye to Lin Xun, she had collapsed from exhaustion and gone straight to sleep.

As soon as she opened her eyes the next day, she saw several large lines floating in her mind.

[Ding! Task issued!]

[The Sword Sect Tournament is underway. Still resentful from yesterday’s loss to Pei Ji, you vow to teach him a lesson.]

[Please immediately proceed to the dueling arena and launch a surprise attack on Pei Ji from the shadows.]

This plot had finally arrived.

Ning Ning sat up groggily in bed, running her fingers through her messy hair.

This was the starting point of Pei Ji’s rise—a very memorable moment in the original novel.

The internal tournament of Xuanxu Sword Sect used an elimination format. Since Pei Ji had defeated Ning Ning yesterday, he would be facing another disciple today.

Whether you called it good or bad luck, the opponent this time turned out to be a personal disciple in the Golden Core stage.

This disciple’s name was Chen Zhao, a cultivator under Master Qingxu, and he was exceptionally skilled. After witnessing Pei Ji’s fight with Ning Ning the day before, he knew not to underestimate him and even used a hidden weapon just to be safe.

Of course, hidden weapons were forbidden in the Sword Sect tournament.

But his soul-piercing needle was as thin as a mosquito’s leg, undetectable by spiritual energy. And since the spectators were far from the stage, no one noticed when he injured Pei Ji with it.

Besides that, the original Ning Ning had also done her best to stir up trouble.

Her main sword technique was called “Starlight Array”, known for being lightning-fast and dense like a field of stars—in short, a quick, ruthless, and precise attack style that caught enemies off-guard.

Yes, the original Ning Ning had truly demonstrated what it meant to “have no bottom line”. During Pei Ji and Chen Zhao’s match, she had used her sword intent to ambush him from behind.

With both the hidden weapon and a sword strike coming at once, Pei Ji had no way to escape. He was destined to be gravely wounded, barely clinging to life—yet it was precisely in that moment of crisis that he began his great turnaround.

Thinking of this, Ning Ning quickly got out of bed, dressed, and washed up. When she picked up her Star Scar Sword, she couldn’t help but sigh.

Villains really are just XP packets for protagonists. That’s confirmed.

Thanks to flying on her sword, she soon arrived at Kaiyang Peak, where the dueling arena was. Pei Ji and Chen Zhao were during a fierce and thrilling battle, blades flashing wildly on stage.

In the early morning, mist and clouds wrapped around Kaiyang Peak. Sunlight pierced through the dense fog like a thousand sword shadows—tangible yet traceless. The mountains were veiled in waves of mist, clouds rolling and drifting like a vast gallery of ink paintings, layered with watery hues.

From an ordinary person’s perspective, they could only catch fleeting glimpses of the two figures on stage. The sharp sword aura glinted coldly in the sunlight as the blades clashed, cutting through the fog like frost and snow slicing the sky, like thunder without sound.

Pei Ji, dressed in black, bore a calm expression. Though he was an unknown outer sect disciple, he didn’t fall behind in the duel. Seeing that Chen Zhao was clearly at a disadvantage, Ning Ning knew it was time to intervene.

She could see their movements clearly and thus knew exactly when to act.

As the white mist rose, Ning Ning formed a hand seal and pressed steadily toward Pei Ji’s back.

Rain Falls on Flying Flowers Technique swift and traceless sword strike.

The invisible sword energy surged down, but before Ning Ning could even flash a smug “That’s as far as a support character can help you” smile, the corner of her mouth froze.

Oops.

She wasn’t very proficient with this technique… and the sword intent—

It went off course.

…

Pei Ji soon sensed the sword energy aimed at him.

Unlike Chen Zhao’s aggressive and murderous heavy sword strikes, this aura was light and agile, almost unnoticeable. He was extremely familiar with this feeling—it was the same as the female disciple he had faced yesterday.

A rough, low male voice suddenly rang out in his mind, making him furrow his brows slightly:
“Crap, someone’s launching a sneak attack!”

This voice had resided within him since birth. No one else could hear it was unique to him.

The voice claimed it had once been a sword, but it couldn’t recall its name or its previous master. Everything was a blur—it had lost its memory.

If Ning Ning had heard this voice, she would’ve immediately understood and said, “Ah, so this is the voice of the Chengying Sword.”

Of course, she knew this voice.

Pei Ji was the reincarnation of an ancient sword god, and his former sword, Chengying, had entered his body along with him. Unfortunately, the passage of time had sealed away both the sword’s power and memory. Now, it was just a nagging middle-aged uncle stuck inside the male lead’s mind.

“This sword aura… It’s that female cultivator from yesterday.”
Chengying muttered suspiciously, “What is she planning? I knew that woman had bad intentions!”

Ning Ning’s sword aura was swift as lightning, charged with deadly intent. Pei Ji, preoccupied with Chen Zhao, could only dodge to the side.

But the moment he shifted, Chen Zhao smirked coldly and flicked his fingers.

A Soul-Seizing Nail, small and almost invisible, silently drew near, radiating a chilling aura. Caught between a wolf and a tiger, and with Chen Zhao having predicted his movement, Pei Ji had nowhere to escape.

He was certain to be struck.

Chengying roared in frustration:
“Damn that wretched woman! Just wait till I teach her a lesson—”

Before he could finish, everything changed in an instant.

The Rain Falls on Flying Flowers Technique hadn’t struck straight as expected—it had veered slightly, heading directly toward where Pei Ji had just dodged. It appeared the girl had never aimed at his original position in the first place.

As the poison nail surged forward, the sword strike curved like a flowing wind and swirling snow.

In that split second—

They collided perfectly.

The clash was silent and invisible, but beneath it surged an undercurrent like crashing waves.

The technique shattered, the nail splintered.

Chengying: …

He was stunned.

How did that woman know the path of the Soul-Seizing Nail?
The force, the timing—it was perfect, as if fated to intercept the hidden weapon precisely.

Could it be… everything had been under her control?

Shocked, he focused his divine sense toward the platform and easily spotted the white-clothed girl.

And the faint smile still lingering on her face.

She was smiling.

Which meant—

She really did it on purpose?!

First, she sensed Chen Zhao’s foul intentions and his plan to use a hidden weapon. Then, she forced Pei Ji to dodge using her sword technique, which triggered Chen Zhao’s prediction and the launch of the poisoned needle.

But Chen Zhao would never have imagined… she had predicted his prediction!

Her tactics, her cunning, her absolute devotion to Pei Ji—

She must be a goddess!

“I’ve seen the light!”

Chengying instantly retracted all the “wretched woman” insults and trembled with excitement.

“That goddess isn’t just secretly helping you…”
“She’s an unparalleled master!”