My Husband’s Ascension C68
Chapter 68 Death-Bound
Yao Ling’s sword pierced flesh, yet the tip stopped a mere centimeter from the heart.
The confident smile on Wu-Shaman Xian’s face froze in an instant.
Zhao Zhao’s pupils constricted as she looked at the long sword embedded in Xie Lanshu’s chest.
Her mind swirled with visions from her precognitive dream of Yao Ling’s blade shattering his very soul, but it took her a long moment to realize that the sword had not truly sought to claim his life.
Even with foreknowledge, the course of fate did not waver: Daoist Ming Jue now teetered on the brink of death, and Rong Yu still stepped into the Demon Realm as its Successor.
And likewise, at this very moment, Yao Ling still pointed her sword at Xie Lanshu, capable of taking his life with a mere further centimeter.
Yet now—
Why had she stopped?
“Ma–Master…”
The young figure before her, no older than twenty, someone who should have had no knowledge of her in this small world, spoke a title she never expected to hear.
Yao Ling stared blankly at the sword in her hand, as though even she was astonished that she had raised it against the man before her.
“Yao Ling! What are you doing?!”
A sharp, commanding voice rang out from behind. Wu-Shaman Xian’s tone was severe, cutting through the air. Like Xie Lanshu, she was battered and nearly spent, but the fire burning in her eyes seemed capable of scorching the very world to ashes. “Kill Dao Lord Tianshu! Kill Xie Tanzhao!”
At the sound of the second name, Yao Ling snapped fully back to herself. She drew her sword and spun, pointing it squarely at Wu-Shaman Xian before her. “You want me to kill my Master? In your dreams!”
Wu-Shaman Xian paused in surprise, then quickly regained her composure. This was not the Yao Ling of this small world.
Yao Ling wiped the blood from her face, the metallic tang still thick in her nostrils, and a faint dizziness brushed her mind. Yet she gripped the spiritual sword firmly, stepping to shield Zhao Zhao and Xie Lanshu.
“…I see now.” Wu-Shaman Xian finally understood. The woman in the dark crimson robe rose deliberately, her eyes glimmering with a trace of amusement as they met Yao Ling’s gaze. “You likely have no idea yourself how you came to this place.”
Yao Ling frowned slightly, sweat forming in her palms. “I do not need to know. Tell us the way out, or this sword in my hand will very soon claim your head.”
Wu-Shaman Xian chuckled softly, a low, quiet sound. “You truly intend to kill me? Me—your kin, of the same lineage, sharing the blood of the same ancestor?”
Yao Ling’s pupils contracted sharply.
“Before you entered here, you beheld the murals around the altar, did you not? Those depict the nuoxi* of Mount Ling; a divine shamanic dance that only the purest bloodlines of Mount Ling can perform.”
(TLN: Nuoxi (傩戏) is a traditional Chinese performance art that originated from ancient religious rituals intended to expel evil spirits, disease, and misfortune while praying for blessings. Dating back to early sacrificial ceremonies as far as the Shang dynasty, it gradually evolved from a purely ritual practice into a form of masked drama combining singing, dancing, storytelling, and even acrobatics. Video linked below.)
She swayed slightly as she stepped toward Yao Ling.
“Among the ten Wu-Shamans of Mount Ling, only my younger sister Mi Yao and I can wield it. I had assumed you were merely an ordinary descendant of Mount Ling, yet you too can use the shamanic dance to open the Three Thousand Million Worlds. This means…Yao Ling, your bloodline is remarkably close to ours. We are the family truly connected to your veins.” Wu-Shaman Xian’s normally composed and solemn face softened into a warm, embracing smile. “When Mount Ling fell into calamity, you were likely one of the children lost in the chaos. Perhaps your parents still live. Return to Mount Ling, and I will find them for you. Have you never wondered what your true family looks like?”
Every word struck Yao Ling like a blow.
She had only known that she might carry the blood of Mount Ling, yet among its countless people, she had never imagined that she could be so closely related to Wu-Shaman Xian and the veiled Wu-Shaman.
Never had she thought that one day someone would speak to her of finding her parents.
