My Husband’s Ascension C31
Chapter 31 Pearl Bestowed
The air was hazy with kitchen smoke as a bowl of steaming Yangchun noodles was set on the low table.
Having eaten little that evening, Zhao Zhao’s stomach growled the instant the scent of scallion and lard wafted to her.
However, after the first bite, her brows furrowed tightly. “Water! It’s so salty!”
A slender, jade-white hand slid a cup toward her.
Zhao Zhao gulped down a mouthful, then poured the rest into the bowl. Only then did the taste become bearable.
“Perhaps my hand slipped.” The clear, crystalline voice rang softly in the kitchen as the Kunwu disciple in her snow-white robe took a quiet seat across from her. “If Miss Immortal does not wish to eat it, you may give it to your two yao familiars.”
Zhao Zhao thought better of it. It was only a little salty, still edible. And considering how Li Feng had practically licked his plate clean earlier, she’d have no excuse if she let him snatch her share again.
So she said nothing more, simply lowered her head and continued eating.
Though the noodles were a touch too salty, and the flavor not quite as good as before, there was something familiar about it all the same.
While eating, Zhao Zhao covertly studied the woman seated opposite her.
She truly had the countenance of one descended from the clouds: snow-pale skin, moonlit grace. Compared with Zhao Zhao, she stood taller, though not in a broad or imposing way—her frame was only a little wider than that of most women, making her seem all the more slender and refined, ethereal and composed, like jade carved by divine hands.
By appearance alone, Zhao Zhao could see no trace of Dao Lord Tianshu in front of her.
But…
There was something uncannily familiar about her.
“The meals sent to me yesterday and today…were all made by you?” Zhao Zhao asked.
The Kunwu disciple responded with a faint hum, pouring herself a cup of tea. “I made slightly more than needed, so there was an extra portion. I heard you are a guest invited by Lord Yaoguang, so I took the liberty of reserving one for you. If it does not suit your taste, I will not prepare it next time.”
“...It’s not that,” Zhao Zhao hurriedly interrupted. Compared to the Zhongli Clan’s cooks, she preferred ordinary meals. “It’s just…a coincidence that you happened to make exactly the dishes I like.”
The young woman’s lips curved faintly, and her eyes carried a hint of veiled mockery.
“Is that so? I thought perhaps the dishes were all given away because they did not suit your palate.”
A slight awkwardness stirred in Zhao Zhao. She wracked her mind, searching for a way to smooth over the moment, when she saw the young woman avert her gaze.
“Since they’re to your liking, Miss Immortal, next time, savor them on your own.”
When she emphasized “on your own,” her enunciation carried a weight, subtle yet suffocating—a pressure that, strangely, felt familiar.
Zhao Zhao’s gaze lingered on her face, and she asked cautiously, “Since Lord Yaoguang has entrusted you with half of the Zhongli Clan’s affairs, when will the matter of me taking Zhongli Shun back to Beaconlight Mountain be approved?”
The candlelight flickered in the sconce like droplets of fire. Dao Lord Tianshu was silent for a long moment, offering no immediate answer to her question.
“Zhongli Shun is neither kin nor disciple of yours. Why do you save him? Is it because he is exceptionally gifted in this generation, and you wish to train him as a pillar of your sect?”
Zhao Zhao chewed the noodles in her mouth, swallowing before she replied. “That question… Lord Yaoguang has asked it before. Why are the people of Kunwu so interested in this?”
Dao Lord Tianshu lowered his gaze, silent.
“Since you want to know, I will tell you.” Zhao Zhao set down her chopsticks and looked earnestly into his eyes. “To not save someone, perhaps many calculations of gains and losses are needed. But to save someone when you have the ability requires no reason at all.”
“He likes our sect, does not mind that my cultivation is insufficient for me to be his master. He has talent and can spar with my other disciples… I have no reason not to save him. Does that clarify things for you?”
No particular reason.
Her hand extended to Zhongli Shun was no different from the day she saved Xie Lanshu.
Simply put, she was soft-hearted, her kindness overflowing by nature.
It was as if an ant had crawled into a hollow in his heart, slowly gnawing at his flesh.
Within her words, Dao Lord Tianshu sensed this delicate ache silently and calmly. The people of the Zhongli Clan were born to endure pain, but this kind of suffering was unlike any physical torment.
“I understand.” He lifted his eyes, their depths black and still as a moonless night. “But you cannot take him.”
Zhao Zhao was caught completely off guard, blinking in shock. “Why? Lord Yaoguang said it would be fine!”
“The Zhongli Clan will not listen to him,” he said, his tone calm but resolute, overturning Lord Yaoguang’s promise. “The door for any Zhongli child to enter another sect cannot be opened. You may mean well, but once this precedent is set, the Zhongli Clan will repeat its past mistakes.”
Zhao Zhao sprang to her feet.
All this time, she had been secretly praising the beauty of this Kunwu disciple in her mind. She hadn’t realized…this wasn’t some cold, ethereal beauty. This was a ruthless, iron-faced, utterly unyielding person!
So that familiar feeling was this!
She turned to leave, but the voice behind her stopped her abruptly.
“But—”
“Should you assume leadership of the Zhongli Clan and choose a child to be your direct disciple and future elder, it would not count as their departure. Instead, the Zhongli Clan itself would become part of Beaconlight Mountain.”
Zhao Zhao froze, unable to believe her ears.
The Zhongli Clan… become part of Beaconlight Mountain?
Surely she had misheard.
Her first reaction was blunt: “Dao Lord Tianshu would never agree. Didn’t Kunwu and Lord Yaoguang tell you who I am?”
According to Lord Yaoguang, Dao Lord Tianshu was neither in closed-door cultivation nor had he returned to Kunwu—his whereabouts were unknown.
