My Husband’s Ascension C32 (Part 1)
Chapter 32.1 Hidden Force
The suspended moon hung high, casting its pale glow over the Mount Jade (玉山) Mountains of the Eastern Region, the range lying silent beneath its light.
Beyond Mount Jade lay the weak waters of Salt Spring (盐泉), an expanse too treacherous even for birds to cross. On its banks rose Mount Ling, where the sun ascends and the moon returns.
All knew that the wu-shamans dwelling on Mount Ling could commune with the divine, acting as earthly proxies for the gods.
At this moment, atop Mount Ling, jade xun and paixiao flutes played in harmony, accompanied by solemn chimes and drums.
“…There is someone in the world below whom I wish to help. Their dark and bright souls have abandoned their body(s) and scattered. Find them with divining slips and bring them back*.…”
(TLN: This is a verse from "Summons of the Soul", one of the poems anthologized in the ancient Chinese poetry collection, the Chu Ci. The "Summons of the Soul" consists of a four-part poem. This is from the second part, a prolog in the form of a conversation in heaven, in which God (帝) orders Wu-Shaman Yang (巫陽) to go down below to earth and help out in the case of someone whose soul has wandered off. Source: https://ia902801.us.archive.org/33/items/sukhu-2017-the-songs-of-chu/Sukhu%202017%20The%20Songs%20of%20Chu.pdf)
Two black-robed wu-shamans quietly attuned their senses to the spiritual gu amid the music. This was one of the highest and most secret arts of Mount Ling sorcery, known as the Soul-Severing Gu (离魂蛊).
This Soul-Severing Gu was no mere parasite that controlled its host like a puppet. It could sever the soul of the afflicted and allow the controller to perceive the world through their eyes, ears, mouth, and nose.
Yet the backlash of misusing it was formidable. Should the gu be intercepted, the controller would have their soul obliterated instantly.
Were it not for esteemed Wu-Shaman Xian’s repeated divinations, confirming that the man and woman duo destined to slay Dao Lord Tianshu had appeared in Jimo Sea, they would not have dared release the Soul-Severing Gu.
Below the sacrificial altar, esteemed Wu-Shaman Xian leaned on the railing, showing signs of fatigue after consulting the heavens twice in rapid succession.
Beside her, the veiled Wu-Shaman fixed her gaze on the two figures atop the altar, her delicate brows furrowed. “…Esteemed Wu-Shaman Xian, it seems there’s a slight issue with the gu.”
The two gu sent out had been intended for the two disciples of Xie Tanzhao.
One was meant to kill Xie Tanzhao, the other to slay her yao familar.
These two should be the fated ones destined to take Dao Lord Tianshu’s life, for otherwise, how could the divinations point to Jimo Sea after they left Small Sword Pass?
Yet the current situation was not unfolding as expected; only one of the two gu meant to control them had taken effect.
Wu-Shaman Xian of Mount Ling studied the reflection on the sacrificial altar.
Rong Yu rose slowly from his bed, while the girl beside him, who had likewise been implanted with a spiritual gu remained entirely unscathed. Rubbing her sleepy eyes, she drowsily asked where he was going.
The veiled Wu-Shaman speculated, “Did that fox of Tushan err in its strike?”
It wasn’t entirely impossible. After all, the gu hadn’t been planted by the Mount Ling wu-shamans themselves; perhaps the Tushan Clan failed to grasp its use, and one was accidentally left dormant.
Still, it mattered not. Even if only Xie Tanzhao could be eliminated, the objective would be partially achieved.
The altar’s reflected image shifted to the hot springs of Beaconlight Mountain.
It was not until Yao Ling’s shrill scream shattered the daze that Zhao Zhao belatedly realized: Rong Yu had driven a blade into her.
Blood splattered, staining the soft, fair cheek of the little boy.
As if scalded by the warmth, his scattered pupils cleared for a fleeting moment. He stared at the hand gripping the blade, then at Zhao Zhao’s face, pale with pain.
