Chapter 47: Disciple and Wife
For several days, Tao Ning didn’t see the white bird. She assumed it had grown tired of observing humans and wouldn’t return.
But then, a surprising turn of events. The bird reappeared, diving like a projectile and landing on a branch directly in front of Tao Ning. Its intense stare startled her, causing her to choke on the meat she was eating.
“Cough! Cough! Cough!”
Her face flushed from the coughing fit, she quickly took a swig of water from her waterskin, then, catching her breath, asked, “Seriously, who upset you? Why are you glaring at me?”
The bird puffed up its feathers, settling onto the branch with an indignant huff, glancing at Tao Ning before fixing her with another pointed stare.
Tao Ning: “…”
After a moment, she pointed at herself. “Me? Impossible. I’ve been traveling. You haven’t even been around. How could I have possibly offended you?”
The bird: “…”
Tao Ning: “Do you think I’m a Soul Transformation cultivator who can teleport thousands of miles just to annoy you? Whoever upset you, go find them.”
The bird: “…”
Its feathers puffed up even more, making Tao Ning wonder if she had unknowingly committed some offense.
But she’d committed so many questionable acts, it was hard to pinpoint a specific one.
After a prolonged staring contest, Tao Ning blinked, waving a hand dismissively. “Fine, you win. You can hold your stare longer than I can.”
The bird: “…”
Tao Ning resumed her meal, slicing off a chicken leg with her knife, discarding the skin before taking a large bite.
A fire crackled beside a mound of earth, next to a large, cracked clod of dirt imprinted with a lotus leaf pattern, the soil stained with grease from the heat.
A closer look revealed that it wasn’t a pattern on the dirt, but an actual lotus leaf wrapped around the clay, baked yellow by the fire, creating a natural, almost decorative effect, like a large, round, earthy egg.
The aroma emanating from this seemingly unappetizing object had attracted the bird, along with several other unseen creatures lurking nearby.
However, they were deterred by the faint, unsettling aura surrounding Tao Ning. Only the bold little bird dared approach.
Being watched while eating wasn’t a new experience, but this time, Tao Ning felt oddly self-conscious.
Holding the chicken bone between two fingers, she chewed thoughtfully, then asked, “Want some? It’s beggar’s chicken. Quite tasty.”
The bird continued to stare, but didn’t move.
Tao Ning interpreted the stillness as assent. Shaking her head, she sliced off a piece of chicken breast for the little projectile.
She offered the fragrant meat on the tip of her knife. The bird, which had been puffed up with indignation, now hesitated, its beak opening and closing several times.
It seemed to be engaged in some internal debate. Just as it finally decided to take the offering, Tao Ning pulled the meat back.
The bird looked at her quizzically, while Tao Ning frowned in thought.
She asked, “Beggar’s chicken is poultry. It’s a pheasant, though, a flightless one. Still, you’re both birds. Do you mind?”
The bird: You held that thought in for that?
Who are you calling a pheasant’s relative? I can fly! I can soar through the heavens! You ignorant Demonic Realm spy!
Realizing it had been teased, the bird ruffled its feathers, its beak opening and closing rapidly—what Tao Ning would interpret as bristling with anger.
Tao Ning, deciding not to push her luck—mostly because she suspected the little creature was about to unleash a feathered fury upon her—cleared her throat.
“My bad, my bad. I’ll cut it into smaller pieces. Consider it an apology. Okay?”
Not really okay. A respected elder of the Disciplinary Hall wasn’t swayed by such paltry offerings.
But the bird watched as Tao Ning found a clean lotus leaf and carefully diced the chicken.
Tao Ning’s face was serene in the firelight, her long eyelashes casting shadows on her cheeks. Her lips, still moist from the water, were slightly parted, resembling the petals of a Frost Flower.
Frost Flowers! The mere thought made it bristle.
“There. I don’t know how much you eat, but here’s a start. There’s more if you want it.”
Tao Ning offered the leaf-wrapped chicken, then frowned as the bird ruffled its feathers again, its beady eyes reflecting the firelight like tiny flames.
Tao Ning withdrew her hand, muttering, …Touchy little thing.
She decided against further provocation, fearing projectile retaliation – the physical kind, like other birds were prone to.
A barrage of droppings aimed at enemies, a daily reminder of their transgression, splattering windows… annoying and impossible to catch.
Tao Ning considered herself low-maintenance, but she valued cleanliness.
