It Turns Out The Master's Wife Is Actually Me [GL] - Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Cheng Fu had truly not expected that the reward for the Character Testing Realm would be a spot in the Library.

For the current Cheng Fu, this reward held a fatal attraction.

She was a cultivator a Dharma cultivator who held a sword. No cultivator does not crave a breakthrough in realm or possess a fanatical pursuit of profound power. It was for this very reason that her interest in cultivation had plummeted the moment she realized her progress was stagnant, even losing the heart to rest.

What an orthodox cultivator wants most is undoubtedly to become stronger and better. Although she was not the body’s original host, she shared this wish. If she had to pinpoint a reason, it was likely because she felt a strange sense of belonging to this world.

The image of Yan Li cold and detached, swinging her sword to command the wind and snow unbiddenly rose in Cheng Fu’s mind. At the brink of death, during her desperate struggle, a snow-haired, black-eyed female Sword Master had appeared in the white expanse like a gift from the heavens.

At that moment, in Cheng Fu’s dull, unfocused eyes, a brilliant sword light suddenly flashed clear and frigid, much like the surrounding ice and snow washing a thread of exhilarating sweetness and comfort through her very soul.

Before transmigrating, she had studied bitterly to earn that single admission letter. Initially, she was ecstatic, but once she calmed down, she realized her life had only just begun. The days ahead were so long. With no one to accompany her on the long road, it was like a bitter, endless night that refused to break into dawn.

She laughed, she cried, she seemed to fit in and understand others, yet her heart was empty. True friends were few and far between; in the end, she was walking alone, without a destination.

But now it was different. At this moment, she had a sword in her hand and a shard of sword light in her heart.

Cheng Fu gazed absentmindedly at the dark patterns on the sword at her waist and let out a long sigh, feeling her whole body loosen. Her eyes were clear as she looked steadily at Chen Qianru: Let’s team up. I want to make the top five.

Even though she didn’t quite understand why Chen Qianru had proactively invited her to join.

As a Spirit Severing stage Medical cultivator, Chen Qianru would be a highly sought-after healer regardless of where she went. There was absolutely no reason for her to team up with a student who had just enrolled a day ago and knew nothing about the Character Testing Realm.

But Cheng Fu couldn’t afford to care about that.

The Character Testing Realm had a strict limit on team size: exactly five people no more, no less. Having only been enrolled for a day, she hadn’t had time to meet many students or foster any “classmate camaraderie.”

Moreover, the Character Testing was an annual event starting this month. Cheng Fu didn’t want to waste a single second, so she was happy to take whoever was available. Besides, with the recruit being an excellent Medical cultivator, she had no reason to refuse Chen Qianru.

Hearing this, Chen Qianru smiled warmly, unhurriedly picking up the cloth bag of scrolls she had just packed. Her eyes crinkled into crescents: Then let’s work hard together. While the top five won’t be easy to reach, with a disciple of the Sword Master leading the way, it shouldn’t be hopeless.

Fifteen minutes trickled away in the girls’ conversation.

As the noon break ended, Shen, Yang, and Chen all left for their combat practice class. Due to Yan Li’s instructions, Cheng Fu held a special privilege: no other instructors in the academy were responsible for her combat training. Consequently, her afternoon was effectively free.

Since Yan Li had not yet returned to the residence, Cheng Fu had an empty afternoon to herself.

Looking at the vacant Fifth Courtyard, she eventually headed to the Sword-Washing Pool behind Yan Li’s sleeping quarters. Despite her stagnant cultivation, Cheng Fu still came to meditate. The reason lay in the high purity of the water spiritual energy here, which contained much essence. As a Water-attribute Dharma cultivator, meditating here significantly deepened her derivation and understanding of sword intent.

Yan Li’s palace was situated near the mountain peak, even higher than the Headmaster’s residence. The Sword-Washing Pool sat right behind Yan Li’s quarters. Even though it was broad daylight, fierce gales and raging snow persisted, making the climate bitterly cold.

Snowflakes like grains of salt whirled in the wind, harshly scraping against the slowly flowing water of the pool. Whatever spiritual properties the water possessed, it let out a hiss and sent up plumes of white mist upon contact.

Cheng Fu sat cross-legged by the pool, eyes closed, appearing completely oblivious to the outside world. This was largely true; once a cultivator enters a state of deep meditation, their perception of the external environment becomes dull.

Speaking of which, one must mention the Headmaster of Zhiwang. He was a mysterious old man with an unfathomable cultivation level, whose favorite mantra was: Only when one is immersed in the sea of consciousness is it considered true cultivation. The students, used to his nagging, would often mockingly mimic his voice during their free time.

As Cheng Fu was meditating, she felt her mind loosen. Suddenly, the voices of the male students mimicry from after the morning class echoed in her sea of consciousness.

Only when one is immersed in the sea of consciousness, tsk! That is true cultivation.

Cheng Fu:

She opened her eyes in silence, her meditative state instantly broken. Her current body was exceptionally talented, but her heart was still the same one from before the transmigration restless and prone to being influenced by subconscious sounds and images, leading to poor results and short-lived meditation.

Cheng Fu lowered her gaze and, following her body’s muscle memory, cautiously pinched a spell gesture.

With a pop, mottled sparks jumped from her slender white fingertips. As she continuously funneled spiritual power, the flame licked the point of output and suddenly shot up in height.

