My System, My Wife Feng Aotian [Transmigration] - Chapter 41.2

After enduring their taunts for a long moment, she finally turned and strode away without a word. Watching her seething back disappear into the distance, the Peak Masters she had suppressed for years finally exhaled, their eyebrows lifting in triumph. They erupted in laughter once more.

The 03 Ball flew out from Feng Jue’s palm and settled on her shoulder.

Feng Jue climbed slowly up the bluestone steps of the mountain path, her gaze fixed on the intricate patterns in the stone beneath her feet. Her skirt brushed against the foliage on either side, shaking frost and snow down the mountain.

The 03 Ball spun halfway around, glancing back over her shoulder.

Qihuang Hall stood majestically above, watching them ascend like snails.

The hall served as a stark boundary, dividing early summer from midwinter with absolute clarity.

The snow, born of the System’s sword energy and concealed within the Barrier, drifted endlessly downward, buoyed by the White Crane’s relentless curiosity. Since Feng Jue emerged from seclusion, only the mountain paths had been swept clear by the palace attendants. If not for their spiritual energy, the mountains and vegetation would have long since withered and died under the relentless snowfall.

The mountain path echoed with Feng Jue’s footsteps, accompanied by the clear clinking of the jade pendant at her waist and the rhythmic jingling of the pendant in her hair.

Swish, swish, rustle.

The jade pendant swayed above the head of the crouching System.

03 tilted its head, gently nudging Feng Jue’s cheek, and virtual text floated out from the 03 Ball:

Host’s Favor: +1

“Long ago, Mother often took me on this path,” Feng Jue suddenly said, her red lips parting to reveal a hint of white breath. She glanced sideways at the small system perched on her shoulder, held up a hand to gauge its height, and continued, “Back then, I hadn’t yet begun cultivating, and I wasn’t even as tall as the cranes on the mountain. Mother would lead me up the mountain, then down, and then back up again.”

The matchstick-like legs of 03 drooped as it listened intently.

“Mother would ask me, ‘Does climbing the mountain tire you out?'”

Feng Jue said, “I would say, ‘Yes, it does.'”

“One time, I climbed the mountain until I fell ill. Mother fed me medicine—a dark, bitter liquid that was hard to swallow. She asked me if it tasted bitter…”

“It wasn’t bitter,” Feng Jue said, her voice thick with emotion. “But I cried and insisted it was.” As if reminiscing about her childhood self, Feng Jue couldn’t help but chuckle.

Her laughter drifted down onto the snow.

03 wasn’t sure why Feng Jue had suddenly brought up the past, but it listened intently, its comically dark eye patches fixed on her.

After her laughter subsided, Feng Jue gazed at the snow-covered mountains.

The distant peaks were as blue as a painting, while the nearby landscape was bleak and desolate. Despite the stark contrast, the combined scene held a refined charm.

Feng Jue spoke, her voice soft: “After I finished crying, my mother told me that the path of immortal cultivation is more exhausting than climbing mountains and more bitter than medicine. She asked me if, after all that fatigue and tears, I still wanted to cultivate and become an immortal.”

“I said yes.”

Feng Jue chuckled, her languid voice brightening with amusement. “I told my mother that if I became an immortal, I’d be able to fly through the heavens and roam the earth, free from all limitations. I’d never fear climbing mountains again, nor suffer from the fatigue of drinking medicine.”

“My mother laughed heartily and passed on her cultivation technique to me.”

Feng Jue added, “That year, I was six.”

03 froze.

Six years old—the age at which Feng Jue’s mother had passed away.

Feng Jue resumed walking, her voice calm. “When we first met, you asked if I had any elders who could arrange my marriage. In truth, I only had my mother. My grandmother, the Old Palace Master of Lanyang Palace, passed away centuries ago. Do you know why she arranged my marriage across those centuries?” Feng Jue tilted her head, smiling at 03.

“03 doesn’t know.”

Feng Jue said, “Bai Fenghui was right. The cultivation technique my mother passed down to me is indeed incomplete. If I can’t complete it, continuing to cultivate will only lead to one path.”

Death.

