My Husband’s Ascension C55 (Part 2)
Chapter 55.2 Claim Alone
The wind howled, snow lashed, and the Demon Realm lay in the grip of a bitter midwinter.
“May I ask, are you Miss Immortal Yao Ling of Cloudculm Abode?”
A demon, holding up a portrait for comparison, spoke politely as Yao Ling drew her sword.
“The Successor has already instructed that Miss Immortal Yao Ling accompany us into the palace.”
Yao Ling, braced for a fierce battle, was surprised to find herself escorted into the Palace of Eternal Night without incident.
The famed demon palace differed from what she had imagined.
Though its hues were shadowed and somber, the temperature was comfortable, and flowers and plants flourished. Attendants in black robes came and went. Aside from being taller than humans and occasionally sporting extra limbs or tails, they appeared far from grotesque.
Yet all of this paled before the shock of seeing Rong Yu in person.
“…I thought the Demon Successor was supposed to grow slowly? How did you suddenly… become like this?”
Yao Ling stared at the boy, sixteen or seventeen by appearance, and could not reconcile him with the runny-nosed, crybaby little boy she had imagined from their letters over the years.
He was taller than her by a head.
He was… ridiculously good-looking.
And somehow, he looked well fit, dressed in that all-black, crow-like garb.
“Once one begins formal cultivation of demon techniques, growth accelerates somewhat.” Rong Yu cast a quiet glance at the girl before him, quickly averting his eyes to a crack in the floor. “…You are not quite as I imagined either.”
Before inviting Yao Ling, he had assumed she would still appear as a child, and he had imagined that, after being teased by her for years as a little crybaby, it would finally be his turn to feel grown-up.
Yet what he encountered was a young maiden in her earliest bloom, graceful and poised beyond his expectation.
For a long moment, the two remained silent. A faint, awkward tension spread between them, delicate and unspoken.
Fortunately, footsteps sounded outside.
“So she’s arrived.”
The silver-haired youth, draped in black fox fur, entered the hall with measured steps. Beneath the throne, he casually chose a chair and seated himself, his gaze settling on the pair. “What are you two doing?”
The boy and girl, frozen like statues with flushed cheeks, blinked awake from their daze and scrambled to compose themselves.
Rong Yu remained silent, holding back a breath as he seated himself.
Yao Ling turned toward the intruding silver-haired youth, voice tinged with embarrassment and rising slightly, “…That’s what I should be asking you! Why are you here, you wicked scoundrel!”
A faint smile lingered on his face; he did not seem ruffled by her indignation. “The last time I saw you, you were a child. In the blink of an eye, you’ve grown so much. Your master would surely be delighted to see you now.”
At the mention of her Master, Yao Ling’s temper flared.
Though later, through the letters Rong Yu sent her, she learned that her master’s death had been tied, in some measure, to Lord Tianxuan—and that he had slain Tianxuan, in part avenging her master.
Yet this could not change the fact that, back then, he had been so close yet had watched her master die before his eyes.
“Master would surely be pleased to see me… but to see you, she would be furious.” Yao Ling tilted her head, then let out a small, provocative laugh. “Or perhaps not. After all, you are no longer the Dao Lord who could bully my master at will. Your name is infamous, you have become a disgrace to the righteous path, and you can never return to the Cultivation Realm in honor. I wonder, when you forbade my master from remaining in the Cultivation Realm, forcing her away… did you ever imagine a day like this would come?”
Rong Yu, hearing her words, quickly glanced at the silver-haired youth’s face and murmured softly, “Yao Ling…”
“What?” Her gaze shot to his face in an instant. The faint, awkward tension that had lingered evaporated, and for a moment, it was as if they were children again. “You think I’ve gone too far? Want to speak up for him? Have you been spoiled so long by him that you’ve turned traitor?”
Rong Yu hurriedly declared his loyalty. “No, I—”
“I’ve heard everything. You’ve lived comfortably in the Demon Realm. As the noble Demon Successor, no one dared mock you. He even reunited your fractured demon lands and made you stronger. Do you think he is better than my master? Do you wish to be his disciple instead?”
By the end, Yao Ling’s own eyes were red as she looked at him.
Rong Yu, at a loss for words, did not know how to respond. Though he appeared grown, facing Yao Ling now, he was far less quick with words than he had been as a child. He could only awkwardly hand her a handkerchief and whisper his defense, “I… really haven’t… I dream of returning to Cloudculm Abode. I don’t like it here. I still prefer being with you all…”
During these fifty years in the demon palace, Rong Yu had seldom spoken with him.
