Today, The Villain Couple is Settling Scores Again

After a moment of calm, Shen Jizhi landed with Jian Huan in his arms.

A senior from the Imperial Pacification Office approached, recognized Jian Huan, and sighed.

The senior gestured toward the seven unconscious men and said, "As per protocol, your junior sister needs to come with us to the Imperial Pacification Office to give a statement."

Shen Jizhi glanced indifferently at the seven men and then at Jian Huan, who was still gulping down wine in his arms. He replied, "How about we come by tomorrow after she sobers up?"

The senior from the Imperial Pacification Office thought for a moment.

Both of them were disciples of the Jade Purity Sect, and their integrity was beyond doubt.

He nodded, about to agree, when he noticed the girl in the young man's arms put down her wine jug and poked Shen Jizhi's cheek with a finger.

The senior felt inexplicably embarrassed, even though it wasn't his cheek being poked. It felt oddly awkward.

But the young man remained unfazed, his expression as cool as ever, though his voice softened. "What is it?"

"I didn't hit anyone without reason," Jian Huan pointed at the short, chubby man among the seven and snorted. "He called me a b*tch."

Shen Jizhi paused, his gaze deepening as he looked at the chubby man with chopsticks stuffed in his mouth. He narrowed his eyes and gave a faint smirk. "What about the others?"

"That one tried to grab my hand," Jian Huan pointed at each of them in turn. "The other five wanted to smash me into pulp."

Shen Jizhi turned to the senior.

The senior scratched his head and said, "We'll take the seven of them into custody first, but we still need your junior sister to come by tomorrow to clarify the situation..."

Right now, the girl was still drunk, so her words couldn't be taken as reliable.

Shen Jizhi nodded lightly in acknowledgment. "Then I'll take her back to the sect first."

Before leaving, unnoticed by anyone, seven thin, cat-like threads floated from Shen Jizhi's free hand toward the unconscious men on the ground, silently merging into their flesh.

During Jian Huan's seclusion, Shen Jizhi had often picked up random items while out earning money to pay off debts.

Just like the wolf hair he had used to make her talisman brush, these cat-like threads were also from a toxic plant.

These threads only worked on low-level cultivators below the Golden Core stage. They would merge into their flesh and take root in their dantian over a month, eventually covering their entire body, causing unbearable pain and itching, making life a living hell.

The only cure was to remove the dantian.

The spiritual wine, famously known to knock out Golden Core cultivators in three cups, truly lived up to its reputation.

Like a nightmare, Jian Huan stared blankly at the hazy bed canopy in the dim light of night, struggling to move her heavy limbs while trying to piece together her memories.

She remembered going to Xiao'an Tavern, ordering wine, and thinking about things she had never pondered before.

So many things—events she and Shen Jizhi had experienced over the years.

The decrepit little cabin he had to stoop to enter, the evil formation in Yujiang City that extracted spiritual roots, the ancient predecessors of the Lotus Square Realm, that stormy night before the final battle, the Ghost Fish King of Ningzhang City...

In the end, Jian Huan had to admit that what angered and disappointed her the most wasn't his failure to repay the 100,000 spirit stones on time, but his deception.

She was truly done for.

After that, her memories became a blur.

Her limbs gradually regained sensation. Rubbing her throbbing temples, she propped herself up with one hand and sat up on the bed.

The familiar bedding, the stack of cultivation books against the wall—it was clear.

She was home, in her own bed.

Did she come back by herself? Or...?

Just as Jian Huan was pondering this, a slightly hoarse voice broke the silence in the room. "Jian Huan, are you awake?"

Instinctively, Jian Huan turned toward the source of the voice.

The bed curtains were drawn, and a gentle breeze flowed through the room, causing the soft gauze to sway like moonlight rippling on a lake.

Through the haze, she could make out a figure standing by the window, as still as a tree.

Shen Jizhi took a few steps toward the bed but stopped, asking softly, "Do you want to see me now?"

If not, he would leave and let her rest.

Jian Huan, who had been about to ask what happened at the tavern: "..."Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Even though she had said she didn't want to see him, his question left her with no other choice.

Could she really say she wanted to?

Jian Huan was already furious with him, and his question only added fuel to the fire, making her chest burn with anger.

She gritted her teeth, refusing to speak, her gaze darting around the bed. Suddenly, she clutched her stomach and let out a muffled groan of discomfort.

