My Husband’s Ascension C66
Chapter 66 Sacrifice
The murderous intent hanging over them was like a sword suspended in midair suddenly caught, as if held fast by something unseen, and in those suspended breaths, it vanished entirely.
The thunderous might that had been poised to strike dissipated before all eyes, as if it had never existed.
Zong Fei, standing before him, could hardly describe the transformation in that instant: as though a barren, indifferent wasteland had suddenly awakened with life, and the world had shifted from a bottomless hell to a peach-blossom paradise.
The eyes that had brimmed with boundless killing intent now shone with renewed vitality.
Xie Lanshu’s lashes trembled as he lowered his gaze to the young woman asleep in his arms.
“Ma–Master?” Senior Sister Mu Ling spoke tentatively, teeth chattering, her grip tight on her sword, afraid he might act rashly and strike once more.
“From this day forth, I am neither your master nor Zong Fei’s, nor am I the Dao Lord of the Cultivation Realm.”
The seal of the Dao Lord lay discarded at Mu Ling’s feet.
As if history had replayed itself, the Kunwu disciples knelt en masse, attempting to bind him with duty and affection.
But this time, Xie Lanshu did not pause.
In this small world, his presence was the greatest obstacle to Mount Ling’s destruction.
Thus, he could do what he had been unable to do before, he could cast off the chains that had once restrained him from protecting her.
This time, Xie Lanshu walked past the two kneeling senior disciples, holding the woman in his arms as though she were the most precious thing in the world.
…
Three days later, news spread throughout the Cultivation Realm that Dao Lord Tianshu had relinquished his position, plunging Immortal Realm of Kunwu into chaos.
Ten days after that, Rong Yu, the Demon Lord of the Demon Realm, led an army of a hundred thousand to breach Jimo Sea and strike directly at Mount Ling, engaging in open battle with Yao Ling, disciple of Wu-Shaman Xian.
A month later, Yao Ling was turned against her master, and the ten great Wu-Shamans of Mount Ling were annihilated. The shocking exposure of four of the realm’s greatest cultivators being used as human pillars sent the entire world into horror.
…
“I’ve told you, there’s no way I can learn all these Divine Farmer Sect cultivation manuals in one go,” Zhao Zhao said, opening her eyes as she sat quietly among the bamboo forest, a slight headache forming at the sight of the heap Xie Lanshu had returned with. “Besides, we do not know when we will leave this small world. It doesn’t matter whether my body is fully restored or not…”
“The Spirit and Marrow Pill (神髓丹), made from ten-thousand-year-old ganoderma, can restore the meridians. It is somewhat bitter, but I had Sect Master Jie Li coat them with a layer of sugar. Take one before tomorrow’s cultivation; it should help.” He busied himself, spreading out the spiritual pills and elixirs he had brought back, along with some ancient texts borrowed from the Divine Farmer Sect’s library.
These items naturally could not leave the small world, but once fully comprehended and integrated into one’s own understanding of Dao, they could be applied in any time or space.
Xie Lanshu moved to Zhao Zhao’s side, pausing for a moment in silence. At his fingertips, spiritual energy coalesced and struck several of her acupoints in an instant.
Caught completely off guard, Zhao Zhao vomited a mouthful of dark, black blood.
“It’s alright… it’s alright…” He supported her by the shoulders, the warmth of his palm brushing along her spine. “The flow of spiritual energy in these three acupoints was blocked. Once cleared, your cultivation will proceed far more smoothly. Did I press too hard?”
Xie Lanshu lowered his head, meeting a pair of eyes layered with complex emotion.
The countless items he had brought from the Divine Farmer Sect lay there, and even without inspection, it was clear that many were closely guarded secrets, forbidden to outsiders.
Zhao Zhao did not know how he had persuaded their Sect Master to allow her to study them, but he had done it.
At first, she had managed to ignore them, pretending they did not exist. But day after day, layer upon layer, the pile grew until it was nearly a small mountain; there were just too many to overlook.
She did not know how to deal with them.
For she understood that each manual, each vial of pills, contained a silent apology that could not be spoken aloud.
He remembered the words he had spoken to her in Separation’s Regret Heaven, remembered how he had once indifferently issued a cruel order to expel her, every hurtful word etched into memory.
Zhao Zhao could not pretend she had not heard them.
Just as she could not deny the existence of those apologies at this moment.
All she could do was watch the pile grow ever higher, nearly swallowing her whole.
In this small world, Yao Ling and Rong Yu, amidst handling the aftermath at Mount Ling, would occasionally come to check on her as she recuperated.
To prevent them from clashing with the very person who had shattered her cultivation, Zhao Zhao would usually have Xie Lanshu remain hidden deep within the bamboo grove, forbidden to appear without her permission.
Yao Ling had even suggested taking her back to see the rebuilt Cloudculm Abode; the two children devising every means to prolong her stay.
They, unaware of the truth, could not comprehend why their Master would remain with the very nuisance who had tormented her.