The rims of 03’s eyes narrowed, and it couldn’t resist reaching out to press its hand against Feng Jue’s cheek. “Please, Host, don’t die,” it said. It opened the System Mall and asked, “Feng Jue, what’s the name of the cultivation technique you’re cultivating?”

Feng Jue replied softly, “The Phoenix Art.”

03 quickly searched the mall. Countless cultivation techniques related to phoenixes appeared, transforming into floating panels before Feng Jue. She glanced at each one, then smiled helplessly. “It’s not here.”

“I once thought, since you’re so omnipotent, you might be able to conjure up the remaining half of the technique. But fantasies remain just that. It seems the Heavenly Dao has decreed that some things are not meant to be altered.”

Undeterred, 03 persisted, refreshing the search and trying different keywords.

Feng Jue reached out and removed the busy system from her shoulder, cradling it in her palm. “Stop for a moment and listen to me first,” she said. “Weren’t you always wanting to hear this story?”

The system’s frantic virtual panels, which had flooded the entire mountain forest, instantly retracted as the matchstick-like figure stilled and obediently hung limp.

“Let’s see… Oh, right, the engagement,” Feng Jue said. “The Phoenix Art was obtained by my grandmother through divine providence. She knew the cultivation technique was incomplete, yet she persisted in her practice, believing she would eventually find the missing half. Alas, heaven had other plans…”

Feng Jue looked up toward the mountain peak, then continued climbing as she spoke softly, “Her immortal destiny shattered, she used a secret method to conceive my mother, established Lanyang Palace, nurtured her, and arranged my engagement to Xue Bufan before her death. At the time, my mother had no romantic attachment.”

“Looking back now, I realize it was all out of her deep love for her daughter.” 03 paused, then added in its cool, measured voice, “The Phoenix Art is overwhelmingly potent, requiring an exceptionally compatible spiritual root from a dual cultivation partner. Finding a true love in this world is already difficult enough, let alone someone who meets such stringent criteria. By not passing the Phoenix Art to my mother and arranging this marriage, your grandmother hoped to spare her from following the same path. But when the Jiutian Cult later grew rampant, my mother resolutely chose to cultivate the Phoenix Art to save the world, trading her immortal destiny for peace and prosperity across the land.”

A flood of emotions welled up within 03. It touched its own form and said slowly, “Your mother was a truly admirable person.”

Feng Jue smiled proudly. “Indeed.”

When Feng Jue spoke of her mother, her voice was filled with reverence and nostalgia. She said gently, “After the great war, my mother, still recovering from her severe injuries, used a Stillborn Phoenix Fetus and the same secret technique to bring me into the world.”

Feng Jue raised her arm for 03 to see. Beneath her fair, soft skin, azure veins coursed with Phoenix Bloodline.

The bubble above 03’s head popped onto its head. It said, “Phoenix Bloodline and the Phoenix Art… it sounds perfectly matched.”

Feng Jue stared at her arm, her voice slow. “Indeed. How pitiful are the hearts of parents. My mother followed the same path as her mother. She couldn’t stop death, but she didn’t want me to walk the same path. She searched for cultivation techniques for me, but I refused to abandon the Phoenix Art.”

Her voice grew heavier, as if she were seeing her future and glimpsing different paths.

The three generations of her family were trapped under this cultivation technique. She wanted to find the other half of the technique to console the spirits of her two parents in heaven. She wanted to prove that the Feng family would never be confined by this path!

Qihuang Hall loomed before her. White Cranes soared, their wings stirring clear snow as they soared beyond the azure lines into the sky.

Amidst drifting clouds, Feng Jue gazed at the distant mountains.

“Grandmother loved her daughter so deeply she couldn’t bear to let her die. She trapped her with a marriage contract, leaving room for me to exist. Mother loved me and didn’t want me to follow the same path, but in the end, she chose to let me choose.”

“I was gifted with exceptional talent from a young age, born and raised within the walls of Lanyang Palace. Surrounded by countless experts, blessed with extraordinary talent, and equipped with the most suitable cultivation technique, how could I possibly give up?” Feng Jue clenched her fist, her determined gaze burning beneath her long lashes. She enunciated each word deliberately: “My name is Feng Jue, and I cultivate the Phoenix Art. My lifelong aspiration is to find the Empress Art and achieve the Great Dao—a wish shared by three generations of our family. The cultivation of the Phoenix Art is irreversible. Even if I were to switch to another path, its flaws would be deeply rooted in my Spiritual Sea.”

