Chapter 2: Capture

“I wonder, Lord Jian Zhen, what is your intention with this move?”

Jiang Huai’s pupils shrank suddenly.

Though he tried to keep his voice steady, a cold sweat instantly broke out along his back.

His sharp gaze swept quickly around the hall.

The Nu Wei stood at attention with weapons in hand—this arrangement was clearly more than just a simple arrest.

He couldn’t fathom why Jian Zhen had gone to such lengths to set this trap for him.

If the aim was simply to make things difficult, why bother with all this? Sending two Ya Yi would have sufficed.

Instead, Lin Cai’s words had lured him here, and the hall was now surrounded by blades and soldiers…

Clearly, this old Qiyu Po was scheming something far from trivial, something that could not see the light of day.

Jian Zhen’s thick fingers caressed the rim of her teacup, a smile hovering on her lips, half mocking, half amused:

“To tell the truth, with how you are now, I really didn’t want to choose you.”

“The first few times, I thought of marrying you off to my niece, or perhaps taking you as a concubine—either would’ve been nice.”

“But that living corpse in your house just wouldn’t allow it, dragging you down to such a state.”

Jiang Huai remained calm, simply staring quietly at the woman before him.

Panic would serve no purpose now.

Better to observe the situation and look for a way to break free.

Jian Zhen watched the beauty before her remain so composed, and couldn’t help but admire him inwardly, continuing:

“You’re not a local, have no roots or foundation, and you look so good—truly the perfect candidate.”

“What a shame, a real shame, that I won’t be able to enjoy you myself.”

Her voice suddenly rose, sharp and commanding:

“Take him to the side room and change him into wedding robes!”

“And be gentle—don’t hurt him.”

Jiang Huai’s expression instantly became strange.

Forcing someone into marriage? Was it really necessary to go this far?

Even if they wanted him married off, did they have to kidnap him? Had some noble taken a fancy to him?

He forced down his anger and sense of absurdity, taking a deep breath and deliberately softening his tone, feigning weakness and anxiety:

“Lord Jian Zhen, marriage is something that can be discussed. We can sit down and talk it over slowly.”

“At the very least, I should inform my family, so she doesn’t worry and come looking, causing trouble for you.”

The fat on Jian Zhen’s face quivered as she recalled the gaze that “living corpse” at Jiang Huai’s house had given her that day—icy cold, making her shiver to her bones.

Clearly just a living corpse, yet the aura she emitted was so oppressive that Jian Zhen couldn’t meet her eyes, feeling guilty and avoiding her gaze.

“No need. You’ll understand everything by tomorrow.”

“Treat him well, don’t harm him.”

Jian Zhen stood and left, perhaps out of a guilty conscience, giving a final order to the guards.

Outside the gate of a shabby courtyard, a woman in a flowing cloud-patterned brocade dress, with ruby lips and jade-like features, pushed open the door with great care.

Her ethereal beauty stood in stark contrast to the weathered mud walls around her, like a famous painting misplaced in a humble setting.

She entered the yard, taking in the old yet tidy surroundings, and stepped carefully toward the small house, each movement cautious and restrained.

The door looked worn, with cracks in the planks and patches of missing paint exposing the pale wood beneath.

Yet there was no dust in the cracks; it was still sturdy and serviceable.

Clearly, while the owner wasn’t wealthy, they took great care of their home.

Qi Yuyong paused outside, dusting off her dress—though there was no dust to be found—and straightened her jade crown with meticulous care.

Only then did she hold her breath, step back half a pace, and bend deeply at the waist, her posture so respectful it bordered on humble.

Before she could speak, a voice crashed out from inside the house:

“Get out.”

Qi Yuyong’s bent waist stiffened for a moment.

When she raised her head, her face was already plastered with a syrupy sweet smile, her voice soft and coquettish:

“Oh, Shi Jie! Your ears are as sharp as ever! Your little Shi Mei missed you so much!”

“Congratulations on mastering your divine arts—immortality is just around the corner!”

With that, she nimbly pushed open the battered wooden door.

Inside, Qi Yuyong froze, staring at the woman lying on the bed—her hair dry and unkempt, her posture lazy and indifferent.

She could hardly believe this was her Shi Jie.

“Shi Jie…”

“Didn’t you already master the technique?” Qi Yuyong stepped closer, peering at her.

If she had truly succeeded, why did she still look like this?

Wu Zhaohua didn’t even lift her eyelids, only responding with a lazy “Mm.”

Suddenly, the air in the room stirred without wind.

An indescribable vitality burst forth from her withered frame, like the first spring rain after a long, bitter winter.

The light that appeared was not blinding white, but gentle as jade, diffusing softly from every pore.

Her brittle hair turned glossy black in an instant. Sunken eye sockets filled out to a perfect arc.

This was a face of regal grace.

Her phoenix eyes were elegantly shaped, the outer corners naturally upturned without a hint of harshness.

