Longyin Hall, Vast Sea Residence.
After finishing his Basic Sword Technique training, Jiang Huai walked over to Qin Qingyue, who was reclining sideways on the Dragon Throne, and—without the slightest politeness—flopped down on her now-enormous, cool Dragon Tail that spread out beneath her.
The cool, hard touch was actually quite comfortable.
“Teach me swordsmanship,” he muttered, resting his chin on the slightly chilly Dragon Scales.
“I want to learn something new.”
Qin Qingyue lazily glanced at him, her Dragon Tail intentionally shifting ever so slightly, teasing:
“Teach you? Why should I teach you?”
Her red eyes shimmered, a mischievous smile curving her lips: “If you obediently call me ‘mom’ in bed tonight, I’ll teach you something amazing, how about it?”
“No way.” Jiang Huai’s refusal was firm, his tone resolute.
Such a demand was utterly impossible.
“Why not?” Qin Qingyue asked in puzzlement, the tip of her tail lightly sweeping across his back.
“Just say it once and I’ll teach you a really powerful sword art?”
“No.” Jiang Huai shook his head, completely unmoved.
Seeing that soft tactics weren’t working, Qin Qingyue’s expression suddenly grew serious. A ghostly glow swirled around her, and her immense dragon body instantly transformed into her imposing Black Dragon form.
The enormous dragon head lowered, moving close to Jiang Huai, who was lying on the Dragon Tail.
“What are you trying to do?” Jiang Huai showed not a hint of fear. Instead, he lifted his head and stared straight into that enormous, blood-red maw looming before him.
Although Qin Qingyue could be rather rough and forceful in bed, in daily life, she was surprisingly gentle with Jiang Huai.
“Not listening, are you?” The Black Dragon bared her fangs, each one gleaming with a chilling light, her tone full of menace.
“I’ll eat you up!”
Jiang Huai stared into the abyss of her giant mouth, then, out of curiosity, reached out and poked the hanging, warm, scarlet tongue with a finger, tilting his head as he asked,
“And then?”
Qin Qingyue’s dragon head froze for a second, then a deep, intimate chuckle rumbled from her throat:
“And then I’ll give birth to you from inside my body—wouldn’t that mean you’d have to call me ‘mom’?”
Jiang Huai:
He silently withdrew his finger and gave a light punch to the icy dragon snout.
“Teach me swordsmanship.”
“Only if you agree to let me use my dragon body with you once.” The Black Dragon took the opportunity to bargain.
“No.” Jiang Huai rejected her cleanly and decisively, then sat cross-legged on the Dragon Tail, propping his face with one hand.
“Also, teach me swordsmanship.”
Qin Qingyue stared at her disobedient husband and let out a soft sigh. “So disobedient, forget it.”
“Actually, you don’t need me to teach you swordsmanship.” Jiang Huai shook his head. “I’m not that much of a genius.”
He wasn’t a genius to the extent that he could create his own sword art while still in the Foundation Establishment Period.
He hadn’t even fully figured out the mysteries of his own Chaos Dao Platform.
“What I mean is…” The Black Dragon’s breath was warm.
“My understanding of the sword path isn’t as pure as Wu Zhaohua’s.”
Hearing this, Jiang Huai pretended to rise and joked,
“Then I’ll go find Wu Zhaohua to learn.”
“You dare!”
In an instant, Qin Qingyue’s scales bristled and her massive dragon body twisted violently.
“If you dare to go to Wu Zhaohua, I’ll tan your hide tonight!”
She’d finally gotten rid of Wu Zhaohua, and she absolutely could not let Jiang Huai near her again anytime soon.
Jiang Huai steadied himself, shrugging.
“You’re really violent.”
“Hmph!” The Black Dragon snorted out a breath of white vapor, her claw pointing to Jiang Huai’s waist.
“Look at what’s hanging on your waist!”
Jiang Huai lowered his head, reaching for the smooth Little Jade Sword at his waist.
“What about it?”
This Little Jade Sword was a life-saving token given to him by Wu Zhaohua—it could send a message to her in moments of danger.
“Didn’t Wu Zhaohua tell you?”
Qin Qingyue’s voice was thick with jealousy. “Within this jade sword, she sealed her Sword Intent, and probably left behind sword techniques and sword formulas as well.”
