Chapter 76: Disciple and Wife
At the mountain gate, Demon Lord Tu Ming, confident in his victory, sat atop his giant dragon, leisurely directing the assault on the Hanshan Sect’s protective formation.
Under the relentless barrage, the formation flickered, its defenses weakening.
Sensing this, Tu Ming sent his subordinates to taunt the defenders, their words a repetitive stream of insults and threats, intended to demoralize and distract.
Battles between spiritual and demonic cultivators were often more brutal and destructive, but the initial posturing, the hesitation before the first strike, was similar to any mundane conflict. Without a clear advantage, neither side wanted to commit.
The demons were waiting for the Saintess to breach the formation from within.
So, for now, the battle remained a war of words, the Radiant Realm side fielding their most skilled orators to counter the demons’ taunts.
The younger disciples, unfamiliar with the demons’ brutality, struggled to contain their amusement at the childish exchange of “Come out and fight!” and “Come in if you dare!”, their laughter stifled by the presence of their elders.
Lizhu, however, wasn’t amused. Her calm demeanor was a carefully constructed facade.
Elder Qianlian, standing beside her, muttered, “Senior Sister, tell me I’m not dreaming. Grand Ancestor… alive… Here…”
Lizhu: “Don’t talk to me. I’m thinking.”
Her hands moved rapidly, forming intricate seals, a blur of red as she reinforced the weakening formation.
Elder Qianlian, a master of multitasking, her hands mirroring Lizhu’s movements, continued her rambling.
She had always been like this, her anxiety manifesting as a torrent of words, her speed rivaling a Buddhist monk chanting scriptures.
“It all makes sense now! Two divine artifacts… Why didn’t I realize it was Grand Ancestor?!”
Lizhu, sending another surge of energy into the formation, thought, Why didn’t I realize it?
She had suspected Tao Ning, testing her repeatedly, but the girl had deflected her inquiries effortlessly.
She had assumed Tao Ning was a reincarnated cultivator, seeking refuge in the Hanshan Sect, her pure heart and her loyalty to the sect, despite her secrets, making her a valuable asset.
If she had known Tao Ning’s true identity, she wouldn’t have tolerated the girl’s deception, helping Cen Dianshuang conceal it.
But who would have guessed it wasn’t a reincarnated elder, but their own ancestor?
She couldn’t dwell on it. The thought made her legs weak. Facing three Heaven-grade artifacts, she hadn’t investigated further, the revelation, now that it had come, strangely unsurprising.
Tao Ning had, after all, hinted at her true identity, offering subtle clues, which Lizhu, having returned the artifacts, had misinterpreted.
Remembering Qingji’s expression, she finally understood: it had been the look of disappointment, of unspoken words, of a message not received.
With the Hanshan Sect’s combined efforts, the protective formation stabilized, its defenses restored, silencing the demons’ taunts.
Tu Ming’s Left Protector spoke, his voice hesitant. “My Lord, the Saintess isn’t coming. Perhaps…”
Tu Ming glared at him, and the Left Protector quickly lowered his head. “The Saintess is always reliable, my Lord. But those Hanshan Sect cultivators are unpredictable. Perhaps she’s been… delayed.”
Before arriving, the Saintess had informed Tu Ming of the Wanhun Cauldron’s location within the Hanshan Sect, intending to retrieve it herself.
Tu Ming, however, had other plans. He wanted to test the cauldron’s power, and the assembled cultivators were the perfect sacrifice, a chance to cripple the Radiant Realm’s next generation.
He hadn’t considered targeting the elders. Witnessing the Radiant Realm’s weakened state, its future uncertain, was also part of his plan.
His smile faded, his expression hardening, his demeanor now that of a true Demon Lord. “The Hanshan Sect cowards hide behind their formation. And you all cower with them. Very well. What’s the closest sect to this place?”
The Left Protector, understanding his Lord’s unspoken intentions, replied, “The Zuo Yang Sect, my Lord. Then the Heavenly Heart Sect. And further south, the Green Pine Academy.”
