My Husband’s Ascension Ch 16
Chapter 16 Unthinkable Affection
Rumble rumble—
The cavern walls shuddered, stone crashing down in a deafening roar, as though heaven and earth themselves trembled in dread.
Dao Lord Tianshu remained silent for a long while, his gaze never leaving her.
The young woman’s intent to kill—raw and untempered, sharp yet as unrefined as a fledgling beast—could not hope to cow him.
Yet still, in that instant, he felt his heart sear.
Was that… anger he had felt?
Why?
Was it truly only because she had vowed to kill him?
That she would harbor such thoughts was startling, yes, but hardly beyond reason. Even if Shi Lanyan herself were here to hear those words, she would likely do no more than freeze for a heartbeat before bursting into laughter.
A sovereign beast that stands atop all creation does not tremble at the scratch of a kitten’s claws.
…Then why was he angered?
Dao Lord Tianshu turned the unfamiliar feeling over and over within himself. Only after some time did he lift his gaze to the flickering shadow that swept across the cavern roof.
Lowering his head, the glass-like depths of his eyes gleamed with something strange.
“Tree roots? You lured them here?”
Zhao Zhao had not expected him to perceive her ploy so swiftly. Startled, she stumbled back a step.
She was no fool to sit and await death.
Why Dao Lord Tianshu chose not to kill her, she could not fathom—perhaps it was disdain, perhaps something else—but she had no wish to dwell on it. Since a sliver of life remained, she would seize it.
In the Ink-Washed Mountains, the aura of wood was dense and unending.
Here, even Zhao Zhao, but a cultivator at the fifth stage of Dawn of Heaven, could draw upon the ceaseless tide of wood essence between heaven and earth, gaining strength far beyond her own cultivation.
With a thunderous crash, the cavern roof gave way, blinding sunlight pouring into the once-gloomy mine. Countless roots burst downward, spreading in wild profusion. What were once pliant fibers, now nourished by wood spirit, grew madly, piercing even the hardest stone.
Yet even roots that could rend rock and split mountains were no more than common obstacles before Dao Lord Tianshu. As they surged toward him like dancing silver serpents, his figure hardly shifted; with the ease of a man strolling through a courtyard, he carved a path through the storm of roots, each sweep of his blade effortless.
But he was a step too late.
At the edge of that sudden brilliance, a corner of green clothing flickered and disappeared over the cavern.
He stood in silence for a time, then lowered his gaze to the severed roots strewn across the ground. Stripped of their nourishment, they had reverted to what they were—frail, pliant things, weak and easily broken.
In utmost gentleness lies the seed of unshakable strength…
This Dao, indeed, suited her well.
…
Zhao Zhao burned through every last wind control talisman, fleeing who knew how long through the Ink-Washed Mountains, before finally halting in a stretch of forest.
Since cultivating the Dao of Divine Farmer, it was within the woods that she felt safest.
Drained of all strength, Zhao Zhao clambered up a towering tree, drawing upon what little spiritual power remained to conceal herself within the lush canopy, shrouding both form and aura. Only then did she allow herself to relax.
…If he caught up, would he really kill her?
The belated tide of fear rose at last.
Curling into herself, Zhao Zhao hugged her knees, making her body as small as she could.
He had said he never thought of taking her life.
But how dare he utter such words?
Had he not denied the years they shared at Yunmeng Pier, cast her out of the cultivation world, and decreed she would never tread the immortal path? How is that not a death in itself?
Sunlight filtered through the interstices of the leaves, dappling her face with shifting specks of gold.
The effort of rousing the tree roots had consumed far too much of her strength—she could not even lift a finger now.
And yet, while she was still drowning in her thoughts, the Yearning Mirror in her arms gave a faint tremor.
Zhao Zhao drew it forth, hesitating for a time before ultimately invoking the hand seals, and the mirror displayed its vision.
“Jiejie!”
A little girl’s crisp voice burst within her sea of consciousness. Though scarcely half a day had passed, to Zhao Zhao it felt as though a lifetime had gone by.
“Jiejie, how’s your training going inside the blessed land? Have you been punching yao beasts and kicking strange monsters? The old man said I should wait until you return before asking, but I really, really want to see what the Blessed Land of Langhuan looks like!”
Another small head squeezed into the little Yearning Mirror.
“The blessed land is very dangerous, jiejie, you must take good care of yourself.” Rong Yu’s soft voice was earnest as he reminded Zhao Zhao, “If you’re injured, you must remember to take the pills that the Sect Master gave you. If you’re hungry, take a hunger-warding pill, and… and—”
“What injury! Jiejie is amazing! Don’t you curse her like that!”