“Yao Ling, you should reconsider. Which side do you truly wish to stand upon? Do you understand what it truly means to stand with these people behind you?” Each word came measured and soft, yet laced with subtle persuasion. “They have come to exterminate Mount Ling. Not only to kill me, but also those who, though strangers to you, should be your kin and friends. How innocent they are. It would be one thing if it were just anyone but you are different. You are of Mount Ling as well. You are their family…”
“I know you care for your sect, so I will not harm your master. Yao Ling, do you know of the Three Thousand Million Worlds? The small worlds here are real. All you need is to let your master remain here.” Wu-Shaman Xian stepped closer. Yao Ling, still gripping her sword, remained frozen, as if ensnared by the words themselves. “In this world, she will live happily with the one she loves, and in our world, peace will follow. Is that not a solution that benefits all?”
The crimson-robed shaman advanced with lips like blood, slow and deliberate, like some malevolent deity walking among mortals.
“You must see the logic in what I say, do you not? Then—”
A flash of sword light cut cleanly under the moon’s glow.
“Logic my foot! That wretched man is not my master’s beloved! You would have my master spend her life with that scoundrel? You are utterly vile!”
The frost-cold blade hovered just a thread’s breadth from her neck. Wu-Shaman Xian had not anticipated that this fiery little girl would dare such defiance. Her expression darkened. “Stubborn fool.”
The words had barely fallen when ripples suddenly spread across the void.
Wu-Shaman Xian shifted to dodge, yet a sword pierced her abdomen. Still, her movements betrayed no hesitation. With a single palm, she struck Yao Ling’s shoulder, sending the girl, who had rushed in too close in her fury, directly into the swirling vortex.
“Yao Ling!!” Zhao Zhao tried to grasp her with a vine, but everything happened in the blink of an eye. The hole in the void vanished instantly, leaving only a severed vine tumbling to the ground.
“I had intended for that child to deliver your final blow. No matter, that shall not be.”
Having been exceedingly cautious and unwilling to approach Xie Lanshu personally, Wu-Shaman Xian had no choice but to act. Black mist coalesced in her palm, and a surging torrent of spiritual power shot straight toward Xie Lanshu.
Such overwhelming spiritual pressure was far beyond what Zhao Zhao, whose cultivation had only just begun to recover, could withstand alone.
She instinctively drew her arms inward, preparing to flee with the man she held.
“You truly…do not wish for me to die,” his gentle voice whispered amid the flashes of fire and sparks, as he softly freed himself from her embrace.
The young man, who had not even dodged Yao Ling’s blade moments before, now called forth a spiritual sword from an unknown source and intercepted the attack.
Zhao Zhao’s eyes widened.
He still had strength!
Then why had he not dodged when Yao Ling struck?
Blood poured from his mouth as Xie Lanshu pressed against his agonizing chest, vomiting crimson, yet a calm, almost maddened resolve lingered on his face.
“Finally, the trap is set,” he murmured.
Wu-Shaman Xian finally realized the truth: his earlier feigned weakness had been a ruse, intended to lower her guard.
…How terrifying.
She had just seen Yao Ling’s blade pass within less than a centimeter of his heart. To draw her into a trap for the sake of killing her, he had risked everything to this extent.
“Heh. You are indeed ruthless, but that alone isn’t enough to kill me.” Wu-Shaman Xian’s lips curved into a cold, grim laugh, teeth clenched as she braced herself against the onslaught.
He’s already at the edge of exhaustion, strength nearly spent.Just one final strike… just one last strike…
Wu-Shaman Xian abandoned all defenses, gathering every ounce of power into that single, decisive blow.
A strike to end all!
She spun, intent on fleeing the Three Thousand Million Worlds, yet in that instant—
“He cannot kill you.”
Amid the howling hurricane of clashing spiritual streams, Zhao Zhao saw the figure reemerge from the void and smiled.
“But those bound to you by blood will settle the debts of Mount Ling with their own hands.”
Wu-Shaman Xian lifted her head, facing the sword light of Yao Ling that blazed across a thousand kilometers.
Her pupils dilated in disbelief. How did she do it in such a short—
Thud.
The head, heavy with countless desires and grudges, was cleanly severed by Yao Ling’s blade.
A torrent of blood gushed forth, soaking into the soil below.
Wu-Shaman Xian had perished, in this small world, the world in which she was at her strongest, and in which the millennium-long wish of Mount Ling had finally been fulfilled.
From that moment onward, across the vast expanse of the Three Thousand Million Worlds, there would never again be a small world where Mount Ling held dominion, where it could govern the entire Cultivation Realm.