Shen Jizhi immediately looked up. "What's wrong?"

Though ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‍he hadn't noticed any injuries earlier, he hadn't been present during her fight with the Hammer Seven and wasn't sure if she had been hurt.

Jian Huan didn't answer, only clutching her stomach and gasping as if enduring great pain.

Without hesitation, Shen Jizhi moved, pulling aside the bed curtains.

He sat on the edge of the bed, watching Jian Huan curl up with her knees to her chest, her face buried, moaning in pain. He decisively reached out to pick her up. "I'll take you to Medicine King Peak—"

Jian Huan's eyes gleamed in the shadows. As he leaned in, she formed a fist with her left hand, gathering spiritual energy, and swung it hard toward his abdomen!

When the punch came, Shen Jizhi's gaze flickered, and he quickly relaxed, as if he had anticipated it.

He offered no resistance, accepting it willingly, his body as loose as if he were soaking in a bath.

The young man flew out of the bed curtains and landed with a thud on the floor, sliding a few steps.

Jian Huan's punch hadn't been at full strength, but it wasn't light either.

Shen Jizhi lay on the ground, coughing and unable to get up for a moment.

Jian Huan got out of bed, stretching her shoulders and flexing her hands to loosen her muscles. She glanced at him with a sarcastic smirk. "What, not planning to fight back?"

Shen Jizhi propped himself up on the ground, clutching his stomach as he stood, his face pale.

He looked at her and shook his head. "It's fine. It doesn't hurt."

Jian Huan: "..."

Jian Huan kicked him!

Another thud, followed by a muffled groan from Shen Jizhi, who still insisted, "It's okay. It doesn't hurt."

"Doesn't hurt?" Jian Huan, seeing his stubborn refusal to admit pain, laughed in exasperation. Before he could get up, she grabbed his leg, channeled her spiritual energy, and began slamming him into the ground like a mallet in a game of whack-a-mole.

After who knows how many slams, her arms grew sore, but she could still hear Shen Jizhi stubbornly muttering, "It doesn't hurt." Frustrated, she simply lifted him with both hands and hurled him out the window!

With a crash, the Golden Core-level spiritual energy and the Golden Core swordsman's body reduced the entire wooden window to dust.

Outside, the sky was beginning to lighten, a misty blue spreading across the horizon. The eastern sky was brighter than the rest, with the first rays of dawn hidden just behind, ready to burst forth.

Shen Jizhi lay on the ground by the tree, blood continuously seeping from the corner of his mouth.

His thick lashes cast shadows under his eyes as he lay there, like a wolf willingly submitting to having its eyes gouged out and ears cut off as penance.

Jian Huan stared at the shattered window and Shen Jizhi, who was coughing up blood on the ground. Her gaze faltered, and her anger suddenly dissipated.

She always said Shen Jizhi was a fool.

Couldn't he just say something nice and beg for mercy? Why did he have to be so stubborn?

Jian Huan took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and then opened them again.

She glanced at the man outside, who was struggling to get up, pouted, and pulled out a bottle of pills from her storage pouch, tossing it to him.

Shen Jizhi was startled. He looked at her and weakly refused, "No need... it doesn't hurt that much."

As soon as he finished speaking, his injuries made contact with the ground, and he winced in pain.

Jian Huan scoffed, walked over, and sat down on a chair, crossing her legs. "Just take them. You have until dawn to explain yourself." She pointed to the horizon. "If you don't explain by then, don't bother explaining at all."

After a moment of silence, Shen Jizhi said, "Alright," but instead of taking the pills she offered, he took out his own and swallowed one.

Though the pills helped heal his injuries, he was still weak, his steps unsteady as he walked.

Jian Huan saw this and sneered, "Heh."

Shen Jizhi: "..."

The bedroom was in disarray, with a gaping hole in the window and wood fragments scattered across the floor.

The wind blew in through the broken window, causing the pale yellow bed curtains to flutter incessantly.

Shen Jizhi stepped back into the room through the window, his gaze sweeping the room before settling on Jian Huan. He pursed his lips.

Jian Huan met his gaze, puzzled. "You're supposed to be explaining. Why are you looking at me?"

After a pause.

Shen Jizhi calmly said, "Can you... move to a different spot?"

"Huh?" Jian Huan retorted. "Why should I?"

