Chapter 68: Disciple and Wife
At the entrance to his cave, the cultivator’s face paled. “How…?”
He raised his flute to his lips, its shrill notes echoing through the night, but this time, there was no response.
Tao Ning knew. His Zombie King was dead.
Withdrawing her moon-white sword from the shattered skull of the Zombie King, Cen Dianshuang turned to the stunned disciples.
“Have you seen a woman named Tao Ning? She carries a jade token with the character ‘Frost.’”
She stood before them like a celestial being, her movements powerful, her techniques vaguely familiar.
Her aura, however, was overwhelming, demanding obedience. They looked at her like mice facing a tiger, too terrified to speak.
Cen Dianshuang’s brow furrowed. “You haven’t seen her?”
She had sensed Tao Ning’s location the moment she emerged from seclusion, surprised to find her not at the Hanshan Sect, but in this remote city.
Ignoring her senior sister’s message, she had followed the signal from Tao Ning’s jade token, arriving in this desolate, ruined city.
The resentment clinging to the city was thick, a palpable weight, the result of centuries of suffering.
Even cultivators struggled to survive in such an environment, let alone mortals.
One of the female disciples, startled by Cen Dianshuang’s intense gaze, pointed hesitantly down the street. “She… she went that way.”
Cen Dianshuang: “Thank you.” With a graceful leap, she soared into the sky, disappearing in a flash of white.
Her speed left the disciples speechless.
So fast! We couldn’t even see her move!
The disciple who had pointed the way stammered, “You’re welcome, Senior…”
Then, someone realized something. “Wait, you didn’t even ask if she was a friend or foe! Why did you tell her where to go?!”
“She… she looked at me… I just… I couldn’t lie.”
“She looked furious. What if she’s not looking for someone, but seeking revenge?”
“Now that you mention it, she sounded… tense when she said the Senior’s name. Like she was gritting her teeth.”
“Should we follow?”
“We might need to… intervene.”
They set off, running down the street.
Their spiritual energy was depleted, their supply of replenishing pills exhausted. They had no choice but to run.
The cultivator, his face contorted in rage, threw down his flute. “Dead! Already dead!”
Years of planning, ruined. But with Demon Lord Qingji standing before him, it wasn’t a complete loss.
He bowed respectfully. “My Lord, that troublesome cultivator is approaching. What are your orders?”
520, surprised by this unexpected encounter with someone who knew Qingji, and the imminent arrival of Cen Dianshuang, panicked. This could be bad.
It frantically tried to contact Tao Ning. 【Oh no! Are you about to be exposed?!】
Tao Ning, preparing to mute 520 again, paused.
520 quickly added, 【Wait! I have another update! Your progress bar is active!】
This was relevant. “What’s the progress?”
520: 【Current progress: 98.9%. Almost 99%! A bit slower than the last world.】
Ignoring the fact that the progress bar in the previous world had been delayed, it was indeed slower, slow enough to be noticeable.
The brief exchange with 520 was imperceptible. The cultivator awaited his Lord’s command.
Tao Ning: “What do you suggest?”
The cultivator, his face lighting up, assuming he had finally earned his Lord’s favor, replied eagerly, “My Lord’s return must remain a secret. Those Radiant Realm cultivators are prone to overreacting. We should eliminate these… witnesses… and return to the Demonic Realm. You will reclaim your throne!”
Tao Ning nodded. “You’re right.”
The cultivator, beaming, gestured towards his cave. “The Wanhun Cauldron is beneath my cave. I’ll lead you there, my Lord, and break the seal.”
Tao Ning: “That won’t be necessary.”
The cultivator’s face fell. “Why not?” He assumed his true motives had been discovered.
He wasn’t wrong. Tao Ning, raising her hand, sent a wave of spiritual energy into the cave.
The sheer power of the attack revealed her true cultivation level.
“You!” The cultivator shrieked, leaping back, drawing his spirit weapon. “I knew it! Your cultivation has regressed! Qingji, you’ve finally fallen!”
He shook his bell, and a swarm of vengeful spirits, their forms like swirling black smoke, their mouths open in silent screams, emerged, flying towards Tao Ning.
“Qingji, you said nine pairs of children weren’t enough to awaken the Wanhun Cauldron. But your soul… that will be sufficient.”
Tao Ning drew her sword, its tip pointed at the cultivator. “You can try.”
