Chapter 78: Disciple and Wife
That day, Tao Ning departed the Hanshan Sect in full view of the assembled cultivators, leaving behind a single, fleeting image.
Her actions sparked countless rumors and speculations throughout the Radiant Realm, those unaware of her true identity stunned by the revelations.
The unknown Mahayana cultivator who had perished in the tribulation decades ago was actually the infamous Demon Lord Qingji. And now, she had returned, alive and well, not only surviving the tribulation but also revealed as the Grand Ancestor of the Hanshan Sect.
The owner of the Curious Tales Pavilion had once been a failed scholar. At thirty, he had stumbled upon a cultivation opportunity, entering the upper realm of the Radiant Realm.
The Radiant Realm wasn’t solely populated by cultivators. It was divided into two distinct realms: the upper realm, where cultivators resided, and the lower realm, a world of mortals, ruled by kings and nobles, its spiritual energy thin, unsuitable for cultivation.
The scholar’s true talent lay not in academics or cultivation, but in storytelling. Arriving in the upper realm alone, seeking a way to survive, he began writing stories.
The cultivators, focused solely on their cultivation, initially dismissed his efforts, unaware of the power of stories. But he persevered, eventually achieving renown.
Thus, the Curious Tales Pavilion was born.
Recently, the pavilion had been attracting large crowds.
A cultivator, tossing a spirit stone onto the stage, called out, “So, whose ancestor is Qingji? The Hanshan Sect’s, or the Demonic Realm’s?”
The storyteller hesitated. “Both, perhaps?”
Another cultivator, younger and more eager, asked, “Now that her cultivation is restored, will she return to the Demonic Realm, reclaim her throne, and punish the traitors?”
The storyteller: “The traitors are already dead. Slain at the foot of the Hanshan Sect’s mountain. Rivers of blood, cries of anguish… It was a glorious sight!”
From a private booth on the second floor, a cultivator tossed down a spirit pearl, his servant relaying the question. “They said she perished in the tribulation, her body and soul scattered. How did she survive the Nine Heavens Tribulation?”
The storyteller slammed his gavel on the table. “That’s a story for another time. It all began when she was young, a mere disciple, traveling the world…”
The true reason, however, was known only to Qingji herself. The audience, listening intently, realized the storyteller had skillfully avoided answering the question.
Stories were just stories, but the questions they sparked often reflected deeper anxieties.
The other sects, recovering from their initial shock, now sought answers from Lizhu.
Lizhu, spreading her hands innocently, her expression carefully neutral, replied, “I’d also like to know where my Grand Ancestor is. Tell me, and I’ll tell you why she’s returned to the Hanshan Sect.”
Her counter-question silenced them.
Qingji came and went as she pleased. If they could track her, they wouldn’t be asking.
A particularly persistent Clan Head, however, refused to give up. “She’s your ancestor! Surely you have a way to contact her!”
Lizhu, mirroring his insistent tone, nodded eagerly. “You’re right! I’ll contact her immediately and have her explain everything personally!”
The cultivators: …No! Please don’t!
Lizhu sighed. “As you know, my Grand Ancestor is unpredictable. She comes and goes as she pleases. But if she returns, I’ll be sure to relay your message.”
The cultivators: …Just tell us what you want. We’ll pay. Just keep your ancestor under control.
The Hanshan Sect, renowned for its composure and decorum, its Sect Leader known for her gentle nature, was now revealing its less refined side.
Their attempts to glean information from Lizhu were met with skillful deflections and blatant misdirection. Frustrated, they dispersed.
Lizhu, the communication jade resting on her table, her playful smile fading, her expression turning serious, wasn’t lying. She truly didn’t know where Tao Ning was, or what she was planning.
Tapping her fingers on the table, lost in thought, she suddenly realized something.
What was it…?
“Dianshuang!”
A disciple, sorting through documents, watched as the Sect Leader jumped to her feet, muttering something under her breath, then vanished in a flash of red.
Tao Ning, the target of a sect-wide search, hadn’t gone far. Hidden in plain sight on Wangshu Peak, she spent her days peeling lotus seeds for Cen Dianshuang.
She didn’t even use her spiritual energy, preferring to do it manually, using the time to chat and observe.
After a few days, growing bored of watching the swirling mist, her gaze settled on the lotus pond, a thoughtful expression on her face.
