It Turns Out The Master's Wife Is Actually Me [GL] - Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Cheng Fu behaved herself properly, finding a spot to sit beside Yan Li. She said obediently, Does Master have any instructions for your disciple? I am all ears and at your service.

Yan Li glanced at her and said indifferently, Your skill in flattery has certainly been well-cultivated.

Cheng Fu remained silent.

Before entering the hall, her Master had been sulking for quite a while because Cheng Fu hadn’t formally welcomed her back. It was only after Cheng Fu used soft words and gentle coaxing to smooth her fur that the resentment finally dissipated.

From this, it was clear that Yan Li actually quite enjoyed her spiral rainbow flattery!

How can Master be such a tsundere? She’s so cute, Cheng Fu thought secretly, stealing a glance at her Master. Her cheeks flushed slightly without her realizing it.

Yan Li stared at the disciple sitting before her, momentarily dazed. Her disciple possessed bright eyes and cherry-blossom lips; those eyes were always sparkling, and at this moment, they were fluttering as she looked at Yan Li with sheer joy.

Yan Li tilted her head slightly, seemingly unwilling to look directly into those overly bright eyes.

The snow-haired Sword Master raised her hand to her lips and coughed lightly. Stop staring at me. Just listen intently to what I say. Your mind is always unstable; staring at one thing for too long makes it easy for you to get distracted.

Cheng Fu blinked and nodded repeatedly. “Yes, Master! I will definitely listen carefully and not get distracted!”

Yan Li finally straightened her expression and was about to speak when she heard Cheng Fu add: But forgive your disciple for overstepping, Master, you coughed just now—did you sustain an injury during your travels? You must pay more attention to your health and avoid overworking yourself.

As the words fell, Yan Li’s eyes instantly darkened. Always self-possessed, she couldn’t help but take a deep breath, which sounded somewhat abrupt in the quiet room.

Her gaze deepened as she looked at Cheng Fu, her entire being pausing for a moment. There is no need for your concern. I am fine. If one listened closely, there was a slight tremor in her voice.

Cheng Fu’s ears twitched; she sensed that her Master’s state was a bit off, and a hint of doubt flickered across her face.

Her Master wasn’t in the best state, but judging by her demeanor, she didn’t want to talk about it. In that case, there was no need to ask. Prying further would be tactless.

Fine, tomorrow I’ll make some soul-soothing soup for her, Cheng Fu thought.

She steadied her expression, cleared the idle chatter from her mind, and got straight to the point: Master, I truly have many uncertainties regarding cultivation. I hope Master can provide some guidance.

Yan Li’s expression softened. Just tell me what difficulties you have. When it comes to teaching, I will hold nothing back from you.

As she finished speaking, a sudden clink rang out. The dim, quiet hall was abruptly pierced by the metallic sound of a sword being unsheathed and a brilliant flash of snow-white sword light.

A few heartbeats later, the cold light subsided, revealing the primitive, dull appearance of the sword’s body.

The blade of this sword was different from the polished brilliance of ordinary prized swords; it was a dull brown mixed with a bit of ochre yellow. It looked like a mud toy molded by a young child. At a glance, it was impossible to associate it with a legendary weapon.

However, that clear, resonant sword cry was enough to prove this was no ordinary item.

Cheng Fu’s gaze grew serious. Holding the sword in one hand, she flicked her wrist, tracing a fleeting, bright arc in the air, accompanied by the sword’s humming vibration. If a blind cultivator were in the hall, hearing such a hum, they would surely believe they were in the Tomb of Ten Thousand Swords. The cry was so complex it couldn’t possibly be the call of a single sword soul.

She reversed the blade, ended her stance, and held the sword flat across her palms. She could see the tip of the sword still trembling slightly, as if filled with indignation.

Cheng Fu held the ochre-colored sword and was about to ask a question when she saw Yan Li lazily propping her head on her hand. A few strands of snow-white hair fell by her ear. Her voice was flat: That is ‘Shutu’ showing its disdain for you. It has been tempered a thousand times and has developed intelligence. An intelligence derived from iron and stone is usually called a Sword Soul.

To truly command a sword with a soul, you must make it acknowledge you as its master.

Yan Li looked down at the Shutu Sword, then back at Cheng Fu. Sword souls with spiritual intelligence are rare; they are usually aloof and proud, only accepting masters they choose themselves. You must display a Sword Intent that it respects before it will willingly be driven by you.

As soon as the white-haired Sword Master finished speaking, the dull, yellowish sword tip seemed to have a sudden change of heart. The humming that had been constant suddenly stopped, and it lay obediently and quietly in Cheng Fu’s palm.

Cheng Fu looked down at Shutu, feeling a secret bitterness in her heart.

You shut up the moment my Master speaks? You opportunistic, fickle sword soul! You can’t even look away from the Sword Master!

But what her Master said made sense. A precious sword wouldn’t be easily commanded by a cultivator with a low level.

Cheng Fu tapped her finger to her forehead and said with drooping eyelids, Master, you say I have to show a Sword Intent it respects, but do I look like someone who has Sword Intent? I’m a Dharma cultivator, and only at the Golden Core stage at that.

Sword Intent was the exclusive domain of sword cultivators at the Spirit Severing stage or above.

Yan Li nodded understandingly. I know you don’t have Sword Intent. That’s why you’re just wearing that sword on your waist as a decoration for now. I didn’t expect you to be able to use it.

Cheng Fu: Master, this sword is quite ugly. I don’t think it has much decorative value.

As she was still holding the sword in both hands, the moment she finished the sentence, she felt the sword in her hands hum with dissatisfaction again, the blade vibrating at a high frequency.