Her skin wasn’t the pale white of a maiden, but had a warm, jade-like glow, with a faint flush beneath the surface.

Her bearing was like that of a fine jade—an effortless authority, a languid calm that brooked no defiance.

Wu Zhaohua lay there casually, fingers idly holding an old scroll.

Even in a coarse old dress, she seemed imbued with a special radiance, brightening the entire shabby room.

When beauty reaches a certain level, even rags can’t hide one’s elegance.

“It seems Shi Jie has truly mastered the San E Gui Zhen Lu. Congratulations, Shi Jie.”

“So, when do you plan to return to the Sect and take up the position of Da Zongzhu?”

Qi Yuyong smiled as she sat by the bed.

Now that Shi Jie had mastered the San E Gui Zhen Lu, she was destined for immortality.

In the Da Cheng realm, aside from a few monstrous women, there would be no one to match her.

The so-called San E Gui Zhen Lu referred to the Heaven Tribulation, Earth Tribulation, and Human Tribulation.

Heaven Tribulation was the wrath of the heavens—enduring the pain of lightning tribulation with the flesh alone, suffering endlessly before passing through.

Earth Tribulation was the malice of the earth—wherever one went, Ling Mai withered, plants died, beasts fled, and the body itself became frail, surviving only through sheer willpower.

Human Tribulation was the rejection of humanity—the hardest of all, when illness ravaged the body, meridians shattered, and one became as fragile as glass.

Most importantly, luck hit rock bottom.

Drinking water would chip your teeth, walking meant tripping, shopping always meant price hikes…

If someone cared for you, the misfortune would cling to them instead, and the higher their cultivation, the greater the cost.

This was the final and most crucial tribulation. Many cultivators survived the first two, only to perish in the Human Tribulation.

Thus, in a thousand years, only Wu Zhaohua had succeeded in mastering it.

“Return to the Sect? What for? I’m not going back.”

Wu Zhaohua rolled over, her eyes still fixed on the scroll in her hand, completely absorbed.

Jiang Huai had written this novel just for her, afraid she’d be bored at home.

The story was fresh and fast-paced, impossible to put down.

Most importantly, it was written by Jiang Huai.

That alone made her interested.

Qi Yuyong gave an awkward laugh. “Shi Jie, how could you not return to the Sect after mastering such a technique?”

“You know the state of our Sect. If you don’t come back soon, your little Shi Mei won’t be able to hold out much longer.”

Throughout the Sect, only Wu Zhaohua was at the Da Cheng stage, standing at the very top of the world.

Qi Yuyong, the so-called Dai Zongzhu, was only at Hua Shen Qi, a whole realm below Wu Zhaohua.

The Sect enjoyed the status of a Da Cheng powerhouse thanks solely to Wu Zhaohua’s presence.

If Wu Zhaohua didn’t return soon, Qi Yuyong—a mere Hua Shen Qi cultivator—wouldn’t be able to withstand the covetous eyes of the surrounding Sects.

“That’s what you get for not cultivating properly. Now you come to me with these complaints.”
Wu Zhaohua turned a page, her tone calm.

Qi Yuyong dared not argue, muttering softly:

“Shi Jie! Not everyone is as gifted as you.”

“In our Sect, I’m lucky to reach Hua Shen. Even Shi Zun was only at early Hua Shen back then…”

Back then, she and Wu Zhaohua had both apprenticed under Shi Zun, but Wu Zhaohua’s talent was extraordinary, leaving everyone else far behind.

At the mention of Shi Zun, Wu Zhaohua’s fingers paused slightly on the page, a fleeting trace of reminiscence in her eyes.

She sighed softly, the hint of melancholy quickly melting back into her usual languor:

“Fine, I’ll go back in a couple of days. But…”

She tapped the page with her fingertip:

“I’ll be taking someone with me. Go spread the word—the Shao Zongzhu has been decided. When I return, we’ll hold a meeting.”

Thinking of Jiang Huai, who had cared for her so considerately all these years, sharing in her misfortune, Wu Zhaohua’s eyes softened with rare tenderness.

If not for Jiang Huai’s devoted care, she would never have survived the Human Tribulation.

Now she finally understood why so many predecessors had failed at this hurdle.

So, her feelings for Jiang Huai were unique.

“The Shao Zongzhu has already been chosen?!”

Qi Yuyong’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Even if their Sect only had one Da Cheng cultivator, it was still a renowned Sect—how could the Shao Zongzhu be decided so easily?

“Mm. He’ll be back by noon. You can meet him then.”

“Before that…”

Wu Zhaohua’s eyes finally left the scroll, drifting toward the patch of land outside the window—tidy and well-kept thanks to Jiang Huai.

A gentle smile unconsciously curved her lips, as if recalling something warm and precious.

She stretched out her slender, jade-like finger and pointed casually:

“Go, loosen up that patch of soil. I want to… plant some flowers, for when he returns.”

Qi Yuyong: “Huh? You want me to dig up the soil?”