Chapter 48: Disciple and Wife p2
Everyone knew Sect Leader Lizhu was fiercely protective. Offending her directly might be forgiven, but harming someone under her protection was a guaranteed invitation for fiery retribution.
Lizhu: “Then what happened?”
Frost Flowers bloomed once every hundred years, their blossoms lasting only an hour before withering. Their blooming cycle followed no discernible pattern, making their nectar incredibly rare. The patch in Frost Moon Valley had been discovered by the previous sect leader, who had deciphered its unpredictable rhythm.
The nectar, when refined into an elixir, enhanced Cen Dianshuang’s cultivation and masked her true aura. That’s why she collected it every hundred years.
But the nectar was also sweet, delicious in tea, pastries, or even eaten raw.
While Immortal Dianshuang now instilled fear in the Hanshan Sect, she had been a rather… spirited child. Lizhu often used Frost Flower nectar tea to soothe her.
This had instilled in Cen Dianshuang a lifelong habit of enjoying a cup of nectar tea every morning.
Cen Dianshuang, having no intention of hiding anything, recounted her recent experiences.
However, she wasn’t a natural storyteller, her account dry and factual, focusing on the suspect’s appearance and key events, downplaying the fact that she had been eating the girl’s food for days.
Lizhu listened, taking a sip of her spiritual tea. “A minor spy. Just eliminate her.”
Cen Dianshuang, cradling the delicate teacup, considered this, then shook her head. “Her motives are unclear. We have no proof, no justification. Taking a life unnecessarily is wrong.”
Lizhu nodded. “That’s true.”
An ordinary spy could be dealt with easily, but one possessing a Golden Jade Silk robe warranted further investigation.
Lizhu: “Unraveling the mystery might prove beneficial.”
Cen Dianshuang: “She intends to become my disciple.” To kill my other disciple.
Cen Dianshuang had never taken a disciple, nominal or otherwise. She had no attendants, no companions, preferring solitude.
This was another reason for the fear she inspired. Wangshu Peak, her residence, was devoid of disciples, leaving the others to speculate about her temperament, their fear growing with every whispered rumor.
Lizhu choked on her tea, coughing as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve. “She wants to become your disciple?”
Cen Dianshuang: “Yes.”
Without hesitation, Lizhu declared, “Absolutely not. Wangshu Peak cannot accept such a disciple, especially someone suspected of being from the Demonic Realm. Bring her back, and I’ll deal with her myself.”
Cen Dianshuang agreed. Wangshu Peak was no place for a potential spy.
Lizhu’s expression hardened, her demeanor shifting to that of the Sect Leader. “The two realms have enjoyed peace for over a thousand years since Qingji. The new Demon Lord is restless, constantly provoking us. It’s time to remind them that the Hanshan Sect is not to be trifled with.”
Qingji’s name hadn’t been spoken in the Radiant Realm for a thousand years. Those who knew of her connection to the Hanshan Sect were mostly dead, except for Lizhu and the elders.
Even Lizhu had only seen Qingji from afar, as a child, addressing her as Grand Ancestor.
Cen Dianshuang, having joined the sect much later, only knew her name and reputation as an unconventional and impulsive figure.
A few days later, Cen Dianshuang descended the mountain on the Sect Leader’s orders. The Hanshan Sect’s fifty-year disciple acceptance ceremony had begun.
Though leading the expedition, she wasn’t in charge of the proceedings. Her role was primarily to maintain order and prevent any disturbances.
Cen Dianshuang’s name carried weight. Those hoping to curry favor or exploit connections to bypass the tests quickly abandoned their plans upon learning of her presence.
Best not to cross Immortal Dianshuang. Better to give her a wide berth.
On the first day of testing, Cen Dianshuang made a brief appearance at the Ascending Immortal Tower. Surprisingly, she didn’t see the familiar figure among the young hopefuls.
Initially, she wondered if she had misremembered the girl’s face.
But she couldn’t sense the girl’s aura either. The grey-clad young woman always had a sly glint in her fox-like eyes, an air of casual indifference about her. Cen Dianshuang circulated through the crowd, met with looks of awe and apprehension, but didn’t find the person she was looking for.
Perhaps the girl had reconsidered?
