My Husband’s Ascension C27 (Part 2)
Chapter 27.2 Unsheath
“Gotta admit,” Li Feng said after they’d gone some distance, already munching on a spiritual fruit, “that arctic fox sure grows fine spiritual fruits. Seems he hasn’t been slacking off this past month.”
Only moments ago he’d been grinding his teeth in anger, yet now he’d already forgotten the fox’s earlier provocation, happily eating one fruit after another.
Zhao Zhao flipped through the pile of herbs and plants, sighing with a faint headache. “He hasn’t slacked off in other matters either. After this month, he probably knows every brick of Beaconlight Mountain by heart.”
Not that anyone had gone out of their way to stop him, but the arctic fox’s energy truly seemed boundless.
By day, he worked diligently in the spiritual fields.
By night, he darted all over the mountain, digging up every corner as if determined not to leave a single patch unexamined.
And no matter when Zhao Zhao appeared before him, he was always immaculate—every strand of hair, every seam of his robe spotless and pristine.
According to Li Feng, who had once accidentally caught sight of him bathing, the arctic fox’s long hair was naturally wavy. Heaven only knew how much time he spent each day making it straight, smooth, and glossy as silk.
Just that boundless effort alone was enough to earn Zhao Zhao’s respect.
Li Feng: “But we ought to keep him in the dark about us going to the Zhongli Clan today, right?”
Zhao Zhao nodded. “I had Master tamper with that Moondew Frost. Once he applies it, he’ll be out for an entire day. When we return, I’ll switch it out for a normal one.”
The Tushan Clan were local powers in Jimo Sea; it was better to avoid provoking them if possible.
Hearing this, Li Feng gave Zhao Zhao a look from head to toe, then raised his thumb approvingly. “Unmoved by temptation, truly a hero among women.”
He loathed to admit it, yet objectively, that arctic fox was indeed remarkable. And with his deliberate imitation of that Dao Lord’s elegant poise, he truly exuded the bearing of a refined gentleman, gentle and polished as jade.
If Zhao Zhao were to develop feelings for him, it wouldn’t be surprising in the least.
Yet from start to finish, she always maintained that same air—her heart seeming both touched and untouched at once.
“Not entirely so,” Zhao Zhao said, blinking with a hint of mischief. “I truly couldn’t bear to see those lovely hands grow calloused, that part, at least, was sincere.”
Li Feng: …Heh.
When word spread that Zhao Zhao would be visiting Zhongli Shun that afternoon, both Yao Ling and Rong Yu clamored to join.
Rong Yu was Yao Ling’s shadow, where she went, he followed, but Yao Ling’s motive was crystal clear:
She absolutely could not allow Zhongli Shun to secretly get close to Master behind her back!
Zhao Zhao had no choice but to take the two along.
Along the way, the little girl’s eyes were wide and round, her tiny frame held perfectly straight, as if the moment Zhao Zhao and Zhongli Shun so much as exchanged a glance too many, she would draw her sword and fight him to the death.
Seeing her so, Zhao Zhao could only sigh inwardly.
Who would have thought that someone who had never borne a child, and never intended to, could somehow understand so vividly the tension between an eldest daughter and a new sibling?
But in truth, her visit to the Zhongli Clan today, bearing those spiritual herbs and plants, was not to take Zhongli Shun as her disciple—but to refuse him once and for all.
They had already been on Beaconlight Mountain for some time. From the Tushan Clan’s earlier banquet invitation, followed by presenting them with an arctic fox infiltrator, it was plain that the Tushan Clan harbored ambitions of swallowing the Zhongli Clan whole.
The fact that the Zhongli Clan had fallen apart so quickly likely owed much to Tushan’s covert machinations.
The Zhongli Clan was now on the brink of total collapse. The Tushan Clan merely had to wait to reap the spoils, seizing control of Jimo Sea from their hands outright.
To involve themselves with the Zhongli Clan now would be nothing short of courting death.
She had, without knowing the full story, already sent a message to Immortal Realm of Kunwu on Zhongli Shun’s behalf once.
If she were to take him as her disciple now, it would be impossible for the Tushan Clan to believe she bore no covetous intent toward the Zhongli Clan.
Most likely, the moment she accepted him, the Tushan Clan’s people would storm Beaconlight Mountain to wipe out the threat she represented.
Between Yao Ling and Rong Yu, and Zhongli Shun—Zhao Zhao could only choose one.