As her body gradually recovered, Zhao Zhao no longer feared an external surprise attack from Wu-Shaman Xian. She stayed in the reconstructed Cloudculm Abode, seldom returning to the small bamboo hut where she had been nursing her wounds.
…
Ten days later, under the moonlight, a knock came at her window.
A snow-white dove perched on the sill, carrying a vial labeled Realm-Stabilizing Pill (凝境丹).
In this small world, Zhao Zhao was on the verge of breaking through the fourth great realm. The Realm-Stabilizing Pill would stabilize her spiritual energy after the breakthrough. Yet when she had left, she had brought nothing from the bamboo hut with her.
“…If you knew where I was, why didn’t you come to me?”
Returning to the bamboo grove, Zhao Zhao found Xie Lanshu, who she had left behind.
He had not even returned to the bamboo hut, instead remaining deep in the grove, camping under the open sky for ten days. His silver hair, dampened by dew, gleamed in the moonlight like a water spirit as he gazed at her.
“Because you told me to wait here until you allowed me to leave. Only then could I come to you.” His eyes were fathomless, impossible to discern whether they held bewitchment or submission.
Zhao Zhao pressed her lips together. “If you’re so obedient, why did you have a snow dove bring me pills?”
He remained silent for a long moment, then took two steps forward. It seemed he intended to lift a hand to brush her cheek, but a certain prohibition flashed across his mind, and he abruptly stopped.
“Because I am afraid. I am jealous of those disciples who can cling to you without reproach, jealous of the yao familiars who accompany you like shadows, jealous of anyone who can laugh with you, see you day and night, and even those inanimate objects that brush against your skin… I want to destroy them all.” There was a serene madness in Xie Lanshu’s eyes as he spoke. “I fear that you have already sensed my true nature, and long ago, could no longer bear me by your side. The moment you return to a place familiar to you, you would never wish to look at me again…”
True to the rules Zhao Zhao had set, he had not touched her at all.
Yet she still felt suffocated, as if some thick, invisible substance clung to her, wrapping her so tightly that she could scarcely breathe.
Zhao Zhao drew a deep breath and turned her gaze away. “I have not—”
“You have.”
Xie Lanshu knew that, despite being near him, her heart still longed for that place called Cloudculm Abode.
“However, it matters not,” he said, a faint smile rippling across his eyes as calm as autumn waters. “You came to see me, and that makes me very happy.”
“…”
A strange, unplaceable feeling stirred in her.
For a moment, Zhao Zhao felt uncannily like those rotten husbands who fool around outside after marriage, while their wives are left to bear the humiliation and pardon them.
Yet all she wanted was simply to return home.
…
On the morning of the second day after returning to the bamboo grove, the two were transported into another small world.
This one was a complete reversal of the last.
Mount Ling had not fallen. Zhongli Lanruo had become the fifth human pillar, and with her metal element soul, Mount Ling finally fulfilled their millennia-spanned desire.
And Xie Lanshu, after Zhongli Lanruo’s death, had become the head of the Zhongli Clan. Refusing to submit to Mount Ling’s rule, he was branded a renegade by the entire Cultivation Realm and forced to flee endlessly.
This was supposed to be the scenario with the most improbable circumstance for him and Zhao Zhao to become acquainted.
Yet fate, in its peculiar way, arranged for them to meet again at Yunmeng Pier. Gravely wounded, Xie Lanshu was once more taken in by Zhao Zhao.
This time, while he did not lose his memory, he had still fallen in love with her.
“Since Zhao Zhao likes you, we, as her Uncle and Auntie, only wish for her happiness. We will handle the marriage arrangements. Henceforth, you will be married into the Xie Residence, and those former, illegitimate means of livelihood should be abandoned…”
The Xie Residence mistook Xie Lanshu, leading the Zhongli Clan rebels, for nothing more than a bandit.
Fortunately, his extremely handsome face alone spared him from being beaten off by the Xie Couple, and they agreed, for Zhao Zhao’s sake, to welcome him into the household.
In the main hall, Zhao Zhao and Xie Lanshu exchanged a look.
This scene had already unfolded once in their original world, and sitting here, hearing it replayed, Zhao Zhao felt a disorienting blur between past and present.
“Wait a moment.” She interrupted the discussion that had already begun about which establishment would provide the wedding attire, glancing at Xie Lanshu. “Marriage is no trivial matter. Don’t rush to decide yet. Auntie, you should think it over carefully as well.”
Auntie Xie looked startled. “Weren’t you just last night crying and insisting that I consent, saying that even if he’s a bandit, he must be your husband, or else you’d go to a nunnery and shave your head?”
Zhao Zhao froze, her face stiffening. She dared not look at Xie Lanshu’s expression.
Even if this was just an inconsequential small world, saying something like that was mortifying. Had she really been like this at that age?
Zhao Zhao tried to recall.
True. Back then, the girl who could threaten with her very life the husband who had once abandoned her…it wasn’t so strange that she could say such things.
“…That was last night,” Zhao Zhao said, her face taut as she forced herself to sound composed. “Now that I’m clear-headed, I cannot let a bandit be my husband.”
