It Turns Out The Master's Wife Is Actually Me [GL] - Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Cheng Fu:

She had to admit at that exact moment, she was deeply struck by the sheer, unadulterated audacity of someone ordering five bowls of spiritual rice in one breath.

Yesterday, during her first visit to the Zhiwang refectory, Cheng Fu had also ordered a single bowl of spiritual rice, curious to see how it differed from ordinary white rice. The server, while ladling out two large scoops, had said with a beaming smile:

Is this the young lady’s first time at Zhiwang? You really must taste this rice! You won’t find quality like this outside. What are the benefits? If you’re a cultivator, it anchors your meridians and condenses your power! If you aren’t, it strengthens the body and builds health. Either way, the benefits are endless.

Hearing this, Cheng Fu had chatted with the auntie full of anticipation: Is it really that magical? If my meridians are blocked, would eating this help?

The auntie slid the white porcelain bowl onto Cheng Fu’s dark tray and began nimbly scooping side dishes, her mouth never stopping: Of course it helps! Since we started serving this spiritual rice, all the top students in the academy have sworn by it not a single one has said a bad word.

So, Cheng Fu had happily accepted her tray and, feeling jaunty, even asked for a second bowl, intending to feast and soothe her wounded soul.

To her horror, she was completely stuffed after only half a bowl.

She couldn’t tell if the effects were extraordinary, but the rice was certainly heavy. Remembering how she had painfully packed two leftovers boxes last night, Cheng Fu couldn’t help but shoot a look at Xin Yunze that one might reserve for a prize-winning pig on a communal farm.

This supposed “genius sword cultivator” was currently burying his face in his bowl with wolfish intensity. Grains of rice clung to the corners of his mouth, though one could still discern that his features were actually quite handsome and refined. Originally a good-looking lad, his elegance had been utterly sacrificed at the altar of gluttony.

This look doesn’t exactly scream “dignified sword master, Cheng Fu thought.

She watched in numb silence for a while before heading to the window to order a plate of stir-fried spiritual greens and braised beast spine. She didn’t dare order rice. The leftovers from yesterday were still in the stasis-cabinet at her lodging an entire plate’s worth, enough for a midnight snack.

She found a seat not far from Xin Yunze. As she ate, she pondered: How do I strike up a conversation with this “Genius Food-Bucket” and leave a good first impression?

The question became moot before she could find an answer. Cheng Fu had barely finished a third of her greens when Xin Yunze swept through his five bowls of rice and four plates of meat like a whirlwind. Having completed a perfect “Clean Plate Club” mission, he let out a casual, soul-shaking burp and vanished as quickly as he had arrived.

Cheng Fu:

Honestly, she wasn’t particularly thrilled about the prospect of conquering a pig that ate that fast.

After dinner, Cheng Fu returned to the Sword-Washing Pool beside Yan Li’s palace.

As a water-type Dharma cultivator with a deep affinity for the element, this pool infused with Yan Li’s water-related sword intent—was the most suitable place for her to train. After settling her mind to sense the spiritual energy within her, she felt refreshed. Her meridians surged with the heat of cultivation; every pore seemed to be screaming to absorb new energy.

Her meridians, which were naturally attuned to the flow of external energy, should have easily formed a cycle to internalize that power into her dantian. But now, it felt as if an invisible, untouchable barrier stood between her body and the essence of the world. The strength she exerted felt like a clay ox entering the sea weightless and without a destination.

The Restriction.

The restriction that Bai Hen, a Shark Immortal, had confessed to being powerless against. The restriction that Yan Li had seen through at a single glance after the Purple Thunder.

Frustrated, Cheng Fu threw her hand out. A gust of wind charged with magic struck the cold pool, sending ripples across the surface. Water droplets leaped into the air, trailed by wisps of steam. After a few heartbeats, the water slowly settled back into stillness.

Her social circle in the Shark tribe had been simple. Her fellow disciples were harmonious; no one held a grudge deep enough to sever her path to the Dao. Furthermore, their strength was limited how could they place a seal that even Bai Hen couldn’t break?

For eighteen years, aside from her infancy floating on the East Sea, Cheng Fu had only ever been in the Shark territories. The furthest she had traveled was Luoshen Island.

Thinking of this, Cheng Fu’s eyes narrowed as she stared at the calm water. This restriction could it be that I was already carrying it before my senior sister ever found me?

She hurried back into the palace, terrified of missing Yan Li’s return. Since Yan Li could identify the seal, she might know its origin. Cheng Fu pulled up a chair and sat by the palace doors, her impatience to find a solution burning hot.

Just as she sat down, a faint blue glow shimmered in front of her.

Yan Li’s cold, melodious voice rang out in the space: I will be away from the academy for a few days. For now, you will only attend theory classes and evening study. Your lodgings have been arranged; I’ve had your belongings moved from your temporary room to your dormitory. Go there directly.

Qinxin Residence, Court Five. There are signposts on the road; it shouldn’t be hard to find.

Cheng Fu was startled, then realized it was a Sound-Recording Spell left by Yan Li.

She stood up and walked out, feeling a bit dejected. Who knows what Yan Li was so busy with, disappearing and leaving only a voice memo? After checking her sword, Cheng Fu followed the signs toward the dormitories.

