Chapter 16: Turned Back into an Egg

Lin Jingzhe raised an eyebrow.

The movement was subtle, but Shen Mo understood it—she was reassessing him, looking at him with a gaze different from before.

“I heard you’re very virtuous,” she said.

The words came from her mouth with an indescribable meaning. It was as if she were telling a joke, or perhaps testing something.

Shen Mo remained silent.

Lin Jingzhe waited for a breath, but no answer came.

Her brow twitched slightly.

“What?” she asked. “Can’t you speak?”

“I can,” Shen Mo replied, his voice as flat as plain water. “I simply don’t know what you wish to ask.”

Lin Jingzhe looked at him, a flicker of interest flashing in the depths of her eyes.

That interest was faint, like a ripple on the water’s surface that vanished in an instant. But Shen Mo saw it.

He suddenly thought of another person.

Qin Shuying.

When that woman had looked at him for the first time, her eyes held a similar interest.

But it was different.

Qin Shuying’s interest was cold and condescending, the look one gave when appraising prey. The interest of the person before him, however—

It was scrutiny.

It was curiosity.

It was the kind of provocation that said, ‘I want to see what you’re actually capable of.’

“I heard,” Lin Jingzhe suddenly took a step forward, closing the distance between them, “that before my master entered seclusion, people from Yunyin Mountain visited?”

Shen Mo’s heart tightened.

Watching the shift in his expression at that moment, the interest in Lin Jingzhe’s eyes deepened.

“Lady Yunhe,” she said, enunciating every word, “comes to see you often?”

Shen Mo clenched his hands inside his sleeves.

“You have just returned; you must be tired. Go back to the peak to rest first. If there is anything to say, we can speak another day.”

He turned to leave.

“Stand still.”

The two words weren’t loud, yet they carried the heavy pressure of a Golden Core Stage cultivator.

Shen Mo’s footsteps halted.

It wasn’t that he wanted to stop.

It was that the pressure weighed down on his shoulders, making it so he couldn’t take a single step.

Lin Jingzhe walked over and circled around to face him.

She was about half a head taller than him. At this distance, he had to tilt his face up slightly to look into her eyes.

Those eyes were very close to him now.

They were startlingly bright.

“Shen Mo,” she called his name, one syllable at a time, as if savoring a flavor, “you’ve done quite a lot for Jiaoyue Peak over these seven years, haven’t you?”

Shen Mo did not speak.

Lin Jingzhe didn’t wait for his answer.

She continued, “The accounts of the Spirit Beast Garden were built by your hand. The income of the Treasury increases year after year. You have never made a mistake in the social dealings with the other peaks. Everyone praises your virtue, saying you are the most qualified Husband.”

As she said this, her gaze remained fixed on his face.

Shen Mo didn’t know what she was trying to get at.

“But I’m curious about one thing.” Lin Jingzhe leaned in a step closer, close enough that he could smell the scent on her—it was the smell of travel, mixed with a faint, lingering scent of blood, as if she had just returned from some dangerous place.

“What?”

Lin Jingzhe looked at him and suddenly smiled.

That smile was different from her previous provocation. It carried a hint of—

Playfulness.

“You’re so virtuous,” she said. “Does my master know?”

Shen Mo was stunned.

Seeing his dazed expression, something flashed through Lin Jingzhe’s eyes.

In that instant, it passed too quickly for Shen Mo to see clearly.

But she saw clearly.

She saw the fluctuation in his eyes, his tightly pursed lips, and his slightly trembling eyelashes.

‘Interesting,’ she thought.

This Husband was far more interesting than she had imagined.

“Senior Sister Lin,” a nearby disciple stepped forward cautiously, “the Lord didn’t rest well last night. Perhaps…”

“Didn’t rest well last night?” Lin Jingzhe interrupted, her gaze falling back onto Shen Mo’s face. “Why didn’t you rest well?”

Shen Mo looked at her and said nothing.

Lin Jingzhe waited for a breath. Nothing came.

She suddenly let out a laugh.

In that laugh, there was disappointment, playfulness, and even a hint of—threat.

“Never mind.” She took a step back and waved her hand. “I’m tired. I’ll go back and rest. I will come to consult the Lord another day—on how exactly you’ve held this peak for my master all these years.”

Finished, she turned and left.

After walking a few steps, she suddenly stopped.

“By the way.” She didn’t look back. “Where did the Lord pick up that scent on your body?”

Shen Mo’s heart lurched.

Scent?

“It’s very cold,” Lin Jingzhe said. “Like snow, and like a sword.”

Having said that, she continued forward.

