Rejected Beauty Practices the Villain Play
Chapter 112 Assassination

Chapter 112: Chapter 112 Assassination

Ever since Xie Xun and her had exchanged souls, Master Miao Yun had instructed her to stay at Xiangguo Temple for two days whenever she had a chance. She even specifically had a courtyard built around this ancient bodhi tree.

She didn’t believe in ghosts or gods, but the mysterious and bizarre phenomenon of soul exchange had instilled a measure of reverence in her heart.

Xiangguo Temple was where Fengyu felt most at ease, away from the clamor of the world. Sitting by the windowsill, she watched Qiuxiang and Chunlu busying themselves in the courtyard, while she painted several designs for hair ornaments, including a silver Phoenix Tassel Diagram. Still, she thought the golden version looked better and mused about having Linlang Pavilion produce both styles to see which sold better.

"Miss, most of the pilgrims have left. Shall we head to the main hall?" Chunlu asked after washing her hands clean. Fengyu nodded, and Chunlu took the cloak and helped Fengyu put it on.

A few attendants accompanied Fengyu to the main hall for her prayers.

By midday, the stream of pilgrims had tapered off. Fengyu knelt on the prayer mat with sincerity while Qiuxiang and Chunlu donated incense money. The young apprentice monk always looked forward to Fengyu’s visits to Xiangguo Temple. Every time she came, large sums of incense money were donated; after all, even monks harbored desires, and the more incense money they received, the more prosperous the temple became.

After her prayers, Fengyu drew a divination lot—it was yet another ominous one.

She always seemed to have terrible luck with divination. Every time she drew a lot, it foretold misfortune, whether it was regarding her future, marriage, or family; she never once pulled a favorable lot. Fortunately, Fengyu didn’t believe in divine powers; otherwise, she would have succumbed to despair.

"Miss, I suspect the tube is filled entirely with bad lots," Qiuxiang comforted her. How could it be so coincidental? Every single draw was dreadful, as if the lots were specifically conspiring against her. She drew lots dozens of times each year yet never saw even a minorly positive outcome.

"I think so too," Fengyu agreed, finding Qiuxiang’s theory plausible. Even Master Miao Yun said she had a connection to the Buddha, though the Buddha might very well have been her nemesis in a past life.

When asking about fortune, it was always riddled with misfortune and hardship.

When asking about marriage, it foretold unrequited love and broken families.

When asking about familial ties, it predicted estrangement and betrayal.

She had become indifferent to divinations, adopting a "whatever" attitude. Having encountered the worst possible lots, nothing could faze her anymore.

After finishing her prayers, Fengyu lit incense and paid her respects to the smaller shrines around the grand hall before taking Qiuxiang and Chunlu to admire the scenery. The view from the mountain was quite pleasant; the back hills housed a grove of winter dates and pomegranates. Every winter when Fengyu visited Xiangguo Temple, she would come to pick winter dates and pomegranates. An apprentice monk tended to the orchard and never stopped Fengyu, who was a frequent visitor.

Qiuxiang and Chunlu picked baskets of winter dates and pomegranates. The dates were washed in a nearby spring and still came with a thin frost from being freshly plucked, giving them an exceptionally delightful taste. Fengyu especially enjoyed them.

In addition to the fruit, Qiuxiang also collected a basket of vegetables. As they looped around the back hills towards the main hall, they spotted five tall men seeking lodging. The apprentice monk politely declined, suggesting they find accommodations in Capital City instead, as daylight lingered and the city gates remained open—ample time to make it into the city.

Xiangguo Temple did not host unfamiliar pilgrims overnight. The apprentice monk lacked the authority to make exceptions, no matter how the men pleaded with him. His stance remained firm.

The men’s accents caught Fengyu’s attention—they were distinctly from the northwest but muddled, with several odd and awkwardly used phrases that prompted her to take a closer look.

They were dressed plainly, wearing coarse garments and short jackets. Their builds were sturdy, their faces adorned with thick beards, and they carried large backpacks. Judging by their attire, they seemed laborers accustomed to arduous tasks, with wrist guards strapped on their arms.

