My Husband’s Ascension C72
Chapter 72 Adorned Blossom
Mists swirled, and a gentle breeze brushed her face.
At the highest tier of the thirty-three-layered palace, golden bells chimed softly in the wind. Zhao Zhao had returned here once more, and it felt as if a lifetime had passed since her last visit.
The furnishings within the hall were unchanged, down to the smallest detail. Sarcodactylis mixed with acronychia pedunculata burned quietly, filling the air with a scent that seemed to echo the presence of that man.
“Miss Xie, please, have a seat.” Lord Yaoguang opened the inner chamber’s door. Though the room was tended to daily, a faint stillness lingered, a residue of the long months without visitors.
Zhao Zhao seated herself cross-legged before the table. Lord Yaoguang slid open the paper door leading to the cliff, and a fresh breeze swept into the room.
Her gaze fell upon the numerous sword marks etched near the cliff’s edge.
“Why…are there so many sword marks?”
Though she was not a sword cultivator herself, both Yao Ling and Zhongli Shun were. They trained with the sword daily, and she often oversaw their practice, but she had never seen such a profusion of pitted scars upon the stone and earth.
Lord Yaoguang glanced in that direction, fanning gently with his golden ink fan.
“Ah…” He drew out the syllable, letting his gaze flick to Zhao Zhao’s expression. “Those were left when his sword-heart went out of control.”
As expected, the female cultivator before him’s eyes flickered briefly, betraying a hint of emotion.
Lord Yaoguang leaned forward slightly and asked, “Do you wish to know why his Dao heart faltered, why his sword-heart went out of control?”
Zhao Zhao slowly lifted her eyes, flecked with fragments of light. Those deep, dark eyes reflected his figure with crystalline clarity. “And if I said I did not wish to know?”
Lord Yaoguang paused, taken aback.
“I did not come here today to hear of his self-moving past. I have come to truly discuss with you how the people of Mount Ling are to be resettled.” Zhao Zhao spoke calmly and clearly, “Yin-Yang Sect, Ghost Soldier Sect, Divine Farmer Sect, and Moyan Sect once had elders destined to ascend and illuminate the Cultivation Realm. Yet they were trapped by Mount Ling, and the glory of their sects vanished in an instant. They now seek to exile the common people of Mount Ling from the Cultivation Realm. I wish to ask Kunwu to stand with us in this matter.”
Lord Yaoguang rested one hand against his chin, studying her in silence for a long while.
At last, he exhaled heavily. “Alas, those old men truly lack foresight. Had you truly married Dao Lord Tianshu back then, perhaps things would not have come to such a pass.”
Zhao Zhao lowered her lashes, her tone firm as she emphasized, “I am currently speaking to you about the people of Mount Ling.”
“Understood, understood,” he drawled lazily, then asked with casual curiosity, “I know Beaconlight Mountain has been destroyed. But even without Beaconlight Mountain, there is still Mount Ling. All the sects of the Cultivation Realm support Cloudculm Abode becoming its new steward. As for the people of Mount Ling… they were never truly your concern. Why insist on defending them?”
Zhao Zhao pressed her lips together. “If it had not been for the veiled Wu-Shaman supporting Mount Ling alongside me, there would surely have been casualties among Cloudculm Abode’s disciples. I promised her that the people of Mount Ling would be kept safe…a promise once made, I will fulfill.”
“…The ten great Wu-Shamans of Mount Ling fell at the hands of Cloudculm Abode. There may yet be those with darker designs who seek to stir trouble in secret,” Lord Yaoguang remarked.
Zhao Zhao blinked, the corners of her lips lifting in a faint smile. “All the gold and silver atop Mount Ling now belongs to Cloudculm Abode. Is that not a fair price to pay?”
Lord Yaoguang froze at her retort, then after a pause let out a soft, incredulous laugh. Since hearing of Dao Lord Tianshu’s death, this was the first time the taut string in his chest had eased even slightly.
“How do you wish Kunwu to stand with you?”
Zhao Zhao outlined her plan.
