Chapter 2#

The Husband Makes His Entrance!#

When approaching the kitten, Yan Jianxiao deliberately lightened his footsteps and slowly crawled inside.

The kitten let out a meow, a flicker of wariness flashing through its eyes. It quickly scrambled to its feet, trembling as it stared at him, baring its teeth.

Yan Jianxiao made a couple of gestures and blinked, signaling, I’m here to save you!

The kitten clearly didn’t understand what he meant. A green light emanated from its body as its claws came out.

Yan Jianxiao: “…”

Yan Jianxiao gritted his teeth. In for a penny, in for a pound—he lunged forward, grabbing the scruff of its neck in a flash. The cat immediately let out a ferocious snarl and thrashed about.

Such a tiny body, yet such tremendous strength. Yan Jianxiao nearly lost his grip for a moment. He struggled to reach out a finger and traced a few strokes on its body—

[Heal]

Deep green characters slowly spread outward. A surge of warmth welled up in the kitten’s body, and then the wounds on it gradually closed. Disbelief filled its eyes as it stared at the “girl” before him.

These were wounds left by a high-grade immortal weapon!

“How can you—” The kitten actually spoke, its eyes scrutinizing Yan Jianxiao. Yan Jianxiao felt a chill run through his body, as if something had swept across him.

“No… wait, why do you have five spiritual roots?” the kitten asked in confusion.

Yan Jianxiao froze. His mouth fell open in surprise, and he blinked rapidly.

This little cat could actually tell what spiritual roots he had?

The kitten: “What’s your name?”

Yan Jianxiao narrowed his eyes, grabbed a twig, and drew his name in the dirt.

The kitten was sharp. It raised an eyebrow. “You’re mute?”

Yan Jianxiao’s eyes lit up. He nodded vigorously, then hugged the kitten and stroked it again.

Such a clever little cat!

Not like Ying Qingye, who had asked the mute “sister” why she wasn’t talking.

The kitten nodded. “My name is… What do you like to eat?”

“?” What a strange name.

Yan Jianxiao wrote in the dirt: Your name is so long.

The kitten: “…I asked what you like to eat. I don’t have a name.”

Yan Jianxiao thought for a moment, then wrote: Red bean buns.

Finely crushed red beans mashed into a paste, steamed until fragrant—they were delicious.

The kitten: “Then I’ll be called Dou Bao.* From now on, you can say, ‘Dou Bao, Dou Bao, help me kill the people across from me.’”

*Red Bean Treasure.

In that instant, a faint green light surfaced on Dou Bao’s pitch-black face and settled onto Yan Jianxiao’s palm.

At this moment, Yan Jianxiao still didn’t know—they had formed a bond. This was the meaning of acknowledging a master.

Now, staring at the mark that had appeared on his fingernail, a neat row of “???” popped up above his head.

Yan Jianxiao wrote: But I can’t talk.

Dou Bao scratched its head. “Oh, right… you’re mute. Sorry, I forgot about that.”

It raised its paw and swiped it through the air. “Try now?”

Yan Jianxiao was startled. He instinctively opened his mouth—but still, no sound came out.

The cat and the human stared at each other for a moment. Dou Bao fell silent, and Yan Jianxiao could see that it had been trying to heal him. He stroked the cat and wrote comfortingly: Don’t worry. I was born this way.

Dou Bao never doubted its own abilities, but this time it genuinely began to doubt itself. Refusing to accept it, it raised its paw again and swept it over his body once more.

The spiritual light still didn’t grant Yan Jianxiao the ability to speak.

It tried three times in a row. All three times, it failed. Dou Bao finally gave up, recognizing that whatever was behind this was at a level far beyond its comprehension. It sighed. “Good thing you can write… If you were blind too, I wouldn’t know what to do.”

A smile bloomed on Yan Jianxiao’s face. He wrote: You’re worried about me.

In all his time at the Cangling Sect, this was the first time anyone had cared about him.

Dou Bao was momentarily stunned by that smile. Only after a beat did it snap back and say, “I’m hungry.”