The bird marched over, still bristling, and pecked at the diced chicken, missing on the first try, its beak hitting the leaf.
It immediately glanced at Tao Ning, who seemed preoccupied, and let out a silent sigh of relief.
Tao Ning desperately wanted to laugh, but managed to restrain herself, continuing to gnaw on the chicken leg, her amusement bubbling just beneath the surface.
Her eating, while unconventional, was surprisingly neat. She managed to avoid staining her clothes or her face.
She wiped her mouth with a handkerchief, intending to wash it later by the river.
Cleansing techniques… best to conserve her limited spiritual energy for more pressing matters. She could be wasteful later, when she had more to spare.
Once the bird had tasted the chicken, it wanted more.
The first time, it had been hesitant, almost disdainful. The second time, it showed a little less restraint. By the third and fourth time, it was flapping its wings impatiently.
No longer polite in the slightest.
Tao Ning patiently continued to slice the chicken for it.
It was a tiny creature, fluffy like a chick, and didn’t eat much. She was happy to indulge its newfound appetite.
If it ever betrayed her, she’d capture it and figure out what it was.
Pure white plumage, shimmering like moonlight, the size of a fledgling spirit bird, yet lacking any spiritual energy… she recalled a legendary bird with a similar description…
Tao Ning paused mid-slice, a fleeting thought crossing her mind, too quick to grasp.
The flapping of wings brought her back to the present. She looked at the bird, a thoughtful expression in her eyes.
Tao Ning: “What are you…?”
The bird immediately puffed up its feathers.
“Never mind. I must be mistaken.” Tao Ning looked away, her thoughts hidden behind lowered eyelids.
She gave the bird a disapproving look. “Stop flapping your wings near the food. You’ll get feather dust in it.”
The bird, sensing something in her tone, smoothed its ruffled feathers. Both were now wary of the other.
Despite this, the bird continued to flap its wings defiantly, as if to say, You and your feather dust!
Tao Ning sighed. Birds really did hold grudges.
After their meal, as night fell, Tao Ning finally had time for other activities. Her days were spent traveling; a Qi Refining cultivator needed sleep.
After days of relying on cleansing techniques, she longed for a proper bath.
While the techniques were effective, she missed the feeling of being truly clean, a habit from her previous life.
She gathered her things and led the donkey towards a nearby lake, the bird perched on its head, somehow managing to make the stubborn creature carry it without complaint.
She tied the donkey to a tree, wary of opportunistic demonic beasts, then said, “I’m going to bathe. Keep an eye on him.”
The bird: You want me to be a donkey-sitter?
Before it could fully express its indignation, Tao Ning untied her belt and began undressing, her spiritual sense confirming they were alone.
A Mahayana cultivator’s spiritual sense wasn’t easily detected by those with lower cultivation.
It wasn’t until she draped her clothes over a branch near the bird and the donkey that the bird fully registered what was happening. But its body reacted before its mind could process, turning its back to the lake.
A proper elder of the Hanshan Sect wouldn’t engage in such impropriety. Taking advantage of someone in a vulnerable state was unbecoming.
The donkey, following the bird’s movement, turned its head, a slightly awkward maneuver for a creature of its size.
But it couldn’t defy the small, apple-sized creature on its head, snorting and pawing the ground in mild protest.
The sound of splashing water echoed through the night. Moonlight filtered through the trees, painting the lake’s surface with silver.
The bird, after a moment of contemplation, glanced at the discarded undergarments, a stark contrast to the coarse grey robe.
The outer robe, worn and frayed from their travels, resembled a beggar’s rags. But the seemingly thin undergarment shimmered in the moonlight, revealing intricate patterns and formations.
It was a Heaven-grade robe, albeit only the inner layer, worth more than a mid-sized spiritual mine, said to be able to withstand a blow from a Mahayana cultivator.
Spiritual mines were relatively common, but Heaven-grade artifacts were rare. Even with a spiritual mine, one wouldn’t be able to trade it for even a sleeve of a Heaven-grade robe.
As an elder of the Hanshan Sect, Cen Dianshuang wasn’t easily impressed by material possessions. Her own senior sister, the sect leader, had seen countless treasures.
What caught her attention was the fabric itself, something not found anywhere in the Radiant Realm.
The fabric, known as Golden Jade Silk, was woven by high-level Golden Jade Spiders in the Demonic Realm. It took a thousand years for a single bolt to be produced, countless spiders dying in the process.
