My Wife Is A Sword Immortal

Xuanhuang Realm?

This world is called Xuanhuang, Zhao Rong pondered. And what about Qianjing—why is the character "Qian" surprising to him?

"Boy, do you know what year it is tonight? Are the Du You and Qingyang Han families still in this Tranquility State?"

After thinking for a moment, Gui added, "What about that mighty sect? Is it still the number one sect in Wangque?"

Zhao Rong nonchalantly picked up the teacup, took a slight sip, and said leisurely, "I don't know."

Gui: "..."

It really wanted to give him a sword strike. But it no longer had a sword.

"Right now, I'm nothing but a good-for-nothing who lives off others, completely devoid of cultivation. How would I know about the affairs of the people up in the mountains of Wangque Continent?"

Zhao Rong declared righteously.

"However..." He paused, calmly picked up his teacup again, and slowly continued.

"Don't rush, eat your rice one bite at a time. Although I'm quite useless now, that's only temporary. Later, you can examine my body and see if there's some hidden rare physique, like the Ancient Sacred Body or the Nine Yang Extreme Vein. Then, find me a top-tier cultivation technique that suits my training, preferably the kind of peerless Foundation Establishment Skill that you obtained through great hardships at your peak but, unfortunately, were unable to cultivate!"

"With your knowledge and experience complementing my intelligence, I'm sure we can crush our enemies and quickly rise to power. Then, whether it's helping you rebuild your body or rectifying your regrets, it'll be a piece of cake!"

Having said that, he lowered his head to take another sip of tea.

"???"

Gui was greatly astonished.

"Why should I help you? With your talentless physique, inherent deficiency, and clogged meridians, any cultivation technique would be in vain for you—you're not even worth my attention!"

"Pfft—" Zhao Rong spit out all the tea in his mouth...

Gui sighed once more and said, "I still can't figure out why it chose you. Your wife's talent for cultivation is a million times better than yours, and she could even rival the... cough, or even that girl just now. If it were them, I would have given my all to assist."

"It's maddening! If there are no accidents, in this lifetime you'll probably only reach as high as the Fu Yao Realm. To be weak is the original sin! Help me rebuild my body, rectify regrets? An ant dreaming of reaching the skies, a fool's delusions!"

"..."

All of a sudden, Zhao Rong really wanted to "go home."

...

In the night, a tall building within the Duke Mansion.

It was also the tallest building in the West City of Qianjing.

The building was named Cheng'en Tower, constructed when a certain Duke's legitimate daughter was promoted to Empress and returned home for a visit. The plaques were inscribed with "Cheng'en Siyi" (Receiving Grace with Righteous Thoughts), personally named by the Emperor of Chu at that time.

The tall tower overlooking the lake stood among exquisite gardens lush with greenery and dazzling flowers.

Upon its completion, Cheng'en Tower and its garden were the talk of Qianjing's nobility, but it was merely a part of the maximal imperial grace that the Zhao Family of the Duke Mansion had enjoyed since the founding of the nation.

A hundred years ago, the Zhao ancestors helped the Grand Ancestor of the Xiang family establish the country. The Grand Ancestor, patting his hand, smiled and asked, "May my descendants marry your daughters?" For the next hundred years, the two families intermarried through generations.

Yet, in this generation, with the new Emperor recently enthroned, the eldest daughter of the Zhao Mansion had already married, and the famously beautiful second daughter of the Zhao family had now chosen to marry into another household...

Atop Cheng'en Tower.

A lone man was drinking his sorrows away, looking up at the sky.

He sat by himself at the edge of the roof, holding a sword in one hand and lightly lifting a jar of wine with the other. Amidst the fierce wind and grand sky, the moon accompanied his drink, but instead of moon-gazing, he looked unfocusedly down at a brightly lit building within the mansion.

Whenever he drained the wine in his hand, he'd gently toss the jar over the side of the tower, reaching for another jug without hesitation.

He remembered how that half-grown boy always liked to frolic with his two "sidekicks" below the tower.

Because Cheng'en Tower was only opened to distinguished guests on visits or during the Double Ninth Festival, and since the elders of the mansion traditionally forbade children from climbing high.

So, what lay hidden within the highest building in the world became one of the greatest mysteries in the minds of those three children back then.

That boastful brat always solemnly declared that the tower contained a man-eating monster, suppressed under books as heavy as mountains by a Confucian Saint, the horror of which was second only to that of the defeated great water monster lurking in the neighboring lake.

Whenever that moment came, the young lady would listen to his nonsense with complete earnestness, nodding and shaking her head intermittently, clutching tightly to his sleeve and turning pale whenever she heard something scary.

