Manager Zheng was sent away by Shen Mo, leaving him alone in the Spirit Beast Garden.
The sun had completely sunk, leaving only a streak of dark red on the horizon, resembling dried blood.
Shen Mo crouched in front of the cage, staring at the egg.
The golden light on the eggshell grew more intense, even piercing through the gaps in the cage to cast sharp shadows on the ground.
That scorching aura also grew heavier; it was no longer a simple heat, but a kind of… craving.
It was as if something was restlessly moving inside the shell, wanting to break free.
It felt like something even more obscure and viscous was spreading along the patterns of the shell, entangling itself around Shen Mo’s fingertips.
Shen Mo tried to pull his hand back, only to find his fingertips seemingly glued to it.
The aura climbed up his meridians, bringing a numbing, empty heat that burned all the way up from his tailbone.
Shen Mo stood up abruptly, hurrying to put some distance between himself and the cage.
……
Time passed quickly.
In the blink of an eye, the end of the lunar year passed, then the first month, and finally, the spring breeze of February cut through the thin ice on the peaks of Jiaoyue Peak.
The egg in the Spirit Beast Garden still lay quietly in the cage. The golden patterns on the shell were deeper than they had been a month ago, looking like a series of etched sword scars.
Shen Mo visited it once a day, using his Spiritual Power to probe the vitality within. That life force grew increasingly exuberant, burning like a fire, yet it refused to emerge.
It seemed to be waiting for something.
Shen Mo did not know what it was waiting for.
He only knew that during this past month, Qin Shuying had summoned him seven times.
Sometimes it was at night, sometimes at dusk, and sometimes at high noon.
She became increasingly casual in her commands to him.
Fortunately, with the life of the Spirit Crane as leverage, she never crossed the final line.
However, when her gaze fell upon him, it felt like two invisible fires, making his entire body flush with heat.
Whenever she left, she would gently brush his face or touch his fingers.
The touch was very light, seemingly accidental, but he knew it was intentional.
A reminder.
She was waiting for him.
Waiting for him to speak first.
Shen Mo did not speak.
He did not know when this would end.
Would it be the day Su Wan’er finished her seclusion?
Or the day he finally could not take it anymore?
…
The eighth day of February was the day the Foundation Establishment Secret Realm would open.
The night before, Chao’er came to say goodbye.
She stood at the door wearing a brand-new disciple’s uniform, her hair tied high, revealing a youthful face. She had thinned out a bit over the past month, her chin growing sharper, but her eyes were brighter, as if two lamps were hidden within them.
“Master’s Husband,” she bowed.
Shen Mo looked at her, his eyes unable to hide his reluctance to let her go.
She stood still before him.
The candlelight flickered, casting shifting shadows across her face.
Those eyes fell on him, as bright as always.
“Leaving tomorrow?” Shen Mo asked.
“Yes. We depart at the hour of the Rabbit. The sect will send people to escort us to the entrance of the Secret Realm.”
Shen Mo nodded and picked up a Storage Bag from the table, handing it to her.
“Take this.”
Chao’er took it, scanned it with her Spiritual Power, and froze.
Inside the bag, thirty-six Talismans were neatly stacked—twelve for protection, twelve for offense, and twelve for escape. Every single one was of high quality, with Spiritual Power flowing through clear patterns.
There were also three spirit beast bags, a high-grade Magical Tool longsword, and a bottle of healing Elixirs.
“Master’s Husband…” her voice trembled slightly, “this is too much.”
“It is not too much,” Shen Mo said. “The Secret Realm is dangerous. It is better to be prepared.”
Chao’er held the Storage Bag, staring at it for a long time.
Then, she looked up.
Her eyes were strikingly bright, with a shimmering wetness swirling inside.
“Master’s Husband,” she spoke softly, “I will definitely come back alive.”
Shen Mo’s throat tightened momentarily.
He remembered Chao’er’s promise; he did not dare to think too deeply about what her request might be.
Chao’er stood her ground, not leaving.