Yan Jianxiao blinked. He hurriedly pulled an oil-paper packet from his robes. Inside the paper was a single pastry, its four corners crumbled, surrounded by crumbs.

Still warm.

Dou Bao: “How pitiful. How can you eat this? I want to eat spirit fruits.”

Yan Jianxiao: “…”

At that, Yan Jianxiao’s brows knitted together and his pale lips pursed slightly. He quickly stuffed the pastry away and wrote: Eat it or not, your choice.

After the ancient war between gods and demons, the world had been split in two. Those with spiritual roots who cultivated to high realms formed the twelve great families, which established the Upper Cultivation Realm. Meanwhile, mortals without any magical power and those with mixed spiritual roots lived in the Lower Cultivation Realm.

All of Yan Jianxiao’s possessions combined were worth less than a hundred spirit stones, and he only had some silver usable in the Lower Cultivation Realm.

How could he possibly obtain something as expensive as spirit fruits?

Dou Bao hadn’t expected him to have such a temper. It blinked, softening its voice. “Then, then I’ll take you somewhere good to eat… Come on, I’ll show you the way.”

Yan Jianxiao felt a bit troubled, unsure how to explain that he couldn’t appear before people often.

In the original book’s plot, Ying Qingye had several brothers who were fiercely protective of him, each distributed across different story arcs.

If nothing went wrong, there should be one in the Cangling Sect too. If that person saw him, Yan Jianxiao would be beaten as Qiao Weiyang’s servant.

After all, Qiao Weiyang had sent him to marry Ying Qingye precisely to humiliate him. The Long Aotian’s* friends certainly wouldn’t stand for it.

*The protagonist archetype of a domineering, invincible hero in cultivation novels.

Dou Bao noticed his hesitation and, recalling his five spiritual roots, asked, “Afraid someone will hit you?”

Yan Jianxiao nodded.

Dou Bao frowned. It wanted to say, Not possible with me around, but then remembered its own predicament. Looking down at its no-longer-imposing claws, it changed its answer: “Then we’ll go secretly.”

Yan Jianxiao caught the flash of arrogance that had just passed through its eyes. He thought for a moment, then wrote: Are you very strong?

Dou Bao nodded.

Can you help me find someone? Yan Jianxiao wrote again.

Dou Bao grew wary. “Who?”

Yan Jianxiao wrote: Ying Qingye. I heard he coughed up three sheng of blood. I’m very worried.

…

Within the inner sect of the Cangling Sect, clouds and mist wreathed the peaks. Rain fell over the outer sect halfway up the mountain, while the summit was bathed in pink-golden twilight.

The Cangling Sect had three Immortal Venerables, residing respectively in the Glazed Hall, the Great Brahma Terrace, and the Vault of Heaven Peak.

The Vault of Heaven Peak was located in the deepest part of the sect. There, an open-air lake lay surrounded by green spirit trees pulsing with spiritual energy. Spiritual qi bubbled up from beneath the lake’s surface—clearly, a spiritual vein ran beneath this place.

For cultivators, cultivation depended not only on one’s spiritual roots and talent but also on spiritual qi. Sitting directly beside a spiritual vein to cultivate was as different from cultivating in the qi-impoverished Lower Cultivation Realm as heaven was from earth.

The Vault of Heaven Peak was clearly an ideal place for cultivation.

At this moment, a young man sat cross-legged on a jade platform in the middle of the lake. Behind him, an old man with white hair sat with his hand on the youth’s shoulder, using spiritual energy to smooth over the wounds in his meridians.

The old man—Tan Cang—sighed. “Ying Qingye, that child from the Qiao family is too vicious. How could he treat you so cruelly? At the very least, you shared some childhood friendship with him.”

Qiao Weiyang’s methods were ruthless. After sending Yan Jianxiao as his substitute, the news had spread like wildfire throughout the Upper Cultivation Realm.

Ying Qingye’s long hair was bound high, cold sweat beading on his handsome face, a hint of murderous intent concealed between his brows. “Those who fawn on the high and trample the low—it’s human nature. One day, I will surely—” cough—

As if his wounds had been agitated, Ying Qingye suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood, and something on his wrist grew scorching hot. But he didn’t dare let Tan Cang know. He only said, “Master, your disciple wishes to be alone for a while.”