Yan Li’s face suddenly darkened, and she looked at the sword expressionlessly.

The Shutu Sword shrunk back invisibly and finally stopped moving, lying straight in Cheng Fu’s hand like a salted fish.

Cheng Fu’s lip twitched. With a shing, she sheathed the sword.

Is this really a legendary sword? It’s so cowardly.

Yan Li watched Cheng Fu’s movements without blinking, then suddenly said, The derivation of Sword Intent actually has nothing to do with cultivation realms. It’s just that most sword cultivators in the Five Spirit Domains are dull-witted and only find their own intent when they reach Spirit Severing.

She paused and added, I derived my Sword Intent at the Spirit Severing stage as well. It seems the common consensus is merely one point of view and doesn’t apply to all sword cultivators.

Cheng Fu:  It certainly is one point of view. The experience of ordinary sword cultivators obviously doesn’t apply to the Wurong Sword Master.

But in the five major domains, there’s only one Wurong Sword Master!

Yan Li didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with what she said. Her gaze shifted to the wrist Cheng Fu had used to hold the sword. Her brow furrowed slightly, and she said in a deep voice, I almost forgot you have a restriction on you.

Cheng Fu’s ears perked up instantly. She took a large step toward Yan Li, her voice trembling slightly. Yes, yes, yes, Master! Besides not being able to drive Shutu, the other problem is the restriction on my body. Master, you have been on the immortal path for a long time; you should be able to see the nature of this restriction.

Yan Li hummed in affirmation and calmly extended a hand. Give me your hand. I’ll see how your meridians are.

The fair, slender hand hung softly in mid-air. Under the flickering candlelight, shadows pooled around the edges of the delicate bones on the back of her hand fragile and exquisite.

Cheng Fu was inexplicably nervous. She tremblingly raised her rough paw and slowly moved it closer to her Master’s hand, then submissively turned it over to reveal her pale wrist the skin there was thin, and faint blue-purple veins were visible.

The two slender hands met in the hazy candlelight. With the heavy play of light and shadow, the moment felt strangely surreal.

Cheng Fu’s heart beat like a drum. She didn’t understand why just holding hands with her Master made her so nervous.

It must be because Master is so unfairly beautiful, she thought. Speaking of which, I was a staunch ‘white-hair fan’ even before I transmigrated.

The hand hanging in the air gently placed a finger on the wrist below, brushing it lightly.

A shadow of darkness appeared in Yan Li’s beautiful eyes. She withdrew her hand, straightened her leaning posture, and said heavily, This is just a common little trick to stall cultivation. Ghost cultivators often use it to cause trouble for others; originally, it wasn’t hard to break.

But the caster layered a Blood-Kin Covenant on top of it. This covenant only works if the caster and the victim share a blood relationship. Using the caster’s heart’s blood as a medium, it is injected into the victim’s heart pulse. If one tries to force the seal open, it will destroy your heart pulse. Whether you would survive is a question.

The further Cheng Fu listened, the further her heart sank. Her heartbeat felt as though it were being struck by heavy stones a thud followed by a sharp ache, heavy and painful.

Yan Li continued: And what determines the conditions for breaking a Blood Covenant is the witnessing medium. The higher the level of the medium, the harsher the conditions for breaking it.

Cheng Fu didn’t speak. A heavy weight seemed to hang over her heart, and she had an ominous premonition.

The snow-haired, cold-faced Sword Master finally withdrew her hand completely. Her voice was cold and clear, each word striking Cheng Fu’s heart: Unluckily, the witnessing medium for this covenant is The Heavenly Dao.

Cheng Fu felt as if she had fallen into an ice cellar; she was cold all over.

The Heavenly Dao was undoubtedly the highest existence in the eyes of a cultivator. Someone who could touch the Heavenly Dao and set it as a medium must be at a realm above Great Ascension. In the language of mortals, they would be an Immortal who can ascend to the heavens.

It was the ultimate realm of completion that every cultivator in the world yearned for and bled for: Ascension.

She heard her own voice, dry and devoid of pitch, asking, Then is there a way to break a Blood-Kin Covenant witnessed by the Heavenly Dao?

Yan Li said, The heart’s blood of a direct relative can break it.

A forced, strained smile touched the corners of Cheng Fu’s mouth.

The person who cast the spell was her direct relative, and that relative’s heart blood was already fused into her heart pulse to form the seal. She only had two direct relatives; since one of them cast this seal, it meant one of the two was already involved.

Even if one of her parents were still alive, setting aside whether she could find them, the mere act of taking heart’s blood was a death sentence for the donor.

Her parents had been missing for eighteen years. To meet them only to have to slay one to take their heart’s blood?

Cheng Fu knew she couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t do such a thing. Forget a blood relative even if it were a stranger’s heart blood, could she take someone’s life just because her own cultivation wouldn’t grow? That wasn’t right.

Golden Core, Golden Core, Golden Core.

She was currently at the Golden Core stage. For the rest of her life, she would remain stuck there. There would be no more progress in this lifetime.

Cheng Fu felt numb. She gave a hollow salute to Yan Li, bit her lip, and spoke slowly: Thank you, Master, for clearing my doubts. Your disciple shall take her leave.

With that, she turned around. Her steps were slow as she walked out of Yan Li’s sleeping quarters. The dim, yellow candlelight stretched her shadow long and flickering against the floor.

Yan Li’s brow furrowed. Her hand, hidden beneath her sleeve, curled unconsciously. Watching Cheng Fu’s retreating back, she suddenly called out:

Wait.