My Husband’s Ascension C51
Chapter 51 Shared Repose
Moonlit Peak.
The inner chamber was thick with the scent of herbs. The doors were tightly closed, shutting out prying eyes from outside.
Li Feng and the others, who had pursued Dao Lord Tianshu this far, were stopped by Daoist Ming Jue at the door. Amid the faint echoes of commotion, Yao Ling at the bedside wiped her tears with her sleeve, casting one last glance at Zhao Zhao before turning and stepping toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Dao Lord Tianshu’s voice called out.
Yao Ling shot him an irritated glance, her mind flashing back to the moment he had seized her, wordless yet radiating killing intent.
Though Shi Lanyan’s words later made her understand that he had meant to save Master, Yao Ling still felt anger simmering.
And now she understood how futile his actions were!
If he really wanted to save her, he should be willing to trade his own life!
The spiritual sword at her waist sensed its owner’s emotions, trembling as if it would leap from its scabbard the next moment to sever his neck.
Yet, in the end, she seemed to decide on something and cast a glance at Daoist Ming Jue.
The usually cheerful old man did not smile at her this time; instead, his eyes held a trace of worry.
“…Those people outside are too noisy. Master doesn’t like all the shouting and clamoring in the sect. I’ll go make them quiet down.”
The little girl, barely reaching an adult’s waist, put on a stance as though she could hold up the heavens themselves with wide eyes, pretending that the one who had just been crying at Zhao Zhao’s bedside, shouting “Give back my Master,” was not her at all.
She was no longer the child she once was, who did not yet understand what death meant.
Death surged onward like an unceasing river, not something a child like her could ever reverse.
But there were still things she could do: things her Master had once taught her, and hoped she would be able to accomplish.
The silver-haired Dao Lord seated to the side spoke in a calm voice, “What’s happening outside is not something you can resolve. Staying here is safer.”
Yao Ling retorted, “Safer? You were just about to kill me.”
He lifted his gaze. Those glass-like eyes, cold and crystalline, were beautiful beyond anything mortal yet so cold they held not the slightest trace of human warmth.
“If killing you could save her,” he said evenly, “I would still do it.”
“……”
Madman!
Yao Ling glared at him, fury flaring in her eyes. What was so remarkable about a Dao Lord of the Cultivation Realm? Her Master had always said that once she grew up, she would surpass even such figures. When that day came, it would be uncertain who would claim victory.
She slammed the door behind her and stormed out.
For a brief moment, the clamor outside pierced through, only to be restrained again almost immediately. From the sounds, the disciples of the seven sects stationed at the Demon Realm border had already returned and were recounting the events of the battlefield.
They had likely brought back Lord Tianxuan’s body as well, for otherwise, the tumult outside would not be so great.
But all of that no longer concerned Dao Lord Tianshu.
He cast a calm glance at Daoist Ming Jue and said, “Please save her. Whatever is needed: heavenly treasures, the cultivation or golden cores* of others—so long as it can bring her back, I will find a way to obtain it.”
(TLN: Golden Core is meant to be the accumulation of all the energy you have gathered in your body over the previous one/two/three stages of cultivation, and gives you a large boost to your abilities.)
Daoist Ming Jue’s eyelids twitched.
The first might still be conceivable, but the latter… golden cores? Where was he to procure such things?
“The dead cannot be revived. Dao Lord, please restrain your grief.”
“Lies.” Dao Lord Tianshu’s voice remained even, yet the edge in his gaze was piercing, as though he could strip flesh and read the thoughts beneath. Every hidden notion, every whispered hesitation, lay bare before him. “With her level of cultivation, under normal circumstances there was no way she could have slain the Demon General Li Ying, even if she fought with her life on the line. She must have relied on some external means.”
Daoist Ming Jue lowered his gaze, his expression composed and impenetrable, as though no blade or spear could breach it. “These brittle bones were far removed from the battlefield. How would I know what truly transpired then?”
“If there were truly not the slightest chance left for her, why would you react as you have?” Dao Lord Tianshu pressed on. “You refuse to speak because you wish to make me retreat of my own accord, to make me believe she is dead, so that I will never trouble her again. Is that not so?”
“These brittle bones do not understand what you are saying.”
“Daoist Ming Jue—”
In the span of a breath, Dao Lord Tianshu’s fingers were already resting against Daoist Ming Jue’s throat.
His knuckles tightened inch by inch, fingertips pressing precisely along the channels where the other’s qi once flowed. In his eyes, deep and turbid emotions surged like a dark tide. “Then how do you explain the fact that your cultivation has been entirely exhausted, that you are now no different from a mortal?”