Tan Cang didn’t move at all. He said, “What about that substitute Qiao Weiyang sent? Did you kill him?”

Ying Qingye paused. Unbidden, those beautiful eyes slipped through his mind. His expression warmed slightly. “Master, please don’t concern yourself with this.”

Tan Cang was already over a thousand years old, the vice-master of the sect, and carried many old-fashioned prejudices. His brows furrowed at the words. “Qiao Weiyang humiliated you so thoroughly, and the entire Upper Cultivation Realm is now watching you. Are you telling me you intend to keep that girl?”

Ying Qingye said, “I have my own judgment. Please take your leave, Master. I wish to rest.”

At this, Tan Cang choked on his words, then rose and swept away in a huff.

After confirming he was gone, Ying Qingye leaped from the jade platform in the lake and landed on open ground among the forest.

A fluctuation of spiritual power appeared before him. A youth in purple robes materialized from thin air. His sharp eyes caught the blood beneath Ying Qingye’s lips, and he widened them in shock. “Qingye? What’s going on? Even the Immortal Venerable couldn’t heal you?”

Ying Qingye tore open his sleeve, revealing his arm. Beneath the young man’s pale skin, blue veins bulged, hinting at coiled, knotted muscle.

But near the pulse point at his wrist was a black mark shaped like half a heart.

The Heart Seal of the Marriage Stone. If two people were betrothed, each would bear half the mark on their hand. Whoever defied the oath would be punished by the Marriage Stone—their cultivation would gradually fade, and they would slowly die.

Qiao Weiyang had exploited a loophole. The bridal sedan had departed from the Qiao family estate, and in the eyes of Heaven’s Dao, the marriage had already been carried out. So he hadn’t suffered any punishment at the time.

However, the Heart Seal was ultimately a lingering threat. And as long as it existed, it meant the two of them were still bound together. Qiao Weiyang, believing he had already surpassed Ying Qingye long ago, wanted nothing to do with him.

So he had cunningly transferred the Heart Seal to someone else.

That had left Ying Qingye and Yan Jianxiao to suffer the consequences. The sedan was the Qiao family’s, and the wedding location had been set by the Marriage Stone—but the person who came wasn’t Qiao Weiyang. It was Yan Jianxiao.

In the eyes of Heaven’s Dao, this constituted “going back on one’s word.” Divine punishment descended once more upon the two who bore the Heart Seal—except by now, the Heart Seal had already been born onto Yan Jianxiao’s body. Qiao Weiyang no longer bore the seal, so he escaped the punishment a second time.

Now, to dissolve it, one would either have to find the Seven Sacred Treasures, or naturally and truly fall in love with the one who held the other half of the Heart Seal.

Ying Qingye believed his cultivation was decent, yet he had nearly been struck to death by heavenly lightning.

So then… how was that girl doing?

Although he had already done his utmost to draw the lightning onto himself when he sensed she had five spiritual roots…

“This is the Heart Seal brought about by defying the Marriage Stone. Qiao Weiyang used some technique to dodge it and put the seal on that girl instead…” Ying Qingye trailed off, suddenly remembering something. He raised his dark eyes. “Feng Shili, where’s that girl who came as the substitute bride?”

Feng Shili froze.

The forest fell silent for a moment. Ying Qingye sensed something amiss and frowned. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

Back on that day, Ying Qingye had fallen unconscious from weathering the heavenly tribulation. Fortunately, the one who had gone to receive the bride wasn’t just Ying Qingye alone—his courtyard-mates Feng Shili and others had been there too.

After the group brought Ying Qingye back, no one had paid attention to anything else.

Feng Shili scratched his head, showing a simple, honest smile. “I… dunno.”

Ying Qingye sharply turned to him, his brows knitting tighter and tighter as his face sank. “She has five spiritual roots and no way to protect herself. Where did you leave her?”

Nineteen years ago, after staying up late and dying from overwork, he had opened his eyes once more and transmigrated into a book called The Myriad Ages Venerable, becoming the Long Aotian protagonist. And for the next nineteen years, he’d been cursed with bad luck.

