My Husband’s Ascension C24 (Part 1)
TL Note: The last chapter of my other side project, The Chairman’s Mistaken Canary, is finally publized! This means we are now getting two updates for In the Shadow of My Husband’s Ascension per week, starting this week! Next update will be tomorrow, cheers! 🥳🎉
Proofread and tlced by 旭亭
Chapter 24.1 Vying for Affection
Zhongli Shun had approached the interview with confidence, yet the outcome eluded all his reasoning. “I… I didn’t mean that. Miss Immortal, do you think I aim too high? Or that my heart to become your disciple isn’t sincere?”
The barely nine-year-old Zhongli Shun could hardly be called a pampered young master, yet he had rarely had to beg anyone for anything.
Seeing Zhao Zhao’s smile fade slightly, a shadow of displeasure crossing her features, he could not understand why. Flustered, he spilled all the merits he could think of in a rush. “I truly wish to become your disciple. What must I do so you know I’m not merely flattering you?”
“Throughout the Zhongli Clan’s examinations, I rank in the top ten in every assessment.”
“At the clan’s martial training grounds, I arrive first and leave last every day. Wind, sun, illness, no matter what, I have never once shirked my duties.”
“If you are willing to accept me as your disciple, Miss Immortal, I will obey faithfully, without the slightest hesitation!”
Hearing this, everyone present felt moved by the boy’s earnest devotion to his studies—everyone, that is, except Li Feng, who let out a derisive snort.
“You work so hard, yet only make the top ten and not first? Then your talent isn’t all that remarkable, is it?”
At this age, Zhongli Shun’s pride was still fierce. Li Feng’s cold ridicule, though true, cut sharply, leaving him both embarrassed and angry. He glared at Li Feng, then turned toward Zhao Zhao, as if wanting to plead his case. But opening his mouth, he paused, stubbornly forcing the words back down with tightly furrowed brows.
If he were to explain that he wasn’t first simply because his clan had never invested resources in him, it would sound like a feeble excuse. Better to remain silent than be misunderstood.
The cavern was shrouded in gloom, yet by the firelight, Zhao Zhao glimpsed a subtle likeness of Dao Lord Tianshu upon the boy’s visage.
More precisely, the subtle likeness of Dao Lord Tianshu in his childhood.
Yet unlike the young Dao Lord Tianshu, already bearing an air of cold detachment and disinterest, this boy was like a tender shoot in spring, brimming with determination to prove himself to the world.
…The more so, the more Zhao Zhao felt troubled.
This boy seemed to regard her as a lifeline, a last hope.
And yet, he bore the Zhongli surname and had set his heart on Dao Lord Tianshu, looking up to him with deep admiration.
Having finally managed to distance herself from Dao Lord Tianshu, must she now contend with a younger version of him parading under her nose every day?
Zhao Zhao felt a complex tug at her heart, caught between the boy’s earnest, hopeful gaze and her own reluctance.
She neither gave a direct answer nor outright refusal, merely saying that it was late and everyone was weary, and that a decision could be made after a night’s rest.
“If you still wish for her to accept you as her disciple, heed these brittle bones’ counsel: don’t mention the name ‘Dao Lord Tianshu’ again.”
While Zhao Zhao busied herself arranging bedding for the children, Daoist Ming Jue’s words carried a weighty undertone, a subtle warning meant to linger in the boy’s mind.
Zhongli Shun was utterly puzzled. Could it be that this female cultivator holds enmity toward Dao Lord Tianshu?
Yet she seemed kind, gentle, and indifferent to worldly affairs. How could she possibly bear any ill will toward him?
Filled with curiosity and wonder, Zhongli Shun felt that by some twist of fate, he had stumbled upon a truly mysterious sect.
The fire dwindled, and the cave sank into darkness.
Nestled into the soft bedding Zhao Zhao had prepared, Zhongli Shun tossed and turned for some time before finally succumbing to drowsiness. Just as sleep began to claim him, a gentle poke at his back startled him awake.
It was Rong Yu sleeping to his right.
He gestured for silence, then gently took Zhongli Shun’s hand and led him quietly out of the cave.
Still puzzled, Zhongli Shun’s understanding only began to dawn when he saw Yao Ling at the entrance.
“—Zhongli Shun, you cannot enter our sect as a disciple.”
Though barely a head shorter than him, the little girl’s presence was imposing, and her declaration struck Zhongli Shun dumb.
The scene felt all too familiar, instantly stirring memories of being bullied back at his clan’s academy.
Even family of the same blood, once woven into the rigid hierarchies of a prominent clan, could become a cage of rank and privilege. Having grown up in such a high-pressure environment, Zhongli Shun instinctively raised walls of defense at the slightest echo of that atmosphere.
“…Why not?” He lifted his chin, and on his stubborn, proud face flickered a trace of defiance. “You are merely disciples; whether to accept me is Master’s decision.”
Yao Ling’s eyes widened in surprise. “Master hasn’t said she will take you as a disciple yet. That’s our Master, not yours!”
Zhongli Shun winced at her words, a fleeting expression of hurt crossing his face.
The Zhongli Clan would not accept him.