Shen Jizhi coughed lightly. "It's related to my explanation."

Jian Huan glanced at him, then swept her eyes over the surroundings, unsure what trick he was up to. Hearing his words, she stood up and moved her chair to another spot. Before she could even set it down, Shen Jizhi spoke again, “This spot won’t do either.”

Jian Huan felt a twitch at her temple but forced herself to stay calm as she asked, “...Then where can I sit?”

He pointed toward the wall. “There.”

Jian Huan: “...”

She clenched her fists, glanced at the bruises on his face, and the absurd little tuft of hair sticking up on his head. Letting out a sigh, she dragged her chair resignedly to the wall and sat down.

Shen Jizhi turned and walked unevenly around the room. With one hand, he summoned a swirl of five-colored spiritual energy that gathered the remaining wood chips and splinters, sending them out the window for temporary storage. With his other hand, he held a sword, tapping it rhythmically against the walls and floor.

With the final tap, the ground beneath Jian Huan’s feet began to tremble slightly.

Creaking sounds filled the air as wooden drawers, like magic, extended from the floor and walls. Inside the drawers were boxes.

Shen Jizhi waved his hand lightly, and the boxes slowly opened. In the next moment, the room was bathed in a dazzling glow of spiritual light.

The spiritual energy in the small room was denser than even that of Medicine King Peak, so rich it seemed to overflow.

Colorful spiritual fruits, pills, herbs, and flowers burst forth like a spring garden in full bloom, dazzling Jian Huan’s eyes like fireworks.

She didn’t recognize most of them, but she knew the Earth Fruit and the Goldwood Fruit she had eaten just a few days ago.

So, he hadn’t sold that Earth Fruit after all—it had been stored here all along.

Jian Huan sat dumbfounded by the wall, unconsciously lowering her crossed legs, as if her soul had left her body.

Shen Jizhi walked to the only drawer without spiritual fruits and took out a ledger, a brush, red ink paste, and a storage pouch.

He stepped over to Jian Huan, crouched down, and placed the storage pouch in her palm. “Inside are 102,500 spirit stones. On the day I wrote that note, I placed this pouch here.”

Jian Huan looked at him, blinking slowly, still dazed.

Shen Jizhi flipped to the last page of the ledger and said, “If everything’s in order, Jian Huan, you’ll need to sign here.”

His fingertip tapped the last line, where the ink was still fresh—he had written it that very afternoon: “Shen Jizhi owes Jian Huan 102,500 spirit stones, which Shen Jizhi has repaid in full on the 15th day of the eighth month.”

Jian Huan stared at the words, listening to his calm explanation, and for some reason, her eyes began to sting.

She didn’t dare look up at him, afraid she might cry and embarrass herself. Instead, she widened her eyes, fixating on the words, and murmured, “Shen Jizhi...”

Shen Jizhi hummed in response, his gaze lowered. “Is there a problem?”

Jian Huan couldn’t speak, only shaking her head.

Shen Jizhi handed her the red ink paste.

Jian Huan sniffled, puffed out her cheeks, and pressed her thumb heavily into the paste before stamping a clear thumbprint onto the ledger.

Seeing this, Shen Jizhi’s lips curved into a faint smile as he carefully put the ledger away.

Outside, the dawn light broke through, painting the clouds at the horizon in golden hues.

The light poured in through the open wooden window, stretching into long beams where tiny specks of dust danced gently, intertwining with the radiant glow of the spiritual fruits filling the room.

“Jian Huan, I’m sorry,” Shen Jizhi said, his voice soft and trembling. “I lied because I... was afraid.”

Afraid she wouldn’t like him. Afraid that once the debt was settled, the bond between them would disappear, and they would drift apart.

Shen Jizhi had never been afraid of anything in his life—except this one thing, just this one thing.

A tear slipped down Jian Huan’s cheek like a raindrop falling from a roof, startling even herself.

She was about to wipe it away before Shen Jizhi noticed, but his hand was already there, gently brushing the tear from her face. “I was wrong to lie to you. Will these spiritual fruits make up for it?”

“Also, our debt is settled now,” Shen Jizhi said, looking up at her. His glass-like eyes held only her reflection as he spoke in a low voice, “Let me ask you again. Jian Huan, I like you. Do you think I’d still make a suitable partner for you?”