Zhao Zhao did not know the reason, but the future she had seen in her premonitory dreams was vivid in her mind. She was certain he was not dead.
The cold, dark-eyed Kunwu disciple fixed her gaze steadily.
“I know who you are.”
“Then if you know, how could you say something like that?” Zhao Zhao asked, baffled. “He would only want to lay waste to my cultivation and send me back to the mortal realm. How could he possibly agree to merge the Zhongli Clan into Beaconlight Mountain?”
Surely this Kunwu disciple was acting on her own initiative.
At the mention of “lay waste to my cultivation,” Dao Lord Tianshu’s lashes trembled slightly, recalling what he had first said to her when they met at Separation’s Regret Heaven.
There was no denying it—at that time, forbidding her from cultivating was entirely his own decision; no one had forced him.
In the span of a thousand years, three years was but a fleeting moment. The instant his memories returned, countless long-buried recollections flooded over those of Xie Lanshu.
Dao Lord Tianshu’s life had been for the sword, for Immortal Realm of Kunwu. He had been utterly devoted to the perfection of swordsmanship; aside from ascension, he had no other thought.
He had never imagined companionship, never considered living a worldly life with anyone.
As a descendant of the Zhongli Clan and the Dao Lord of the cultivation world, his creed across a millennium was simple: eradicate any distractions that might obstruct his path.
His feelings, his thoughts, mattered not at all.
Across the long stretch of millennia, he had used this creed as the guiding principle for every action he took.
—Until his Single Intent Sword spiraled out of control, and the emotions he had deliberately stripped away came roaring back like a vengeful tide, consuming him whole.
The creed he had followed for a thousand years was utterly shattered.
He tried every method that had once worked, only to discover that unless he faced the desires buried deep within his own heart, he could not even take a single step forward.
“…What if he agreed?”
He had plenty of excuses ready to deflect.
For example, the Zhongli Clan must sever all ties with Dao Lord Tianshu, losing this dependency would allow them to cut away their decayed roots and rise anew.
Or, those children led by Zhongli Shun, loyal and devoted to her, were unlike the scheming elders who treated children as mere coin trees; she was the only one willing to take them in without expecting anything in return.
Yet in the end, none of these noble-sounding reasons left his lips.
Fingers hidden in his sleeve paled slightly as he lifted his hand, revealing the Donghua Pearl in his palm. It was as if he were laying bare not just a heirloom, but the twisted, unspoken truth of his own heart as well.
“This Donghua Pearl…recognizes you as its new master.”
Zhao Zhao stared in astonishment at the Donghua Pearl that should long ago have been given to Shi Lanyan.
In his palm, the pearl glowed with a quiet, moonlike radiance, its cold, ethereal light flowing silently, swirling with spiritual energy, flickering as if breathing.
The last time she had seen the Donghua Pearl, it had not looked like this.
“Why…would it recognize me as its new master?”
The shifting light danced in her eyes, yet she could not comprehend it.
Shi Lanyan had once said that the Donghua Pearl was a treasured heirloom of the wives of the Zhongli Clan’s successive heads—equivalent to a family seal.
Something of such importance… How could it acknowledge her as its master when she had done nothing at all?
In the quiet of the night, a female cultivator's muffled voice drifted to her ears:
“Indeed…I too wish to learn why.”
…
In the end, Zhao Zhao accepted the Donghua Pearl.
The Kunwu disciple had explained that once the pearl recognized a new master, it would remain hers until death; whether she accepted it or not made no difference.
The only merit was clear: with the Donghua Pearl in her possession, she could rightfully take Zhongli Shun with her, and no one could stop her.
…
In the hot springs of Beaconlight Mountain, Zhao Zhao soaked in the warm waters, her long hair tied up, still puzzling over the Donghua Pearl that swirled with spiritual energy in her possession.
Before departing, she had taken the pearl to see Lord Yaoguang, letting him know she intended to take Zhongli Shun with her.
Upon seeing the Donghua Pearl, Lord Yaoguang was first surprised, then a playful glint appeared in his eyes. “…It is said that when the previous masters of the Donghua Pearl die, if they have not ascended, their souls remain within it. Perhaps…the souls within the Donghua Pearl have recognized you?”
Seeing Zhao Zhao’s doubtful expression, he flicked his folded fan and smiled, “Or it could simply be that the head of the Zhongli Clan feels so deeply for you that even the Donghua Pearl couldn’t help but acknowledge you as well.”
Zhao Zhao: “…”
Comparing the two possibilities, she felt the former was far more likely.
Lost in thought, footsteps came from the edge of the hot spring.
“Who’s there?” Alert, Zhao Zhao turned sharply.
The hot spring lay behind her chamber, protected by a set of barriers. Only Yao Ling and Rong Yu could enter freely, but at this hour, the two children should have been asleep.
The figures stepped from the shadow of the trees.
“Master, it’s us—Yao Ling and A'Yu.” Yao Ling looked drowsy and yawned as she spoke.
Seeing them, Zhao Zhao’s tension eased slightly. “Why are you both still awake?”
Yao Ling rubbed her eyes. “A'Yu said he wanted to wait for you, Master, so we could sleep together…”
Zhao Zhao had been absent from Beaconlight Mountain for some days. Considering Rong Yu’s spoiled nature, such behavior was entirely in character.
She drew her robe toward her with spiritual energy and dressed behind a rockery. Just as she was about to step out of the water, a blade’s flash swept across—
Squelch!
Completely unprepared, Zhao Zhao only heard the sharp sound of a blade piercing flesh.
In her vision was Rong Yu, his eyes wide and unfocused, and the dagger in his hand, buried in her shoulder.