Their only conversations had ever concerned Zhao Zhao.
Who had broken a branch of her tree, who had almost set it ablaze, how long it would take the demon clans to engage the Ghost Realm, whether the demons could find ways other than pillage and fire to strengthen their forces…
Rong Yu had never forced him to learn anything, nor had he actively taught him.
Yet after fifty years of striving toward a shared goal, these subtle exchanges had quietly shaped Rong Yu. From a little crybaby who relied solely on his master, he had grown into someone at least somewhat dependable.
He had to become dependable; so that when his master returned, she could feel proud of him.
“Really? You wouldn’t be a noble Successor in Cloudculm Abode.”
“What’s so great about being a Successor?” Rong Yu replied with a light laugh, seeing that Yao Ling was not truly angry. “I’d rather remain your little junior brother.”
“—Have you said enough?” The silver-haired youth, who had been observing them silently for some time, could no longer contain himself. He interjected, his gentle smile laced with a hint of sharpness. “So you speak of your concern for your master, yet come here to flirt instead?”
At the mention of “flirt,” the two, previously standing so close, suddenly recoiled, a tangible distance snapping between them.
“…What does this have to do with Master? I’m here for the ingredients for the Longevity Pill. Explain yourself clearly.” Yao Ling forced a calm tone, sitting down to discuss the matter at hand.
Indeed, the search for the ingredients for the Longevity Pill had some connection to Zhao Zhao.
For the key materials required to craft the pill were found atop Mount Ling.
The Longevity Pill was rare and precious, but ordinary cultivators had little use for it, so few would hoard such pills for those unable to cultivate.
The one given to Zhao Zhao in the past had been the only such pill in all of Kunwu. After she sent it to Yunmeng Pier, there was none left.
Since Mount Ling had been relocated to the Ghost Realm using the Mountain-Shifting Array, the celestial herbs used to concoct this pill had vanished entirely from the Cultivation Realm. To craft another Longevity Pill, one had no choice but to enter Mount Ling itself.
Fifty years had passed. The fractured Demon Realm had been unified, its strength greatly increased, now capable of challenging the Ghost Realm and eradicating Mount Ling.
Thus Rong Yu had summoned Yao Ling to seize Mount Ling alongside them.
With Mount Ling under their control, they could obtain the celestial herbs needed to concoct the Longevity Pill, and bring Zhao Zhao there to draw on the dense wood qi of the mountain, hastening her resurrection.
At that last revelation, Yao Ling’s heart stirred.
Her gaze darkened with complexity.
So he had betrayed Kunwu, taken Rong Yu with him, and forever barred himself from Cloudculm Abode—not for power, not for glory, but to find a way to restore their Master to life.
…Truly, why bother?
Unable to recognize what is precious in life; only in death does regret come too late. Countless loves and losses across the world, in different times and places, endlessly replay the same sorrowful tale.
Her future Dao companion could absolutely not be this foolish.
After Yao Ling agreed to their plan, Rong Yu rose to lead her to the quarters prepared for her temporary stay.
Just as they were about to leave, she suddenly turned her head and asked, “You’re no longer a Dao Lord now. Then how should I address you? Tianshu? That doesn’t even sound like a real name.”
The figure cloaked in black fox fur slowly lifted his gaze and smiled gently.
“Xie Lanshu. Everyone here calls me that.”
…
During the two days she stayed within the Palace of Eternal Night, Yao Ling heard no small number of things about Xie Lanshu.
In name, the rightful ruler of the Demon Realm was still Rong Yu, who bore the title of Demon Successor. In reality, however, the one who held absolute authority over the Demon Realm was Xie Lanshu, who possessed nothing more than the nominal rank of a minor demon official.
The demons both feared and despised him.
They feared the unfathomable depths of his power, and despised the fact that he had once slaughtered countless demons, only to later flee to the Demon Realm, seize their Successor, and use him to command the demon multitudes. Every year, there were demons who rebelled against him, but every uprising was silenced without a sound.
Outside of moments of ruthless severity, he was more like an ascetic.
He owned no lavish residence, living instead in a study beside the Demon Lord’s palace, convenient for handling affairs at any time and for safeguarding Rong Yu.
He possessed no wealth to speak of. The Demon Realm was cold year-round, yet the robe he wore never changed. When it was dirty, he used a cleansing art; when it tore, he stitched it himself. When Yao Ling heard that he even knew how to sew, she was stunned for a long while.
