My Husband’s Ascension C74
Chapter 74 Extra 2
The once sparsely populated Xie Residence had, over the passing years, grown considerably in members.
Uncle Xie seated Zhao Zhao in the main hall and, one by one, introduced her to their various relatives.
Her older (male patrilineal) cousin had two sons and two daughters, and those children had in turn produced a total of seven grandchildren. The eldest grandson already had an adorable little daughter.
Zhao Zhao blinked and met the gaze of the small girl with the horned pigtail braids.
The five-year-old regarded her with wide, dark eyes, timid and uncertain, as if she could not comprehend why her great-grandfather’s little sister appeared even younger than her own mother.
“Hello great…great auntie…” the little girl stammered.
Blood ties were indeed a curious thing.
Zhao Zhao felt a touch embarrassed as she took the seat of honor, greeting each elder—some of whom looked scarcely older than Daoist Ming Jue.
Daoist Ming Jue, however, seemed instantly at ease with Uncle Xie. After a brief conversation, he made plans to take a fishing excursion on the lake the following day.
“So you are Zhao Zhao’s master… All these years, you have tended to her with such care…”
“Not at all, it has been no trouble.”
“You are too polite, too polite…”
…
Before long, Li Feng found himself beset by the children. Curiosity, tempered with a hint of caution, drew them near once they learned from Zhao Zhao that he was a dog yao.
The boldest little girl stepped forward and asked, “Does being a dog yao mean…. your original form is a big doggie?”
Li Feng, ever impatient with children, waved her off dismissively, “Don’t bother me.”
Yet the girl persisted, clutching a small ball with curiosity shining in her eyes. “Then you must be good at catch, right? We’re a person short for cuju. Could you play with us, please?”
(TLN: cuju (蹴鞠) - refers to an ancient Chinese ball game. The term "蹴" signifies actions like kicking, treading, or striking with the foot, while "鞠" originally referred to a ball made of leather with an inner filling of rice husks.)
“Hmph. Who would want to waste time with a bunch of children…your aim is always so terrible!" Though his words were scornful, Li Feng had already flashed to a tree the moment the ball was kicked, catching it deftly with one hand. The children erupted in cheers.
As for Yao Ling, Rong Yu, and Zhongli Shun—
They had nearly been mistaken by Auntie Xie for Zhao Zhao’s own children. When she learned they were merely disciples, she pinched Yao Ling’s cheek with mock regret, then glanced at Zhao Zhao with an expression that seemed to ask when she and Xie Lanshu might produce a few children of their own.
Zhao Zhao merely smiled and feigned ignorance.
Cultivators were often incapable of bearing children. She had no intention of bringing heirs into the world, and this was a truth she could keep to herself, sparing her mortal aunt the worry.
The Xie Residence now housed five generations under one roof. After the evening meal, Zhao Zhao lingered with her auntie in conversation for some time, only returning to her former chambers with Xiao Bai in the deep of night.
The servants of the estate, too, moved about their duties.
Upon learning that their mistress and her husband had returned, they brought buckets of water from the kitchen to the room, preparing it for the two to wash and refresh after the day’s labors.
Yet today the Xie Residence was teeming with guests, and the servants fetching water were momentarily overwhelmed. The lead attendant’s gaze fell upon a small boy sweeping in the corner. “Little fool, come here. You carry this bucket.”
The boy paused in his task, turned silently, and walked over to lift the wooden bucket—far heavier than what a child of seven or eight should manage.
The attendant, however, knew he could.
This “little fool” had been brought back to the Xie Residence six months prior, found alone and dazed during the ancestral prayers on the mountain. Seeing him pitiably alone and simple-minded, the elders had brought him home, assigning him any odd chores he could perform.
At first, he had seemed a quiet, dim child, but his strength belied his frail and scrawny appearance. When the household lacked hands, he could handle the heaviest tasks, proving himself no idle mouthful at the Xie Residence.
“The mistress is a cultivator, you’re not exactly clean, so mind you don’t soil the water. And though she does not concern herself with the divide between men and women, you must keep your eyes in check. Understood?”
The dusty little boy nodded.
Trailing behind the adults, he made his way to the rear courtyard.
He knocked at the door, and the attending maids inside opened it. The water-carrying servants entered in orderly fashion, and the small boy, last in line, carried his bucket into the room.
The room was bright and filled with a faint, lingering fragrance of incense.
The small boy clutching the wooden bucket could scarcely make out the path ahead, and dared not glance around.
Then a young man’s voice broke the quiet: “Huh? Even a child this small is bringing water?”
The boy furrowed his brow slightly.
For some reason, that voice stirred an odd displeasure within him.
Still, he did not pause. Standing on a low stool, he strained to reach the edge of the wooden tub and poured the water in.
The attendant who had brought him spoke respectfully with a smile, “This is the little fool the elders brought back. Though he is small and slight, his strength is remarkable. One bucket of water is nothing to him.”
Having finished, the boy hopped down from the stool and lowered his gaze, standing quietly at the back.
Then he heard a sweet, clear voice from across the room: “We can draw the water ourselves and use an incantation to heat it. Let it be for today. From tomorrow onward, there’s no need to bring water. Is that clear?”
“Clear, clear as day.”
