Chapter 6: Never

“Wu Zhaohua, how do you know that name?” Jiang Huai was momentarily stunned, staring blankly at Qin Qingyue in front of him, so surprised that he forgot he was currently without a single stitch of clothing.

His feet were off the ground, his body exposed completely before Qin Qingyue, his spear standing tall, his waist tightly bound by her arms.

That name was not the one Wu Zhaohua used in public. It was a true name she had revealed to Jiang Huai herself one deep night.

That day, Jiang Huai was down on his luck. The rain poured, black clouds pressing down, thunder rolling across the sky.

Returning home from the tavern, he had forgotten his umbrella and could only brave the rain to cross the bridge.

When he reached the center, the wind and rain grew fierce. The wooden bridge suddenly collapsed with a crash! Caught off guard, he fell straight down.

Fortunately, the water was neither deep nor fast. He managed to hold his breath and crawled out, blood streaming down from his forehead.

With one leg unable to walk properly, Jiang Huai felt the journey home was endless. He pressed on through the downpour, soaked to the bone, unable to tell if the wetness on his face was rain or blood.

He didn’t know how long it was before he finally saw the familiar, dilapidated courtyard.

“What happened to you? What’s wrong with your head?!”

“Who bullied you? Who did this to you!”

As soon as he entered, Jiang Huai’s sorry state startled Wu Zhaohua, who was bedridden. She sat up abruptly, her illness triggering a bout of coughing, eyes burning with fury, willow brows sharply raised.

She had dominated the cultivation world for years, always using her strength to bully others and competing with all sorts of geniuses. How could anyone dare bully someone under her protection?

The thought alone made Wu Zhaohua’s frail body tremble with anger, her thin fingers clutching the bedding tightly.

Jiang Huai limped inside, leaning against the table to stop the bleeding. Still, he managed a comforting smile.

“You know me—bad luck follows me everywhere. No matter what I do, misfortune finds me.”

“Today I forgot my umbrella, and if that wasn’t enough, the bridge collapsed halfway across. That’s how I ended up like this.”

“At least the water wasn’t deep or swift. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have made it back. I suppose that means I’m tough to kill.” His tone was light, as if joking with Wu Zhaohua.

To others, it sounded like a jest, but to Wu Zhaohua, it was a blade piercing straight into her heart, breaking through her defenses before she could react.

She knew better than anyone where Jiang Huai’s misfortune came from, and why he suffered so much.

Wu Zhaohua knew Jiang Huai was a clever and diligent man. With his decent looks, he should have been able to make a living in the mundane world no matter what.

Yet, here he was, still living in this shabby courtyard, taking care of her—a burden pinned to the bed by Human Tribulation, unable even to get up without help.

Heaven Tribulation’s thunder and Earth Tribulation’s withering had never made Wu Zhaohua frown or shed a single tear.

But it was this ordinary Human Tribulation that pried open a crack in her heart, allowing Jiang Huai to step inside.

When Wu Zhaohua didn’t respond, lost in her own thoughts, Jiang Huai limped to the next room, took off his muddy, tattered clothes, and changed into clean ones.

No matter what hardship he faced, he insisted on wearing clean, neat clothes.

This was his way of maintaining his spirit.

Soon, two bowls of plain porridge were ready. Jiang Huai placed his own on the table, carrying the other to Wu Zhaohua’s side.

He gently blew away the steam and said, “It’s simple today. We’ll have something better tomorrow. I learned a new dish from the tavern’s Master.”

“After you finish this porridge, take your medicine. I think this medicine works better than the last…”

“Jiang Huai.”

Wu Zhaohua, eyes red as she stared at his injured leg, interrupted him.

“Go. Don’t take care of me anymore.”

“Leave me. You’ll be better off—thousands of times better than you are now.”

Jiang Huai set the bowl by his knee, shoulders drooping helplessly. “If I go, what will you do?”

“You can’t even get out of bed. Wouldn’t you just starve in here?”

“I admit, I have bad luck and no great skills, stuck in this little courtyard.”

“But to abandon you, to leave you here alone—I can’t do it.”

He wasn’t someone who forgot kindness. Even though the woman before him was neither beautiful nor gentle, her age indiscernible, bedridden all day long.

Still, Jiang Huai would never leave Wu Zhaohua behind. Even if he left, he would take her with him.

