After Being Certified by the Immortal Lord on the Path of Ruthlessness - Chapter 53

Jiang Mianhao pondered for a moment before softly saying, “It seems so… she treats me a little differently.”

 

“Do you dislike the special treatment she gives you?” Jiang Yunjuan asked gently, patiently guiding her with each question.

 

Jiang Mianhao shook her head and shifted her gaze to the courtyard beyond the door.

 

The heavy rain continued relentlessly, the gloomy sky making it impossible to gauge the time. Occasional rumbles of thunder rolled across the mountains, punctuated by flashes of lightning.

 

She recalled how, on her way over, Lu Jiu had used her spiritual power to shield her from the rain. Even though the distance from the side room to the main hall was short, Lu Jiu had insisted on escorting her.

 

Her thoughts scattered like the raindrops outside, drifting back to the kiss they had shared earlier in the room.

 

Jiang Mianhao couldn’t help but feel her ears grow warm. She coughed lightly and averted her gaze.

 

Observing the emotional shift in the person before her, Jiang Yuanjuan grew curious and tentatively asked, “So, you also have feelings for Lu Jiu.”

Though her tone was probing, the question carried a quiet certainty.

 

“Lu Jiu treats me very well,” Jiang Mianhao said softly, carefully weighing each word. “She is considerate of me, treats me as an exception, and protects me at all times.”

 

Watching the usually lively girl speak in such a subdued manner, Jiang Yuanjuan felt a strange, indescribable emotion stir within her.

 

Though every word conveyed Lu Jiu’s kindness, there was no trace of the happiness one might expect from someone being loved. Instead, Jiang Mianhao’s voice was low, timid, and cautious.

 

“Then it sounds like you both share mutual affection,” Jiang Yuanjuan said, stroking her head gently. “But why aren’t you happy?”

 

Jiang Mianhao hummed in acknowledgment and lifted her gaze, staring blankly. “Happy? I am happy.”

 

Jiang Yuanjuan shook her head, gently refuting her. “You’re not truly happy, Mian Mian. You can tell your sister everything without holding back. If you keep all your sorrows buried in your heart and give your smiles only to others, you’ll only exhaust yourself.”

 

Jiang Mianhao let out a long, quiet sigh and lowered her head completely, the weight of unspoken feelings pressing down on her.

 

Lu Jiu’s kindness toward her was real, and her own love for Lu Jiu was real.

But what was false was her identity.

 

The more Lu Jiu treated her with care, the more uneasy Jiang Mianhao became.

 

A tiny, insidious bug named “inferiority” had already burrowed into her heart, gnawing at her from within.

 

“Sister,” Jiang Mianhao asked softly, her voice tinged with hesitation, “is love a duty that must be fulfilled?”

 

Jiang Yuanjuan was momentarily taken aback and hummed in response. “What?”

 

“Would you treat someone well simply because they are your dao companion?” Jiang Mianhao’s tone carried a quiet sorrow. “Even if the other person knows that this identity isn’t real, such kindness… it’s something one can’t help but cling to.”

 

The negative emotions swirled like a cloud of turbid air, lodged in her chest and impossible to dispel.

 

Lu Jiu’s thoughtfulness, gentleness, care, and love were all rooted in the belief that Jiang Mianhao was her dao companion.

 

But no matter how hard Jiang Mianhao tried, she couldn’t reconcile herself with that identity.

 

The dao companion of an immortal lord must be someone extraordinary. In appearance, in cultivation. Not someone like her.

 

Yet she was just a blade of grass—a wild, untamed sprout who didn’t even know her own origins or her past.

 

She was merely borrowing the identity of Lu Jiu’s dao companion to receive tenderness and affection that didn’t truly belong to her.

 

To possess the heart of the world’s finest immortal lord. A heart unique and unparalleled.

 

Lost in her emotions, Jiang Mianhao didn’t realize that the words she spoke made little logical sense.

 

But Jiang Yunjuan understood. She bent down, drawing the girl into her embrace, and whispered softly, “Mian Mian, all things in the world seek fairness and equality, but love alone does not.”

 

“When you receive love, don’t feel pressured because it’s too good,” Jiang Yuanjuan continued gently. “Think instead that you are worthy of it, and that is why you receive it.”

 

Jiang Mianhao leaned against Jiang Yuanjuan’s chest, murmuring, “But Sister, the gap between people is like a towering mountain. Can it really be crossed?”

 

“Of course!” Jiang Yuanjuan stroked her hair reassuringly. “There’s a story in the mortal world called ‘The Foolish Old Man Who Moved the Mountains.’ Would you like me to tell it?”

 

Jiang Mianhao rested her head on Jiang Yunjuan’s lap and nodded, her face bright with anticipation.