Even these strangers he had just met would not accept him.
Was it his fault? Was he truly so inadequate that he could never escape being disliked?
His crystalline eyes shimmered with emotion, yet before the waves could gather into tears, he swiped them away fiercely with his sleeve.
“I have greater talent than you! If Master is willing to teach me, to let me devote myself to cultivation as you do, I will grow faster and be better able to protect Master! I will not lose to you!!”
The boy, taller than Yao Ling by a head, spoke each word with deliberate force, his beautiful eyes alight with the blazing spark of unyielding resolve.
Even ever-fiery Yao Ling was momentarily taken aback.
She understood the look in Zhongli Shun’s eyes.
That was the stubbornness of a cornered little beast; one more step back, and it would plunge into an abyss. There could be no retreat, no yielding.
And the reason she could understand it was because she had once been the same.
Abandoned as a child in a dilapidated temple on the outskirts of the cultivation realm, she had been kept alive by the meager scraps of rice congee and leftover morsels offered by nearby beggars.
At three years old, she had no parents, no means to survive. The only way to live was to scavenge like a little rat along the gutters.
Fortunately, she was too small to pose a threat; even when caught taking leftover food, no one beat her to death—they simply waved her away like swatting a fly, banishing her to a place where they couldn’t see her.
Fortunately, her days of wandering were not long.
She met Rong Yu, gaining a companion, and later encountered Daoist Ming Jue. Though the old man was somewhat unreliable, he at least provided her with a roof over her head.
Now, she had her true Master, and her life had been turned utterly upside down.
Master would prepare her wholesome, delicious meals and lay her in fragrant, cozy bedding.
That tangled, matted hair of hers was patiently smoothed and gathered into a simple yet elegant hairstyles by Master’s hands.
When she wished to cultivate, Master found her sword techniques and cultivation manuals. When she wished to practice swordsmanship, Master forged a sword from priceless ore for her.
In the quiet of midnight, Yao Ling sometimes felt fear.
She feared that everything she cherished was merely a fleeting dream before her death, that in reality no one would ever accept her as a disciple, no one would teach her calligraphy or swordsmanship.
The more she treasured it, the more afraid she was of losing it.
The moment she laid eyes on Zhongli Shun, a subtle sense of crisis rose in her heart.
This boy was taller than her, older than her, and a child of a cultivation family, seemingly blessed with talent.
If he were to become her Master’s disciple as well, would he be favored more?
Would everything she and Rong Yu had be taken from them from that moment on?
Yao Ling strained to find areas where she might have an advantage over him, but the more she thought, the more she could only see her own shortcomings.
She was a girl, and many sects preferred male disciples.
Her sharp tongue and blunt demeanor meant she didn’t know how to charm or flatter, unlike him, whose eloquence could win favor with others.
Yao Ling had no background of her own, while the boy before her was the scion of the Zhongli Clan, able to use his lineage as leverage to ingratiate himself with their Master.
The more Yao Ling thought about it, the more powerless she felt.
Her usual fiery spirit seemed drained all at once, and she wilted like a frost-stricken flower.
Zhongli Shun had delivered his bold words and waited a moment, expecting the sharp-tongued little girl to retaliate, but when no response came, unease crept into his heart.
‘…Is she crying?’
He bent slightly and tilted his head, only to see that the girl’s fierce bravado had evaporated.
She really was crying.
“You’re bullying her!” Rong Yu, usually meek and soft as dough, saw the redness in Yao Ling’s eyes and immediately scowled.
That small, delicate face, knitted in anger, carried an unexpected weight, making Zhongli Shun slightly flustered.
“I’m not… she was so fierce just now…wait, that’s not right, you two pulled me out first to bully me!”
“Not true! Yao Ling never bullies anyone!”
“Nonsense! She even dared to bully demons!”
The two boys started shirking blame, shouting over each other.
Yao Ling, however, shoved them both aside, dashed back into the cave, and burrowed into Zhao Zhao’s blanket like a little worm.
When the children had run off, Zhao Zhao and the others were already awake.
But usually, she didn’t meddle in matters concerning the kids, nor did she let anyone else interfere.
It wasn’t until Yao Ling returned alone and wound herself around her like an octopus that Zhao Zhao finally asked, “What’s wrong?”
Yao Ling didn’t answer.
Zhao Zhao reached out and patted her soft, fluffy head.
After months of care, the girl’s previously brittle, yellowed hair had grown darker and smoother, feeling far nicer to the touch.
Yao Ling didn’t speak up herself, and so Zhao Zhao didn’t press. Unlike Rong Yu, this child was sharp-tongued yet sensitive and stubborn; if she chose not to say something, there was surely a reason.
Zhao Zhao tucked the blanket around her and smiled gently, “Then get some rest early. We have a lot to do tomorrow.”
The night was quiet. Water dripped from the stone ledges of the cave, echoing softly.
After a while, the other two children crept back as well. From nearby, Li Feng, stirred by the sound, turned over, preparing to settle back to sleep.
Half-dreaming, half-awake, Zhao Zhao thought she heard the little girl mumble softly: “I will be stronger than everyone else… so Master, you must like me the most.”
