My Husband’s Ascension C40
Chapter 40 Confession
After a night of relentless battle, it was only as dawn approached that the tide at Beaconlight Mountain finally came under control.
Rong Yu and Yao Ling had remained on Moonlit Peak, Daoist Ming Jue’s residence, safe from the chaos that had swept through the night, along with the youngest disciples of Cloudculm Abode.
“Sect Master!!”
A cluster of small children rushed forward, tears welling in their eyes.
Zhao Zhao, her spiritual energy long spent, was knocked to the ground beneath the weight of their embrace.
“You’re all frightened, aren’t you? It’s all right, it’s over now…”
The youngest disciples were barely five, scarcely comprehending what had occurred beyond the peak.
Zhao Zhao lifted her head and looked toward Yao Ling and Rong Yu standing behind them.
The two children remained at a short distance, not rushing forward for comfort as the others had.
“Are either of you hurt?” she asked
Yao Ling shook her head, lifting her chin proudly. “I stayed outside Moonlit Peak the whole time. A few strange looking things tried to break in, but I cut them down!”
Zhao Zhao beckoned her closer. Yao Ling’s face still bore streaks of dried blood, which Zhao Zhao carefully wiped away with her fingertip. “And you, A’Yu?”
Rong Yu stood apart from the others, his large eyes like dark grapes, vacant as they stared at his own toes. His fingers, clasped behind his back, fidgeted and twisted until the tips were flushed red. “Master… how is it outside?”
Zhao Zhao, observing him, could already guess what was weighing on his mind.
“The evil demonic intruders in the mountains have mostly been cleared. Many disciples were injured and require treatment. I have come to ask your grandmaster to bring along medicinal pills and herbs so we can heal them together.”
Hearing that help was needed outside, the children all raised their hands eagerly, wishing to lend their aid.
Rong Yu’s expression was clouded, his misty eyes reflecting a trace of fear and hesitation. “I…”
It was because of him.
All of this had begun on his account. The demons causing havoc in the Cultivation Realm had come seeking him.
Had he not fled the Demon Realm…would so many lives not have been lost, so many others spared their wounds?
“Come along,” Zhao Zhao said gently, “there is a way even Xiao Rong can help.”
Rong Yu lifted his head and saw his master extending a hand, pale and lustrous as jade.
Tears welling in his eyes, he ran into her embrace.
Under Daoist Ming Jue’s command, the disciples within Beaconlight Mountain were organized according to the severity of their injuries: the lightly wounded waited for treatment, the seriously injured received immediate care, while the unscathed assisted with the aftermath and tended to the bodies of those who had fallen.
Zhongli Shun meticulously recorded every detail:
Thirty-seven lightly wounded, ten heavily injured, three disciples killed in battle.
Closing his ledger, he noticed Rong Yu crouched beside the three fallen disciples, staring vacantly.
“Senior Brother…do you hate that Successor who escaped from the Demon Realm?” Rong Yu lifted his head, his dark eyes distant and solemn. “It’s because of him that your clan suffered injuries and deaths.”
Zhongli Shun knelt beside the three, gently closing their eyes.
“Sword cultivators of the Zhongli Clan learn from childhood that the strong survive and the weak perish. To choose the path of cultivation is to accept such a reality.”
“The demons’ ambitions have never ceased for ten thousand years, always coveting the Cultivation Realm. The Successor’s disappearance brought turmoil in the short term, but in the long view, it incited strife within the Demon Realm, weakening them and ultimately benefiting our Realm.” Zhongli Shun raised his head. Though he did not fully understand why Rong Yu asked, he answered truthfully, “So, even if one seeks vengeance, it is against the demon generals who provoked the war. What has the Demon Successor to do with me?”
Rong Yu kept his head bowed, saying nothing. He simply hugged the pills replenishing his spiritual energy and ran lightly to distribute them to the other injured.
…
By the time the sky had brightened, Mo Heng and Yin Shanji, who had gone to aid the border, finally returned.
The moment Yin Shanji landed, exhausted from a night of relentless travel, he announced, “…The formation at the border at Jimo Sea…was breached…”
The disciples who had been tidying the aftermath all lifted their heads at his words. Fatigue in their eyes deepened with a new layer of alarm.
Thankfully, after steadying his breath, Yin Shanji added, “But… Dao Lord Tianshu has arrived.”
The declaration struck like a stabilizing pillar amid a storm-tossed sea, and the surging waves of fear that had threatened to overwhelm them settled without a sound.
Dao Lord Tianshu had arrived.
Every heart present eased.
Ever since Dao Lord Tianshu was hailed as the overlord of the Cultivation Realm, bearing the title of Dao Lord, wherever he went, demons, yaos, and malevolent spirits cowered in fear.
With his advent, the breach at the Jimo Sea border was no longer cause for panic. Even if the Demon Realm now declared a full-scale assault on the Cultivation Realm, it would hardly matter.
At the height of their power, the demons had never truly set foot in Jimo Sea.
And now, in their desperate scramble to recover the Successor, the demon factions had long since fractured, their strength diminished, no longer a threat to fear.