Divine Farmer Dao practitioners could command life and death alike, capable of reviving corpses and restoring flesh, yet their one vulnerability was that they could not heal themselves.
“…Mas…ter…?” Bean-sized tears welled from Rong Yu’s eyes.
The boy, who normally called her “Master” in soft, gentle tones, now stared wide-eyed, full of terror and self-reproach.
Zhao Zhao forced a smile through the excruciating agony, cupping Rong Yu’s face and repeating, “Don’t be afraid, A’Yu. Master is alright. Master knows you didn’t mean it…”
However, Rong Yu could not be comforted. His gaze fixed on her wound, the blood still flowing. Though he had grown up around corpses and blood, a fear long forgotten surged within him.
Had he just hurt his own Master?
Why? Why oh why would he do such a thing?
Was it because of the bloodline within him?
Was it the Demon Clan’s blood coursing through his veins, wild and unrestrained, that led him into a frenzy?
Rong Yu, unaware of the cause, tried to wriggle free from Zhao Zhao’s embrace, afraid he might hurt her again.
Zhao Zhao dared not let go. There had to be a reason for Rong Yu’s madness, either born of his demonic lineage, or he was in the control of some hidden force.
…Control?
A bolt of realization struck her mind like thunder.
Mount Ling!
Zhao Zhao’s face drained of all color in an instant.
Could it be that Mount Ling had already discovered the true identities of Yao Ling and Rong Yu?
No… that couldn’t be it. If that were the case, they would have used the spiritual gu to control her to kill these two children.
Which meant… their target was her.
Mount Ling wanted to kill her for only one reason: they had mistaken her for the one fated to slay the Dao Lord Tianshu.
Realizing this, the panic that had gripped Zhao Zhao slowly subsided, at least partially, this was a small mercy amidst the misfortune.
But the danger was closing in fast. Should she perish, and Mount Ling’s augury reveal that Dao Lord Tianshu’s death fate still stood, it would not take long for them to suspect the two overlooked children.
So—
She absolutely could not be harmed.
Far away, at the Mount Ling altar in the Eastern Region, the ancient and arcane chanting continued relentlessly.
The little boy struggling in Zhao Zhao’s arms suddenly froze, then raised his hand to grasp the dagger lodged in her shoulder. With a violent jerk, he pulled it out, aiming again for her chest—
“What are you doing, Rong Yu?!”
Steel met steel with a ringing note, sending Rong Yu’s dagger spinning away.
Yao Ling leapt forward, stepping across the rockery beside the hot spring, before pressing down atop Rong Yu, restraining him as if in their usual roughhousing. “Stop moving! If you dare grab the dagger to stab Master again, I swear I’ll cut off your hand–OUCH!! Master, he’s biting me!!”
Though Yao Ling had sensed that Rong Yu seemed to be under someone else’s control, her wariness fell short of true caution.
Thinking safety assured after the dagger flew from his hand, she was caught off guard when Rong Yu twisted beneath her and sank his teeth into her arm.
That was no teasing bite; Yao Ling’s arm flushed with darkened bruises in an instant, blood beading along her skin.
The pain brought to her eyes tears that streamed uncontrollably.
He bit her!
He actually bit her!!
“Yao Ling, get away!” Zhao Zhao watched as Rong Yu, finding an opening, overturned Yao Ling and lunged for the dagger. Though her wounds bled freely, she forced her strength together, commanding the vines to drag Yao Ling behind her and bind Rong Yu tight.
But the tighter the vines coiled, the more violently Rong Yu thrashed. The rough cords shredded his skin as he struggled, raising red welts and fresh cuts.
Yao Ling watched in horror as a blunt spur of vine sliced his flesh. Her anger at being bitten melted into helpless fear; she stepped forward despite herself.
“Master…” Her small fingers clutched Zhao Zhao’s sleeve. “What’s wrong with him? Doesn’t he feel pain? If he keeps struggling, won’t his hands be torn off…”
Zhao Zhao’s hand that controlled the vines froze.