At present, most of Mount Ling’s people had been dispatched to aid in the rebuilding of Cloudculm Abode—but even this work would eventually be completed.
Most descendants of Mount Ling had little to no cultivation. Traveling in the wider Cultivation Realm, they could scarcely protect themselves. Most were confined to mundane toil; farming and tending fields, much like mortals, barely enough to survive. The remainder had depended upon the subsidies the ten great Wu-Shamans extracted from other sects.
Zhao Zhao had no intention of funding their livelihood, nor of leaving them to a life of mere subsistence.
So she planned to have a portion of Mount Ling’s people work in the pill-refining workshops under Cloudculm Abode.
The remainder would be entrusted to the sword-forging workshops under Kunwu, the brush-making workshops of Polaris Confucian Sect, and so on—sharing the responsibility alongside Cloudculm Abode.
In this way, the people of Mount Ling would not have to be exiled to an unfamiliar expanse of the Cultivation Realm.
In name, they would still belong to Cloudculm Abode, and should they encounter injustice, they could report it to the sect, which would stand firmly on their behalf.
It was the most elegant solution Zhao Zhao could devise.
Lord Yaoguang listened to her proposal, momentarily uncertain whether to call her heart overly generous or her mind extraordinarily clever.
Truly, it was the best possible course of action.
“I have only just taken command of Kunwu, and many details still require discussion with the elders. However, your plan is feasible. Those old men, though rigid and obstinate, will not oppose anything beneficial to the Cultivation Realm. In that case, I shall—”
He rose, but Zhao Zhao suddenly reached for the teapot on the table and poured him a cup of tea.
“Now that the main matter is settled, perhaps we can return to the topic you left unfinished earlier.” She began.
Lord Yaoguang froze mid-motion.
He slowly lowered himself back into his seat, a faint smile tugging at his lips, speaking in a tone that said ‘as I anticipated’, “Though you have grown much over these years, you are still, as when I first saw you, remarkably soft-hearted when it comes to Tianshu—”
“If you don’t want to say it, I’ll leave.”
“I’m only teasing, only teasing…” Lord Yaoguang let go of his playful tone and grew serious. “As for those sword marks, the story must begin with the year we congregated at the Blessed Land of Langhuan. Do you remember falling into the Soul-Shattering Abyss with Shi Lanyan at that time?”
Zhao Zhao nodded.
“In truth, at that moment, Tianshu had believed the one he saved was you.”
A truth she had never imagined before now appeared before her. Her pupils contracted slightly, and for a moment she was stunned.
He explained the misunderstanding caused by the Donghua Pearl, and then recounted the incident on the Demon Realm border, when they had been surrounded and attacked by several demon generals.
“Because he could not save you, when he later went into close-door cultivation at the Blessed Land of Langhuan, he began showing signs of being unable to control his Single Intent Sword. Each time he attempted to regain mastery, his sword would lash out against him. During the seven years you were apart, almost every day, he was wounded by his own life-bound sword.”
A shadow of sorrow passed over Lord Yaoguang’s eyes as he lowered his gaze and sighed softly. “I am not telling you this to make you feel guilty or blame yourself. It is only that when I heard what happened on the Demon Realm border, on the day you died, Tianshu had been right there, yet he could not save you. You may have thought he did not try his utmost, unaware that he was unable to control the Single Intent Sword at that moment.”
“Miss Xie, I do not wish to defend Tianshu for any wrong he may have done to you. But there is one thing I want you to understand—”
“That he loved you. You need never doubt it. Every sword wound on his body over those seven years is proof of his love. If he had had any way to save you then, he would have done so with greater resolve than anyone else in the world.”
Something seemed to catch in her throat. Zhao Zhao felt her eyes growing hot and unbidden tears threatening to fall.
She rose, almost to hide it, and walked toward the cliff where the mountain wind cut sharply.
The sword marks were countless, mottled across the stone.
Her fingertips traced lightly over the grooves. The edges were cruelly sharp, deep enough to carve into stone; how unbearable it must have been to be cut to flesh and blood?
And yet, what did these marks matter?
If he had truly wished to love her wholeheartedly, why would he have been tormented by the Single Intent Sword?