The cultivators behind the formation paled, especially those from the mentioned sects.
Tu Ming waved a hand dismissively. “Then we’ll start with the Zuo Yang Sect. I’ll destroy a sect for every day you refuse to surrender the cauldron. Let’s see how long you can last.”
The Left Protector bowed. “Yes, my Lord!” He turned to relay the order.
The Zuo Yang Sect Leader’s face was ashen. “Despicable! Cowardly!”
While they were safe behind the formation, the other sects lacked such powerful defenses.
Many sect leaders and clan heads were present. Even if their elders emerged from seclusion, the damage would be done.
First the Zuo Yang Sect, then who?
Tu Ming’s voice boomed across the training grounds. “Surrender the Wanhun Cauldron. It’s not meant for the Radiant Realm.”
His words sparked panic among the cultivators behind the formation, their voices rising in protest, demanding Lizhu’s intervention.
“Sect Leader Lizhu, you have a protective formation! We don’t!”
“Are you willing to sacrifice our sects to protect your own?!”
A Hanshan Sect disciple retorted angrily, “What are you suggesting? That our Sect Leader lower the formation and let you all escape?!”
Lizhu, her lips pressed into a thin line, was about to respond when a voice, amplified by spiritual energy, echoed through the arena. “My possessions? You dare claim them as your own? Such audacity.”
The words brought a flicker of hope to the trapped cultivators, their gazes turning towards the source of the sound.
The voice sounded familiar. Tu Ming, perched on his dragon, frowned, trying to place it.
“Such arrogance. Show yourself!”
The crowd of cultivators parted, revealing a figure in purple, their gaze fixed on Tu Ming.
“Tu Ming, you dare speak to me like that?”
She was right. During Qingji’s reign, Tu Ming had been a minor official in her palace, required to address her as “Lord.”
A Demon Lord always had sycophants eager to defend his honor. Before Tu Ming could even react, one of his subordinates shouted, “Who are you?!”
“You dare address our Lord by name?! You’re courting death!”
Demonic cultivators were skilled in the art of verbal abuse, their insults far more direct and colorful than their Radiant Realm counterparts.
The cultivators behind Tao Ning exchanged amused glances, their expressions a mix of shock and amusement. She’s got guts.
The demonic cultivator, unaware he had just insulted the former Demon Lord, preened himself, expecting praise from his master.
But Tu Ming’s arrogant expression faltered, his face paling as he recognized the figure before him, his hand instinctively tightening on the dragon’s mane.
“Retreat!” he shrieked. “Retreat! Retreat!”
The demonic cultivators: ???
The dragon, its mane pulled painfully, roared in protest, its cry, amplified by its demonic energy, echoing through the arena, sending several cultivators reeling, blood trickling from their ears.
They had never seen their Lord so terrified. Confused, they hesitated, then began to retreat.
In their eyes, Demon Lord Tu Ming, a Body Integration cultivator, more powerful than even Lizhu, was invincible. Why was he so afraid of this unknown woman?
Tao Ning, her back to the crowd, a single figure holding them all at bay, glanced sideways at Lizhu. “Sect Leader.”
Lizhu immediately deactivated the formation.
Tu Ming, abandoning his carefully trained mount, turned and fled.
Facing Qingji directly?
He wasn’t suicidal. She had survived a tribulation and was now standing there, unharmed. He had no chance.
Tao Ning, with a flick of her wrist, unleashed a wave of spiritual energy, summoning the Wanhun Cauldron, which grew larger as it flew towards Tu Ming, engulfing him with a resounding boom.
The cauldron he had coveted for centuries was now his prison.
Tu Ming’s vision went black. When he opened his eyes again, he was surrounded by flames, trapped within the cauldron’s fiery depths.
As a Demon Lord, he wasn’t easily killed. Tao Ning, having captured their leader, now turned her attention to the remaining demons, a disorganized rabble without their leader’s guidance.