She looked at Shen Mo, at that face as warm as jade under the candlelight, and at those eyes that were usually as calm as stagnant water. Those eyes were looking at her now, without a ripple, but she knew there was something underneath.
There had to be.
“Master’s Husband,” she suddenly spoke, “there is something I have wanted to say for a long time.”
Shen Mo remained silent.
Chao’er waited for a breath, but when no response came, she bit her lip and said it anyway.
“I have had no parents since I was young. You were the one who raised me. You taught me how to write, taught me the rules, and taught me how to conduct myself. In my heart, you are more than just my Master’s Husband —”
She paused.
“You are the most important person to me.”
Shen Mo’s heart gave a soft tug.
He looked at the girl before him, at her sparkling eyes and her slightly trembling lips.
He remembered the first time he saw her — a 12-year-old, thin as a bamboo pole, shrinking into a corner with the eyes of a frightened little animal.
Now, she was grown.
She was going to brave a Secret Realm.
Perhaps she would never return.
“Chao’er,” he spoke, his voice slightly raspy.
Chao’er looked at him.
Shen Mo opened his mouth, but he did not know what to say.
He wanted to say that she was also one of the most important people to him. He wanted to say that in the seven years he had spent on this peak, his only motivation was watching them grow up. He wanted to say that she must come back alive, that he would wait for her.
But he could not say it.
Those words were too soft.
They were not things he should say.
He was merely a Husband, a Virtuous Lord who managed affairs for his wife.
His duty was to be thorough and proper, not to cause trouble, and not to bring shame to Jiaoyue Peak.
He should not be saying such things to a young girl.
He took a deep breath, pushing those words down.
Shen Mo stepped forward to help her adjust her undergarments.
Finally, he picked up the Close-fitting Soft Armor.
To ensure flexibility as a piece of defensive gear, it was made to be extremely form-fitting.
As his fingers hooked around the edge of the armor plates to help her put it on, his fingertips inevitably brushed against…
In that instant, Shen Mo’s movements paused for a second.
He had always known Chao’er had grown up, but he hadn’t realized she had matured into such a shape.
The fabric of her inner robe clung tightly to her skin, outlining a waist one could almost wrap their hands around.
Further up was a chest that had already developed quite impressively; with her shallow breaths, the full curves were faintly visible beneath the thin cloth.
Her skin was not a sickly pale, but had the warm texture of mutton-fat jade. her neck was long and elegant, and her deep collarbones held a trace of fragrant sweat.
The unique fragrance of a young girl, mixed with a faint virginal scent, drifted freely, wafting directly into Shen Mo’s nose.
Shen Mo quickly composed himself, not entertaining even a hint of improper thoughts.
“Is it tight?” He lowered his head to adjust the buckles of the armor, his fingers skillfully weaving through the ties.
“It is not tight.”
Chao’er’s voice sounded strained. Her gaze was locked firmly on the crown of his head.
If anyone else were helping her dress, she would have kicked them away long ago.
She hated it when people treated her like a nursing babe.
But at this moment, Shen Mo’s fingers were at her waist.
He was pressing down on the seams of the armor with just the right amount of pressure.
Chao’er felt a bit itchy, and a bit numb.
That sensation shot up from her tailbone, making her want to arch her back, and also wanting to… pull closer.
She looked at Shen Mo’s lowered eyes and his focused expression. The slight irritation she felt from being treated like a child vanished instantly, replaced by a secret, swelling sweetness.
Her Master’s Husband still cared about her.
However, a scene from that night suddenly flashed through her mind.
Through a crack in the window, she had seen that man who was usually so upright and elegant, whose clothes never had a single stray wrinkle.
That appearance…
In that state, where was there even a shred of the dignity expected of a Virtuous Lord?
The Shen Mo before her overlapped with that panting figure.
His voice was still so gentle, so clear.
Chao’er felt as if she had been burned and abruptly took a step back.
Shen Mo’s hand froze in mid-air. He looked at her with a bit of confusion. “What is wrong? Is it too tight?”
“No.”
Chao’er’s voice was raspy.
She looked up at the man who was full of concern.