Daoist Ming Jue, who until now had remained unmoved, finally let out a faint sigh upon hearing those words. “Dao Lord, such obstinate fixation will only bring harm to others and to yourself, ripening into bitter consequences.”
The low table was overturned in a crash. Teacups and vases shattered across the floor. Dao Lord Tianshu withdrew his hand and seated himself once more, as though nothing at all had occurred; his posture refined, his bearing flawless.
Yet he was drenched in blood, his robes torn and disordered, his silver-thread-like hair tangled and unkempt. Against such ruin, that composed elegance took on the air of a chilling, lucid madness. “No matter how bitter, I will bear it alone.”
Daoist Ming Jue shook his head, then finally drew from his sleeve a small wooden box.
It was identical to the one he had given Zhao Zhao on that day.
“This is called the Undying Wood,” he explained. “It is a treasure of the immortals, usable only by wood-element cultivators.”
Dao Lord Tianshu had never heard of it, yet even the name alone was enough to let a sliver of light pierce the deathly stillness in his eyes.
Undying Wood…
“Do not mistake this for some artifact that can simply restore life,” Daoist Ming Jue continued. “The cycles of heaven and earth are immutable. No one may overturn life and death at will. Zhao Zhao’s thread of hope remains because, as a human, she is already dead—but as wood, she still lives.”
Dao Lord Tianshu’s brow furrowed. “She cannot live as wood. I will have her truly live again, as a person.”
As a practitioner of the Divine Farmer Dao, Daoist Ming Jue had seen countless bereaved relatives of injured disciples make impertinent demands, but few with the force and clarity of Tianshu.
“It is possible.”
At that, Dao Lord Tianshu felt the stiffness in his body ease slightly—but Ming Jue added, “You will need a place suffused with wood qi, and three to four hundred years of patience.”
The words froze his breath. Dao Lord Tianshu’s eyes sharpened into a slow, biting cold. “You are deceiving me.”
“Why would I deceive you?”
Daoist Ming Jue smiled faintly. “Three or four hundred years hence, when she awakens, it will not hinder her cultivation. In fact, she may even progress more swiftly than she ever could as a human. But she must be carefully tended. None who do not understand must cut her branches or damage her roots. She will not feel pain, but if she awakens missing a limb, it will not do.”
Dao Lord Tianshu rose abruptly. After millennia spent cultivating both Dao and heart, moments where emotion so nakedly breached his composure had become exceedingly rare. “…Why? Why would you give her something like this?”
Daoist Ming Jue’s gaze drifted to the window.
Outside, the clamor had subsided somewhat. The disciples of Kunwu were preparing Tianxuan Jun’s body for burial, while the other disciples of the seven sects murmured among themselves.
The usually hot-tempered Yao Ling had, for once, shown a measure of composure. She stood before the other disciples of Cloudculm Abode. Her small frame might have been swallowed by the crowd, yet she held her head high, her expression bearing a faint spark reminiscent of Zhao Zhao.
It reminded Daoist Ming Jue of the days long past, when a mortal girl, unversed in cultivation, dared to step into Cloudculm Abode and, with all her heart, sought to protect these two children.
“Because these brittle bones are well aware of the nature of my disciple,” he lamented with a soft sigh. “She is always thinking of protecting others, always blaming herself for what she could not do. Even when faced with danger beyond her strength, she will act without regard for her own safety to save others—even though she herself ought to have been the one protected.”
“If I had not given her the Undying Wood, she would still have made reckless choices, but with it, at least a thread of life remains.” The elderly’s voice flowed calmly through the room. He lifted his gaze to Dao Lord Tianshu and let out a quiet chuckle. “Truth be told…these brittle bones once clung to a small hope.”
“These brittle bones have lived for thousands of years,” Daoist Ming Jue said softly, “and I have witnessed the folly of countless enamored men and grieving women across the realm. Seven years ago, I already knew that your feelings for her were genuine. When Lord Tianxuan sent men to intercept Zhao Zhao, you should have gone to save her.”
“Even if you had not, what of the others?”
Daoist Ming Jue recalled the moment Tanzhao and the Demon General Li Ying perished together.
Consuming the Undying Wood did not grant her a sudden surge in cultivation. The power and spiritual energy she displayed at that time came from the secret spell link Ming Jue had established when he entrusted the Undying Wood to her.
Through it, he continuously funneled his own cultivation and spiritual force into her. In that process, even if one more person aided her in battle, she would not exhaust herself completely.
“Alas… not even my most intricate calculations could have foreseen that she would truly go alone.”
Truly a…foolish girl…
…
As Dao Lord Tianshu stepped out of Moonlit Peak, the blood-red sun sank between the jagged peaks, casting the heavens in a boundless crimson.
