On The Self-Cultivation Of A Favored Concubine - Chapter 73

On a bustling street, a young girl dressed in sleek black martial attire sat on a stone step by the roadside, eating a stick of tanghulu (candied hawthorns).

Passersby couldn’t help but look back at her and then look again. The reason was simple, no one had ever seen someone eat a stick of candied hawthorns with such cold, ruthless intensity.

Ling sat cross-legged, ignoring everyone. A long sword lay across her knees. Her expression was indifferent, her eyes as cold as ice, even though her mind was currently using every idiom she knew to praise the sweet and sour treats in her mouth.

This was her first time eating something so sweet and tart, and she loved it.

“I want to eat too,” a weak, childlike voice chirped from her sleeve.

Ling lifted her arm. A black egg inside the sleeve rolled around, acting cute and spoiled in an attempt to get a taste of the sugar.

Ling reached in, fished it out, and placed it on her lap. Then, she continued to eat her tanghulu with a completely expressionless face.

The black egg started off excited, but when it realized she had no intention of sharing, a tiny, furious face manifested on the shell.

Ling reached out to stroke it. Her fingers, much like her aura, were as cold as a deep wintry pool and carried a hint of sharp sword intent, causing the black egg, usually steeped in demonic energy to shudder.

Noticing its fear, Ling withdrew her hand and sighed. “Why bother following me then? Living in the elements, no fixed home, enduring such hardships.”

As she recited the idioms, the black egg felt dizzy, it didn’t understand them, so it didn’t realize she was using them incorrectly.

But the black egg insisted on following her, mostly because it had nowhere else to go.

As Ling lamented their lot, she finished off every last bit of the tanghulu right under the egg’s longing gaze.

“You’re so heartless!” the little egg wailed in tearful accusation.

Ling reached out with a finger sticky from maltose and patted the top of the egg. “Be good. You don’t even have a mouth to eat with.”

The black egg finally accepted this tragic reality.

The Fashion Makeover

After finishing her snack, Ling brushed the nonexistent dust off her knees and stood up gracefully. The little egg, having moved past its culinary disappointment, followed her closely.

“Where are we going next?”

“Wherever is beautiful or fun,” Ling said, her lips curling into a smile. Her smile was cold, like winter sunlight, bright, yet chilly. “First, to the clothing shop.”

“Are we buying things~?” The little egg was thrilled. It had long been tired of her drab, pitch-black outfit.

Unexpectedly, Ling picked it up and looked at it with disdain. “Look at the street. Who else runs around without clothes? Just you.” She shook her head. “It’s truly scandalous. Indecent, simply indecent.”

The little egg wanted to argue. Have you ever seen an egg wear clothes?! but it was carried into the shop regardless.

The shopkeeper greeted them warmly. “Young lady, what style of dress are you looking for? We have the latest cuts…”

Clack. Ling placed the little egg on the counter and pointed. “Do you have anything suitable for this?”

The shopkeeper’s eyes nearly popped out. He stared at the pitch-black egg, wondering if it came from a black boned chicken. He had never seen an egg so dark!

Clack. This time, a silver ingot was placed on the counter.

The shopkeeper reacted instantly. “We do!”

Ling smiled again. “Make it pretty.”

The little egg stood still, not daring to protest. Secretly, it was quite happy after all, she was buying “clothes” for it.

The shopkeeper, seeing her sword and the silver, didn’t dare slack off. He hurried to the back, summoned his wife and daughter, and after a quick discussion, his wife tailored a tiny garment. Half a day later, the shopkeeper emerged holding a palm-sized red cloak adorned with tiny pearls.

“Customer, are you satisfied?”

Ling inspected the cloak and nodded. “It’ll do. Put it on,” she told the frozen egg.

The little egg was crying internally. Who wears a cloak as an egg? I’ll look like a lunatic. But, being a coward, it allowed her to drape the flashy red cloak over its shell.

Ling patted the egg and nodded. “The posture of a heavenly egg. Magnificent. Truly excellent.”

The shopkeeper, who was slightly literate, corrected her weakly. “Customer, ‘magnificent’ usually refers to architecture…”

Ling didn’t change her expression. She just shot him a look. Is there a problem with how I use it?