The cultivator specialized in manipulating ghosts, having sacrificed the entire population of Shadow City centuries ago to fuel his spirit weapon, the Heavenly Crippled Bell. He had been gravely injured during the ensuing siege, forced into hiding.
The attacking cultivators, claiming compassion, hadn’t bothered to eliminate the city’s remaining inhabitants, simply sealing the city and leaving.
They had intended to let the city destroy itself, the resentment energy dissipating as the bodies decayed.
Essentially, they couldn’t be bothered.
These self-righteous cultivators, always preaching about slaying demons and showing mercy, rarely acted unless their own interests were threatened.
This, however, had allowed him to recover and perfect his spirit weapon.
The swarm of spirits couldn’t reach Tao Ning. Dodging their attacks with ease, she didn’t flee, but turned, her sword slicing through the black mist, dispersing it.
Lightning spiritual energy was a bane of evil creatures, the Demonic Realm’s least favorite.
Even ghosts feared it, its power akin to heavenly lightning, their destruction absolute, their souls scattered, preventing reincarnation.
Before the cultivator could launch another attack, he felt the ground tremble.
He wasn’t mistaken. Not just his cave, but the entire mountain was shaking, as if something massive was about to emerge.
Dark clouds gathered overhead, the river churning, the moans of the undead echoing through the city, the world reacting to the Wanhun Cauldron’s awakening.
He had spent centuries watching over the cauldron, anticipating its return, but now, as it was finally happening, it wasn’t under his control.
Continuing his attack, he couldn’t help but ask, his voice filled with doubt, “Are you really Qingji? Are you… her descendant? Why is your cultivation so low? Weren’t you killed by the tribulation lightning?”
Tao Ning, her attacks relentless, reached him, her gaze cold, her voice calm. “You seem to know a lot.”
A chill ran down the cultivator’s spine. He understood the unspoken message.
She wanted him dead.
His first instinct was to flee.
Losing one’s composure was a sign of weakness, an invitation for defeat.
He turned to run, but it was too late. A flash of lightning, and Poheng’s heavy blade, usually too dull to even chop wood without spiritual enhancement, nearly cleaved him in two.
His spiritual core shattered, beyond repair. He coughed up a mouthful of black blood, collapsing to the ground.
Tao Ning, not stopping there, placed her hand on his forehead, incinerating his soul, preventing reincarnation and any possibility of his memories being accessed.
He died with his eyes wide open in disbelief.
He had once cheated death, his soul escaping his dying body and possessing a mortal, allowing him to cultivate again. This time, however, there would be no second chances.
Tao Ning, withdrawing her hand, looked at the cave, then at the sky.
The jade token at her waist pulsed, its warmth intensifying as Cen Dianshuang drew closer.
A series of crashes and rumbles echoed from the cave, the ground shaking violently, the tremors spreading through Shadow City.
The Wanhun Cauldron, sensing its master’s spiritual energy, was breaking free.
520 panicked. 【The cauldron! It’s coming! What are we going to do?! Your master is almost here!】
Its hopelessly romantic host, if driven to despair by a misunderstanding, would likely destroy the entire Radiant Realm.
Tao Ning made a decision. “If there’s no other choice, then we’ll face it head-on.”
520: 【What are you going to do?】
Tao Ning, channeling more spiritual energy into the collapsing cave, replied, “Midwife.”
520: 【…You’re joking, right?】 Please don’t joke at a time like this!
It had never believed the online reviews describing Tao Ning as “unpredictable.” Now, it believed. It was officially Tao Ning’s loyal, if slightly terrified, companion.
Tao Ning, her hand glowing, a torrent of spiritual energy pouring from her meridians, said, “Who’s joking?”
The tremors intensified, spreading beyond the city walls, reaching the river, its waves churning violently, the disturbance felt even in the neighboring cities.
The birth of a divine artifact was a significant event, its power felt even by the cultivators in the distant Heavenly Heart Sect.
Xiao Haoran, sheltering within a house, lost his footing, tumbling to the ground. He steadied himself with his saber. “What’s happening? An earthquake?”
He wasn’t sensitive to the unusual spiritual fluctuations, but Er Lan, having lived in the Demonic Realm for centuries, recognized the aura immediately, her expression turning grim. “That aura… It’s the Wanhun Cauldron. It’s awakening.”