Why? Because what he’d transmigrated into was the prologue—the book primarily told the story of a young Long Aotian who, after being jilted, rose instead, acquiring all kinds of heavenly treasures as easily as reaching into his pocket. In the end, he ascended to the throne of the Myriad Ages Venerable, leaving his former fiancée to wallow in regret.

And he had landed right at the very beginning of the story.

The Ying family had originally been the foremost of the twelve great families, and after his birth, their power had only grown further. But after Ying Qingye turned sixteen, his cultivation made no more progress—in fact, it showed signs of regressing.

The nightmare had started from that point on.

Ying Qingye was so unlucky that even drinking cold water got stuck in his teeth. On top of that, a year ago, his father had been gravely wounded by demons during a hunting expedition, and the Ying family’s standing plummeted overnight.

Immersed in grief, Ying Qingye suddenly remembered the plot of the original book. So he waited and waited, until the day came to fetch Qiao Weiyang.

Who could have guessed it? Qiao Weiyang never showed up—instead, he sent a little girl over… So how was his jilted-Long-Aotian identity supposed to activate?

“I dumped the sedan at the outer sect,” Feng Shili said dismissively. “You’re not bewitched by that face, are you? Brother, let me tell you, her identity is a blazing fire pit. What if Qiao Weiyang is using her to harm—”

“Impossible,” Ying Qingye cut him off, recalling the way that idiot had bumped into the sedan’s doorframe. “Go find her. She has five spiritual roots—she can’t have gotten far.”

Feng Shili let out a sneer. “With five spiritual roots, there’s even less reason to bother. She’s just trash. You—”

Before he could finish, Ying Qingye’s icy gaze fell upon him. Feng Shili had no choice but to raise a hand, pull a talisman from his robes, and stick it over his own mouth, shutting up.

Ying Qingye: “Go find her.”

Feng Shili heaved a sigh and vanished on the spot.

…

Meanwhile, at the Glazed Hall.

Yan Jianxiao felt that the moment he agreed to Dou Bao, the small cat in his arms suddenly seemed to possess tremendous strength, carrying him forward at a breakneck pace.

It was like tugging a runaway horse he couldn’t control—his body flashed like lightning, the world before him a dizzying blur. By the time he snapped back to his senses, he had arrived at a place wreathed in mist and clouds.

Misty distant mountains merged with an ocean of pink-golden clouds. Even beneath his feet were clouds. Yan Jianxiao had never been to a place like this before. Rows upon rows of palaces stretched out around him, their glazed tiles gleaming beneath the cloud sea, dazzling enough to sting the eyes.

And before the largest, tallest palace stood three great characters—Glazed Hall.

Suddenly, a sect disciple in white robes with a dark green sash at his waist passed straight through his body…

Yan Jianxiao: “?!”

“They can’t see you. Don’t be afraid,” Dou Bao comforted him. “Quick, come inside with me. I’m really about to starve to death. Only spirit fruits can restore my strength.”

Yan Jianxiao clenched his palms, summoned his courage, and nodded.

What people fear is always the unknown. Seeing person after person pass through his body without noticing him, Yan Jianxiao let out a relieved breath—and couldn’t suppress his curiosity either. He unconsciously widened those beautiful eyes, taking in everything around him.

The Cangling Sect was so much more beautiful than the Qiao residence!

Glazed tiles, pink-golden clouds, even the floor itself rippling with spiritual power…

The two quickly entered a remote side hall. It seemed some kind of banquet was being prepared here—disciples came and went, each one radiating the light of the Foundation Establishment stage.

Piles of spirit fruits and spirit herbs sat on the tables. The moment Dou Bao saw them, it couldn’t walk anymore. It stuck its rear in the air and lunged forward to ravage them—but Yan Jianxiao covered its mouth and yanked it back.

“Is Ying Qingye here?” Yan Jianxiao looked at it suspiciously, writing on Dou Bao’s body with his finger. Don’t eat yet. Eating directly is too obvious. Answer me.