Her black-clad figure moved through the crowd and disappeared at the end of the corridor.

Shen Mo stood in place, his entire body stiff.

He looked down and sniffed his sleeve.

There was nothing.

But Lin Jingzhe said there was a scent.

Qin Shuying’s scent.

He gripped his sleeves until his knuckles turned white.

The surrounding people dispersed, returning to their tasks. Only he remained, staring in the direction Lin Jingzhe had vanished.

The sunlight was beautiful.

It felt warm against his body.

And yet, he felt cold.

A coldness that seeped out from the marrow of his bones.

He thought of Lin Jingzhe’s words—”You’re so virtuous, does my master know?”

Master.

Su Wan’er.

His wife.

The person he had protected for seven years.

The person he had protected with his mouth last night.

She knew nothing.

She would never know anything.

Shen Mo closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Then, he opened them and continued toward the study.

The ledgers weren’t finished yet.

The day’s work wasn’t done.

He still had to live.

He had to live like a qualified Husband.

……

Lin Jingzhe walked quickly.

She passed through the corridor, skirted the martial arts field, and entered the bamboo grove on the back mountain before slowing her pace.

The rustling bamboo leaves masked the noise behind her. She stopped, leaning against the nearest stalk of green bamboo, and took a deep breath.

It had been seven years.

In these seven years, she had traveled across the East Continent, entered the Demon Realm, braved secret realms, killed monsters at the peak of the Golden Core Stage, and seen thousands of cultivators vanish before her eyes. She thought her heart had long since turned to stone, that nothing could move her again.

But just now, her heart had skipped a beat.

That Husband.

Her master’s Husband.

He stood in the sunlight wearing ordinary moon-white robes, his hair held up by a wooden hairpin, without a single piece of jewelry of any value on his person.

Such a man, placed in a crowd, wouldn’t be noticed at a glance.

But when he met her gaze—

Lin Jingzhe’s brow furrowed.

She couldn’t describe the feeling.

Those eyes were very still, like a pool of stagnant water.

But beneath that stagnant water, something was clearly moving. It wasn’t fear, nor was it avoidance, but something deep and heavy that she couldn’t understand.

It was as if he were hiding many things.

As if he were holding back many words.

As if he were being pressed down by something, pressed for far too long, until he was almost unable to breathe, yet he was still holding on.

And then there was that scent.

That cold fragrance, that faint trace of Sword Qi—

Lin Jingzhe closed her eyes, searching her memories.

She had definitely smelled that scent before. Where? When?

Suddenly, she opened her eyes.

Qin Shuying.

The Peak Master of Heavenly Sword Peak, Qin Shuying.

Four years ago, while traveling past the base of Heavenly Sword Peak, she had seen that legendary Peak Master from afar.

That day, Qin Shuying was practicing her sword at the mountain peak.

Her frost-white figure merged with the swirling snow, and her Sword Qi surged into the sky, so intense it made Lin Jingzhe’s hand tremble as she practiced Sword Kinesis.

That scent was exactly the same as the one on Shen Mo today.

Cold.

Sharp.

Carrying the unique pressure of a Nascent Soul cultivator. Ordinary people couldn’t even get close to it, let alone bear it.

Lin Jingzhe’s heart sank.

She remembered the instant change in Shen Mo’s eyes when he heard the name “Lady Yunhe.” She remembered the way he gripped his sleeves. She remembered his slightly trembling eyelashes.

And the scent of another woman on him.

Her master’s Husband was stained with another woman’s scent.

And that woman was the Peak Master of Heavenly Sword Peak, one of the most powerful people in Yunyin Mountain.

‘Interesting.’

‘Truly interesting.’

She had returned intending to see what kind of man her master’s Husband was, and whether he was worth her master’s trust.

If the man was useless, she planned to persuade her master to find another—after all, if a Husband was gone, one could always marry another.

But now it seemed…

She shook her head, suppressing those chaotic thoughts.

……

Shen Mo sat in the study until the sun began to set.

The ledgers were finished, the inventory for the Treasury was checked, and the items needed for tomorrow were organized. Everything that needed to be done was done, but he didn’t want to go back to his room.

Going back meant being alone.

And being alone meant thinking about many terrible things.

He leaned against the back of his chair, watching the sky darken through the window.

The evening glow burned half the sky red, like clusters of fire that made one’s heart uneasy.

Footsteps suddenly sounded outside the door.

“Lord! Lord!”

It was Manager Zheng’s voice, frantic and off-key.

Shen Mo pushed himself up, realizing he was still wearing yesterday’s clothes. He hurriedly tidied his robes and walked over to pull open the door.