It was possible. She might have found a more suitable opportunity elsewhere.
One less potential problem was a good thing. No one wanted more spies in their sect. Cen Dianshuang decided to let it go.
However, after several days without any sign of the girl, she felt a flicker of annoyance, a sense of being… played.
—She had picked up the term from the girl herself. It seemed to imply deception.
Outside the city gates, Tao Ning muttered, “Is the protagonist late? The ceremony ends tomorrow. They’ll be taking the selected disciples on a trial soon. I still haven’t seen Xiao Haoran.”
Xiao Haoran was the protagonist’s name. She had discreetly questioned the other candidates, but none of them were him.
And the arrogant young master hadn’t caused any trouble, simply maintaining a stony expression as Tao Ning passed, trying to hide his disdain.
Not particularly well-mannered. Tao Ning, pretending not to notice the strategically placed rock at his feet, watched as he tripped, landing face-first in the dirt before scrambling to his feet and fleeing into the nearest inn, his face burning with shame.
Tao Ning stood up, intending to stretch her cramped legs, when a wave of dizziness washed over her.
She grabbed a tree trunk for support, remembering that she hadn’t rested properly since crippling her cultivation. Her blood sugar was probably low.
Her plan had always prioritized intercepting the protagonist over becoming Cen Dianshuang’s disciple. She had been staking out the place for days, but he was nowhere to be found.
Fearing she might collapse before completing her mission, she decided to give up and head into the city for food. Her rations were gone.
“Who knew the Supreme Ruler of the Demonic Realm would be susceptible to low blood sugar?” Tao Ning muttered, chewing on a sweetgrass stalk as she walked towards the city.
The Hanshan Sect’s outer territory was larger than a city.
520: 【I also didn’t expect you to cripple your cultivation so readily.】
Tao Ning: “So it worked out perfectly. Time for Plan B. Always have a backup.”
520, genuinely puzzled, asked, 【Aren’t you worried about the plan failing?】
Tao Ning shrugged. “It’s simple. If it fails, I’ll come up with another plan.” She would tunnel into the Hanshan Sect if necessary.
Just as she declared this, another wave of dizziness hit her. She could barely walk, finding a secluded corner to crouch down.
She suddenly missed that bowl of porridge from Ten Directions City.
Her vision blurred, the sounds around her fading. She thought she heard someone say, “What’s wrong with Immortal Dianshuang?”
Pristine white robes appeared before her eyes, a pale sword hanging at the waist. Only a cultivator would dress like that. Without thinking, Tao Ning grabbed the hem of the robe.
Her vision was too blurry to see clearly. She didn’t care who it was, or if the robe was clean. She just needed this person to buy her a steamed bun.
What did mortals call cultivators again…?
Oh, right. Immortal Master.
She wanted to say, “Immortal Master, hungry, food.”
But looking up at the cool, serene face, the distinctive beauty mark on the forehead, her mind went blank, and the words came out garbled. “Master, hungry, food.”
Then, her eyes closed, and she slumped to the ground.
Cen Dianshuang, accosted by a beggar: “…”
The girl had collapsed dramatically, oblivious to the shocked stares of the onlookers, which quickly turned to admiration.
She dared to touch Immortal Dianshuang’s robe! Such audacity! Even Cen Dianshuang’s own disciples kept a respectful distance.
Whispers rippled through the crowd, curious eyes turning towards the scene.
Cen Dianshuang was no less surprised. Quickly sensing something amiss, she reached out to check the girl’s pulse, arriving at an even more unbelievable conclusion.
No cultivation? Unconscious from hunger?
What had happened to her in just a few days?
Had she mistaken her for someone else?
Ignoring the stares, the ethereal Immortal Dianshuang lowered herself gracefully, studying the unconscious girl for a moment before reaching out.
Her slender fingers found the girl’s pulse, her brow furrowing slightly. She then checked the girl’s neck, her expression shifting to one of surprise.
She saw the familiar edge of the Heaven-grade robe, confirming her initial assessment.
Looking at the girl’s face, a single tear rolled down her cheek, landing on the girl’s fingertip.
“…!”
Now, not only the crowd, but Cen Dianshuang herself was shocked. She touched her wet cheek, as if questioning the tear’s origin.
What was going on?
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