 

A gentle voice began to tell the story, soft and soothing, as if it could tame even the thunder and rain outside the door.

 

“So, as long as you work hard, there is hope, right?” Jiang Mianhao’s eyes sparkled after hearing the tale. “The Foolish Old Man was truly remarkable.”

 

Jiang Yuanjuan nodded with a warm smile. “The Foolish Old Man was not truly foolish. So, Mian Mian, you are also worthy of love.”

 

She continued softly, “If the gap in background or status feels too great, then pour more of yourself into love. Love without reservation. Rather than being too insecure to love, why not embrace it wholeheartedly? To truly enjoy it.”

 

Love unreservedly and bravely.

 

Receive love, return love.

 

Jiang Mianhao engraved the words in her heart. When she looked up again, her eyes shone with newfound determination.

The knot in her heart slowly unraveled, and Jiang Mianhao felt like a long-parched blade of grass finally quenched by nourishing rain.

 

Gazing at the gentle yet resolute figure before her, admiration swelled in her chest.

 

Seeing the renewed sparkle in Jiang Mianhao’s eyes, Jiang Yuanjuan smiled softly. “Then, Mian Mian, would you like to hear the story of me and Sect Leader Feng?”

 

Outside, the intensifying rain blurred the passage of time, creating a stark contrast between the warmth and calm within and the storm raging beyond the windows.

 

Time seemed to pause on Mount Hua.

 

Yet the weather worsened with each passing day. Rain had become a constant companion, and with the arrival of winter, even the wind slicing past the windows turned sharp and biting.

 

After spending half a month on Mount Hua, Ye Qingge still had nothing to show for her efforts.

 

The soaring bird and snake seemed to have vanished into thin air, leaving no trace.

 

Through this period of recuperation, her spiritual power gradually stabilized within her.

But the unease in Ye Qingge’s heart never eased.

 

As long as the soaring bird and snake remained unvanquished, it felt like a thorn lodged deep within her chest.

 

After yet another fruitless search, she had no choice but to return, at least temporarily, to Phoenix Cry Manor.

 

Jiang Mianhao had gone out again, chatting with Jiang Yuanjuan, and had not yet returned. Since arriving on Mount Hua, she had grown remarkably close to the sect leader’s wife.

 

Meanwhile, Lily of the Valley trained relentlessly with the sect leader, rain or shine, never missing a single day.

 

Suppressing her irritation and impatience, Ye Qingge stepped into her room.

 

Her gaze immediately fell upon the desk.

 

A small pouch lay there, the same one she had been unable to finish embroidering the previous night. The dark blue silk shimmered under the candlelight, adorned with a crooked yellow patch and a green design.

 

Ye Qingge glanced at it, then moved the pouch aside, tucking it beneath the scroll.

 

Since the collective negligence in the Heavenly Realm last time, Ye Qingge had resumed managing a myriad of affairs.

 

With her trial of love still unresolved, the position of Empress remained vacant.

 

Ye Qingge had no desire to ascend the throne, and her eight older sisters had either lingered in the mortal world or retreated to seclusion in the mountains, leaving the heavy and intricate responsibilities entirely to her.

 

Without the guidance of a new empress, chaos had frequently erupted across the three realms. The daily reports alone were enough to give Ye Qingge a headache.

 

The scent of tea drifted through the room, while the wooden door muffled the persistent patter of rain outside.

 

Ye Qingge focused her mind on the piled-up scrolls and documents.

 

By the time Jiang Mianhao returned, she saw Ye Qingge seated at the desk, immersed in work.

 

Though the room was lit by lamps, it always felt too dim for Lu Jiu. Therefore, a ball of spiritual energy floated in the air, casting an intensely bright, steady glow over the desk.

 

Jiang Mianhao, who had entered quietly, slowed her breathing and gently closed the door.

Lu Jiu had grown exceptionally busy lately, sleeping less and less.

 

When someone naturally aloof and indifferent furrowed their brows, they appeared particularly fierce.

 

Jiang Mianhao dared not make a sound, fearful of adding to Lu Jiu’s burden. She finally managed to close the door without a single noise, and just as she began to relax, she was suddenly embraced from behind.

 

Ye Qingge rested her head on the shoulder of the person in her arms and sighed softly, a hint of complaint in her voice. “You two chatted for so long again.”

 

“Hmm?” Jiang Mianhao’s hands instinctively held the ones around her waist. “Sister Jiang’s morning sickness has been getting worse lately. She’s been feeling terrible all over.”

 

Ye Qingge buried her head in Jiang Mianhao’s neck and closed her eyes.