The shopkeeper, having no ambition to be a teacher, chose to shut up.

The “Sexy” Accessory

The little egg rolled out of the shop feeling utterly humiliated in its flamboyant red cloak.

Ling looked at the egg in her palm and smiled. “So heroic. All you’re missing is a trident.”

The little egg gave up. Where do you see ‘heroic’ in an egg?! It thought the ordeal was over, but she wasn’t done.

“You’re always in my sleeve and can’t see the scenery. Come out.”

The egg chirped happily, “Are you finally letting me stand on your shoulder?”

“No.” Her words were like cold water. “Stay in here.”

Ling pulled out a small mesh pouch. A netted pouch. And it was black.

Sensing she was about to pull this “sexy” little net over its head, the egg desperately wanted to grow wings and fly away. But in the end, it couldn’t escape its fate of becoming a “sexy black stocking egg.”

Ling tightened the drawstring. “This way, you can see the view while being carried. Isn’t it great?”

No, it’s not great at all, the egg wept. I’m still a child!

“Even more reason to bag you, so you don’t fall and break,” Ling said calmly as she set off again. Now she could openly carry it without worrying about a naked egg rolling around her sleeve.

The Sea and the Snake

Ling traveled east along the great rivers, wanting to see the legendary ocean. Along the way, they didn’t meet a mermaid, but they did encounter a “snake beauty.”

A beautiful, enchanting woman sat in the middle of the road, holding a pipa and singing a mournful song about a lonely cabbage.

Ling and the little egg: “…”

Jiang Wenwen had followed their scent for a long time. When she finally found them and saw the “black-stocking egg,” her instincts as a pit viper flared, she wanted to take a big bite.

Sensing the snake’s predatory gaze, the black egg shivered and hid inside its red cloak.

Ling pulled the cowardly egg out and looked at the snake with a bold idea. “Why don’t you hatch this egg?”

“I’m… I’m not a snake egg!” the black egg protested.

Jiang Wenwen suppressed her hunger and looked at Ling. “I can, but you have to let me follow you.”

“Fine,” Ling agreed. One follower or two made no difference to her.

They reached the eastern sea during the spring blossom season and settled in a small stone hut. Jiang Wenwen returned to her true form and coiled up. “Bring it here.”

Ling placed the reluctant egg into the snake’s warm embrace.

The Miracle of Birth

Hatching was a long process. Ling spent her days sitting on the seaside rocks, watching the vast ocean and feeling a peace she had never known in the darkness of her past life.

One cycle later, a physically and mentally exhausted Jiang Wenwen crawled out of the hut.

“Is it hatched?” Ling asked eagerly, seeing broken shell fragments on the snake’s scales.

Jiang Wenwen looked frustrated. “Do you know… it… it…”

“What happened?”

“It’s a freaking egg within an egg!”

Inside the broken outer shell was another perfectly intact egg. Jiang Wenwen was on the verge of a breakdown.

“Maybe we shouldn’t hatch it?” Ling suggested.

“No!” a crisp voice popped from the smaller egg.

“I won’t accept defeat!” Jiang Wenwen hissed. “I’m continuing!”

Another cycle passed. Ling paced outside the hut like an expectant father. Suddenly, a soft, delicate crying sound came from inside.

Ling rushed in. Among the shattered shells lay a wailing human female infant.

“Why is there a human baby inside an egg?” Ling was stunned.

“I’m exhausted,” Jiang Wenwen wheezed. “It wasn’t an egg. It was compressed spiritual energy trapping an infant’s soul. I’ve finally hatched her out!”

Ling awkwardly picked up the crying baby.

“Listen to that cry, so delicate. Probably some little princess from a palace,” Jiang Wenwen laughed at Ling’s clumsy handling. “You’re holding her all wrong. Give her to me.”

“Does she have her memories?” Ling asked.

“Her soul was refined, it’s a rebirth. No memories. But the first person these ‘hatched’ babies see is their family.” Jiang Wenwen, overcome with maternal instinct for the creature she worked so hard to hatch, kicked Ling. “What are you staring at? Go find some milk!”

“If you can’t find human milk, get goat milk! Hurry!”

Ling walked out of the hut in a daze. Looking at the “little princess,” she couldn’t help but think: This world is way too surreal.