The Zhongli Clan’s estate soon came into view.
The sun blazed high, and the day was sweltering. The guarding disciples outside the gates, upon hearing they were there to see Zhongli Shun, fished out a thick registry and flipped through it for an eternity before finally finding his name among the clan’s many scions, confirming that such a person indeed existed.
After quite some time, the disciple dispatched from the manor finally came back to report. “He isn’t at the main estate and is most likely over at the academy. You may look for him there.”
By then, Li Feng had already been standing under the scorching sun for nearly an hour, and his short temper ignited instantly. “Why couldn’t you say so earlier? A clan this big, and it takes an hour just to find where your own young master is? What’s the point of keeping all these useless servants alive?”
Zhao Zhao took a discreet step back, wary of getting implicated in the anticipated fight.
But to her surprise, the disciple of the Zhongli Clan only gave Li Feng a measured once-over before apologizing politely, admitting their internal mismanagement, and even dispatching a steward-like cultivator to personally escort them to the academy, his attitude unfailingly courteous.
Watching quietly from the side, Zhao Zhao thought to herself that the signs of the Zhongli Clan’s decay were already plain to see.
Had Li Feng spoken like that outside the Tushan Clan’s estate, he would have long been beaten out with sticks.
Yet here, standing before the gates of the once-prestigious Zhongli Clan and being so blatantly rude, the people inside dared not flare up.
They must have sensed that Li Feng’s cultivation was not low and, after weighing the odds, chose not to provoke him.
For a household of such stature to fear even offending someone like Li Feng, it showed just how far they had fallen.
“This is the academy,” said the leading disciple, guiding them farther inward.
Zhao Zhao swept her gaze around. The academy, at least in structure, was quite imposing. Rows of two-storied pavilions lined the path ahead, each resembling a training chamber.
There was even a sword pavilion rising like a pagoda, and a towering platform for sword duels.
But when she drew closer to the great lotus pond, the sight before her made her sigh. Every lotus within had withered to gray husks.
It was midsummer yet even the lotus flowers here had long died. Clearly, the place had been neglected for some time.
“Young Master Shun should be up ahead, at the practicing platform—”
No sooner had he spoken than the sound of loud argument erupted from that very direction.
Zhongli Shun stood on the practicing area, face flushed with anger, several peers gathered at his back as he argued heatedly with another group.
“As rules speculate, this practicing platform must be registered for beforehand,” he said indignantly. “The day before yesterday you didn’t register, and yesterday you didn’t either. We’ve already yielded to you twice, yet you barely stayed for a single incense stick’s time before wandering off and still you forbid us from using it? Zhongli Yao, don’t you think you’ve gone too far!”
“Rules?” sneered the young man opposite him. “In the Zhongli Clan, we are the rules.”
The boy called Zhongli Yao stood a full head taller than Zhongli Shun. His robes were of fine silk, far more luxurious than anything worn by Zhongli Shun and the few children behind him.
“We’ll use the practicing platform whenever we please. Even if we’re not using it, you still can’t go up there. Besides—” Zhongli Yao’s lips curved in mockery. “You don’t even have real swords. What are you going to do on the platform? Play in the mud?”
The children behind him burst into laughter.
It was then Zhao Zhao noticed the swords hanging from Zhongli Shun and his companions’ waists were all wooden.
No wonder he’d only ranked among the top five in the clan academy’s trials. To face steel blades with wooden ones and still achieve such a score, he was already exceptional.
Rong Yu tugged at Zhao Zhao’s sleeve. “Master, don’t their sects issue swords?”
His own master had barely returned from the blessed realm before taking them to a swordsmith, where each of them had been given a finely forged blade.
“Idiot,” Yao Ling muttered darkly, her eyes fixed on the boy upon the platform. “You think every master in the world is as good as ours? There are plenty of old men too broke to buy their disciples a sword.”
Zhao Zhao sighed softly. “You’d best not say that in front of your grandmaster. He’d be heartbroken to hear it.”
Yao Ling didn’t think so. In her mind, the old man would only be delighted, happy that having taken on disciples meant he could now live off them in peace, becoming the most effortlessly blessed master in existence.
But as she watched Zhongli Shun being mocked and humiliated on the platform, a strange heaviness welled up inside her chest.
“Who says he has no real sword?!”