“…Dao Lord Tianshu is currently leading Kunwu disciples in Jimo Sea City to suppress the remaining demons. The other six great sects have also received word and will send disciples to reinforce the city.” After speaking, Mo Heng himself exhaled quietly, a trace of relief softening his composed demeanor.
Gui Fangliu, who had just reforged the protective mountain formation for Cloudculm Abode, let out a long sigh, “That’s a relief.”
“They’ve summoned disciples from the six great sects… which means Dao Lord Tianshu will grant audience to the various sect disciples stationed in Jimo Sea City, won’t he?”
Mo Lingyun, struck by an arrow from a demon general, was having his wounds tended. As an outer sect disciple inadvertently caught in the conflict, Zhao Zhao personally attended to him, a mark of respect.
Mo Lingyun remarked casually, though a hint of awe lingered in his voice, “I’ve never had the chance to meet this Dao Lord. If only I could go to the front lines with him to exorcise demons… I’d like to witness the might of the Single Intent Sword myself–Argh! Ow, ow!”
The pain in his arm flared, sharp enough to make him almost curse.
Glancing up, his eyes met a face as serene and graceful as a distant mountain range shrouded in mist.
“Apologies. My spiritual energy was drained last night, so I cannot heal you directly. You must bear with it for a little while,” Zhao Zhao said gently.
Mo Lingyun’s rising anger evaporated in an instant. “…Of course! Miss Immortal Tanzhao slew the demon general and saved my life, and now you’re even tending to my wounds… I’m truly ashamed to trouble you so much…”
The usually brash youth suddenly appeared shy and flustered, like a bashful maiden, drawing quiet laughter from several boys who knew him well.
Lowering his gaze, Mo Lingyun stared at the hand tying the bandage on his arm. He could not help recalling how, the previous night, that very same hand had flicked the demon general’s arrow back through the air with effortless grace, killing the foe in one clean stroke.
His heart thudded wildly.
“Miss Immortal Tanzhao—”
“There are still other wounded waiting. I must be on my way. What is it you wished to say?” Zhao Zhao asked.
Mo Lingyun froze. “I uh…When it’s time to change the dressing… could I ask you to do it?”
Zhao Zhao nodded. “Certainly. The dressing must be changed once each night before sleep; just come to me when the time comes.”
After all, he was a distinguished guest invited by the sect. If he was injured, it was her responsibility to see to his care.
With that matter settled, Zhao Zhao returned to the other disciples, overseeing the remaining cleanup and recovery work.
By afternoon, Beaconlight Mountain had finally returned to its usual order.
At the same time, a flood of news arrived from Jimo Sea City.
Many city structures had been damaged, and the city’s clans were called upon to provide both labor and funds for repairs.
Three disciples of the Zhongli Clan had perished, and arrangements for their posthumous support were properly handled.
The seven great sects were set to convene here soon, and each of Jimo Sea’s prominent clans was asked to nominate a representative for the upcoming conference.
The Tushan Clan and Cloudculm Abode were both high on the nomination lists. Yet Tushan Long took the initiative to meet with Zhao Zhao, suggesting that Cloudculm Abode was better suited to represent the city.
Zhao Zhao clearly had not anticipated this.
Tushan Long sat in the chair to her left, idly twirling her snow-arctic fox tail. “Two years ago, my cousin and I were vying for control in Verdant Highlands. He killed hundreds of my followers and even offered a high price for the pills of Cloudculm Abode, hoping to cut off my path to survival. Why didn’t you sell them to him?”
Had she not mentioned it, Zhao Zhao might have forgotten the incident entirely.
She smiled faintly. “Perhaps…because the matriarch of the Tushan Clan ensnared me rather too deftly with her beauty?”
Xiao Bai, pouring tea nearby, paused mid-motion and stifled a chuckle behind his hand.
Tushan Long, naturally, did not believe this.
Though…
She glanced at the arctic fox, now freed from the influence of gu and obedient to Zhao Zhao, before lowering her eyes.
After a moment, she abruptly spoke up, “The reason I did not contest with you is that I am about to inherit the Verdant Highlands. Your conflicts with the demons concern your own kind; we, yao, have no interest in intervening, I have no desire to meddle… The gathering of the seven great sects in Jimo Sea will also see Mount Ling appear. Consider yourself warned.”
Zhao Zhao froze slightly.
Tushan Long gave a faint, mocking smile. “Surely you know that the spiritual gu from back then was entrusted to me by Mount Ling, and that I had tasked Xiao Bai with deploying it?”
Zhao Zhao, of course, knew this, and she nodded.
“…Helping me even though you knew… truly foolish of you.” Tushan Long muttered under her breath, then suddenly rose and tossed an object to Zhao Zhao. “This is a jade token of Mount Ling. Once it was lost at Cloudculm Abode, it slipped entirely from my mind. You needn’t return it. So the matter rests.”
Accompanied by a retinue of paramours, Tushan Long had entered with grandeur and left just as spectacularly, drawing every eye.