He stood there perfectly composed, his clothes neat and his hair without a single strand out of place, as if the scene from that night was nothing more than a dream she had.
But it was not a dream.
Chao’er’s nails dug deep into her palms.
She had seen it.
She had seen how he used that cold, elegant shell to please the Female Sovereign.
Yun He could do it.
Why?
On what grounds?
Chao’er’s gaze was like a burning blade, scraping over every inch of Shen Mo’s face.
Was it because she was strong?
Was it because her status was high?
So her Master’s Husband could wag his tail and beg for her mercy, allowing her to humiliate him just to trade for a tiny bit of pity?
An indescribable sense of bitter resentment and possessiveness exploded in Chao’er’s chest.
It was not jealousy toward the Female Sovereign.
It was anger.
Anger at why Shen Mo would degrade himself.
And even more anger… at why the person who could make him show that expression could not be her?
If it were her…
If she were stronger than the Female Sovereign, strong enough to control this world, strong enough that her Master’s Husband could only survive by depending on her…
Then would he look at her with those eyes as well?
Would he also kneel at her feet, begging her…
“Chao’er?”
Shen Mo waved his hand in front of her eyes, his brow slightly furrowed. “Why do you look so pale? Are you feeling unwell?”
That hand was long, fair, and warm.
Chao’er stared at that hand, her throat bobbing violently.
She wanted to grab that hand, she wanted to break it, she wanted to press it against herself, and she wanted to let it be stained with other colors.
But in the end, she only gripped the hilt of the sword at her waist tightly.
Her knuckles turned white from the force.
Chao’er took a deep breath, forcing down the surging dark tides in her eyes. She suddenly looked away, not daring to look at Shen Mo’s innocent face any longer, fearing she would lose control and do something that betrayed her master.
“Master’s Husband, take care.”
“Mhm. Come back alive.”
Chao’er looked at him and suddenly smiled.
That smile was brilliant, like the spring sunshine of March.
“Yes,” she said. “I will definitely come back alive.”
She put the Storage Bag away and bowed once more.
She turned and headed toward the door.
At the threshold, she suddenly stopped.
“Master’s Husband.” She did not look back.
“Yes?”
“Eldest Senior Sister said… you have the scent of a stranger on you.”
Chao’er recalled Lin Jingzhe’s teasing words about that person.
The method was crude, and extremely childish.
Like a naughty child marking a toy.
Shen Mo’s heart skipped a beat.
Chao’er stood at the threshold, the moonlight from outside shining in and falling upon her.
Her silhouette was motionless, like a statue.
“I do not know what that scent is,” she said, “and I do not want to know.”
There was a trace of hidden jealousy in her tone.
She paused.
“But I do know that you are not happy.”
Shen Mo was stunned.
“You have been unhappy all these years.” Her voice was soft, as if she were afraid of startling something. “I did not understand when I was little; I thought adults were just like that. But as I grew up, I slowly realized — your smiles never reach your eyes.”
Shen Mo opened his mouth, but no words came out.
“I do not know how to make you happy,” Chao’er continued. “I only think about growing up faster, becoming stronger faster, so that I can shoulder some of your burdens.”
She looked back.
The moonlight fell on her face, illuminating those sparkling eyes.
In those eyes, tears were swirling.
“Master’s Husband,” she called out softly, “once I return from the Secret Realm, I will be an adult.”
Shen Mo stood in place, watching her silhouette disappear at the end of the corridor.
There was an indescribable ruthlessness and resolve in that back.
In this cutthroat world of cultivation, becoming stronger was everyone’s instinct. It was not a bad thing for Chao’er to have ambition.
Only…
In that moment just now, what had surged in the depths of Chao’er’s eyes was not a simple desire for the Great Dao.
It was a gaze mixed with greed, anger, and a disturbing desire for conquest.
It was like an adolescent wolf staring at a piece of meat that clearly belonged to the alpha, yet had been touched by other beasts.
Shen Mo rubbed his temples, pushing down the slight, strange sense of unease in his heart.
As long as Chao’er could safely become stronger, Jiaoyue Peak would have one more layer of protection.
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