The Azure Sword Sect's flying ship arrived back at the Cloudsoaring Peak just as the afternoon sun began to dip behind the mountains.
The moment they landed, Tantai Zhi didn't let Yan Shuo walk down the ramp. She insisted the mountain air was too chilly for his fragile state after his terrifying ordeal in the dark ruin. Before he could even protest, she scooped him up into a princess carry and floated gracefully toward their jade estate.
Sect Master Zhao, who had been waiting at the landing pad to greet them, nearly choked on his own saliva. He watched the absolute peak expert of the continent carry a fifteen-year-old boy like a precious porcelain doll, completely ignoring the sect elders bowing around them.
"Sect Master," Elder Li whispered, his face pale as he watched them leave. "I just received a sound transmission from the Alliance encampment. The Saintess... she shattered the portal to the Mystic Realm. The Asura's Vault is gone forever."
Sect Master Zhao closed his eyes and let out a long, exhausted breath.
"Just nod and smile, Elder Li," Zhao muttered weakly. "As long as she doesn't shatter our mountain, I don't care if she shattered the moon. Let them be."
---
Inside the grand master bedroom of the Cloudsoaring estate, Yan Shuo was sitting comfortably on the edge of the massive jade bed.
He had his right sleeve rolled up.
Tantai Zhi was kneeling on the floor in front of him, her flawless face drawn into a mask of supreme, deadly seriousness. She held a small, glowing jade jar in her pale hands. The room was filled with the incredibly crisp, refreshing scent of mint and pure spiritual energy.
It was the sect's legendary Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Lotus Ointment. A single drop could regrow a severed limb or cure a lethal poison in seconds. It was a national treasure.
Tantai Zhi carefully scooped out a generous, glowing glob of the ointment and gently massaged it into Yan Shuo's perfectly fine, completely unbruised elbow.
"Does it still hurt, Husband?" she asked softly, blowing a gentle breath of cool air over his skin. Her golden eyes were swirling with worry. "If the pain reaches your bones, I can forcefully inject my Yin Qi to numb the nerves."
Yan Shuo looked at his perfectly healthy arm, then at the priceless ointment she was casually wasting like cheap hand lotion.
He let out a weak, pathetic sigh.
"It's feeling much better, Wife," Yan Shuo lied smoothly, gently stroking her black hair with his free hand. "Your touch works faster than any medicine. I was just so startled in that dark cavern. I'm glad I'm home."
Tantai Zhi melted against his knee, her terrifying, world-ending aura completely neutralized by his praise. "I will never let you go to a dark place alone again," she promised fiercely. "Next time the Alliance sends a decree, I will simply mail them the Sect Master's head in a box as a polite refusal."
Yan Shuo chuckled, deciding it was time to change the subject before Sect Master Zhao actually lost his head. He had a massive storage ring burning a hole in his pocket, and he needed a few minutes alone to sort through his loot.
"Wife, my elbow is fully healed," Yan Shuo said, gently rolling his sleeve back down. "But dealing with all that stale swamp air has left my throat incredibly dry. Ordinary tea just won't do."
Tantai Zhi immediately perked up, her eyes wide and attentive. "What does Husband desire? Spirit wine? The nectar of a Heavenly Peach?"
Yan Shuo tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I've heard that the water from the peak of the sect's highest waterfall—the Cloud-Piercing Falls—is incredibly pure if caught directly from the morning mist. But the sun is setting. It would require someone with flawless, supreme-level Qi control to condense the lingering mist into water without ruining the spiritual flavor."
He gave her a deeply admiring look. "Is that something you could do for me?"
Tantai Zhi stood up so fast her crimson robes snapped in the air. Her eyes were practically glowing with absolute determination.
"I will be back in three minutes," she declared. "I will filter the mist through my own soul if I have to. Rest here, Husband!"
She didn't even use the door. She simply phased through the bamboo screen, rocketing into the evening sky like a crimson shooting star, desperate to prove her usefulness to the man she was obsessed with.
Yan Shuo waited exactly ten seconds to make sure her spiritual sense was out of range.
Then, the lazy, pampered husband completely vanished.
His eyes sharpened into the cold, calculating gaze of a veteran warlord. He stood up, flicked his wrist, and sent a pulse of golden Foundation Establishment Qi into the walls of the bedroom, instantly erecting a soundproof, isolation array.
"Alright," Yan Shuo cracked his knuckles. "Let's see what century-old compound interest looks like."
He raised his left hand and poured a fraction of his Qi into the high-tier storage ring.
Whoosh!
A massive pile of glowing, milky-white Spirit Stones cascaded onto the floor, instantly filling the entire corner of the bedroom. The ambient spiritual energy in the room skyrocketed so fast that the wooden furniture began to sprout tiny green leaves.
Yan Shuo ignored the money. He already knew he was filthy rich. He mentally sifted through the massive spatial dimensions of the ring, bypassing the mountains of gold and basic herbs, until he found his personal weapon rack.
With a thought, a heavy, imposing weapon materialized in his grip.