“You’ll only get more misfortune if you stay with me.”

Wu Zhaohua lay on the bed, avoiding Jiang Huai’s gaze, not wanting him to see her reddened eyes.

This time, with Human Tribulation, she was luckier than most. She had saved someone by chance, and in return, she experienced a rare, sincere emotion—something she hadn’t felt in ages.

“I only know that because of you, I survived.” Jiang Huai picked up the bowl again, bringing the porridge to Wu Zhaohua’s lips.

“Eat. We’ll talk about leaving another time.”

“When I’ve saved up some money, we’ll leave this small town. There’s no future here. I’ll take you out into the world.”

Wu Zhaohua obediently opened her mouth, sipping the porridge he fed her, feeling the warmth slide down her throat. She mumbled,

“Don’t bother with the medicine. It doesn’t help and it’s a waste of money.”

“If we’re saving up, don’t waste so much on me…”

As the Da Zongzhu of her sect, she now found herself thinking like an ordinary housewife, worrying about household chores, about making ends meet.

“I think it helps. Last time, you took the medicine and managed to get up, didn’t you?”

“Don’t worry about the medicine. You’ll get better.” Jiang Huai fed her spoonful by spoonful, refusing to listen to her protests.

Wu Zhaohua ate quietly, sighing inwardly. She knew she could never win against Jiang Huai on this matter.

This was just treating the symptoms, not the root. Even if she could get out of bed, it wouldn’t cure her illness.

Only by surviving Human Tribulation and regaining her cultivation could she truly recover.

For now, all she could do was go along with Jiang Huai and quietly wait for that day.

Late at night, the two shared a bed, lying side by side, not crossing any boundaries, warmth filling the small room.

Jiang Huai, exhausted and injured, quickly drifted off to sleep.

Wu Zhaohua turned to face him, gazing at his sleeping profile in the faint moonlight that filtered through the old window.

The scar on his temple, the tired crease of his brow—each detail made her heart ache as if scraped again and again by a blunt knife.

She had roamed the cultivation world for years, standing out since girlhood, venturing into Secret Realms, seizing opportunities, and crossing swords with the geniuses of the world.

She had fought across the Eastern Wasteland, Western Desert, Northern Plains, Southern Ridge, and Central State, reaching the pinnacle of Great Ascension, raising her sect to new heights.

Yet she’d never had someone by her side, never had the chance for such companionship.

Now that she finally had someone so caring beside her, all she could do was watch him suffer, struggling through Human Tribulation.

A sudden fear gripped Wu Zhaohua’s heart. She had never seen anyone survive Human Tribulation—she didn’t know how others made it through.

Would the final trial of Human Tribulation be losing Jiang Huai?

Was Jiang Huai the last link in her Human Tribulation? When she survived, would he survive too? Or would misfortune befall him?

The thought brought a wave of suffocating anxiety. She wanted to scream.

No. Anything but that…

She just had to endure. Once she made it through, they could have a better future together.

Wu Zhaohua couldn’t help but reach out, her slender hand trembling as she gently traced the outline of Jiang Huai’s face.

Jiang Huai, already injured, was easily woken. He turned sleepily toward Wu Zhaohua.

“What’s wrong? Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I’ve got a few novels over there—if you’re bored, you can read…” His voice trailed off, barely conscious, as if he might slip back into sleep at any moment.

Wu Zhaohua whispered, “Jiang Huai, listen to me.”

“My real name is Wu Zhaohua. I am Wu Zhaohua—known throughout the Five Continents.”

“One day, I’ll take you away from here. We’ll live a good life.”

Half asleep, Jiang Huai murmured the name a few times, then drifted back into slumber.

Wu Zhaohua carefully shifted closer, her soft body pressing against Jiang Huai’s arm.

Instinctively seeking warmth, she nestled closer.

Beneath thin clothes, soft curves brushed unconsciously against his solid arm.

With each rough breath, she longed to pin Jiang Huai beneath her, to claim him as her own.

He’s mine. This place is mine too.

Wu Zhaohua suddenly froze, as if scalded by that thought, hurriedly withdrawing the hand that had nearly wrapped around him.

In the end, she restrained herself, holding her breath, pressing her burning lips lightly and swiftly to his cool cheek, whispering,

“Wu Zhaohua will take you away. She’s a powerful Da Cheng cultivator.”