Gold and silver were dust to him. Power and status were merely tools for achieving his ultimate goal. Even when demons beneath him attempted to curry favor by offering beauties, he showed not the slightest interest.
In private, the pleasure-seeking demons often spoke of him as a freak, someone without emotions or desire.
Yet after hearing all this, Rong Yu shook his head and said to Yao Ling, “Come with me. I want to show you something.”
Taking advantage of the calm before tomorrow’s march, while Xie Lanshu was inspecting the troops, Rong Yu led Yao Ling quietly into the study adjacent to his own quarters—the very adobe Xie Lanshu used for his daily routines.
“I only discovered this recently… look at this,” Rong Yu said.
Beside a low, unremarkable bed sat a glazed lamp. At first glance, it appeared to be nothing more than a decorative piece, but inside, several tiny butterflies, no larger than grains of rice, flitted helplessly.
“These are Dream-Eating Butterflies (食梦蝶) of the Demon Realm,” Rong Yu explained. “Demons are vulnerable while dreaming, and those who dream often keep these butterflies to consume their dreams, protecting themselves from attack in sleep.”
“But cultivators hardly dream at all. How could he possibly have so many?” Yao Ling asked, puzzled.
“I don’t know. But Xie Lanshu doesn’t just store his own dreams in the lamp, he often takes them out to revisit them,” Rong Yu said.
A faint premonition stirred in Yao Ling. “Th–These dreams, could they all be…”
Rong Yu glanced warily over his shoulder. Satisfied that no one watched, he slipped the lamp open like a thief.
He had experimented with it many times before out of idle curiosity and long ago discovered how to unlock it.
The Dream-Eating Butterflies drifted out, delicate and graceful. Yao Ling plucked one at random. The butterfly exhaled a small bubble, opalescent and shimmering.
Within the bubble was a dream of the Mortal Realm, at Yunmeng Pier.
Yao Ling watched as, under the cover of night, the youth’s dark hair became a cascade of silver. Seated at the bedside, he halted his departure and settled back down by her pillow, drifting into sleep once more.
During the season when the gongfen plum blossoms were in full bloom, Yao Ling glimpsed her Master seemingly with child. The entire Xie Residence rejoiced, and her Master grew ever more cautious in her daily affairs; by summer, she was even forbidden from eating ice.
In the end, her husband could not resist her coquettish pleas. Under the cover of night, he went to the nearby town to fetch ice for her, returning by dawn the next day. The young woman leaned against him, her smile so radiant and serene that even a mere observer could feel their heart stir.
Another black butterfly emerged from the glass bubble, this time revealing a dream within Immortal Realm of Kunwu.
Her Master donned a robe as white as freshly fallen snow, residing in the cold and lonely Separation’s Regret Heaven. There, the elders of Kunwu demanded rigorous training from her, their faces stern; failure to comply would bar her from appearing alongside the Dao Lord before the world.
Her Master’s life was far from carefree, yet whenever Dao Lord Tianshu returned, her face would bloom with a dazzling smile, as if nothing had ever troubled her.
Dao Lord Tianshu, however, knew all. Even so, he wished for her to remain, so that even if her days were not entirely happy, she would remain by his side.
In the end, her Master became a fitting Dao Lord’s wife. Immortal Realm of Kunwu trusted her implicitly. Though her smile no longer carried the same ease of former years, the couple still accompanied one another, living out the quiet simplicity of a shared mortal life.
A red butterfly then released another dream, this time within the Demon Realm.
In it, disciples from Cloudculm Abode attempted to retrieve the resurrected Master, but she bore no memory of Cloudculm Abode; only her husband remained vivid in her mind.
Xie Lanshu smiled gently, comforting her and bidding her return home to await him. One by one, he slew all who came seeking her, changed out of a robe stained with blood, and upon opening the door again, reappeared as the same serene, moonlit gentleness of a devoted husband.
Yao Ling watched the Dream-Eating butterflies in astonishment.
Each dream was tied to her Master, unfolding in a manner strikingly similar, revealing that:
No matter the obstacles, no matter the price paid, in the end, he and their Master would be reunited as husband and wife, never to be parted again.
“Do you see it now?” Rong Yu earnestly explained to Yao Ling. “This is why I’ve spent nearly a hundred years running on his behalf for our Master, yet still remain wary of him.”
“All talk of cold detachment and dispassion is mere pretense. Every desire of his is devoted entirely to our Master. The moment he finds the chance, he will claim her wholly for himself.”