It was a terrifying, jet-black halberd. The shaft was carved with intricate, roaring demonic dragons, and the curved blade radiated a suffocating, bloodthirsty aura. This was the Abyssal Dragon Spear. It was his signature weapon in his past life, a supreme-tier artifact that had claimed the lives of countless grandmasters.
Yan Shuo held it, feeling the familiar, heavy balance in his hands. The weapon let out a low, vibrating hum, recognizing its master's soul.
"Good to see you too, old friend," Yan Shuo murmured.
But as he looked at the violently swirling dark Qi leaking from the blade, he sighed and tossed it back into the storage ring.
It was way too flashy. If he walked out of the courtyard holding the Abyssal Dragon Spear, every elder in the Righteous Alliance would instantly recognize it. His peaceful, soft-rice retirement would be over in a heartbeat, replaced by endless crusades and assassination attempts.
"I need something plain," Yan Shuo muttered, digging back into the ring's inventory. "Something that screams 'I am a weak, useless piece of trash' but won't shatter when I channel my golden Qi into it."
After a minute of searching through the junk pile of weapons he had looted from defeated enemies a century ago, he found it.
He pulled out a heavy, utterly unadorned black iron sword. It had no glow, no aura, and no decorative hilts. It looked like a standard practice sword you could buy in any mortal blacksmith's shop for three copper coins. But Yan Shuo knew that this sword was forged from a single piece of Deep Sea Meteorite. It was incredibly heavy and practically indestructible.
"Perfect," Yan Shuo smiled, strapping the plain black sword to his waist. It completed his disguise flawlessly. He just looked like a poor outer sect kid who couldn't even afford a proper glowing saber.
He quickly swept the mountains of Spirit Stones back into the ring, leaving the bedroom completely spotless.
Just as the last stone vanished into his sleeve, the isolation array flickered.
Yan Shuo instantly dropped his aura, slouching back onto the edge of the jade bed and putting on a mild, pleasant smile.
A split second later, Tantai Zhi phased back through the bamboo screen.
She was holding a beautiful, crystal-clear jade flask. The water inside glowed with a faint, ethereal blue light, completely saturated with pure spiritual mist. She looked incredibly proud of herself, her chest puffed out slightly as she hurried over to him.
"I have returned, Husband!" she announced, carefully pouring the glowing water into a teacup. "I caught the mist just as it touched the peak. It is perfectly chilled."
Yan Shuo took the cup and took a slow sip. The water was crisp, sweet, and washed down his throat like liquid silk.
"It's absolutely wonderful, Wife," Yan Shuo praised her, his eyes crinkling in a genuine smile. "You truly are amazing."
Tantai Zhi beamed, her cheeks flushing pink. She sat down next to him on the bed, leaning her head happily against his shoulder.
"Husband," she said softly, playing with the edge of his white sleeve. "While I was at the waterfall, Sect Master Zhao sent a sound transmission. He was too terrified to come to our courtyard himself."
Yan Shuo raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Did the Righteous Alliance send another decree to complain about their broken ruin?"
"No, it isn't the Alliance," Tantai Zhi frowned slightly, a hint of dark irritation leaking into her voice. "Sect Master Zhao said there is an annoying mortal carriage parked at the base of the mountain. A woman is demanding to be let into the Azure Sword Sect. She claims she has official business with you."
Yan Shuo blinked, completely caught off guard. "Official business with me? A woman?"
He quickly searched through the fuzzy, painful memories of the fifteen-year-old kid whose body he had hijacked. The original Yan Shuo was a starving orphan taken in by the outer sect. He didn't have any powerful backers, he didn't have any secret benefactors, and he certainly didn't know any women who traveled in carriages.
Wait.
A specific, deeply buried memory surfaced.
A piece of cheap, folded paper hidden under the kid's moldy mattress. An old, arranged marriage contract made between the kid's deceased parents and a minor merchant family in a mortal city down the mountain.
The original Yan Shuo had a fiancée.
A fiancée who had completely ignored his existence for the past ten years because he was a crippled piece of garbage. But now, rumors were likely spreading down the mountain that the "trash" Yan Shuo was suddenly living in the Grand Elder's estate and was backed by the continent's strongest expert.
Yan Shuo's lips twitched.
Oh, this is going to be hilarious, he thought. The classic 'broken engagement' trope had walked right up to his front door, but she was entirely too late to the party.
"A woman?" Tantai Zhi repeated, her voice dropping to a terrifying, icy whisper. She slowly lifted her head from his shoulder. Her golden eyes were suddenly completely devoid of light. The sweet, doting wife was gone, replaced by a violently jealous yandere.
"Husband," she asked, her pale fingers slowly creeping toward the hilt of her sword. "Who is she? Why does she want to see you? Should I go down there and remove her tongue?"
The air in the bedroom instantly dropped below freezing.
Yan Shuo couldn't help but laugh. He wrapped his arm around Tantai Zhi's waist, pulling her flush against his side to stop her from instantly committing murder.
"Don't take her tongue just yet, Wife," Yan Shuo chuckled, his eyes gleaming with pragmatic amusement. "I think this is a ghost from the past coming to ask for money. Let's go down to the sect gates and see what she wants. I haven't watched a good comedy in a hundred years."