“Just send your divine sense into it and you’ll naturally comprehend them.” She practically gritted her teeth as she finished speaking.
No wonder people called Wu Zhaohua generous.
What was sealed inside was the sword path essence of a Mahayana Sword Immortal with Celestial Immortal Form.
Even in the Immortal Realm, such a legacy would be fought over as the highest tier inheritance.
And now, it had been given to Jiang Huai so casually—and Wu Zhaohua herself had left.
“So that’s how it is.” Jiang Huai lowered his head, fingers gently caressing the cool Little Jade Sword, his heart filled with a complicated feeling.
“She really put her heart into it.”
Gazing at the Little Jade Sword at his waist, he thought again of that small courtyard.
“Stop looking! Hurry up and send your divine sense in!” Qin Qingyue couldn’t stand hearing Jiang Huai praise Wu Zhaohua and hurriedly urged him, clearly agitated.
She really didn’t want Jiang Huai using that woman’s things, but the Little Jade Sword was just too beneficial to him—she could only hold her nose and accept it.
Thinking of the Spirit Sword Pattern that often appeared and disappeared, Qin Qingyue felt even more annoyed.
Why was that woman so troublesome? If she wanted to leave, she should have left for good. Why leave something on her husband?
Following her instructions, Jiang Huai slowly sank his divine sense into the Little Jade Sword.
In an instant, an overwhelming wave of Wild Sword Qi surged toward him.
Wenxuan Sect, inside the small courtyard.
As she sat cultivating, Wu Zhaohua’s eyes flew open, sensing that Jiang Huai had entered the Little Jade Sword.
“So, you’ve reached Foundation Establishment.” A trace of indescribable loneliness flickered across her face as she whispered softly.
Then, a flash of light appeared in her eyes.
A condensed soul split from her body and instantly entered the matching Little Jade Sword at her own waist.
Inside the space of the Jade Sword.
Jiang Huai felt as if he were standing within a boundless ocean of Sword Qi, the air saturated with razor-sharp Sword Intent that chilled his very soul.
He looked down—his body was nearly transparent.
“So this is my soul? So weak.” Jiang Huai murmured to himself.
Looking around, there was nothing but the endless, surging Sword Qi.
“There’s nothing here at all, no sword techniques or sword formulas.” Did Wu Zhaohua not leave anything behind after all? Was Qin Qingyue mistaken?
Jiang Huai considered leaving, when suddenly a faint light flickered before his eyes.
A figure appeared—solid, dressed in snowy white, floating gracefully toward him.
She was shapely and alluring, her aura ethereal and transcendent, like a Sword Immortal descending from the Ninth Heaven.
Only, her features were shrouded by a hazy spiritual radiance, making it impossible to see her face clearly.
Even so, Jiang Huai could instantly recognize the familiar curves and outline.
This was Wu Zhaohua’s body.
After years of sharing a bed, how could he not know Wu Zhaohua?
“Wu Zhaohua?” Jiang Huai called out tentatively.
Wu Zhaohua stood motionless, her gaze hidden behind the spiritual glow, swirling with complicated emotions—longing tangled with resentment, love and hate inextricable.
I hate you, but I miss you, too.
After a moment, still, I hate you.
“Wu Zhaohua?” Jiang Huai called her again when she didn’t answer.
This should be Wu Zhaohua, right? Why couldn’t he see her face?
Wu Zhaohua forcefully suppressed her emotions, hardening her heart and ignoring the familiar voice.
Suddenly, she drew the sword from her waist, blade pointing straight at Jiang Huai, her voice deliberately cold as frost:
“Pay attention!”
“This is Wenxuan Swordsmanship, the Sect-Guarding Supreme Art of Wenxuan Sect, personally improved by me!”
“Devote yourself to its study—do not bring disgrace to my name, Wu Zhaohua!”
“This swordsmanship is divided into ten levels…”
She no longer looked at Jiang Huai. Dressed in white, she floated gracefully, her sword moving in harmony with her, demonstrating each move with perfect clarity, accompanied by a detailed explanation of the Sword Formula Mnemonic.
This time, Wu Zhaohua was even more earnest than when she had taught Xiao Yue.
Jiang Huai watched, dazed, as that white figure—her face indistinct—danced amid the ocean of Sword Qi, feeling a faint sense of loss.
So it was only a projection after all.
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