"Miss Feng, you’ve returned. Please come inside; it’s time to close the temple doors," the apprentice monk hurriedly called out to Fengyu and her attendants. Turning back to the men, he said, "Kind benefactors, head down the mountain and walk eastward. Within an hour, you’ll reach the city gates—please seek lodgings there."

Initially, Fengyu had assumed they were a group of men in their thirties or forties, but as she walked past them, she noticed one of the men had strikingly bright eyes. His thick beard couldn’t obscure his sharp nose or the youthful features of his upper face. Those eyes were the piercing, bird-of-prey kind that belonged to a young man.

The young man stared at her, seemingly taken aback by her beauty. Fengyu, knowing full well her own allure, was unfazed by his blatant and fervent gaze, continuing ahead with Qiuxiang and Chunlu as the temple doors swung shut.

The apprentice monk closed the main doors, blocking the young man’s lingering gaze. Chunlu, disturbed and feeling watched, glanced back but saw the doors slowly shutting behind them.

"Miss, what kind of people would come to Xiangguo Temple seeking lodging?" Qiuxiang asked curiously. The temple was only an hour’s walk from the city gates, and there was still time to enter the city before sunset. Why bother seeking accommodations at a temple? And even if someone did, Xiangguo Temple wasn’t an inn—it refused anyone other than pilgrims.

Fengyu became watchful, her instincts alerting her. The men’s northwest dialect, their weathered appearances—they looked like people fleeing from misfortune. "They’re avoiding Capital City. First, it’s nearing sunset, and entering the city means facing strict inspections. They don’t have passage orders. Second, they probably lack the money for lodgings."

The cold of late winter made outdoor stays unbearable, so their request to stay was entirely understandable.

Back in her courtyard, Fengyu instructed Zhang Da, "Be vigilant on the night watch."

"Understood!" Zhang Da replied. Other than their group, no pilgrims were staying overnight. The guest rooms were distant from the apprentices’ quarters, and Zhang Da always remained cautious during their stays at Xiangguo Temple.

As Fengyu returned to the courtyard, the setting sun painted it in golden hues. The temple’s kitchen had already delivered dinner, a humble vegetarian meal that tasted surprisingly delightful. In Capital City, vegetarian restaurants that rivaled the temple’s food were rare. Fengyu often contemplated poaching Xiangguo Temple’s chefs to work at Wangjiang Building. Unfortunately, the senior monks remained unwavering in their devotion to Buddhism, impervious to financial temptations—a true shame.

Xiangguo Temple truly served the best vegetarian dishes Fengyu had ever tasted.

After dinner, the sky gradually darkened. Lanterns were lit under the corridors, and Fengyu perused books by the oil lamp. She was reading popular folk novels to pass the time.

Concerned about her eyesight, Chunlu lit three lamps.

"Miss, it’s late. You should rest," Chunlu advised. "Prolonged reading will harm your eyes."

"I’m not sleepy yet," Fengyu replied, flipping another page. After a brief pause, she mused aloud, "What should I do then?"

"Miss, how about practicing your flute?" Qiuxiang suggested.

Chunlu, "..."

The Forbidden Army had tracked Fengyu’s movements. Lin Cheng knew she planned to stay at Xiangguo Temple for two nights. Leading a group of over ten disguised soldiers, he ascended the mountain and positioned them around the temple. Lin Cheng was methodical, refusing to act within the temple grounds. Xiangguo Temple was a sacred site, inhabited by martial monks. Any action taken there would draw unwanted attention. Assassinating Fengyu required precision and stealth, ensuring no traces were left behind nor any link to the Eastern Palace.

Months ago, his father had sent people to kill Fengyu. If Lin Xiao hadn’t intervened, Fengyu would already be dead. Tonight, Lin Cheng himself led the mission to eliminate her, determined not to fail.

Fengyu’s only capable protector was Zhang Da. The rest were mere attendants—hardly a concern.

Who could have predicted the unexpected presence of a group of rough-looking vagrants camping outside Xiangguo Temple? Five burly men in coarse short jackets had settled near a low house close to the main gates. The cold mountain wind and the dark night obscured their identities. By the time the two sides encountered each other, it was too late. The path past Xiangguo Temple’s gate was unavoidable, and no one foresaw strangers camping outside the temple grounds.