Suddenly, the small boy, who had scarcely reacted to the outside world before, felt an inexplicable urge to lift his head and see the woman speaking. Her voice was clear and enchanting, like celestial music drifting from behind a veil of clouds.
Note followed upon note, carrying a familiarity as if he had heard it once before, long ago, in some nameless dream.
Lost in thought, he was startled when a corner of snow-white cloth, like a blossoming petal, unfurled before his eyes.
A face, as luminous and flawless as jade, appeared before him unbidden.
“…Your eyes… they’re like his.”
Those limpid, clear eyes gazed upon him, and the boy stood frozen for a long while.
For as long as he could remember, his days had been a haze of labor and eating. The world called him a little fool, and he had long believed himself unlike others, like an animal that had yet to gain sentience.
But the instant he saw her, it was as though a bolt of thunder had struck his mind.
The fog that had long clouded the vessel of his soul suddenly cleared, and her face was seared indelibly upon his eyes.
Every drop of blood, every shred of flesh, every flicker of thought within him seemed to cry out—Follow her. Never let her go again.
“What do you mean? Like who?” A slightly jealous arctic fox stepped forward, scrutinizing the grimy little boy who looked as though he had been pulled from a fire, and grumbled, “He’s nothing more than an ordinary child. At most, his eyes are a bit pretty… I don’t see him resembling anyone at all.”
Zhao Zhao turned her gaze toward Xiao Bai, meeting the very same eyes as the boy’s. “I never said who he resembled. How would you know?”
Xiao Bai: “…”
A soft, spoiled “Master” nearly slipped from his lips, but he remembered his role as Xie Lanshu and forcibly swallowed it back.
“Thank you all for your efforts. It is nearly time to wash up; you may leave now.”
The other servants departed obediently, yet the small boy, whose eyes were identical to Xie Lanshu’s, remained.
His feet seemed rooted to the ground, and his gaze was fixed unwaveringly on Zhao Zhao. His head, like a tiny sunflower, followed her wherever she moved.
Xiao Bai huffed in annoyance. “…You still aren’t leaving?”
The little boy’s gaze remained fixed unflinchingly on her.
He did not want to go.
How could he stay? How could he remain by her side forever?
Think, quickly, find a way.
Zhao Zhao regarded him with a measure of suspicion.
Had it not been for the Single Intent Sword remaining utterly still, she might truly have begun to wonder whether this child shared some link with Xie Lanshu.
“Do you need anything else?” She crouched down and asked patiently.
The boy said nothing. His eyes, clear as polished glaze, shone like buried gems, endlessly drawing in anyone who passed by, tempting them to take him along.
From the intensity of his stare, Zhao Zhao understood his intent. “You… want to follow me?”
At last, the boy responded, nodding slowly and solemnly.
Xiao Bai’s irritation flared, and he stomped his foot.
While the reason for his peeve remained elusive, it mirrored the unease the little boy had felt the first instant he heard Xiao Bai’s voice. Even seeing the child now, he could not suppress a deep, instinctive resistance.
“Sorry, but our Cloudculm Abode is on the verge of standing equal to the seven great sects. Our disciple selection is rigorous; even the physically sound are not guaranteed entry, much less someone of your condition—”
Zhao Zhao shot Xiao Bai a sharp glance, cutting off his words.
Turning back, she fixed her gaze on the small boy for a long moment.
Aside from his eyes, there was nothing that resembled Xie Lanshu. At seven or eight years old, having been picked up and raised by her aunt, he could hardly be Xie Lanshu’s reincarnation.
Yet Zhao Zhao remained unconvinced. When she had entered the Xie Residence, she had clearly sensed the Single Intent Sword stir slightly.
She had Xiao Bai fetch the sword, then said to the boy, “Draw this sword. If you unsheathe it, I will take you with me.”
The heavy sword landed in his hands. Its weight was far beyond what a boy his age should manage, yet he held it steadily.
A flicker of hope rose within Zhao Zhao.
But try as he might, the boy could not budge the Single Intent Sword from its sheath.
Accustomed to the powers of his own strength, the boy froze in place, bewildered by his failure.
“This is no fault of yours,” Zhao Zhao remarked, a trace of disappointment in her voice, though she spoke to comfort him. “The sword’s master has passed on. The spirit of the blade sealed itself. Anyone who has not earned its approval, no matter how skilled, cannot draw it.”
It seemed she had been imagining too much.
Zhao Zhao reached out to pat his head. “Thank you for bringing the water today. Go rest early now.”
At her words, Xiao Bai’s expression finally brightened. He reached for the boy’s collar and unceremoniously tossed him out the door.
But as the door was nearly closed, the boy suddenly shot out a hand and, using his uncanny strength, stopped Xiao Bai from shutting it.
“Cloudculm Abode, is it?”
Zhao Zhao paused, then nodded with a gentle smile. “You wish to cultivate at our sect? But the path there is long, far beyond the reach of mortals. It would be better for you to stay here at the Xie Residence.”
The boy pressed his lips tightly, and in his glassy eyes, a pure white flame seemed to burn. “No matter how many rivers or mountains lie between us, I will make my way to you.”
Author’s Note: A fleeting moment of sympathy for our down-on-his-luck ML who had to fetch bathwater for his rival in love.