He stood in silence for a moment, then the sound of footsteps reached him.
Turning, he saw the young boy Xie Tanzhao had struggled to protect with her life.
The Single Intent Sword shot forward, slicing through the air. Yet Rong Yu did not flinch in the slightest, nor did he show any trace of fear.
Dao Lord Tianshu could have cleaved the boy, who, indirectly responsible for Zhao Zhao’s death, with a single stroke, but the sword’s tip stopped just an inch from him, unable to advance another step.
“You won’t kill me.” Rong Yu lifted his dark, grape-like eyes and looked straight at him. “Master paid such a terrible price just to save me. You won’t kill me.”
The blood-red sunset fell into his pupils, reflecting a strange, crimson gleam.
“They wouldn’t have let you come looking for me. Did you run out on your own?” Dao Lord Tianshu’s face was utterly expressionless, his voice cold enough to chill the bone. “What do you want?”
Li Feng had indeed strictly forbidden Rong Yu from approaching Moonlit Peak. He truly believed Dao Lord Tianshu had lost his reason; even allowing Daoist Ming Jue to speak with him alone had seemed like courting death.
Had Daoist Ming Jue not sent word that he was still alive, Li Feng would already have begun arranging his funeral rites.
“Can you save Master?” Rong Yu showed no fear of the blade before him. He stepped closer instead and asked, “What must be done to save her?”
Dao Lord Tianshu looked at the boy before him. This was no ordinary child, but the Successor of the Demon Realm.
He told him what Daoist Ming Jue had said.
Rong Yu pressed his lips together, silent for a long moment. “Then take me back to the Demon Realm.”
Dao Lord Tianshu stared at him, scarcely believing what he had heard. “She died to keep you from being taken back to the Demon Realm, and now you say you wish to return. You are truly courting death.”
“I will not be going alone,” Rong Yu suddenly lifted his head; his youthful face bore a determination far beyond his years. “If you use me, you can command the entire Demon Realm. The people of the Cultivation Realm don’t care whether Master lives or dies, then I will.”
For the first time, Dao Lord Tianshu studied the boy quietly, as though meeting him anew. He could scarcely reconcile this resolute child with the spoiled little boy who clung to Zhao Zhao every day.
“Why should I go to such lengths?” His gaze, cold and distant, rested on the indigo sweep of distant mountains as he spoke slowly, “Your Grandmaster has already decided to bury her where your sect’s wood energy is most concentrated. You need only cultivate diligently and live to the day your Master is revived.”
Rong Yu’s fine brows furrowed, doubt lingering in his eyes. “Just like that… you’ll really return Master back to us?”
Hadn’t he been a force of absolute terror at the Demon Realm border, ensuring that anyone who touched her would die?
Dao Lord Tianshu’s lips curved in the faintest of smiles. “Ah, of course.”
Only, on the day of her burial, he planned to join her beneath the earth, entombed in wood qi.
“—Wait! Are you really not intending to consider what I just said?” Rong Yu broke into a small run as he chased after him. “What about Mount Ling? You’re not going to take care of them?”
Dao Lord Tianshu continued forward without turning his head.
Mount Ling… yes. Mount Ling had been one of the true instigators. Had they not secretly aided the Demon Realm, she would never have been blocked outside the Yao Realm in the first place.
Of course he wanted to slaughter every last one of those people.
But Mount Ling was treacherous. Now that they were on guard, if he were to entangle himself with Mount Ling alone, he had no idea how many years it would take to exact his revenge.
He had already been separated from her for far too long. He could no longer endure walking this world by himself.
He wanted only to be with her as soon as possible, to stay somewhere beyond the reach of this world’s clamor.
“I just heard them talking, they said Mount Ling has been emptied! Not empty of people, the entire mountain is gone!” Rong Yu said breathlessly, words tumbling out in a rush. “A jiejie from Kunwu said that thousands of years ago, Mount Ling’s first chosen Sect Master to ascend devised a Mountain-Shifting Array (搬山阵法). The whole of Mount Ling has been hidden in the Ghost Realm!”
Dao Lord Tianshu halted.
“I don’t trust cultivators of the Cultivation Realm, I don’t understand any of the things they weigh and calculate.” Rong Yu continued, wiping the tears from his face as he spoke to that unmoving back. “Mount Ling has the richest wood-element qi of all. I don’t want to wait hundreds of years. Come with me to the Demon Realm. Together, we’ll fight our way into the Ghost Realm and revive Master on Mount Ling, okay?”
Author’s Note: Next chapter switches to Zhao Zhao’s perspective, shed light on unraveling some of the mysteries surrounding her prophetic dream.