Loosen them a little and Rong Yu might break free to kill; tighten them and this ensnared and ignorant child would only hurt himself trying to obey whatever hand pulled his strings.
“Yao Ling, knock him out with a rock.”
At that command, Yao Ling’s eyes flashed. She turned, understanding in an instant, and moved to obey.
Will everything be okay once he’s struck unconscious?
Yao Ling didn’t hesitate. She darted across the ground, grabbed a fist-sized stone, and hurled it at Rong Yu with all her strength—
Bang!
The stone struck squarely against his forehead. For a heartbeat, Zhao Zhao feared it might kill him outright.
Under their watchful eyes, the frenzied, struggling Rong Yu slumped, seemingly unconscious.
Yao Ling exhaled in relief. “Finally… he’s calm. If knocking him out hadn’t worked, that would’ve been—”
Before she could finish, the figure bound by vines suddenly blinked awake again.
From the distant observing platform, the Mount Ling wu-shamans chuckled softly.
If a simple knock on the head could break the Soul-Severing Gu, they would have greatly underestimated the power of Mount Ling.
“Master! He’s awake again!” Yao Ling’s scalp tingled in terror as panic overtook her. “What do we do? What do we do now? If he keeps struggling, his arms will be torn off!”
Yao Ling was right; those people of Mount Ling never saw Rong Yu as human. They wouldn’t care whether he lived or died. Even if he became a corpse, they could compel him to move.
After a long moment of hesitation, Zhao Zhao gritted her teeth and released Rong Yu. She immediately grabbed Yao Ling’s hand and said, “Run!”
The priority now was to find Li Feng and Daoist Ming Jue!
…
Elsewhere, Li Feng, having already learned that Yao Ling and Rong Yu had been afflicted with gu, was racing toward Daoist Ming Jue’s quarters.
Gliding upon the wind, he kept muttering profanities at the arctic fox following in his wake. “You’ve got some nerve, you damned wild fox! After planting the gu, you still dared to come tell me? Aren’t you afraid I’ll just kill you on the spot!?”
Under his murderous glare, Xiao Bai couldn’t help but shrink back a little, genuine fear flickering in his eyes. “...If I didn’t plant the gu, I’d be dead. If I did, I’d still be dead. No matter what, I was already walking a road to ruin…so why should I be afraid of you, you mangy dog?”
“Since you’re going to die either way, couldn’t you just keep your head down and die quietly instead of stirring up trouble?”
Xiao Bai hunched his shoulders and covered half his face with one hand, muttering softly, “Bodhisattvas can but I’m no Bodhisattva…”
Li Feng didn’t bother arguing. He could tell Xiao Bai was nothing more than a fair-weather ally, trying to secure his own survival. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have dashed over immediately after planting the gu to warn him that Mount Ling and Tushan Clan had made a deal to kill them.
Time was tight, and Li Feng had no patience for this fence sitter.
The pain in his shoulder reminded him that Xie Tanzhao had been injured. Fortunately, it was on the shoulder and wasn’t fatal.
No new injuries had appeared in all this time, which meant she must have found her own means of endurance.
Xie Tanzhao was clever and resourceful; she wasn’t weak in actual combat. The real problem wasn’t fighting two gu-possessed disciples, it was removing the gu.
“Old man! Old man! Hurry up! If you don’t come out, your place is going to be blown up!”
Daoist Ming Jue, deep in sleep, didn’t even have time to open his eyes before Li Feng grabbed him and headed straight for the location he had sensed.
More info:
The xun (埙) is a globular, vessel flute from China. It is one of the oldest musical instruments in China and has been in use for approximately 7,000 years. The xun was initially made of stone, baked clay, or bone, and later of clay or ceramic; sometimes the instrument is made with bamboo.
The paixiao (排箫) is a Chinese wind instrument, a form of pan flute. A major difference between the Chinese Paixiao and the panpipes used in European and South American traditions, is that at the top of the Chinese instrument the pipe holes are each cut angled or with notches. This allows the Chinese paixiao to be fully chromatic without loss in timbre.