At this hour, the academy was nearly empty, as silent as any ordinary mountain in the snowfields. Only the flickering lights from the student dorms halfway up the mountain proved that Zhiwang was inhabited.

Cheng Fu followed the lights and soon saw rows of white-walled, black-tiled houses packed closely together. Unlike the dorms in her original world, while these were close together, each was an independent courtyard. The environment was superior, filled with flowers and trees it looked more like a modern boutique vacation resort.

She knocked on the bronze door-ring of Court Five. She heard hurried footsteps approaching. The gate opened, revealing a girl with warm, almond-shaped eyes and a gentle face.

The girl’s smile widened with genuine surprise upon seeing Cheng Fu: Ah you must be the Sword Venerable’s disciple, Cheng Fu! Hello, hello! I’m Chen Qianru. the three of us have been waiting for you!

Infected by the girl’s warmth, Cheng Fu smiled back: Hello, I’m Cheng Fu.

Chen Qianru enthusiastically led Cheng Fu inside, frequently mentioning “the Sword Venerable’s disciple” with a mix of awe and excitement. As they walked side-by-side, Chen Qianru couldn’t help but peek at Cheng Fu.

What a beautiful young lady, she thought. She looks so delicate. If I hadn’t known beforehand, it would be hard to link her to the disciple of the First Sword of the Five Realms.

Cheng Fu chatted with her, but she felt a slight discomfort deep down. The title of Sword Venerable’s Disciple was too blinding. The attention her roommates gave her seemed filtered through that lens they weren’t looking at her, but at the legendary student.

Court Five housed four people. Inside, the other two roommates greeted her warmly. After brief introductions, Cheng Fu learned that Chen Qianru was a Medical Cultivator, while the other two were Sword Cultivators: Yang Yanran, who had long brows and phoenix eyes, and Shen Wenxun, who was shorter with round, chubby cheeks.

Since it was late and they had class the next day, the girls didn’t talk much longer. After taking turns washing up, they settled in to sleep.

As the rhythmic breathing of her roommates filled the room, Cheng Fu stared at the ceiling, feeling complicated. From just a few sentences, she could sense the fanatical devotion the students had for Yan Li. Now, everyone in the academy held her to an impossibly high standard because she was the First Disciple.

Cheng Fu knew she was a hollow expert. She was under the spotlight, and tomorrow, her lack of theoretical knowledge would likely expose her. It would be easy to draw resentment these students had passed rigorous exams to be here. If the Sword Venerable just picked a “nobody” to sit among them, where was the fairness?

She closed her eyes, mentally tracing the meridian pathways for the spells she had practiced. Drowsiness soon took over. In her haze, she remembered Yan Li’s words from the night before:

What kind of person my disciple is I will be the one to back you up.

Suddenly, a wave of unearned peace washed over her. Her heavy heart settled, and she drifted into a deep sleep.

The next morning, Cheng Fu was the first to wake up. Even so, she didn’t dawdle. Knowing she was the one with the least knowledge, arriving early to look over theory scrolls seemed like a good idea.

Her assigned lecture hall already had people in it. Thanks to yesterday’s gossip, the coordinates of this specific classroom had spread through the entire academy. About a dozen students were already scattered about, occupying most of the front-row seats.

The arrival of a new face made them all turn to look. This “First Disciple” looked like a delicate flower pretty, but lacking the rugged resilience one expected from a sword-wielder. If judging by appearances, Cheng Fu was not a traditional sword cultivator.

The front-row disciples shook their heads and returned to their scrolls. Appearances can be deceiving, they thought. How could a disciple of the Sword Venerable be as harmless as she looks? If she caught the Venerable’s eye, she must have extraordinary traits.

Cheng Fu ignored the curious stares, found her seat, and pulled out her textbook. As the room filled up, every newcomer noticed her.

As the sun fully rose, the lessons began. The teacher for Sword Theory was a young man named Du Minglan. He was handsome, well-spoken, and a favorite among the female cultivators for his witty lectures.

Du Minglan set his scrolls on the podium and scanned the students with a beaming smile. He surreptitiously lingered on Cheng Fu for an extra second, his smile deepening. The new disciple had certainly stirred up a storm.

He slowly calibrated a large, translucent white stone used for roll calls, placing his palm on top and injecting spiritual energy. The stone vibrated and emitted a faint but unignorable glowing green light that hovered over the students. The area of the light gradually shrank until, by pure chance, it settled directly on Cheng Fu.

The room went silent. Everyone watched with varying degrees of excitement and curiosity to see how she would perform.

Amidst a collective intake of breath, Du Minglan acted as if he had just realized who she was, opening his mouth in feigned surprise: Oh who is this new face? Could it be that you are the famous Dharma disciple for whom the Sword Venerable made an exception?

Cheng Fu kept a smile on her face while internally offering a warm greeting to the young teacher’s entire family tree. Asking when he clearly knows the answer… he’s definitely a troublemaker, as if the target on my back wasn’t big enough.

Du Minglan smiled even wider. “Ah, is it truly the young mistress Cheng? Then I must test you properly. Here at Zhiwang, we believe in teaching according to the student’s aptitude. Since I am facing the Sword Venerable’s First Disciple, I won’t bother asking about basic sword theory.

His eyes sparkled with mischief. Why don’t we test some theory regarding Dharma cultivators driving a sword?