The Villain I Tried to Save Wants Me Dead (Again)

The small kitchen had been built and set up within a few days, but Yang Ruo was a little worried that Tan Jin might not know how to cook.

Or maybe… he just didn’t like cooking, like her?

If that were the case, wouldn’t she be forcing him to do something he hated?

Would he think she was meddling too much?

After racking her brain, she decided the small kitchen would just be another option for him. If he didn’t want to cook, he could still go to the main kitchen to get his meals.

Either way, she’d go talk to the kitchen staff and try to fix their attitudes.

She handed all these arrangements over to Chun Tao to inform Tan Jin. Then she inquired about his monthly stipend and found out that even that was often being embezzled.

...This guy really drew the hell-level difficulty setting for life. If he manages to rise from the ashes, it’s got to be thanks to his "Demonic Prodigy" status.

She could quietly pull some extra money from Ye Xiwu’s allowances and give it to him, but he’d probably see that as charity.

Ugh. Better to go speak with the steward and sort out his monthly stipend properly.

Yang Ruo was seriously starting to feel like she, a classic introvert, was being forced to become an extrovert, all just to make Tan Jin’s life in the Ye household slightly less hellish.

That day, she basically met with half the household staff—all the ones who had anything to do with their courtyard. One by one, they came to her looking for praise, bragging about how they used to bully Tan Jin. Her head hurt just listening to them.

The Ye family was about to face total ruin, and these people were still playing politics and picking on the weak.

Did they really think their lives would get better by bullying Tan Jin?

Then it hit her: Were they bragging because bullying Tan Jin used to get them rewards from Ye Xiwu?

And now, if they didn’t get rewarded anymore, what would they do to him?

Yang Ruo thought it over. She had to keep rewarding them. Otherwise, these people who used to benefit from mistreating Tan Jin and now no longer do well—nothing’s more dangerous than someone who’s tasted power and lost it. They might take it out on him even worse.

In fact, the whole Ye household had probably gotten so used to bullying Tan Jin, it had become second nature. Even if she stopped rewarding them, they’d likely keep doing it anyway.

Life deals people enough crap already. Most folks don’t take it out on fate—they take it out on whoever they think can’t fight back. And for the Ye household, that person was Tan Jin.

So she had to keep handing out rewards. Only now, the new rule was: be good to Tan Jin.

“Second Miss, what do you mean by… be good to the young master?” a servant asked.

“The opposite of what you used to do. Before, you bullied him. Now, don’t. And if you can actually help him out or make him a little happier, you can come collect a reward from me. Just—don’t tell him it was my idea. Actually, do whatever you want. But if you do something nice, you get rewarded. That’s all.”

If money can make the devil dance, then surely it can change one poor guy’s fate.

If she could just change how the people around him treated him—maybe that’d be enough?

Would he still be forced to become a demon god?

She seriously doubted a single “evil bone” in his body could dictate everything. This time, she wanted to see which was stronger—the curse of his fate or the power of her wallet!

Of course, she still wasn’t sure whether this world’s Ye family would fall or not. The drama and the novel had different endings. She wasn’t going to gamble—better safe than sorry. She’d need to start stashing gold and silver somewhere discreet and invest in some hidden assets while she was at it.

The story seemed to be following the drama version so far, but hey, better to be overprepared than dead.

Thanks to knowing the plot, she had this eerie sense of control, like nothing really scared her anymore.

She was lining up countermeasures for every future disaster she could think of. Only one big question remained—

Should she, like Li Susu, follow Tan Jin across the land, adventuring with him?

If she wanted to do that, she’d at least need some martial arts skills.

But now? It was way too late to start learning to fight—there wasn’t enough time.

Could she maybe crash-learn some talisman magic or something?

Yeah, sure, there were a lot of scam artists out there, but if she threw enough money around and hired a bunch of “masters,” she had to find at least one real deal in the bunch, right?

She gave Chun Tao the order on the spot.

Very soon, the Ye household staff noticed: Second Miss had suddenly become obsessed with talismans and Taoist arts.

She started hiring waves of Taoist priests and monks to come teach her all kinds of mystical nonsense.