Cen Dianshuang, seeing her lost in thought, didn’t disturb her. When she returned, Tao Ning was tinkering with the Flame Dragon Furnace.
Having passed by several times, curious about the process, she finally approached, watching as Tao Ning’s nimble fingers, moving with the grace of a musician playing a complex melody, disassembled a newly formed object, occasionally letting out a soft hum of contemplation, adding something from her robes.
Cen Dianshuang had never witnessed artifact refining before, assuming it was a tedious and boring process, but watching Tao Ning’s focused expression, so different from her usual casual demeanor, piqued her interest.
And the sight of those skillful hands, their movements precise and elegant, was mesmerizing.
She leaned closer, her face initially near Tao Ning’s shoulder, then moving past it, her gaze fixed on Tao Ning’s work.
“Hmm?”
It wasn’t like that before. How did it suddenly become a miniature crystal boat?
Tao Ning, sensing her presence, turned slightly, her eyes questioning. Cen Dianshuang, her own gaze fixed on the object in Tao Ning’s hands, didn’t answer.
A strand of her dark hair brushed against Tao Ning’s sleeve, her lips, slightly parted in concentration, a vibrant red, like ripe fruit, inviting attention.
Before Cen Dianshuang could fully comprehend the transformation, her chin was gently grasped, her face turned, and her lips brushed by Tao Ning’s in a quick, light kiss.
Cen Dianshuang, startled, felt neither shyness nor surprise, just a sense of normalcy.
As if nothing had changed, their differences in status and cultivation irrelevant, their connection unchanged.
The anxiety she had been carrying for days dissipated, replaced by a simple, reassuring thought: She’s still her.
Tao Ning, returning her attention to the miniature boat, continued her work, her expression focused.
Cen Dianshuang remained, watching, her face eventually resting against Tao Ning’s shoulder, her own attention wandering.
Cultivators didn’t experience fatigue, but watching Tao Ning’s intricate work had a relaxing effect. She leaned against her disciple, enjoying the quiet intimacy.
If she were more… proactive, she might have wrapped her arms around Tao Ning’s waist.
But she suspected that if she did, the object being refined wouldn’t be the only thing molded.
Tao Ning, her focus unwavering, as if even a collapsing mountain wouldn’t distract her, suddenly turned, kissing Cen Dianshuang again.
This kiss, however, wasn’t a fleeting touch, but a deep, lingering pressure, their lips parting slightly, a soft moan echoing in the quiet room.
Cen Dianshuang’s carefully maintained composure crumbled, her body relaxing against Tao Ning’s, her breath coming in short gasps, her eyes slightly unfocused.
A hand gently stroked her hair, then, moving upwards, undid her carefully arranged bun, her long, dark hair cascading down her back.
Cen Dianshuang, too relaxed to protest, felt her hair being restyled.
After all these years, she still hadn’t learned any other hairstyles, mostly out of disinterest. Without Tao Ning, she simply replicated her master’s style.
She reached up, not to touch her hair, but the hairpin, its warmth unfamiliar. It wasn’t her usual wooden hairpin.
Summoning a mirror, she looked at her reflection. “What is this?”
Tao Ning, taking her hand, kissing her earlobe softly, also glanced at the hairpin, a delicate silver bird carrying a crescent moon. “Do you like it?”
The elegant hairpin complemented Cen Dianshuang’s white robes, its delicate design enhancing her ethereal beauty.
Cen Dianshuang, admiring it in the mirror, nodded. “It’s beautiful. I like it.”
Tao Ning: “I made it a while ago. I thought it would suit you. I modified it yesterday.”
Cen Dianshuang: “Modified it? I didn’t see you working on it.”
Tao Ning: “It was a surprise.”
That made sense.
Cen Dianshuang continued to admire the hairpin in the mirror.
Tao Ning, her fingers twirling a strand of Cen Dianshuang’s hair, said softly, “With this, even ten Cycle Mirrors won’t reveal your true form. And it contains three of my full-powered attacks. No one can harm you.”
Cen Dianshuang corrected her gently, “It’s called the Cycle Mirror.”
It was a Demonic Beast Realm treasure, not some random toy.
Tao Ning shrugged. “It’s round. Same difference.”
After a moment, she added, “Your tribulation will be difficult. I’ll see if I can improve it further, make it easier for you.”
No longer pretending, she shared her thoughts freely, her unconventional ideas both intriguing and slightly bewildering to Cen Dianshuang.