The demons, still confused, turned to flee, their morale shattered, their banners abandoned in their haste.
The Wanhun Cauldron, having finally tasted something… returned, bobbing happily.
Before it could receive its master’s praise, Tao Ning summoned Poheng, leaping into the air, and with a single, powerful strike, severed the dragon’s head.
A torrent of black blood rained down, staining the earth, withering the grass for miles around.
The massive head crashed to the ground, crushing several demons, the impact shaking the earth, sending the remaining demons fleeing.
But their escape was short-lived. The dragon’s massive body followed, its weight crushing those beneath it. Those who survived would be dealt with by the Hanshan Sect disciples cleaning the battlefield.
The single, earth-shattering blow, severing the dragon’s head, was a sight to behold.
The earlier arguments about demon spies and cauldrons were forgotten. This display of power was awe-inspiring.
A sword fanatic, too stunned to continue his pursuit of the fleeing demons, stared at Tao Ning, his voice filled with excitement. “What was that technique?! Is it the Hanshan Sect’s Carefree Sword? It must be!”
Lizhu hesitated, then shook her head. “No. That was my Junior Sister Cen’s self-created Thirteen Forms of Falling Snow.”
The sword fanatic: “I once fought True Person Cen. I almost defeated her. She used the Falling Snow technique, but it wasn’t as powerful… Is this a new form?”
Lizhu chuckled. “Perhaps it’s a matter of cultivation level.” Or perhaps it’s just my Grand Ancestor showing off.
With the main threat eliminated, the remaining demons, disorganized and demoralized, were easily dispatched by the other cultivators.
Lizhu deactivated the protective formation, leading her disciples down the mountain to pursue the fleeing demons. The Zuo Yang Sect cultivators rushed towards their sect, hoping to salvage what they could.
True Person Chang Xiang turned to Pang Xueting, her voice filled with disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me your savior was so powerful?”
Pang Xueting, near tears, replied, “Master, this isn’t the time for jokes.”
True Person Chang Xiang, a flicker of confusion in her eyes, said, “Oh.” Perhaps she was getting old, unable to keep up with the younger generation’s humor. Was that not a joke?
She turned, seeing Cen Dianshuang approaching, her own expression now a mix of apprehension and uncertainty. “Fellow Cultivator Cen…”
Cen Dianshuang, her face impassive, replied, “I also don’t know what just happened.”
True Person Chang Xiang: “…”
That expression… something’s wrong… but I can’t quite place it…
Demon Lord Tu Ming, arriving with confidence, had been swiftly and decisively defeated, most of his forces decimated.
Tao Ning stood on the mountain peak, Poheng in hand, her gaze fixed on the disciples cleaning the battlefield.
The Wanhun Cauldron, bobbing happily, circled her, complaining about the demon lord kicking it in the stomach.
This time, 520 offered no commentary, its attention focused on its host’s new, astronomical debt.
The moment the mission was completed, it had submitted its expense report, its efficiency honed by painful experience.
Its well-worn excuses, however, were once again accepted.
Tao Ning’s debt increased dramatically.
The minus sign before the number was a constant reminder of her status as the ultimate debtor.
520, despite knowing it wasn’t its own money, felt a pang of sympathy for its host, the long string of numbers a symbol of her romantic endeavors.
“Stomach ache?” Tao Ning glanced at the cauldron.
The Wanhun Cauldron, no longer daring to complain loudly in her presence, simply whimpered softly.
Tao Ning: “Deal with it.”
The cauldron, sensing its master’s displeasure, retreated into her sleeve, seeking a quiet corner to sulk.
No fighting with that fiery furnace today. My stomach hurts.
Tao Ning, unsure of what to do next, called out, “Sect Leader Lizhu.”
Lizhu, having overseen the initial cleanup, approached hesitantly, bowing respectfully. “I’m here, Grand Ancestor.”
Silence fell as Tao Ning, instead of speaking aloud, sent a private message to Lizhu.