Xiao Haoran’s eyes widened. “It’s awakening? But I’m not there yet! How can it…?” Did the Heavenly Book lie to me?
A deafening roar echoed through Shadow City, leaving everyone momentarily deafened, their ears ringing, the world around them a muffled blur.
Their hearing gradually returned, and the disciples running through the streets hesitated, exchanging uneasy glances.
“Should we continue?”
Pang Xueting, after a moment of thought, nodded resolutely. “Yes. We have to. Even if we die, we need to know the truth.”
“Senior Sister Pang is right!”
Inspired by her words, they continued their journey.
Cen Dianshuang deflected a shower of falling debris with a wave of her sleeve, standing on Xuan Ying, her gaze fixed on the source of the commotion, her expression grim.
Below, amidst the dust and rubble, the Wanhun Cauldron, having shattered its prison, hovered in mid-air, its aura radiating outwards, then slowly descended.
She had sensed the disturbance from afar, but had come anyway.
And she had found the person she was looking for.
Tao Ning stood before the ruined cave, her back to Cen Dianshuang, a small cauldron resting in her outstretched hand.
Turning, she met Cen Dianshuang’s gaze. For the first time, Tao Ning saw no smile on her master’s face.
Her own eyes, usually bright and playful, were now cold and calm, her gaze steady, almost aloof.
She stood there, holding the cauldron, as if waiting.
After a long moment, a faint smile curved her lips. “Why are you just standing there? Come here.”
Cen Dianshuang landed gracefully, walking towards Tao Ning without hesitation.
The Wanhun Cauldron wasn’t simply a demonic or spiritual artifact. It could be both.
Its creator had been a spiritual cultivator, its first user the ghost cultivator Patriarch Wanhun, but its true master had been Qingji.
Her senior sister had told her this, adding that the cauldron, having consumed countless souls, was filled with resentment, even as a spiritual artifact.
Such resentment could influence its user, which was one of the reasons Qingji had sealed it away. She didn’t like losing control.
Cen Dianshuang’s hand touched Tao Ning’s, her fingers enveloped in a warm, firm grasp. “Your hands are cold. Just emerged from seclusion?”
Cen Dianshuang glanced at the cauldron in Tao Ning’s other hand, feeling her grip tighten, then looked back at her disciple.
Tao Ning’s voice held a hint of… something… Cen Dianshuang couldn’t quite name. “Why aren’t you talking to me?”
Cen Dianshuang: “I am. I’m just… thinking about how to answer.”
Tao Ning’s smile returned, her eyes crinkling at the corners, a flash of her earlier, more innocent self. “You’re still the same. You can’t lie.”
Cen Dianshuang began, “I…”
Tao Ning shook her head, interrupting her. “It’s fine. I know you. You came to find me the moment you emerged from seclusion, didn’t you?”
It was phrased as a question, but her tone was certain. And she was right.
Cen Dianshuang, slightly nervous, not wanting to forcibly take the cauldron and risk injuring Tao Ning, simply nodded. “Yes.”
Tao Ning’s smile widened, its warmth infectious. Even knowing Tao Ning was likely influenced by the cauldron’s resentment, Cen Dianshuang felt her own tense muscles relax.
Then, her back pressed against a tree trunk, her lips captured in a sudden, unexpected kiss, a warm, insistent pressure that made her gasp.
Her eyes widened, her hands resting lightly on Tao Ning’s shoulders, afraid to push her away, afraid of hurting her, of breaking the fragile connection after so long apart.
Their previous kiss had been a drunken mistake, a hazy memory.
This, however, was different. She was fully aware, fully present, the sensation… overwhelming.
Tao Ning’s kiss wasn’t gentle, its intensity almost bruising, but a warmth spread through Cen Dianshuang’s body, melting her usual coldness, her muscles relaxing as if she were immersed in a hot spring.
The longing, the pent-up emotions of forty years, poured into the kiss, their intensity undeniable.
Cen Dianshuang, her legs weakening, leaned against Tao Ning, her hands gripping her disciple’s back, their bodies pressed close.
She wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come, only a soft, breathless, “Mmm.”
The simple sound made Tao Ning’s smile widen, her own hand now resting on Cen Dianshuang’s cheek, her face pressed against her master’s, as if she couldn’t survive without her warmth.
