Turning My Junior Sister into a Mary Sue In Xianxia Yuri World

The wardrobe was quite small, and Huang Quan’s cheek was almost pressed against Ye Anping’s chest.

She could feel the firmness and breadth of his chest; despite not being particularly tall, the Young Master exuded an unusual sense of security.

When Yun Yiyi first suggested having the Young Master of Hundred Lotus Sect marry into their family, Huang Quan was the one who worried the most.

In her experience, most men who married into their wives’ families were ugly and incompetent, often despised by their in-laws.

It was even common for them to have a maid stand in for them on their wedding night.

Huang Quan had feared that “Ye Anping” would be an unsightly man with bad habits.

But now…

—The Young Mistress’s husband is amazing~~!!

She felt she would be able to enjoy a good life following him.

If she managed to build a good relationship with the Young Master, there was a chance she could rise from a maid to a concubine—especially given that he was the Young Master of Hundred Lotus Sect.

Though the status of being a concubine might not compare to the Young Mistress, it was still worlds apart from her current status as a mere servant.

Relaxing a little, Huang Quan snuggled closer against Ye Anping.

However, she suddenly realized—why did the Young Master bring her into the wardrobe? Did he sense something was wrong?

What could possibly go wrong inside the Yun Residence?

She had come to warm the bed after seeing with her own eyes that the Young Mistress was already asleep.

There was no way the Young Mistress would wake up and suddenly come over to the Young Master’s room, right?

—If the Young Mistress saw me warming his bed, she’d definitely be furious!

—Is that why the Young Master brought me into the wardrobe?

Huang Quan found her theory quite logical.

However, just as she was lost in thought, Ye Anping suddenly covered her mouth and nose with his hand.

At the same time, a faint sound of the door being pushed open came from outside the wardrobe.

Creak—

A man wearing a gray cloak and holding a spiritual sword pushed the door open slightly, peering through the crack and scanning the room.

Upon noticing the raised blankets on the bed, he inserted a hollow bamboo tube through the gap in the door.

Ye Anping squinted, still unsure of what the intruder intended, until he saw a mass of purple spiritual mist, resembling cotton, slowly flowing from the tip of the bamboo tube.

Poison mist?

Was the man an alchemist?

Ye Anping couldn’t see the intruder clearly and didn’t dare release his spiritual sense to probe further.

He wasn’t sure of the enemy’s cultivation level, and judging from the footsteps earlier, there were at least three people—two likely keeping watch outside, ready to ambush him in case the first man failed.

Their plan was sound, but unfortunately for them, whether it was strong poison or weak poison, it had no effect on him.

However, while it was harmless to him, the same couldn’t be said for Huang Quan.

Frowning, Ye Anping tightened his grip over Huang Quan’s mouth and nose, signaling with his eyes: Hold your breath.

Whoosh—

The poison mist continued to fill the room, spreading into every corner within moments.

Ye Anping took a slight breath, feeling nothing out of the ordinary, but Huang Quan beside him couldn’t bear it any longer.

“Cough, cough—”

Despite his hand covering her mouth and nose, the poison mist seemed to be effective even without direct inhalation.

Hearing her coughing, Ye Anping quickly turned to look at her, noticing bloodshot eyes, and a bloody sensation on the hand that covered her mouth.

“Mmph… cough, cough—cough…”

“Tsk.”

Ye Anping clicked his tongue in frustration, hurriedly retrieving a pill from his storage bag and forcing it into her mouth.

He then used healing techniques to temporarily seal several of her meridians, trying to prevent the poison from spreading further in her body.

However, this was only a temporary solution.

Huang Quan’s cultivation was only at the second or third layer of Qi Refining, and even with the pill’s help, prolonged exposure to the poison mist would be fatal.

Ye Anping was also uncertain of the cultivations of the three intruders; rushing out with Huang Quan would almost certainly result in an ambush.

What to do?

As Ye Anping watched Huang Quan cough up blood, an idea sparked.

He immediately began to cough loudly.

“Cough, cough, cough—!!”

He grabbed a random object from his storage bag and threw it through the gap in the wardrobe door, hitting a glass vase on the dressing table with a loud crash.

Crash—

The vase shattered into pieces, making a loud noise.

“What’s happening?! Help!! Someone!! Cough, cough—”

Ye Anping shouted hoarsely, keeping his voice low and raspy, and threw a small dagger that knocked over a wooden stool beside the round table.

“Ah… help…”

He continued his feigned weak cries, all the while closely monitoring Huang Quan’s condition.

—Ten breaths.

Huang Quan could probably only last ten breaths longer.

If by the eighth breath the intruders hadn’t broken in, he would have no choice but to break through the back window with her.

“Hang on, don’t fall asleep.”

Ye Anping urged, counting silently in his mind.

On the count of “six”—

Creak—

The bedroom door slowly opened.

Instantly, the purple poison mist surged out like a flood, rushing out of the room.

Within just a couple of breaths, the once-filled room was completely cleared of the poisonous mist.

Ye Anping let out a sigh of relief, forming a sword sign with his right hand, readying his spiritual sword, his eyes locked on the bedroom door.

A man in a purple cloak crossed the threshold, holding a sword in hand.

He glanced around the room, pausing in confusion at the sight of the raised blankets on the bed.

Hesitating for a moment, he tiptoed cautiously towards the bed.

Ye Anping squinted, his mind clear: Early Foundation Establishment—I can take him out in one hit!

As the man raised his sword to stab the blanket—

Bang—

Ye Anping forcefully pushed open the wardrobe doors.

Since the wardrobe was directly opposite the bed, the man was caught off guard and instinctively turned around, only to see a spiritual sword descending like the head of a dragon, slashing straight towards him.

The man instinctively lifted his sword horizontally to block above his head, trying to defend against the strike.

However—

Slash—

Ye Anping’s spiritual sword seemed to pass right through the man’s sword, a silver flash cutting across.

The man’s eyes widened as a searing pain shot through his neck.

Thud—

His vision tilted to the side, aligning with Ye Anping’s feet.

“Ah–”

He seemed to want to say something, but his voice box was no longer attached to his head.

As blood pooled around him, Ye Anping sheathed his spiritual sword and glanced at the open bedroom door.

Seeing that the other two had yet to enter, he contemplated for a moment before smiling faintly.

Retrieving his spiritual sword into his storage bag, Ye Anping stepped forward, took the man’s sword, and stripped him of his blood-stained gray cloak and mask, putting them on himself.