Rong Yu, ears being tugged, gazed up at Zhao Zhao with tear-bright eyes, as though waiting for her to come to his defense.
Yet Zhao Zhao found herself unable to speak.
Even though this was but a conversation within her sea of consciousness, she feared she might lose control and cry like a child.
Fortunately, Daoist Ming Jue soon appeared to chase the two children away, confiscating the mirror from their hands as well.
“Those two are ignorant of the danger, but how can you also be so careless? Do you not know how perilous the blessed lands are? How can you choose this moment to open the Yearning Mirror?”
The Daoist, ever smiling in the past, wore rare severity as he admonished her.
Zhao Zhao bit back her words, but in the end could not help but whisper, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s my fault. I’ve ruined everything… I’ve ruined it all.”
Daoist Ming Jue’s expression showed a flicker of surprise.
“What happened?”
Zhao Zhao recounted in brief the events that had unfolded in the Blessed Land of Langhuan that day. At first she spoke with some composure, but the further she went, the heavier her voice grew, sorrow and guilt tangling together, until in the end her words were choked with sobs.
“…So that’s how it was.” Daoist Ming Jue had not expected so much to have transpired in the span of half a day. He took some time to digest it all before finally speaking, “Why do you believe you ruined everything? In this brittle bones’ eyes, you have done far better than I ever imagined.”
Zhao Zhao, hugging her knees with her head buried, slowly lifted her gaze toward the mirror she had set aside.
“Master need not try to comfort me.”
“Hehehe… This is no comfort.”
Seeing that she seemed to be in a safe place, Daoist Ming Jue patiently explained, “Think on it. You have cultivated for barely two months. After only half a day in the Blessed Land of Langhuan, you have already grasped the Divine Farmer Dao’s healing and restoration arts, and even used them to subdue two Kunwu sword cultivators. When facing Dao Lord Tianshu, though the situation was against you, you still managed to think of a countermeasure and even succeeded in escaping. You have perfectly accomplished the goal I had in mind when I sent you into the blessed land—to advance your cultivation.”
Zhao Zhao’s lashes were still wet with tears, but after listening to him, she thought for a moment and commented, “In fact, there’s even more. I gathered many spirit ores, many of them worth a fortune. After forging the necessary swords, the remainder can be sold. From now on, Cloudculm Abode will never lack money.”
Daoist Ming Jue chuckled, eyes narrowing into crescents. “See? Is that not already far beyond expectations?”
As though touched by his cheerful outlook, Zhao Zhao’s heavy mood lightened for an instant—yet just as quickly, something else came to mind, and her expression fell again.
“But I didn’t recognize him and now Dao Lord Tianshu knows I intend to kill him! What if he turns that against Cloudculm Abode—”
At the thought, Zhao Zhao could not help but sink into remonstration with herself. “I shouldn’t have confessed to Shi Lanyan. If I hadn’t, Dao Lord Tianshu wouldn’t know, and things wouldn’t have reached this point of no return…”
“What? You plan to kill Dao Lord Tianshu?”
It was unclear when he had started eavesdropping, but Li Feng suddenly emerged, laughing and slapping his thigh. “Hahahaha… you’re overestimating your capabilities! If I were Dao Lord Tianshu, holding back from laughing you to death right then would be my only courtesy. If he really harms Cloudculm Abode, I’d lose all respect for him!”
Before Zhao Zhao could punish him, Yao Ling sprang up and leapt onto his shoulder, smacking his head from above.
Yao Ling: “Don’t you mock jiejie! How could you raise others at your own team’s expense! You dolt!”
Li Feng: “Hey, where did this little lassy learn such insults? So vicious. Xie Tanzhao, you really need to rein her in!”
Rong Yu: “Don’t bully Ling Ling! I won’t allow you to bully her!”
The Yearning Mirror erupted into a clamorous tangle of voices.
Daoist Ming Jue, after struggling his way to the mirror, addressed Zhao Zhao. “Li Feng speaks roughly but not without reason. Moreover, if Dao Lord Tianshu truly planned to slay you, why would he bother to parley with you, disguise himself as Shi Lanyan, and accompany you into the caverns to seek ore? Were it not for your fear that he’d kill you, these brittle bones would venture that Dao Lord Tianshu still harbors some lingering feelings for you.”
“…That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
Who in the world, still harboring “lingering feelings,” would act like Dao Lord Tianshu?
