It Turns Out The Master's Wife Is Actually Me [GL] - Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Cheng Fu looked dazed as she turned toward Yongguan. Once his words sank in, she jolted upright. What? One is missing?

Yongguan’s expression was complicated, his head hanging heavy. Yes, Young Master. As soon as I opened the steamer, I saw a pastry had vanished into thin air. But I’ve been guarding the stove this whole time, and there was no one else around.

He bowed his head, mentally preparing himself for a punishment.

Cheng Fu had no interest in scolding him. She dashed into the hut to the stove and lifted the lid, which was still billowing hot steam. Inside, the pastries were lined up in a neat grid, but one corner of the square was conspicuously empty. It was an eyesore. The missing piece ruined the symmetry of the entire batch.

Anxious, Cheng Fu turned and hurried out of the hut. Within a few steps, a sudden flash of snow-white entered her vision.

Yan Li, who had supposedly left without a sound, was now standing at the entrance of the thatched hut. Her frost-white sleeves fluttered solitary in the wind looking less like a sword cultivator and more like a celestial fairy fallen into the mortal realm.

Cheng Fu stared at her Master’s elegant back, and Yongguan’s words suddenly echoed in her mind: There was no one else around.

Who said there was no one else?

Her heart skipped a beat, but she immediately curled her fingers and flatly rejected the suspicion. How could Master be the kind of cultivator who craves food? At Master’s level, she can traverse the void at will. She’s been practicing for ages.

It was common knowledge that years of cultivation thinned out one’s worldly desires. Why would a sword cultivator at the peak of the Great Ascension stage crave a tiny pastry?

Cheng Fu frowned, feeling the situation becoming tricky.

Outside, the wind picked up again, blowing faster this time. The crudely made straw door rattled back and forth, teetering on its hinges, as several loose strands of dried grass scattered to the floor. As Cheng Fu faced the door, the sudden gust ruffled the hair on her forehead.

Small bits of straw and debris were blown inside by the wind. Cheng Fu’s eyes caught something a crumpled ball of paper rolling precariously over the low, weathered threshold.

Her heart leaped. she stepped forward, picked up the paper ball, and carefully pried it open with her fingertips. It was covered in tiny, dense handwriting like fly-specks, accompanied by small, simple sketches. It was exactly the missing page of the sword manual.

Cheng Fu’s mood turned subtle. She involuntarily cast a glance toward her Master’s position, then silently turned back and handed the scrap to Yongguan. Just mold another piece and steam it.

Once the pastry matter was settled, Cheng Fu hesitated for a moment before finally walking to Yan Li’s side. She couldn’t help but ask, Ma… Master, that pastry did you take it?

Yan Li’s eyes were deep as she said, word by word, I was hungry.

The implication was crystal clear.

Cheng Fu: “…”

Fine. A Great Ascension peak cultivator who has practiced inedia for hundreds, maybe thousands of years, is hungry.

Even though she knew Yan Li was talking nonsense with a straight face, Cheng Fu obediently lowered her eyes and said softly, I see. If Master was hungry, why didn’t you tell your disciple sooner?

Yan Li replied, I had matters to attend to earlier. When I returned, I saw you were sleeping, so I helped myself.

The corners of Cheng Fu’s mouth involuntarily curled upward.

While they spoke, Yongguan had already begun steaming the replacement pastry. The steamer tray was large, and having a single, tiny pastry sitting in the middle looked quite out of place.

Suddenly, Cheng Fu felt the surrounding imagery begin to distort and shift. The lush green grass beneath her feet shattered into chaotic blocks of color, and the thatched hut twisted into a blurry vortex. The world spun; nothing remained intact.

Amidst the hallucinatory, absurd scene, she felt her entire body enveloped by fine currents of air. The gentle flow cradled her light, soft body, slowly delivering her to a strange new location.

When she opened her eyes again, she was standing exactly where she had been when she first walked out of the Golden Room. The winding corridor lay before her—a scene familiar to the extreme.

Cheng Fu blinked, her gaze—which had become scattered during the transition refocused.

No.

The scene from when she first stepped out of this bedroom was not like this.

The corridor ahead looked similar to before, but there were now two additional paths. Although the route was winding and hard to identify, Cheng Fu had been observant when she first left this room; the layout of the hallway then was definitely not like this.

Previously, the corridor only led to two paths. Based on her memory of going to and from the garden, although the directions were slightly different, they both generally pointed toward the garden. It was likely a fixed route set by the Inner Demon Realm to force the examinee into the first scenario: “Caught practicing the sword in the garden.”

Cheng Fu’s eyes deepened. In her shimmering pupils, the intersection of the corridor was reflected.

Four paths in total.

Compared to before, two new paths had appeared out of nowhere.

And from the direction of one of these new paths one Cheng Fu had no memory of came the sound of steady, rhythmic footsteps.