“If I seek the path of immortality, the Great Dao must be perfected. Without the Empress Art, I would meet the same fate as my two elders: exhausting my lifespan and dying like an oil lamp running out of fuel.” Feng Jue swept her sleeve and led 03 to a side chamber in Qihuang Hall. She pushed open the window, directing 03’s gaze toward a portrait hanging on the wall.

The woman in the painting was strikingly beautiful, her luminous eyes as radiant as Feng Jue’s own.

Feng Jue smiled faintly at her mother’s portrait and murmured, “I want to become her, yet I don’t want to be like her.”

“Even if I die gloriously, I refuse to live an ordinary, hopeless life.”

As a phoenix, I must make all under heaven bow before me!

With a defiant smile, Feng Jue swept her sleeve to close the window. She transformed into a streak of light, flying back to her bedroom and settling onto the inner chamber’s couch.

Mission: Listen to Feng Jue speak of the past.

Status: Completed.

The text on the floating panel grayed out. Hovering before Feng Jue, 03 said, “Feng Jue, I’ll help you search. Let’s find it together.”

New text lit up on the panel. 03 bolded the “Search for the Phoenix Art” quest and placed it prominently at the top.

Feng Jue leaned against the soft couch, her pale fingers propping up her cheek as she gazed at 03 with smiling eyes.

The silver System spoke earnestly, “I’ll not only help you find the Phoenix Art, but I’ll protect you too. Whether it’s Nie Xiu, Nie You, or Nie Cha, none of them will harm you.”

Feng Jue’s gaze swept across the list of quests on the System panel. She knew 03 always kept its word—System. She had no secrets left from 03.

She had always kept the matter of her cultivation technique hidden. As the Palace Master of Lanyang Palace, she never showed weakness, never wanted anyone to think she was fragile, and never shared her past with anyone. Yet now she had told 03 so much… This newfound intimacy made her feel mischievous. Feng Jue curled her lips and asked teasingly, “How exactly will you protect me?”

Before 03 could draw its sword, Feng Jue continued, “You’re just a little bead. I wouldn’t dare let outsiders see you. As you can see, there are so many villains out there, shouting about how those of different races have different hearts.”

“It’s because we’ve shared so much together now,” Feng Jue said, her fingers sinking into her snow-white cheeks as she recalled their first meeting. A faint smile played on her lips as she continued, “If we’d met like this for the first time, and an invisible, intangible silver mass claimed to be omnipotent and wanted to protect me, I’d only suspect someone was putting on a mystical act, using extraordinary tricks to avoid showing their true face. How could I believe you?”

“But now…” Feng Jue gazed at the tangible beads, her chin lifting with restrained pride. Before she could finish, bubbles appeared above 03’s head.

Feng Jue paused, waiting for 03 to express its emotions.

The bubbles remained blank, drifting for a long moment before slowly descending. They rose again, then finally vanished.

03 remained silent, its voice softer than usual when it spoke, “Feng Jue, you once said that if I appeared in this form, it would draw attention and cause trouble.” Golden threads, like gilded needles, embroidered a tapestry of flowers across crimson brocade, laid upon jade bricks beneath red tiles, reflecting a dazzling array of splendor.

The silver System settled at the crimson center.

On the couch, Feng Jue’s gaze followed its descent, her red lips curving as she murmured, “I was worried about you—”

Her words were abruptly cut off by a blinding white light.

The dazzling glow made direct gaze impossible. Feng Jue startled and turned away. When the light faded, she turned back with a frown, her pupils suddenly contracting.

Within the palace, the silver beads atop the vermilion platform had vanished, replaced by a silver-haired beauty, completely naked, as flawless as pure jade.

The hall’s resplendent treasures paled in comparison to her luminous radiance.

Feng Jue, reclining on the soft couch, bolted upright, staring at the bewildered woman. A sudden light kindled in her eyes, her voice catching in her throat.

A cool, clear voice, now matched to a worthy vessel, spoke calmly. The woman, housing 03’s soul, addressed her: “Feng Jue.”

“Does this form protect you?”

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