And Qian'er, who was scared at the slightest thing, would always be the first to burst into tears, squatting on the ground with her ears covered, her back to her young lady and Brother Rong.

As the seasons changed, that boy seemed to always come up with all sorts of new and diverse ways to play, leading the young lady and Qian'er on wild romps through the garden all year round.

In the spring, they rode makeshift bamboo pole horses to the hills behind to pick green plums, dig for bamboo shoots, make fishing rods, and fish for shrimp and crayfish; in the summer, armed with a wooden slingshot of unknown origin, they went into the woods to hunt birds, climb trees, take eggs, and catch cicadas; in the fall, they carried cloth bags to the farms outside the city to pick fruit, play house, play hide-and-seek, and fly kites. In wintertime, little hands turned bright red making snowmen, cutting paper, setting off firecrackers, and lighting fireworks.

The young lady would leave in the morning wearing a white skirt with him and come back in the evening clad in a "black skirt," never escaping a lecture from her Aunt Liu.

But the next day, she would be bouncing around again, finding new ways to sneak out with him.

The young lady was naturally quiet, but when she was with that stinky boy, she became extremely lively.

The sword-bearing man threw back his head and took a deep swig, then shook the wine jar to find it empty, and casually threw it away.

The three children liked to collect shards from the broken wine jars below and skip stones by the lakeshore.

It was the stinky boy who first learned the trick from the older children from the other estates, later teaching the young lady and Qian'er, and the three of them would often come to play.

Initially, the boy could skip the stones the most times, but as the young lady and Qian'er gradually cultivated, the number of times their stones skipped naturally increased.

Yet, interestingly, it was always the boy who won, so he would boast triumphantly, while the young lady would sit quietly beside, resting her cheek in her hand and listening intently, smiling amicably; Qian'er would uncooperatively reveal his secrets, leading to a session of playful bickering...

Those scenes would never appear again.

Since when had things changed?

It was probably when that Zhao brat began schooling, and the young lady and little Qian'er started their cultivation under their protectors' watch, I guess.

The three children started to understand the differences between men and women and the proprieties thereof, and their innocence disappeared.

Latter, that stinky boy picked up some of that pedantic Confucian knowledge, and became even more unbearable, always spouting 'this' and 'that' and 'the sage says.'

Then came that engagement when the young lady and he were twelve...

Heh, stinky boy, were you too good to marry into my young lady's household?

If it hadn't been for the Zhao Family of the Southern Tranquility State being utterly devoted to the young lady, would the old man and Teacher Bai have agreed to let you marry into our family?

The sword-bearing man suddenly abandoned the wine jar and stood up with his sword in hand.

Because he had seen a figure in red walk out from the vaguely lit house he had been staring at all this while.

The silhouette hastened away, faster and faster, as if fleeing something terrifying in the pitch-black night.

Had the boy decided to leave?

He sighed.

In the end, he didn't really feel it was much of a loss, just a little heartache for the half-jar of wine he'd parted with. Had he known, he would have kept it for himself.

"You have broken the rules."

Someone said from behind him.

The sword-bearing man acted as if he heard nothing, just tightening his grip on the sword in his arms, and sat back down, tilting his head back, and continued drinking merrily.

As if the tall elder behind him didn't exist at all.

"Teacher Bai once said, until they turn eighteen, we should not interfere in their private matters," the tall elder said as he walked up to the sword-bearing man, meeting his gaze and continued, "What wine is that?"

"This?"

The sword-bearing man lifted the wine jar in his hand, then suddenly burst into a radiant smile, "The very Daughter's Red wine I buried for the young lady with my own hands when I first came to the Zhao Mansion, now perfectly aged for seventeen years. Old man, care for a swig?"

The tall elder kept staring at him, expressionless, and repeated, "What wine is that?"

The corner of the sword-bearing man's mouth twitched, as he slowly put down the raised wine jar.

"Huangliang Forget Sorrow Wine."

His gaze turned reflective, "A gift from an old friend, who said this wine can induce a profound dream, as if one has lived another life, and upon waking, one can appreciate the value of this life."

"It worked pretty well when I drank half a jar of it," the man said, mocking himself before continuing, "Since that boy has a thick head, I thought he really needed it, so I gave him the other half."

The tall elder stayed silent for a moment, then dropped the words "Don't let it happen again" and slowly walked away.

The sword-bearing man quietly let out a breath of relief. But then a sentence from afar made his eyelids twitch.

"I shall report this to Teacher Bai, but as for the young lady... you'll have to tell her the truth."