Auntie Xie glanced at the young man across from them.
Though he lived as a bandit in the mountains, his bearing was refined, his composure elegant. Even the most talented scholars of Yunmeng Pier could not compare to him.
Such a man, even as a bandit, looked like one destined for greatness.
Though a twinge of regret lingered, Auntie Xie respected Zhao Zhao’s wishes and left the decision of his fate entirely to her.
With the hall now emptied of all but the two of them, Zhao Zhao set aside the awkward exchanges from before and spoke with measured seriousness, “I’ve realized that when your emotions are at their most stable, we can leave this small world and move on to the next without lingering too long in one place.”
The longer they stayed, the deeper their emotions sank, as if they truly lived a lifetime in that world.
In a favorable small world, this might be tolerable. But in one like the current, with Mount Ling flourishing to its zenith, even a single extra day became torment.
Xie Lanshu had nearly lost his mind before because, within a very short stretch of real time, he endured an exceedingly long life in a small world.
Now, having experienced three small worlds, Zhao Zhao felt only mental fatigue; no confusion had yet touched her.
“As long as you can maintain emotional stability, our chances of returning to the original world will increase greatly.” She fixed her gaze on his eyes and asked, “In this world, what must be done to calm you?”
After a pause, Xie Lanshu let out a soft laugh. “Do you truly want my reply? You should already know the answer.”
Zhao Zhao froze for a moment, the words of Auntie Xie echoing in her mind.
The simplest approach would be to marry him, wasn’t it?
“Staying here will suffice,” Xie Lanshu said, not stating it outright, only casting his gaze toward the direction of the Cultivation Realm. “Avoidance is also a way to find calm. This world does not belong to me; in it, I have already lost. Spending the remainder of my years at Yunmeng Pier is a choice in itself.”
A tinge of melancholy settled over Zhao Zhao.
Mount Ling had become the leading member of the orthodox sects in the Cultivation Realm. Then Daoist Ming Jue, Yao Ling, Rong Yu… even Li Feng and the others… she could not fathom what lives they were leading in this small world.
Yet she knew well that should they fail here, death was the only outcome for all of these people in their reality.
Wu-Shaman Xian would never spare them.
Once again, Zhao Zhao chose to sleep to ease the fatigue and its relentless pull. Xie Lanshu was placed in the room next door.
“Try to sleep as much as you can, your mental state is even more important than mine…”
Returning to her room, Zhao Zhao quickly shed her outer garments and lay down on the bed she had not slept in for countless years.
The maids in the room watched, wide-eyed, as she moved with a practiced deftness, picking up and hanging her clothes with more skill than any of them.
Had it not been by their mistress’s command, they might have screamed in shock.
“Mm, got it.” Amid the terrified gazes of the maids, Xie Lanshu sat at the edge of her bed and brushed a stray lock of her hair from her face. Then, as if the thought had just struck him, he murmured regretfully, “Such beautiful hair… it would be such a shame to become a nun and cut it.”
Already exhausted to the utmost, Zhao Zhao snapped her eyes open.
“What are you all standing there for? Get him out!” She spoke with irritation to the maids in the room.
Xie Lanshu’s gaze lingered on her, tender yet unyielding, before his fingertips slowly released that strand of black hair.
The door closed behind him.
Yet he did not leave immediately. He lingered outside, standing there for a long while.
…
Evening settled.
A hundred meters beyond the Xie Residence’s rear hill, Wu-Shaman Xian appeared, leading several thousand capable cultivators from Mount Ling; men and women who should never have set foot on this land.
As if anticipating it all along, Xie Lanshu had silently taken his post nearby, waiting for their assault before they could strike the Xie Residence.
This small world was likely the one among the Three Thousand Million Worlds where Wu-Shaman Xian matched Xie Lanshu’s strength most evenly, the only one in which a direct confrontation was plausible.
If he were in Wu-Shaman Xian’s position, he would never have let such an opportunity pass.
“For millennia, you are the only one in the Three Thousand Million Worlds to endure this long without going mad, Dao Lord Tianshu, you truly are a prodigy seen once in a thousand years.” Wu-Shaman Xian regarded him with an imperious gaze. She was currently the ruler of the entire Cultivation Realm, her cultivation profound, perhaps even surpassing Xie Lanshu’s. “Alas, I have divined your fate. This life of yours is destined to end in obscurity and solitude.”
The very appearance of Wu-Shaman Xian here confirmed their previous suspicions.
If they continued to rotate through the small worlds, they would inevitably return to their original world.
It was precisely for this reason that Wu-Shaman Xian, realizing they could remain clear-headed, could not wait and came personally to deal with them.
Xie Lanshu stood between the cultivators of Mount Ling and the Xie Residence, expressionless, his grip tight around his sword.
In the past, at such a decisive moment, he would have prioritized getting Zhao Zhao away.
But now…
He gave a wry, self-mocking smile.
If she must inevitably lose something again and make another choice, then there was only one way to minimize her suffering.
He had to sacrifice himself.