The three of them stared at the severed head for a long while.
“…Is she truly dead?” Yao Ling gazed blankly at the ground, unable to process the reality that it had all ended with a single strike.
Zhao Zhao nodded, her emotions tangled and heavy. “She should be.”
When Xie Lanshu’s arm had been severed, she had remarked that the injury affected not only flesh but soul. That meant that damage sustained within the Three Thousand Million Worlds also wounded the original being.
“The remaining matter is that we must leave—”
Her words trailed off as the figure clad in snow stumbled and collapsed before her. Only then did Zhao Zhao remember that he had suffered grievous injuries, nearly pierced through the heart.
“I…” Xie Lanshu began when Zhao Zhao cut him off.
“Do not speak. I will tend to your outer wounds first.”
Blood that had left the body could not be reversed. Zhao Zhao’s face tightened as she did her utmost to stem the flow from his chest.
Seeing the gash across his chest, Yao Ling averted her gaze slightly, a note of guilt in her voice. “If you still had strength… then surely you could have dodged my strike…”
Zhao Zhao fixed her eyes on the wound, watching the flesh knit together slowly, layer by layer. Only when she saw it heal did she allow herself a quiet sigh of relief.
“That was far too reckless.” Zhao Zhao furrowed her brow, still shivering from the near miss of the blade. “If you had truly died, Yao Ling would have carried guilt for a lifetime. Even if you needed to lure the enemy into lowering their guard, you should have at least ensured your own survival.”
Yao Ling, crouched nearby, glanced at Zhao Zhao and blinked innocently. “Guilt for a lifetime is a bit much. This is the wretched man who tormented Master. At most…I’d feel guilty for a little while.”
Xie Lanshu, brought back from the brink of death, offered a weak smile. “I just…hesitated for a moment.”
“Why hesitate?”
His eyes, bright and unwavering, fixed on Zhao Zhao’s slightly troubled expression.
Within that gaze, laced with the faintest hint of a smile, ripples spread like water, masking the surging currents hidden beneath the calm surface.
“Compared to everything ending, being driven away by you afterward…perhaps dying here, in your arms, is not a bad conclusion after all.”
“……”
Zhao Zhao pushed the man who had been resting on her lap aside.
She then rose and checked Yao Ling carefully for injuries before asking, “Yao Ling, how did you manage to return just now?”
Returning to the matter at hand, Yao Ling recounted exactly how she had entered the Three Thousand Million Worlds.
To unlock the Three Thousand Million Worlds, one had to perform a precise shamanic dance tracing the celestial patterns*, a feat achievable if performers carry the blood of Mount Ling.
(TLN: 踏罡踩灵 should be a parody of 踏罡步斗, a specialized Daoist ritual stepping practice used in ceremonies to worship the stars and invoke deities. It involves precise footwork following cosmic patterns, symbolizing alignment with the universe. The practice is used to communicate with spirits, ward off evil, and cultivate the practitioner’s body and spirit.)
When Wu-Shaman Xian struck Yao Ling into another small world, her intent had been merely to delay her for a time. Yet Yao Ling’s talent far exceeded expectations; instinctively guided by her bloodline, she discovered the technique in an astonishingly short span and returned to this small world.
This allowed her to flank Xie Lanshu in concert and ultimately bring down Wu-Shaman Xian.
“I can try the dance again,” Yao Ling said. “If it doesn’t work the first time, I can try multiple times. We should be able to return, though…”
She hesitated, then spoke of what she had witnessed in that other small world.
“Though it probably won’t happen in our world, just seeing it startled me greatly.” Yao Ling blinked, her expression serious. “I saw the veiled Wu-Shaman swallow the heart of the Ghost King. She said she would move Mount Ling once more. This time, she intends to place it above Cloudculm Abode…doesn’t that sound terrifying?”
TL Note: To expand, nuoxi is a ritual art performance found in several regions of China. Performers wear masks and ceremonial costumes and combine dance, drama, and music in performances intended to expel evil spirits, ward off disease, and pray for prosperity, good harvest, blessings, etc etc. One of its most distinctive features is the use of elaborate masks, believed to embody gods or spirits.
Videos related to nuoxi -
There was a short drama that came out in 2025 called ‘Nuoxi’, and while heavily romanticized, the costumes are really pretty, so I included some pics xD