Such material wasn’t typically owned by ordinary cultivators. If she hadn’t glimpsed a corner of it beneath the collar, she wouldn’t have realized this person was wearing Golden Jade Silk.
Initially, Cen Dianshuang suspected she was a protector from the Demonic Realm, but then dismissed the idea.
She had killed her fair share of demonic cultivators, even a protector from the Refining Fire Palace.
That protector had possessed a handkerchief-sized piece of Golden Jade Silk, boasting that it was a scrap leftover from Demon Lord Qingji’s artifact refining, lamenting that he had become renowned too late to witness the Demon Lord’s true face.
The younger generation of disciples didn’t know of the Refining Fire Palace, Qingji’s former refining grounds.
Legend claimed the palace was filled with countless artifacts, both spiritual and demonic, and mountains of precious materials, readily available for Qingji’s use. But she preferred creating to using, leaving them to gather dust.
Even a palace protector had to scheme for a small scrap. How could a low-level cultivator possess an entire garment?
Furthermore, her fighting style was efficient, targeting only those who attacked her, her actions relatively honorable, if a bit deceptive, unlike the typical behavior of those from the Demonic Realm.
They weren’t known for their gentle approach. This wasn’t Qingji’s era anymore. Tensions between the two realms had been escalating, with spies infiltrating both sides.
Could this unknown young woman be the Demonic Realm’s Saintess?
Their ages seemed to match, and rumors claimed the Saintess had disappeared, leaving only an illusion in her palace.
Cen Dianshuang couldn’t be certain. The fabric was definitely from the Demonic Realm, but the size was wrong, far too large.
They wouldn’t dress their Saintess in ill-fitting clothes. And her cultivation level was too low. A Qi Refining spy was almost laughable.
Killing her would be easy, but it would also sever a potential link to the Demonic Realm’s plans. Caution was necessary.
Qingji was known for her arrogance and self-assuredness, doing things solely on her own terms. Her robes would have been tailored to her exact measurements, skipping the usual resizing formations. The only explanation for the ill-fitting garment was that she hadn’t been able to wear it herself.
This misunderstanding influenced Cen Dianshuang’s judgment.
It was time to return to the Hanshan Sect and report her findings to the sect leader.
She had intended to mark the unknown cultivator and return to the sect, but every time she attempted to do so, she felt a prickling sensation, as if she was being watched.
Cautious by nature, she held back. If this was indeed the Demonic Saintess, it might be an opportunity to uncover a larger conspiracy.
Lost in thought, she heard approaching footsteps. Tao Ning, fresh from her bath, was returning.
She didn’t know what the sulking bird was thinking, but her own mind was buzzing with unanswered questions.
Her slightly scarred hands picked up her clothes, casting a cleansing spell on them before putting them on.
The plain grey robe covered the shimmering undergarment. She adjusted the collar, ensuring it was completely hidden.
Tao Ning addressed the bird. “Little thing, how do you win over someone who hates evil?”
The bird twitched its tail feathers, tilting its head in confusion.
Tao Ning: “Knew you wouldn’t understand. I’m not good at fighting, but I know a thing or two about people.”
The bird: …You?
Tao Ning had spent the past few days analyzing Cen Dianshuang’s personality, creating a mental profile.
Appearance-wise, she was undoubtedly stunning. Tao Ning still remembered the flowery descriptions.
She was only concerned with Cen Dianshuang’s cultivation level and character.
At three hundred years old, Cen Dianshuang was a Nascent Soul cultivator with Heavenly and Water spiritual roots, a rare talent in the Radiant Realm. She always carried a zither and a sword, a scourge of evildoers.
Water was gentle, all-encompassing.
But Cen Dianshuang’s nature was anything but gentle. She wielded her often-underestimated Water spiritual root with lethal precision. She once froze the blood in a disrespectful cultivator’s veins, blocking his meridians and causing him to explode.
At two hundred, she became an elder of the Hanshan Sect’s Disciplinary Hall, known for her impartiality, her icy demeanor, and her unwavering hatred of evil.
The Radiant Realm held a deep prejudice against the Demonic and Demonic Beast Realms, preferring to err on the side of caution, eliminating any potential threat.
Cen Dianshuang was different. She judged based on actions, not origin.
Many disagreed with her approach. How could demons and humans coexist?
Humans used demons for medicine and artifacts, demons consumed humans. Neither side was willing to yield. It was only due to the Demonic Realm’s isolation that a semblance of peace existed.