These wounds were proof of his resistance, of his unwillingness to give himself over to her.
…How particular.
Even knowing this clearly, and understanding the reason he had held back from loving her, having seen how he was raised and the life that shaped him, the weight of resentment she felt even over this point had grown lighter.
Zhao Zhao decided then, she would not hate him anymore.
Hatred and love alike burned fiercely within her. Now that the threads of their past had been rewoven, the emotions of attachment and resentment intertwined so tightly that she could no longer tell which dominated.
She stood there, untangling their shared history, laying bare each secret tangle of intimacy and grievance beneath the sun, smoothing out every wrinkle of pain and fracture.
From this place, all enmity began.
And from here, all was set down.
…
When leaving Immortal Realm of Kunwu, Lord Yaoguang handed Zhao Zhao a small spatial storage pouch.
“When Tianshu left Kunwu, he took nothing but his Single Intent Sword. Though he possessed very little else, what remained here was unused. It seems fitting to leave it to you, along with his little hoard. You were his wife; inheriting your late husband’s legacy is only right…”
Zhao Zhao peered inside and saw at once a spirit lamp, now extinguished.
Spirit lamps typically bore the name of their owner, but in Kunwu, Xie Lanshu had no given name. Only his title, Dao Lord Tianshu, was inscribed, to distinguish him from the previous ‘Lord Tianshu’s’.
“…I will take good care of it.”
Seeing that she made no refusal, Lord Yaoguang smiled with satisfaction.
He escorted Zhao Zhao all the way to the gates of Immortal Realm of Kunwu. It was the season when white plum blossoms were in full bloom. Zhao Zhao paused beneath a flowering tree, and on impulse, plucked a single blossom, tucking it into her hair.
She turned abruptly and asked, “Do you think I would look good in white?”
Lord Yaoguang froze for a moment, then smiled. “Why so suddenly?”
“Nothing,” she said. “Someone wanted to see me in white… even went so far as to have a set made. I just don’t know if it looks good.”
Lord Yaoguang clicked his tongue at her departing back, shaking his head. Truly, once a person is gone, others soon carry on… Miss Xie, you have taken a new flame too readily.
Zhao Zhao deliberately offered no explanation. With the white plum blossom still nestled in her hair, she returned to Cloudculm Abode.
The disciples of Cloudculm Abode were busy with the rebuilding of the sect.
The remnants of Mount Ling’s structures were being renovated; new living quarters were being added. Daoist Ming Jue, having taken a longevity pill made from Mount Ling’s immortal herbs, grumbled that his room should be placed farther from Zhao Zhao—otherwise, any time he had barbecue, she would sniff it out and scold him.
Ultimately, there was still so much to do.
“Bleat, bleat~” The celestial deer, happily grazing on the abundant immortal herbs of Mount Ling, raised its head and called out a few joyful cries upon seeing her return.
“Have you eaten your fill?” Zhao Zhao had barely stretched out her hand when the celestial deer nudged her palm eagerly. She laughed. “Then come home with me.”
The deer tilted its head, as if it wished to say something, but Zhao Zhao had already stepped forward. A beat behind, the deer bounded quickly to the tree where it had unearthed a treasure. Clutching the prize in its jaws, it trotted to follow Zhao Zhao.
It was a spiritual sword, gleaming faintly silver.
If anyone drew it from its sheath, they would see the two characters engraved on the blade: Single Intent. This was a sentient sword, forged personally from rare Kunwu steel by the previous Kunwu sect master, and personally gifted to his disciple.
The celestial deer had no understanding of what this was, only that it brimmed with spiritual energy, a treasure meant for its master.
Its master, however, seemed not yet aware.
But it mattered not, once she turned her gaze back, she would see it.
—And the soul slumbering within the blade.
Author’s Note: Though marked as the end of the main story, this tale is far from finished. This chapter serves as an OE (open ending); the epilogue continues into a HE (happy ending), depicting the sect’s reconstruction and the male lead’s revival and reconciliation. It’s roughly ten chapters, to satisfy my craving for a grand, heartwarming reunion~