Zhao Zhao would rather believe that Dao Lord Tianshu didn’t kill her simply because he remained a Dao Lord, the foremost of the righteous sects. Even if she’d said she intended to kill him, he would not casually slay her over a single declaration.
Still—
After an incident like this, once she left the Blessed Land of Langhuan, Cloudculm Abode simply could not remain at Small Sword Pass.
Just as Zhao Zhao closed the Yearning Mirror and steeled herself to consider what to do next, a hand suddenly clapped over her mouth from behind.
“Shh—don’t make a sound.” A familiar voice whispered into her mind; the person behind her used a voice-transmission. “Xie Tanzhao, you actually left me alone in that cave to be trapped by Kunwu’s lot! I gave you so many things for free, and you repay me with this? You owe me your life in atonement!!”
At the sound of that familiar tone, Zhao Zhao unexpectedly felt a small, warm tug of gratitude.
“How did you get out?”
Shi Lanyan, now returned to her true appearance, snorted coldly. “My sect, Polaris Confucian, has artifacts by the dozens. They thought they’d caught me, but what they actually captured was my effigy. They’ve probably noticed by now, but what of it? I slipped out long ago!”
Zhao Zhao curved her lips in a faint smile.
“But tell me, Miss Immortal Lanyan, how did you manage to find me here?”
Shi Lanyan retorted, “Find you? Hardly, I was—wait, they’re coming. Quickly, share some of your leaves with me!”
Without a sound, Zhao Zhao stirred her spiritual power, extending the concealment to shroud Shi Lanyan’s presence as well.
Within the forest, footsteps drew nearer, their cadence measured and inexorable. A trailing hem swept across the fallen leaves, silks whispering as they passed.
Throughout this blessed land, all were garbed for battle or travel. Only one could appear with such stately elegance—none other than Mount Ling’s veiled Wu-Shaman.
“Esteemed Wu-Shaman Xian.”
Suspended in the air, the Yearning Mirror revealed the image of a woman crowned with a poppy-red hair cuff. Her features bore a heavy resemblance to the veiled Wu-Shaman, yet her bearing was altogether different. She sat upright before the mirror with innate majesty, her visage awe-inspiring even in stillness, brooking no defiance.
“Well?”
The veiled Wu-Shaman knitted her brows and replied, “The planchette writing divinated individuals have yet to make a move. Perhaps they still linger, hidden in the shadows—”
“I told you long ago—Heaven’s Dao abides by its own constancy. To foresee destiny does not mean one can change it.”
At these words, the veiled Wu-Shaman, unwilling and resentful, protested, “If it is as Esteemed Wu-Shaman Xian says, then is the destruction of our Mount Ling clan truly inevitable, impossible to alter?”
Hidden in the shadows, Zhao Zhao was taken aback.
The destruction of Mount Ling?
From Shi Lanyan’s eyes, she saw the same astonishment reflected.
The Mount Ling lineage had arisen in the same era as the earliest sects of the cultivation world. Though they were not adept at battle as the cultivators were, their history stretched back more than ten thousand years, sustained through the strength of divination. Could it be that Mount Ling had indeed divined an omen of their own ruin?
“Heh…”
Within the mirror, Wu-Shaman Xian lowered her gaze. With stalks of grass, she cast out hexagrams upon the table. Her smile was soft, yet bereft of the slightest warmth.
“Speak of altering Mount Ling’s fate of annihilation another time. Mi Yao*, are you unaware there are listeners skulking behind you, eavesdropping even now?”
(TLN: 宓瑶, I think this is the veiled Wu-Shaman’s real name.)
The veiled Wu-Shaman spun sharply about.
“Who goes there?!”
The Mount Ling shamans guarding her leapt into the trees in the blink of an eye, swiftly discovering the two figures concealed amidst the canopy.
“Oh no!” Shi Lanyan seized Zhao Zhao without the slightest hesitation. “Run!”
Catching her off guard, Zhao Zhao asked, “Isn’t it said that Mount Ling shamans are no adepts at combat? You can’t beat them?”
“It is not that I cannot beat them—look behind them!”
As Zhao Zhao fled at full speed, she risked a glance back over her shoulder.
Behind the veiled Wu-Shaman, beyond those shamans, came wave upon wave of itinerant cultivators—
Every last one of them ensnared by Mount Ling shamans’ gu.
The veiled Wu-Shaman gazed at their retreating figures, her voice cold and measured as she commanded, “This matter must never be revealed. At any cost—kill them both.”