But she was a Hanshan Sect elder, a powerful sword cultivator. Questioning her judgment would likely result in a swift and decisive sword strike.
Taken in as an infant by the previous sect leader, she was his last disciple, raised and cherished by her master and senior sisters. This upbringing likely instilled a certain naiveté, a purity that even centuries couldn’t fully erode.
After much deliberation, Tao Ning finished dressing, fastening her belt. “Killing Cen Dianshuang’s disciple seems easier.”
The bird bristled silently. Cen Dianshuang didn’t have any disciples yet.
520: 【But Cen Dianshuang is the protagonist, favored by fate. She’s a Nascent Soul cultivator at the peak of her realm. Do you think you, a mere Qi Refining cultivator, can withstand her wrath?】
The outcome was obvious. Against anyone else, there might be a chance, but against Cen Dianshuang, it was a foregone conclusion.
She was capable of anything, even purging her own sect by killing the male protagonist. Killing Tao Ning, someone already dead in the original timeline, would be trivial.
As dawn broke, Tao Ning opened her eyes, a faint spiritual aura lingering around her. She was nearing the peak of Qi Refining, on the cusp of Foundation Establishment.
She didn’t need to look to know the ungrateful little bird was gone, having slipped away during the night, its intentions unclear.
Tao Ning flicked her shoulder, as if brushing away invisible dust.
Thousands of miles away, in the Hanshan Sect, a white-clad woman carrying a zither ascended the steps.
A young, blue-clad disciple beside her said, “The Sect Leader is still in seclusion. Perhaps Elder Cen should return another day?”
Her voice trailed off. She was quite intimidated by Cen Dianshuang.
Her senior sisters abandoned me so quickly! Now I’m alone with her!
The Disciplinary Hall Elder oversaw the punishments and conduct of all disciples, a figure of unwavering justice and strict adherence to the rules.
Cen Dianshuang was accustomed to the fear she inspired. If she was approachable, she wouldn’t be in charge of the Disciplinary Hall. She could be a cheerful administrator in the Disciple Hall instead.
She was about to speak when she suddenly stopped, turning sharply towards the sect’s entrance.
The blue-clad disciple, assuming she had said something wrong, followed her gaze with fear and trepidation, but saw nothing unusual – just the mist-shrouded, spirit bird-filled entrance and the faint shimmer of the protective formation.
Gathering her courage, she asked, “What is it, Elder?”
Cen Dianshuang, her brow furrowed, shook her head. “Nothing. I’ll return when my senior sister emerges from seclusion.”
The disciple: “Understood. I’ll inform the Sect Leader.”
Cen Dianshuang turned and flew away on her sword, heading towards Wangshu Peak. The spiritual mark she had placed on the unknown cultivator was gone.
Someone had erased a Nascent Soul cultivator’s mark. Who was capable of such a feat?
Tao Ning calculated the distance. She could reach the Hanshan Sect’s outer territory within five days. The disciple acceptance ceremony would be held there; ordinary people couldn’t enter the inner territory, let alone the heart of the sect.
But she was worried. Approaching Cen Dianshuang with her peak Qi Refining cultivation level was risky. She might be swatted away like a fly.
Yes, she intended to “accidentally” encounter Cen Dianshuang, relying on the elder’s sense of justice to prevent her from dying by the roadside.
After careful consideration, Tao Ning jumped down from the tree, one hand forming a cultivation gesture, the other searching for her spiritual veins.
【What are you doing?!】 520 was alarmed, its data panels flashing red.
Tao Ning pressed her fingers to key points along her meridians. “My cultivation was for self-defense. It’s no longer necessary. I’m discarding it.”
520: 【!!!】 All that effort, wasted!
520: 【Will this damage your meridians?】
Tao Ning closed her eyes, her expression and tone calm, her decision carefully considered.
“Others might damage themselves, but I won’t.”
Besides, the original host’s cultivation technique was derived from the same source as the Hanshan Sect’s inner sect techniques. While not outwardly obvious, a simple examination of her meridians would reveal the connection.
Even with the modifications over the past three thousand years, how would she explain it after the spirit root test and apprenticeship?
Claiming a shared ancestry from five hundred years ago would only result in her being beaten to a pulp.
A flash of spiritual light enveloped Tao Ning, her healthy complexion turning ashen. She winced, a trickle of blood escaping the corner of her lips.
She was now, once again, a mortal.
520 shrieked, 【You’re spitting blood!!!】
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