 

The frustration and gloom she had felt just moments ago vanished the instant she held the person in her arms.

 

“Did I disturb you?” Jiang Mianhao’s tone was full of apology. “I’ll be quieter next time.”

 

The person nestled against her neck shook her head gently, and Lu Jiu’s voice fell by her ear: “It’s just that you came back too late. I kept thinking of you and couldn’t focus at all.”

Hearing such childish words, Jiang Mianhao couldn’t help but curl her lips into a smile. “Sister Jiang is pregnant and has become very clingy, but she doesn’t want to trouble Sect Leader Feng, so I’ve been spending more time with her.”

 

Ye Qingge let out a deep sigh and grumbled, “It’s always Sister Jiang this, Sister Jiang that. It’s her pregnancy, not yours.”

 

“Hmm?” Jiang Mianhao turned around, amused. “What? Is Lu Jiu going to be jealous of an unborn child?”

 

The arms around her waist loosened, and Ye Qingge huffed, “You’re my cultivation partner. That child has nothing to do with you.”

 

“It does,” Jiang Mianhao replied, stepping forward to embrace Ye Qingge, resting her head against her chest. “Sister Jiang has taken me as her younger sister, so I’m that child’s aunt!”

 

Ye Qingge frowned, unable to understand Jiang Mianhao’s attachment, and sighed. “If you like children so much, why not have one of your own? Someone else’s will always be someone else’s.”

 

With that, she turned back to the desk, shifting her gaze to the scrolls.

 

The irritation that had been stirred by the documents had been soothed by Jiang Mianhao’s embrace, and Ye Qingge’s mood improved slightly.

 

Though Ye Qingge was unwilling to admit it, she had already grown accustomed to kissing and holding Jiang Mianhao.

As long as she embraced Jiang Mianhao, the turbulent spiritual energy and backlash within her would settle.

 

The Matchmaker had said it was because Jiang Mianhao was not only her love tribulation but also her destined love.

 

It was for this reason that Ye Qingge gradually let down her guard, occasionally showing affection and acting coquettishly toward Jiang Mianhao.

 

Unbeknownst to Ye Qingge, who had already refocused on the scrolls, her unintentional remark was like a stone dropped into a calm lake.

 

It stirred ripples in Jiang Mianhao’s heart.

 

A child of her own?

 

But Sister Jiang had said that to conceive life, it must be between two people who love each other deeply.

 

Could she and Lu Jiu have a child of their own?

 

Jiang Mianhao shuddered, forcing her wandering thoughts to a halt.

 

“Are there still so many to deal with today?” she asked softly, tiptoeing back and leaning over the other side of the desk.

Lu Jiu, fully absorbed in her work, was captivating. Her usually cool and distant expression was now softened by concentration.

 

Jiang Mianhao propped her chin in her hands, unable to tear her eyes away, and couldn’t help but recall Lu Jiu’s earlier words.

 

It wasn’t until the brush handle lightly tapped her head that she snapped back to reality.

 

“What are you thinking about so intently while staring at me?” Ye Qingge asked without looking up, withdrawing her hand calmly. “Grind the ink.”

 

Pulled back to the present, Jiang Mianhao obediently hummed and washed her hands before picking up the inkstick, gently swirling it in the inkstone.

 

Her gaze lingered on the other’s distinct, bony fingers gripping the brush, pale fingertips flushed red from effort.

 

Once again, her thoughts strayed to the earlier jest, and she couldn’t resist letting her mind wander.

 

If she and Lu Jiu had a child, what would they be like?

 

Would the child look more like her, or would it be better if they resembled Lu Jiu?

 

Lu Jiu was beautiful, well-educated, able to decipher complex texts, and skilled with a sword; her spiritual power and cultivation were exceptionally strong.

 

If the child took after Lu Jiu, they would surely be outstanding too.

 

Lost in her thoughts, Jiang Mianhao nodded and accidentally hummed aloud.

 

Ye Qingge glanced at the distracted girl before her. The ink in the stone had pooled, and a few drops splashed as she stirred, landing on her slightly plump cheeks. The stark contrast of black against fair skin striking.

 

Unable to hold back, Ye Qingge chuckled, reaching out to smudge the ink backward.

 

Suddenly, having her cheek pinched, Jiang Mianhao snapped back to attention. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

 

Seeing the two streaks now resembling a kitten’s whiskers, Ye Qingge suppressed a laugh and shook her head. “Nothing. Keep grinding.”

 

“Okay~” Unaware of the marks on her face, Jiang Mianhao resumed her task.

 

Suddenly, her cheek was pinched again.

 

Observing the symmetrical black streaks adorning the fair face, Ye Qingge could no longer contain herself and let out a soft laugh.