Yao Ling’s sudden shout drew every gaze to her. A flash of sword light cut through the air—her small, elegant blade that had been hanging at her waist was already spinning toward the practicing platform.
Zhongli Shun flinched, startled by the sudden gleam. For a moment he thought the little girl meant to strike him and instinctively stepped back.
The sword landed point-first beside his foot, quivering slightly as it embedded itself in the platform’s stone.
Zhongli Shun blinked, stunned for a heartbeat before he understood.
The small girl, slight of frame but fierce in spirit, stood below the platform with her hands planted on her hips and commanded in a clear voice, “Draw it!”
Zhao Zhao tilted her head, a smile playing upon her lips. “Oh? Why the sudden urge to help him? Weren’t you the one who said you couldn’t stand him?”
Yao Ling huffed. “...I still don’t like him. But no matter what, he’s got a bit of connection to our sect, even if it’s just a tiny bit. I can’t just watch him act so pathetic and shame our name!”
Zhao Zhao’s eyes curved with quiet amusement, yet she didn’t expose her. “I see.”
Only then did Zhongli Yao on the platform notice the strangers within the academy. His expression darkened, and he turned sharply toward the steward beside Zhao Zhao. “Who are they? Who let them into the academy?”
The steward bowed slightly. “Replying to Young Master Yao, they’ve come seeking Young Master Shun.”
Zhongli Yao snorted irritably. “No wonder he’s been getting bolder lately, so he’s got outside reinforcements propping him up. Who are you, and which sect do you belong to? Speak your names!”
Li Feng bristled. “Speak your dad’s foot! We’re—”
Before the words “your ancestors” could leave his mouth, Zhao Zhao had already silenced him, immobilizing his body on the spot.
The situation had already far exceeded Zhao Zhao’s expectations. Though her face remained composed, her mind was quietly racing.
The Zhongli Clan, while clearly in decline, still had the remnants of considerable power. The fierce demeanor of Zhongli Yao and the other children hinted at lingering family wealth.
Should she choose to assist Zhongli Shun, it risked both offending his clan and losing goodwill with Tushan.
If she chose not to help…
Zhao Zhao felt a pang of conscience. She couldn’t bear to be so unscrupulous.
Her two righteous little disciples, with all their sense of justice, would surely be disappointed as well.
Sensing Zhao Zhao’s hesitation from the way she silenced Li Feng, Zhongli Yao let out a faint hum, evidently pleased with her tact.
He glanced at Zhongli Shun. “Dare to oppose me? You’re merely a forsaken offshoot of the Zhongli Clan. There are distinguished guests in the academy today, I’ve no time to trifle with you. Let’s go.”
Zhongli Yao cast a brief look at the small boy gripping his wooden sword in silence and felt a surge of satisfaction. Talent or not, what did it matter? Even sharing the Zhongli surname, did he really think he could stand on equal footing with him?
“Look at him, and he still dares to set his sights on Dao Lord Tianshu.”
“Overestimating himself, not even aware of what he really is.”
“With a temper like that, once Yao becomes clan head, we’ll just give him a shoes-cleaning position.”
The boys’ childish laughter echoed across the trial sword platform.
Zhongli Shun’s little companions nudged him anxiously, as if urging him to draw the sword and challenge Zhongli Yao.
But he did not move.
He knew that if he drew that sword, it would only bring trouble to Zhao Zhao and the others.
So, even though Yao Ling was willing to lend him her sword, he could not take it.
In the veranda, unnoticed, a figure leaned quietly against the railing, holding a folded fan, as if pausing to watch the commotion while passing by.
Alas, so many years away from the Zhongli Clan, and the air of survival-of-the-fittest is still palpable.
Yet it was far better than it had been back then. At least the boy with the wooden sword was still alive and lively, showing that some of Dao Lord Tianshu’s old rules had had their effect.
He was about to turn away, pretending he hadn’t seen, when a young woman’s clear, pure voice rang out like flowing spring water:
“Zhongli Shun, didn’t you want to be my disciple?”
The man’s steps came to an abrupt halt. He could hardly believe his eyes as he turned back, hastening along the veranda until at last he beheld the young woman’s face.
Could it be—
Zhao Zhao gazed at Zhongli Shun on the practicing platform and smiled, “If you wish to be my disciple, then draw that sword.”
.
.
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Author’s Note:
A little spoiler: the male lead hasn’t yet fallen into demonic corruption (though he’s definitely gone mad).