Unlike other sword cultivators, whose approach to both combat and tribulations was straightforward, relying solely on their swords, Tao Ning’s methods were creative.
After another moment of quiet intimacy, the crystal boat, forgotten, lay abandoned somewhere. It didn’t matter. She could always make another one.
Tao Ning: “It’s too quiet here. I’ll make you some toys.”
Cen Dianshuang, her mind still slightly hazy from the kisses, hadn’t quite heard what Tao Ning said, simply replying, “As you wish.”
A day later, her simple, almost spartan cave dwelling had been transformed into a miniature paradise.
Cen Dianshuang almost didn’t recognize the place she had once called home, a simple cave with a meditation cushion.
Tao Ning, despite her adaptability, had a refined taste, a fondness for beauty and comfort.
Without resources, she didn’t complain, accepting whatever was available, even beggar’s rags. But given the opportunity, she transformed her surroundings to suit her preferences.
The lotus pond on the mountain peak, its blossoms large and vibrant, nourished by the peak’s abundant spiritual energy, a small boat drifting among the leaves.
A figure sat in the boat, her gaze fixed on something in her hands.
Seeing Cen Dianshuang, she beckoned. “Why don’t you come over?”
Cen Dianshuang, transforming into a white bird, flew across the pond, landing gracefully in the boat, then shifting back to her human form.
Being able to reveal her true form so freely was liberating. And Tao Ning’s casual acceptance of her transformation was even more reassuring.
Tao Ning picked up a fallen feather, twirling it between her fingers, then tucking it into her hair.
Tilting her head, she asked, “Does it look good?”
Cen Dianshuang, always honest, replied, “It looks… a bit strange.”
Tao Ning straightened her head, frowning slightly. “Strange? I used to do this all the time. No one ever said it looked strange.”
Cen Dianshuang considered the difference. “Perhaps because you were younger then? Anything looked good on you.”
Tao Ning clutched her chest dramatically, her voice filled with mock despair. “Dianshuang, you’ve taken me for granted! You think I’m old!”
Cen Dianshuang: “!!!” I swear, I didn’t mean it like that!
Somehow, Tao Ning knew exactly how to push her buttons, her words sending a wave of panic through Cen Dianshuang, who almost jumped out of the boat.
Pulled back down by Tao Ning, Cen Dianshuang reassured her, her voice slightly flustered, that she didn’t think Tao Ning was old, promising never to say such a thing again.
Tao Ning, satisfied, had secured her right to wear bird feathers in her hair.
Cen Dianshuang, however, suspected this wasn’t the end of it.
Tao Ning, sitting opposite her, began peeling lotus seeds again, a small pile forming on her lap, a jade bowl resting on the small table between them.
She expertly removed the bitter heart of a lotus seed, popping the sweet flesh into her mouth, her expression relaxing.
Peeling another one, she offered it to Cen Dianshuang. “These are especially sweet. Try one.”
Her hand, its skin smooth and pale, its fingers long and slender, their tips faintly pink, was beautiful, its movements graceful and precise.
Cen Dianshuang took the offered seed, her eyes brightening. “Very sweet.”
“Here’s another one.” Tao Ning continued peeling and feeding her, one after another.
They seemed to forget Cen Dianshuang had hands of her own, their movements a silent dance of intimacy, their reflections in the water merging, their shadows intertwined.
Like lovers, their affection reflected in the rippling water.
The small boat drifted further into the lotus blossoms, its occupants surrounded by their sweet fragrance, their bodies eventually relaxing, their eyes closing as they drifted off to sleep.
When Lizhu, finally remembering her missing junior sister, arrived at Wangshu Peak, she found Cen Dianshuang sitting in a crystal pavilion at the center of the lotus pond, gazing at the sky.
Lizhu paused, her mind searching for a memory. Was Wangshu Peak always like this?
Such trivial details rarely occupied her thoughts. She approached the pavilion. “I haven’t seen you in days. Hiding here, I see.”
Cen Dianshuang turned, holding a jade bowl. “Senior Sister, would you like some?”
Not wanting to take the winding path across the pond, Lizhu flew over, landing gracefully in the pavilion. She noticed the small boat drifting among the lotus blossoms.
“A crystal boat? How… unique. I’ve never seen anything like it. A high-level artifact, I presume.”
She sat down beside Cen Dianshuang, picking up a lotus seed. “Your lotus blossoms are ripe? Already? It’s not the right season.”