Lizhu’s expression shifted rapidly, a whirlwind of emotions, before settling on a look of bewildered acceptance. She looked at Tao Ning, her gaze complex.
Tao Ning: “What?”
Lizhu, suppressing her countless questions, lowered her head. “As you command, Grand Ancestor.”
Tao Ning nodded, then, glancing at the Hanshan Sect’s mountain gate, flew away.
Cen Dianshuang, who had known this might happen, still found herself taking a step forward, as if to follow, then stopped, watching as Tao Ning disappeared into the distance.
She had no desire to linger, but her sect needed her.
She turned to descend the steps, intending to find Lizhu.
Below, Ling Huabi, shading her eyes, nudged Jin Jiamu. “Your ancestor is leaving.”
Jin Jiamu: …She’s definitely doing this on purpose. She had explained the incident with the veil, the accidental sword strike, but Ling Huabi refused to believe her.
Jin Jiamu sighed, not bothering to argue. “Yes, she’s gone. Who knows if she’ll ever return…” She paused, noticing Ling Huabi’s expression. “What’s wrong?”
Ling Huabi pointed behind her. “Elder Cen…”
Jin Jiamu’s face paled, and she turned, bowing quickly. “Elder Cen.”
“Mmm.”
Cen Dianshuang, outwardly calm, walked past them, her steps measured and controlled, but her aura radiated a storm of unspoken emotions.
Her carefully nurtured disciple had suddenly turned into their ancestor. The shock was understandable.
The demons at the gate, those who hadn’t fled, were being rounded up. Fortunately, they had arrived too late to cause significant damage to the nearby town, their desire for secrecy preventing a full-scale attack.
The disciple competition was likely canceled, the other sects preparing to leave.
Lizhu called out, stopping them. “Wait.”
The two words sent a shiver of apprehension through the assembled cultivators. This sounded like a reckoning.
Lizhu smiled, her expression carefully neutral. “You’re all curious about what Grand Ancestor just told me, aren’t you? I’ll relay her message.”
An elderly cultivator waved his hand dismissively. “That’s a Hanshan Sect internal matter. We shouldn’t interfere.”
Lizhu, however, her face as thick as a city wall, refused to be deterred.
“No, no, it concerns everyone. Grand Ancestor said…”
Tao Ning’s words echoed in her mind. “Don’t sugarcoat it. Tell them my services aren’t free. They’ll pay by the head. And if they dare try to cause trouble between me and Dianshuang, they’ll regret it.”
Of course, Lizhu couldn’t repeat the last part. She still had to maintain a certain decorum as Sect Leader.
Her voice, however, was flat, her tone betraying a hint of satisfaction. “She also said…”
Tao Ning’s voice, cold and sharp, echoed in her mind. “I won’t do this for free again. The Heavenly Heart Sect will pay double. If they refuse, I’ll collect it myself. If this were the past… Hmph.”
That single sound had sent shivers down Lizhu’s spine.
Silence fell over the training grounds, the cultivators struggling to reconcile the image of the aloof and powerful figure with the… petty demand for compensation.
But she was the former Demon Lord, a force to be reckoned with.
The Heavenly Heart Sect Leader protested. “Why should we pay double?”
Lizhu, giving him a sidelong glance, a smirk playing on her lips, replied, “Perhaps you should ask your own disciples how many of them were saved by my Grand Ancestor in Shadow City. Are you now refusing to repay that debt? If you have any objections, my Grand Ancestor will be happy to discuss the matter with you personally.”
The Heavenly Heart Sect Leader’s expression shifted rapidly, his gaze lingering on the severed dragon head and the scattered remains of its body. He conceded.
Lizhu, her gaze sweeping over the assembled cultivators, her smile not reaching her eyes, asked, “Any other objections?”
Cen Dianshuang: …That sounds exactly like something Tao Ning would do.
Whether you like it or not, I’ll do as I please.
The cultivators: …Objections? Who would dare object?
You Hanshan Sect hypocrites! Releasing your ancestor without warning! You should have told us not to provoke her!
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