Especially Mo Lingyun and the others—seeing Tushan Long’s elegant paramours for the first time, they were nearly dumbstruck.
“…Jimo Sea truly differs from elsewhere… how can one… so many… and still have time for cultivation…”
Zhao Zhao watched Tushan Long’s departing figure, a wave of reflection stirring in her heart.
Never before had she so clearly felt how much time had passed.
So much time that the Tushan Long who had once been full of hostility toward her, to even deploy gu under Mount Ling’s orders, could now shake her hand in accord, even generously gifting her a jade token of Mount Ling.
So much time that the Zhao Zhao who seven years ago had faced near-certain death to climb Separation’s Regret Heaven of Kunwu could now, openly and honorably, represent the prominent clans of Jimo Sea in deliberations among the seven great sects of the Cultivation Realm.
At this thought, she couldn’t help but lament, when was the last time she had met Dao Lord Tianshu?
It seemed… it had been at the Blessed Land of Langhuan.
She wondered if, after emerging from closed-door cultivation, he had heard of Cloudculm Abode all the way in Jimo Sea where there was a female cultivator who shared the same name as his mortal wife.
Or perhaps, even now that she had risen to such a position, to him she remained no more than an insignificant speck of dust in the mortal world.
…
News arrived from the six grand sects: they would make landfall at Jimo Sea in four days.
Meanwhile, Kunwu, who was supposed to have returned the next morning after quelling the rebellion, for some reason kept delaying. First from morning to evening, then the next day, a message came saying the task would not conclude until that night, or the following morning.
“…That shouldn’t be. The demon general on the other side is merely someone who once ran errands for the former Demon Lord. By rank and experience, he's not even on par with a competent deputy general. A figure like that, Dao Lord Tianshu alone should be enough to handle him. How could it take this long?”
The moon shone bright, illuminating a pear blossom tree in the courtyard in full, resplendent bloom.
Mo Lingyun spoke at length about Dao Lord Tianshu and the recent battles outside. Zhao Zhao remained silent, focused entirely on unwrapping his bandages and cleansing the burn wounds inflicted by the flaming arrow.
Once the final traces of poisoned blood were removed, she could use her spiritual wood energy to heal his injuries.
The young man in the dark robe, hair neatly bound, had been speaking at length without hearing much in return. Only then did he realize that his one-sided chatter must have seemed dull.
No matter how hard he wracked his brain, Mo Lingyun could not think of a single topic he and Zhao Zhao could truly talk about. After a long pause, he finally managed to say, “The matter of Mount Ling’s human pillar…do you plan to bring it up at the seven sects’ council?”
“That day, Mount Ling will also be present. Our evidence is still insufficient. We cannot openly question them. We can only inform the other sects in private, and even then, this matter must be investigated thoroughly so that Mount Ling will have no room to refute it.”
Accusing Mount Ling was no small matter; any misstep could be turned against them.
Moreover, Mount Ling had likely already divined that the ones fated to slay Dao Lord Tianshu were within Cloudculm Abode.
Should they confront Mount Ling recklessly, Zhao Zhao feared the disclosure would be exploited against them.
“Let’s continue the investigation in secret for now.” Having said this, Zhao Zhao set down the tools used to cleanse the poisoned blood, her fingertips brushing against his injury as she prepared to perform the final healing.
Suddenly, her wrist was lightly grasped.
“If there’s anything you need…Miss Immortal, you can call on me anytime.”
The youth quickly released her wrist, his ears burning, eyes darting uncertainly, a mixture of sincerity and timidity etched on his face.
Zhao Zhao knew that look all too well.
When one harbors affection for another, it is like this: willingly surrendering all initiative, even the proudest, most flamboyant hearts grow anxious and uncertain in such moments.
On the night she had proposed to Xie Lanshu, the moonlight lingering, her heart had pounded wildly, yet she feigned composure. When he gave an affirmative reply, she had almost been deluded into believing herself the most favored of mortals under heaven.
But now—
She no longer offered her heart blindly, unthinking of the outcome.
Zhao Zhao paused for a moment, then smiled at Mo Lingyun, “Very well. I hope, when the time comes, Sir Immortal will grant us a small courtesy, perhaps a slight discount in light of our acquaintance.”
The spark of joy in his chest was instantly extinguished. Mo Lingyun hurriedly explained, “I’m not asking for your money; my only intent is to aid you—”
Before his words had finished, a sound reached them.
Drip, drip—
Beneath the pear blossom tree stood a silver-haired youth, his white garments soaked in blood. The blood on his face had yet to dry, falling in crimson droplets like tears of blood along his jawline.
“Who’s there?!”
Sensing the newcomer’s arrival had been utterly silent—so silent that, if not for the blood dripping onto the soil, neither of them would have noticed a third presence. Mo Lingyun rose at once, placing himself protectively before Zhao Zhao.
The man did not respond.
His gaze instead fell upon the wrist Mo Lingyun had grasped.
That young man had held her so tightly, so naturally.
As though pricked by something sharp, the gentle curve of his eyes tightened for the briefest instant.