The steps were light, suggesting a slender human cultivator. Judging by the sound, the cultivator wasn’t trying to hide their presence; they were in a relatively relaxed state, walking toward Cheng Fu step by step.

At the same time, the blue ring on Cheng Fu’s wrist representing the Commander position began to emit a slight heat. It pulsed with a rhythmic blue light in time with the approaching footsteps.

Cheng Fu’s fingers, which had been resting on her sword hilt, slowly relaxed. She exhaled a sudden breath of relief. A spark of joy appeared in her eyes as she walked briskly toward the sound.

Emerging from the winding corridor was Gu Da. She was dressed in deep indigo robes, with a hint of casual indifference hanging in her eyes. This, combined with the faint scent of wine around her, gave her a very unique charm.

As Gu Da walked, she lazily tucked a jade bottle back into her waist and smiled. Cheng Fu? You move fast. Are you the first one out?

Though she phrased it as a question, her tone was entirely certain.

Cheng Fu didn’t feign modesty and nodded. After clearing it, I saw a thatched hut and waited there for a while. Then I was suddenly sent back here and met you.

Gu Da glanced at the winding corridor. You were the first out, so you were given a special scene to rest in a sort of alternative reward. Those who aren’t the first to break through only see one path when they emerge. If they follow it, they find the teammate who finished first.

Cheng Fu understood. That explained why there were four paths now.

Another light footstep sounded. The owner walked at a moderate pace, with a certain touch of elegance. Hearing the sound, Cheng Fu thought for a moment and knew it must be Chen Qianru. The other two in the team were flashy personalities who walked with brash strides; only she would be this graceful.

The gentle medical cultivator, carrying her medicine pouch, gave them a soft smile. As she moved, her white wrists peeked out from beneath her sleeves. On one, a pale green ring could be seen, representing her role as the [Healer].

Chen Qianru silently pulled her sleeve down to hide the green ring and said warmly, Xiao Fu was the first out? Truly remarkable.

Cheng Fu’s cheeks flushed slightly. No, it was just luck.

She really had relied on sheer luck to clear it so quickly. First, she found the tunnel key by rummaging around, and then Yan Li had casually pointed out the tunnel in the room, showing her the simplest shortcut. Strictly speaking, her clearing the stage had very little to do with her own skills.

Chen Qianru’s eyes crinkled with a soft smile. How could clearing it be luck? It took me quite a lot of effort to get the message to that guard, Yongguan. I had to use the excuse of delivering food to get my hands on the sword manual needed to pass.

Cheng Fu realized then the Yongguan in the hut making pastries was from Chen Qianru’s Inner Demon Realm.

Before she could speak again, the attention of the three gathered at the bedroom door was drawn away by a mess of swift footsteps.

Liao Zilu arrived, carrying her two shimmering light swords. Her steps were uncanny as she practically treaded on air, light as a swallow. At the same time, a handsome youth in fluttering black robes appeared at the end of the corridor, using a fancy sword-kinesis flying technique. It was Xin Yunze.

The two noticed each other and both let out an annoyed huff simultaneously:

“How unlucky!” Talk about bad omens!

Chen Qianru let out a small laugh. You two, don’t go starting a fight in the Testing Realm.

Her laughing voice cut off abruptly. Chen Qianru’s expression turned stern as she looked in another direction.

Gu Da also sharpened her gaze, pulling the jade bottle from her waist. She still looked nonchalant, but sparks of light were beginning to flash at the mouth of the bottle—some kind of spell or technique.

Heavy footsteps approached. It was no longer a member of Team Qian-1, but the whetstone from the garden who had been overflowing with rage.

It was the Old Father.

His attire remained unchanged still dressed in bright yellow silk. The soft fabric clung to his large, tiger-like frame, accentuating his unflattering lines and revealing his burly build, which looked quite intimidating.

His face was as hideous as before, but his mental state seemed to have worsened. His eyes were entirely bloodshot, bulging out exaggeratedly. The massive whites were covered in a tangled web of red veins, making him look like a zombie or a demon crawled out from the earth.

A strange expression crossed his face—his coarse flesh pulled into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Where did you learn such heterodox tricks to deceive your father?

With every word he spoke, his eyeballs protruded a bit more. By the time he finished the sentence, half of the spherical globes were exposed. The red veins at the base were so dense they looked like a web made of blood, precariously holding the black pupils in place.

He let out two sticky, raspy laughs from a throat clogged with phlegm, then gave his neck two cracks, twisting it to a bizarre angle. With his head tilted, he stared directly at Cheng Fu, who stood in the center of the five-person group.

Chen Xingzhi, where did you learn these wicked arts to deceive your father here?

His harsh, screeching voice rose even higher: Tell father, eh?

Who did you learn this wicked doppelgänger art from? To be able to split yourself into five people?