Cen Dianshuang shook her head. “These aren’t from my pond. They were picked elsewhere.”
Lizhu popped the seed into her mouth, its sweetness spreading through her, a refreshing burst of spiritual energy calming her mind.
Taking another seed, she asked, “Where did you find them?”
Cen Dianshuang, holding the bowl, turned and called out, “Where did you find these? I’ve never tasted them before.”
There’s someone else here?
Lizhu, puzzled, asked, “Who are you talking to?”
A familiar figure emerged from Cen Dianshuang’s cave, their demeanor relaxed and casual. It was none other than their Grand Ancestor.
Lizhu’s hand trembled, the lotus seed nearly slipping from her fingers. A terrifying thought crossed her mind.
No way…
Lotus seeds peeled by Grand Ancestor… and I just ate some…
Hearing their voices, Tao Ning approached, a white feather adorning her hair, swaying gently as she walked.
Lizhu stood up abruptly, her expression a mix of shock and nervousness. She had come to talk to Cen Dianshuang about Tao Ning, and now… here she was!
She hadn’t even noticed.
Tao Ning, her steps seemingly unhurried, suddenly appeared at the foot of the pavilion, ascending the steps gracefully.
Lizhu bowed respectfully. “Greetings, Grand Ancestor.”
Perspective was everything. Cen Dianshuang, compared to her flustered senior sister, was surprisingly calm, even managing to set down her bowl before standing up.
They had kissed, shared intimate moments. This was nothing.
Tao Ning reached the top of the steps. “No need for formalities, Sect Leader Lizhu. Treat me as you always have.”
Lizhu: …That’s… not possible. Not even if her life depended on it.
Tao Ning, gesturing towards the empty seats, said, “We’re family. Let’s sit and chat. What did you ask me earlier?”
Cen Dianshuang repeated the question.
Tao Ning smiled, her voice gentle. “I stumbled upon a secret realm while Dianshuang was in seclusion. The lotus blossoms were ripe, so I picked them. Would you like some?”
Lizhu forced a smile. “No, thank you, Grand Ancestor.”
Tao Ning, however, placed a handful of lotus seeds in Lizhu’s lap. “Don’t be shy. We’re family.”
Lizhu’s mind went blank, not because of Tao Ning’s words, but because of the white feather in her hair.
It looked familiar, its subtle shimmer reminiscent of her junior sister’s true form.
Tao Ning, noticing Lizhu’s gaze, smiled faintly, brushing her hair back over her shoulder.
Lizhu: …It really is. She remembered Tao Ning shielding Cen Dianshuang on the platform, her concern genuine, her protectiveness undeniable.
But wearing a feather so openly was rather bold.
The image made Lizhu’s eyes ache, as if she had been staring at the sun.
Composing herself, she asked cautiously, “Grand Ancestor, what are your plans? If you wish, you can reside in the palace within Verdant Valley.”
Tao Ning, understanding her concern, decided to reassure the worried Sect Leader. “I have no plans. And I’m happy here on Wangshu Peak. I might travel occasionally, explore the three realms.”
Lizhu and Cen Dianshuang, speaking in unison, echoed, “Travel?”
Tao Ning stood up, stretching languidly. “The world is vast. Why limit myself?”
Lizhu: “News of Tu Ming’s death will reach the Demonic Realm soon. Without a leader, and with your return… they might be restless.”
Tao Ning: “Their strongest forces are gone. The rest are just a rabble. I have no desire for conflict.”
Lizhu, hearing this, relaxed slightly. She had never truly understood her Grand Ancestor’s temperament, only knowing her as someone who acted on impulse.
Tao Ning: “I’ll only kill those who deserve to be killed. Don’t worry.”
Killing, for her, was effortless. She simply didn’t want to be bothered.
As the Hanshan Sect’s Grand Ancestor, her actions, however ruthless, couldn’t be questioned. Any resentment would be directed at the sect itself.
Lizhu’s expression turned anxious. “That’s not what I meant, Grand Ancestor.”
Tao Ning waved a hand dismissively. “I know. I’m just telling you.”
There was no need for elaborate explanations with intelligent people. Lizhu understood. Her Grand Ancestor had no desire for conquest or power, simply seeking peace and quiet.
As long as they weren’t provoked, the Radiant Realm would remain undisturbed.
Leave a Reply