Yang Ruo had been running herself ragged these days—not only fixing the way people treated Tan Jin, but also trying to get a crash course in Taoist techniques from every guru she could find. Most of them were complete phonies.

Except… there was one monk and one old Taoist priest who were different.

One could ride the clouds. The other could burrow underground. She saw it with her own eyes—it couldn’t be fake.

She asked if they knew talisman magic. They said yes.

So she kept them both around and told them to start giving her lessons the very next day.

Meanwhile, Tan Jin was still going to the library pavilion every day. She knew exactly what he was doing, but she didn’t try to stop him.

There was no way Tan Jin would stay a lowly hostage forever. If he didn’t grow stronger, he’d never break free from his cursed fate. She could help him for now, but not forever. And once the Ye family collapsed, she wouldn’t be able to help him at all.

Let him gather his strength.

It wasn’t power that turned him into a demon god—it was the evil he encountered along the way. She didn’t need to stop him from becoming strong. She just had to eliminate as much of that evil around him as she could.

“Second Miss! Second Miss!”

A breathless young servant rushed in, his face lit with excitement. He dropped to his knees and reported, “Second Miss! Just now, I saw the young master’s new clothes get slashed by the eldest young master! He tried to pick a fight with the young master again, but I used the master’s name to lure him away. Second Miss, what do you think…”

Yang Ruo, perfectly in sync with the system she’d built, casually grabbed a handful of gold melon seeds from a tray she had ready and tossed them to the servant. He beamed with joy and withdrew, reward in hand.

Yang Ruo thought—yeah, this was the way to do it.

She wasn’t like Li Susu, blessed with a protagonist’s aura, always managing to appear right when the male lead was getting bullied so she could swoop in and play hero. She didn’t have time to tail him around all day.

So she just bribed the entire Ye household.

With enough eyes and ears on her payroll, protecting Tan Jin was child's play.

She’d already stashed a hefty pile of silver in a safe location outside. As for these gold melon seeds—she’d use them during her final days in the Ye estate to reward anyone who showed even a shred of kindness to Tan Jin.

Reward the good, punish the wicked—changing a toxic environment could really be that simple.

…

“You’re saying she brought in a spider spirit and a rat spirit and now has them teaching her talismans?”

“Yep, boss. And lately she’s been handing out gold melon seeds to any servant who treats you well. I saw it myself—they do something nice for you, then go straight to her and collect a whole pouch of them!”

Tan Jin: “…”

After a long pause, he said, “Don’t tell me this kind of unnecessary crap.”

The crow blinked. “Oh. But Boss, I mentioned a bunch of stuff—uh, which part exactly did you mean?”

Tan Jin shot him a glare sharp enough to cut steel. The crow shut up immediately.

It slunk off, muttering.

Didn’t get far before it caught sight of the monk and the Taoist scaling the wall—of all places, they were sneaking into Ye Xiwu’s courtyard.

It was mid-afternoon. Most of the masters and servants were napping, so nobody saw them.

The monk whispered to the Taoist, “I’m taking the first bite later. She spotted me first.”

“Why should you? I’m more powerful than you. If anyone gets first dibs, it’s me!” the Taoist grumbled.

“Because I got there first, you idiot!”

“No, it’s based on who’s more skilled!”

“You’ve only got twenty more years of cultivation than me! Big deal!”

The crow: Seriously? You guys are already fighting over who gets to eat her first? On the very first day, she hired you?

In the demon realm, those with any taste didn’t just eat humans at random. They were selective. Their favorites? Boys and girls raised in wealthy, prestigious families—pampered, delicate, with tender skin and soft flesh. The kind that had been steeped in a noble aura, making them taste better and boosting cultivation.

The crow: Wait—what exactly did Boss say not to report again? Hm… He didn’t say anything about Second Miss getting eaten, right? That probably counts as worth reporting.

And so, Tan Jin’s window was knocked on again.

He opened it. The crow flapped into view and squawked, “Boss! Those two demons are climbing over Second Miss’s courtyard wall—they’re saying they’re gonna eat her!”

Tan Jin: “…”

What the hell did that have to do with him?