A radiant warmth spread from her fingertips. Cheng Fu unconsciously curved her lips, feeling a sense of self-satisfaction at the small Spiritual Fire Spell she had produced. She toyed with the spark happily; the flame swayed in the howling cold wind but showed no signs of going out. Being a spiritual fire fueled by energy, its combustion conditions were naturally different from ordinary fire.

In the silver-clad snowy landscape, this bright light was very conspicuous, visible even from a distance.

For a Water Dharma cultivator, you’re playing with fire quite enthusiastically. Yan Li’s voice, cool and indifferent, suddenly drifted from behind her.

Startled, Cheng Fu hurriedly tried to cover the spiritual fire with her hand. Instead of extinguishing as intended, the fire flickered and burned even more vigorously.

With a “hiss,” Cheng Fu was soundly burned by her own clumsy maneuver. The scorch from the spiritual fire instantly turned her delicate white knuckles a deep red.

Yan Li frowned as she watched, a faint, subtle look of disdain crossing her features. She casually flicked a cold sword-wind to douse the flame. There really are Dharma cultivators who manage to burn their own hands with their own spiritual fire.

Her tone was as calm as ever, her expression cold. Had she been any more subtle, Cheng Fu might have actually thought her master was seriously lecturing her.

What do they call this? Playing with fire and getting burned? The snow-haired sword cultivator gave her a half-smile, walked closer, and took hold of Cheng Fu’s reddened hand, pressing her palm down on it.

Yan Li’s hand felt warm to the touch. In this freezing landscape, her long, fair hand lacked any hint of chill; it was as smooth and warm as fine jade. Even the callouses a sword cultivator usually develops were nowhere to be seen on Yan Li’s hands.

With that press accompanied by some unknown spiritual spell the sharp pain in Cheng Fu’s fingers vanished instantly. The red marks remained, but the pain was gone for good.

Cheng Fu looked up at Yan Li in surprise: Master, what kind of spell was that? I’ve been a Dharma cultivator for eighteen years, yet I’ve never heard of such a miraculous and convenient technique.

Yan Li stared at her, seemingly confused by the question. Because it is a Medical cultivator’s Pain-Relief Spell.

Cheng Fu’s surprise deepened: Master, aren’t you a sword cultivator? You actually know Medical spells too?

Yan Li didn’t answer directly, continuing to stare at her. Both were tall, and facing each other at nearly the same height, a strange, hidden tension flickered between them.

The snow-haired Sword Master’s eyes darkened. Her face was cold and expressionless, but her tone was noticeably dejected: I have just returned to the residence. Should your concern not be for how I fared outside, or whether I am injured?

Cheng Fu: Master, you roam the five domains without rival. You are naturally safe whenever you go out. As your disciple, I should have absolute confidence in your professional abilities.

Yan Li remained silent. The swirling snow began to fall more heavily. The cool, white-haired Sword Master and her vibrant-looking disciple stood face-to-face until their eyelashes were dusted with white frost.

Sensing that her master wasn’t particularly happy, Cheng Fu took a step forward and said sincerely, Master, I was wrong. Next time you return from your travels, your disciple will be the first to welcome you, ask after your well-being, and give you the most meticulous care!

Only then did Yan Li speak, her features softening slightly. Good that you know. Let’s go. We shall talk inside the palace.

Upon entering Yan Li’s palace, Cheng Fu’s eyes were momentarily jarred by the dim light, and she blinked repeatedly. Outside was a world of bright daylight, where the sky and the white snow combined to create an intensely luminous environment. Stepping into the palace made the contrast between light and shadow starkly apparent.

Moreover, Yan Li seemed to have a preference for placing dim candlesticks throughout her palace, covered with yellow shades that made the light feel murky and amber.

The cultivation world was generally generous with resources; it was rather strange for a Sword Master to use such dim, cheap lighting. While hanging spiritual lamps were more expensive, someone of Yan Li’s reputation and strength the number one sword in the Five Domains would never lack for money or treasures. If Yan Li so much as hinted at a need, crowds of people would scramble to offer her riches.

Cheng Fu retracted her gaze, no longer scrutinizing the palace’s decor. The light was too dim, making the objects in the room appear shadowy and blurred. She didn’t understand why Yan Li arranged things this way. Perhaps the Sword Master’s tastes were “vintage,” and she simply loved this kind of murky light?

Yan Li found a seat as usual and turned to Cheng Fu: You sit too.

Cheng Fu understood immediately. Her master was making it clear she didn’t want to put on airs.

One must understand that a master’s status in the cultivation world is no less than that of one’s own parents sometimes even greater. Any cultivator with a master treats them with the utmost reverence, almost like a deity.

Fundamentally, this was because once a cultivator steps onto the immortal path, their life trajectory diverges completely from that of ordinary people. Cultivation is, in itself, the act of severing one’s mortal ties. While one might still feel affection or concern for birth parents, a hundred years later, the cultivator’s journey has only just begun, while the parents have long since returned to the earth.

A hundred years is enough to change far too much. Mortal ties scatter in the blink of an eye. Because a cultivator’s path is so long, the connections they hold change drastically over the centuries.

In the eyes of a cultivator, the only person who can accompany them for a long time acting as both teacher and friend—is summarized in two words: Master.