But remembering Cen Dianshuang’s reserved nature, she pulled back slightly, her words sending a jolt through Cen Dianshuang’s mind.
“Master, do you remember… that night in Butterfly City? Why did you suddenly enter seclusion? Did you… not want me anymore?”
Cen Dianshuang’s mouth opened and closed, her tongue darting out to wet her suddenly dry lips. She looked up, her voice soft, almost hesitant. “No.”
Tao Ning buried her face in Cen Dianshuang’s neck, her voice muffled. “I don’t believe you. You abandoned me.”
Cen Dianshuang, her awkward attempts at comforting her disciple rusty after forty years, gently stroked Tao Ning’s back, her touch light and hesitant.
“I didn’t abandon you. I… I had a breakthrough. I didn’t have time to wait for you. I had to go to Thunder God Valley. My situation is… unusual. It took longer than expected. It won’t happen again.”
Tao Ning, still clinging to her, shook her head, and Cen Dianshuang, assuming she wasn’t convinced, struggled to find the right words.
Then, Tao Ning’s voice, soft and serious, echoed against her neck. “It’s okay, Master. As long as you’re safe.”
Cen Dianshuang’s relief was short-lived. Her disciple, still clinging to her, added, “Kiss me, and I’ll feel better.”
“…”
Cen Dianshuang pulled away abruptly, turning her back to Tao Ning.
Tao Ning, her arms now empty, stood there for a moment, then looked at Cen Dianshuang, her expression a mix of confusion and hurt. “Master?”
Cen Dianshuang wasn’t completely turned away. She was facing sideways, her profile visible, her ears and neck flushed crimson.
She’s blushing? Embarrassed?
After a long moment, she turned, her voice slightly flustered. “If you want a kiss, just ask. Why call me Master?”
She resisted the urge to cover her face, the blush spreading rapidly.
“I feel like I’m… corrupting you.”
Tao Ning, interpreting this as rejection, her shoulders slumping slightly, said softly, “Alright.”
“Alright what? I didn’t say no.” Cen Dianshuang approached, cupping Tao Ning’s face in her hands, showering her with kisses.
Forehead, nose, cheeks, then finally, her lips.
Lest her disciple, still slightly influenced by the cauldron’s resentment, complain about unfairness.
Releasing Tao Ning, she looked away, her voice slightly flustered. “There. This… this isn’t a good thing. I’ll keep it safe. We’ll give it to the sect.”
She bent down to retrieve the Wanhun Cauldron, which had apparently been kicked aside during their… embrace.
Thankfully, her disciple hadn’t shown any interest in the artifact that could control the Demonic Realm…
A thud behind her, and Cen Dianshuang turned, nearly dropping the cauldron as she saw Tao Ning lying unconscious on the ground.
She quickly scooped her up. Spiritual exhaustion. A spirit gathering formation would fix that.
Looking towards the nearby trees, she called out, her voice calm, “Come out.”
A figure emerged from the shadows: Pang Xueting, who had left her junior siblings behind to scout ahead.
Pang Xueting stammered, assuming she had interrupted something… private. “Senior… is… is Senior Tao alright?”
She wanted to say, You two are so adorable! So Senior Tao already has a Dao companion!
But meeting Cen Dianshuang’s gaze, the words came out differently. “So you weren’t an enemy! You were looking for someone! Haha!” She mentally slapped herself. What am I saying?
Cen Dianshuang, initially looking at Tao Ning with a soft, almost tender expression, turned, her face now cold and impassive. “She’s my disciple.”
Pang Xueting’s jaw dropped, and she stumbled, landing hard on the ground.
The other Heavenly Heart Sect disciples, waiting nearby, finally saw their senior sister emerge, only to trip and fall.
“Senior Sister! Are you alright?!”
Cen Dianshuang, her voice calm and detached, offered some unsolicited advice. “Your footing is unstable. Practice horse stance for an hour each day with a water-filled urn on your head. It will improve your balance.” She frowned, wondering why she had even bothered. Perhaps seeing a low-level cultivator triggered her “elder” persona.
She walked away, carrying Tao Ning, her steps unhurried.
Her disciple needed rest. She recalled the spirit jade bed she had brought with her. It would be perfect.
Pang Xueting, her face pale, her hands clammy, stared after her, her mind reeling.
Wait… disciple? Or Dao companion?
Since when do masters and disciples make out against trees?
Leave a Reply