He slammed the window shut and locked it.

The library pavilion was usually deserted, a quiet place. He had been peacefully copying scriptures, but now he couldn’t concentrate at all.

His thoughts were a tangled mess.

He was restless.

He told himself, ‘She did what she did in her past life all under the guise of helping me, but in the end, she only wanted to kill me. A woman like that—why the hell should I care what happens to her?’

He laid down, hoping that sleep might offer some escape from the emotional turbulence.

But the moment he closed his eyes, he saw Ye Xiwu covered in blood, torn up from head to toe. The image hit him like a punch to the gut. He couldn’t stop himself from opening his eyes again.

The horrific image vanished instantly.

But… why had he found that image horrific?

He had killed countless people. Why should the death of Ye Xiwu disturb him?

With a frustrated grunt, he swept everything off the desk, the ink stone hitting the floor with a loud bang.

The noise only made his mood worse.

He felt like something was burning inside him—a fire that started in his gut and was now climbing up his throat. If he didn’t go soon, he felt like he’d burn alive from the inside out.

...

Meanwhile, Yang Ruo was napping.

She’d just gotten into the sweet spot of sleep when two blood-curdling screams from the courtyard jolted her awake. The shrieking was inhuman—like actual demons howling in rage.

Yang Ruo: I’ve seen horror movies, and none of them had SFX this terrifying. This era is full of hidden monsters, huh.

Curious, she pushed the window open—and what she saw made her blink.

Tan Jin.

In broad daylight.

Huh? Isn’t he supposed to be locked in the library at this hour? Why’s he back so early?

“Hey~ you’re back kinda early today, huh?” she called out cheerfully. Though her nap had been interrupted, Yang Ruo wasn’t the type to get cranky.

But Tan Jin didn’t respond. He just stared at her—intensely.

Like a predator eyeing its prey, like he was one second away from lunging, tearing into her, and devouring her whole.

Yang Ruo wasn’t sure if she was just imagining things— why would Tan Jin be looking at her like that?

She hadn’t offended him, had she? All she did was greet him, and he was staring like she’d just murdered his family.

…Oh. Right. This body she was in— was Ye Xiwu’s. It made sense that he’d hate her.

Her sleep-dazed mind finally caught up. Remembering her role, she straightened up slowly, adjusting her posture to exude the noble air of a high-born lady. She pretended that the warm greeting never happened.

Tan Jin watched the subtle shift in her demeanor and felt more convinced than ever: She’s changed again.

Just like in the last life, after returning from that temple, her entire personality had flipped. From unspeakable cruelty to unbearable kindness. But both were for the same damn reason—To kill him.

Recently, he’d been studying the reason behind his own rebirth. He had uncovered a forbidden ritual that seemed relevant, but the details were too vague to be useful.

The scroll was broken—many parts were illegible. He was left to piece together scraps, digging for clues, unraveling secrets line by line.

Maybe… something had happened to Ye Xiwu, too.

He lowered his gaze. At his feet lay a palm-sized multicolored spider and a fat gray rat the size of a rabbit.

From where Ye Xiwu had leaned out the window earlier, she couldn’t have seen them.

She was this close to becoming a midnight snack for those beasts—and yet, somehow, at the last moment, a fire had exploded in his chest and driven him to act. He’d rushed over and destroyed both of them.

Now that it was done, he was furious. Furious that he still couldn’t bring himself to watch her die.

She tried to kill you. Why the hell do you still care?!

That’s why he’d looked at her like that—his gaze heavy with darkness and conflict.

Maybe… maybe what he really wanted was for her to die by his hand.

Not someone else’s.

And when that thought clicked into place, his tense body slowly relaxed.

He wiped the blood off his hands and called for the crow.

“Clean it up,” he ordered.

The crow swooped down and began devouring the remains, bones and all. Only the bloodstained Taoist and monk robes were left behind—filthy and torn.

That’s when it hit him: Ye Xiwu had brought those two to the house to learn talismanic arts.

He frowned.

Talisman magic? But didn’t she already know that in her past life? If she were reborn… why would she need to relearn it?

So… she wasn’t reborn.