Manager Zheng stood outside, drenched in sweat, his face as white as paper.

“What’s wrong?”

“Lord,” Manager Zheng panted, his voice shaking, “the Spirit Beast Garden… that Golden-feathered Chicken… it… it’s turned into an egg!”

Shen Mo froze.

…

A crowd had already gathered at the Spirit Beast Garden.

Shen Mo pushed through them and saw the cage that had originally held the Golden-feathered Chicken—it was empty, except for an egg lying quietly on the pile of hay.

The egg was twice the size of a fist and entirely snow-white, but beneath that white, a layer of faint golden light shimmered. Fine lines covered the shell, looking like sword marks or perhaps some kind of ancient runes.

Shen Mo crouched down, looking at the egg through the cage.

“When was this discovered?”

“This morning,” Manager Zheng said from the side. “I came to feed it, and as soon as I opened the door, I saw… I saw this. The chicken was gone, leaving only this egg. I’ve lived all these years and never seen such a thing! How can a chicken turn back into an egg? It’s not like a snake shedding its skin—”

Shen Mo did not speak.

He reached out and put his hand into the cage.

The moment his fingertip touched the shell, a surge of scorching heat rushed up, making his finger flinch back.

That aura—

It was very hot.

It was very sharp.

Like a sword just drawn from a furnace.

Shen Mo’s heart skipped a beat.

He remembered the power he had felt inside the chick when he was treating it. That power he had never seen before—scorching and sharp, like a sword hidden in a scabbard.

That wasn’t a power a Golden-feathered Chicken should have.

What was it?

“Lord,” Manager Zheng leaned in, lowering his voice, “this is too bizarre. Should… should I dispose of it?”

“No need.”

Shen Mo stood up, staring at the egg.

“Go to the Treasury and bring the Spirit Beast Compendium.”

Manager Zheng acknowledged the order and ran off.

Shen Mo stood there, watching the egg. The runes on the shell shimmered with a faint golden light in the sun, as if they were alive and slowly flowing.

He remembered how the chick looked when it first hatched—its legs were as soft as noodles, and it couldn’t even struggle to stand.

He had used Spiritual Power to reconnect its meridians, watched it get better bit by bit, watched it grow pale gold feathers, and watched it become the spiritual bird that even startled Qin Shuying.

And then, it had turned into an egg.

Returning to its original state.

As if—

It were waiting for something.

Manager Zheng quickly returned with the Spirit Beast Compendium. It was a thick ancient book with a worn cover whose title was barely legible, an old heirloom passed down through generations of Jiaoyue Peak.

Shen Mo took the compendium and flipped to the “Spiritual Birds” section.

Golden-feathered Chicken.

Passed it.

Red-feathered Chicken.

Passed it.

Spirit Crane.

Passed it.

He flipped through page after page. He was more than halfway through the book and still hadn’t found a record that matched this egg.

Not until he reached the final few pages.

The paper of that page was yellowed and the corners were curled, but it bore an illustration of a bird.

The bird was entirely snow-white with golden light at the tips of its wings, standing tall with an arrogant posture.

Beside the image was a line of small characters:

“Sword Feather Spirit Kite, an ancient divine bird. Its fetus begins as an egg. After hatching, it undergoes three transformations before it can become a Kite. The first transformation is the Chick, the second is the Feather, the third is—”

The characters that followed were blurred and unreadable.

Shen Mo’s gaze fixed on the words “Sword Feather Spirit Kite.”

Sword Feather.

He thought of that scorching, sharp aura.

Spirit Kite.

He had never heard of such a spiritual bird.

He continued reading.

Below that page, there was an even smaller line of text:

“This bird is extremely rare, seen once in a hundred years. The gestation of its egg requires a specific opportunity and cannot be forced by ordinary Spiritual Power. On the day the egg is formed, it is a Sword Fetus.”

Sword Fetus.

Shen Mo’s hand paused.

He thought of that power, that scorching and sharp aura, and the thing that felt like a sword hidden in a scabbard.

It wasn’t just ‘like’ one.

It was one.

A Sword Fetus.

A sword that had not yet been drawn.

If it were raised to maturity—

He didn’t dare think further.

“Lord?” Manager Zheng asked cautiously from the side. “What… what is this?”

Shen Mo closed the compendium.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Don’t speak of this to anyone.”

Manager Zheng nodded repeatedly. “Yes, yes, I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

Shen Mo looked at the egg once more.

It lay quietly on the hay, the runes on its shell still flowing slowly as if alive.

On the distant mountain peaks, the monsters were growing restless.