Chapter 56: Chapter 55
The master courtyard of the Azure Sword Sect was entirely sealed off from the rest of the world.
Seven layers of sound-dampening arrays, three layers of supreme defensive barriers, and a massive thermal-regulation formation had been activated. The ambient spiritual energy in the courtyard was so thick it practically condensed into glowing mist.
In the center of the inner chambers, Yan Shuo was currently a prisoner of war.
His prison was a massive, thousand-year warm jade bed. His restraints were three layers of impossibly soft, cloud-silk blankets tightly tucked around his shoulders, effectively turning him into a helpless white cocoon.
"Zhi’er," Yan Shuo sighed, his voice slightly muffled by the sheer volume of pillows propping up his head. "I am awake. The sun is shining. I believe I can get out of bed now."
Sitting on the edge of the mattress, Tantai Zhi didn’t even blink.
"Absolutely not, Husband," she stated with terrifying sweetness.
She held a small jade bowl filled with a glowing, amber-colored broth. It was a legendary Earth-Core Spirit Turtle soup, brewed with thousand-year ginseng and infused with a dozen supreme-grade healing pills. It smelled like pure, concentrated vitality.
She scooped up a small spoonful, brought it to her lips, gently blew on it to cool it down, and held it near his mouth.
"Open," she commanded gently.
Yan Shuo, possessing the terrifying intellect of a man who had conquered the dark path, knew exactly when a battle was unwinnable. He obediently opened his mouth and swallowed the soup.
A warm, soothing current rushed down his throat, pooling in his stomach before slowly circulating through his battered meridians.
It had been three days since their frantic escape from the Heavenly Furnace Mountains. The pure Yin Qi Tantai Zhi had pumped into him during the flight had successfully stopped his physical body from shattering, but he was far from healed.
The backlash of crushing the Heavenly Dao Relic with his bare hands had left deep, jagged micro-fractures all across his spiritual sea. His Nascent Soul was stable, but every time he tried to circulate his own pitch-black gravity, a sharp, stabbing pain shot up his spine.
He didn’t scream. He didn’t complain. He was used to pain.
But as he swallowed the soup, a microscopic flinch tugged at the corner of his eye. His breathing hitched for exactly half a second.
To anyone else in the mortal realm, the flinch was completely invisible.
But Tantai Zhi was not anyone else. Her golden eyes were fixed on his face with the obsessive, hyper-focused intensity of an apex predator guarding its wounded mate.
Her hand paused holding the spoon.
"It still hurts," she whispered, her voice immediately dropping its cheerful tone. Her beautiful face tightened with a mixture of profound heartbreak and intense self-reproach. "The soup isn’t working. The pills aren’t working. Your meridians are still aching, aren’t they?"
"It is just a dull throb, Wife," Yan Shuo offered his usual, lazy smile, trying to comfort her. "The Heavenly Dao is a stubborn old fool. It left a bit of a sting, but I will digest it naturally in a few months. You have already done more than enough."
A few months? Tantai Zhi’s chest violently squeezed. The thought of him silently enduring that jagged, glass-like pain every single day for months was completely unacceptable. It was an insult to her pride as his wife and her duty as his protector.
She set the jade bowl down on the bedside table.
She leaned forward, gently pressing her lips against his pale forehead. She lingered there for a moment, her pure Yin Qi softly washing over his skin to temporarily numb his discomfort.
"Rest, Husband," she murmured against his skin. "I am going to check on the courtyard’s defensive arrays. I will be right back."
Yan Shuo hummed in agreement, his eyes slipping shut as the soothing Yin Qi finally allowed him to relax completely into the mountain of pillows.
Tantai Zhi waited until his breathing slowed into a deep, peaceful sleep. Then, she quietly stood up, smoothed her crimson robes, and walked out of the bedchamber.
The moment she crossed the threshold into the outer courtyard, the sweet, doting wife vanished.
The temperature in the garden instantly plummeted. The blooming peach blossoms shivered under the sudden weight of her chilling, absolute authority. Her golden eyes were entirely devoid of warmth, calculating and cold.
She walked purposefully toward the side pavilion, where a certain fox maid was currently frantically sorting through the massive pile of loot they had stolen from the Righteous Alliance.
Su Mei was holding a glowing scroll, muttering to herself about inventory numbers, when a terrifying shadow fell over her desk.
The fox maid slowly looked up.
Tantai Zhi was standing directly in front of her. The Saintess wasn’t holding her sword, but the sheer intensity radiating from her gaze made Su Mei’s fox ears plaster completely flat against her skull.
"S-Saintess!" Su Mei squeaked, instantly dropping the scroll and falling to her knees in a panicked bow. "Is Lord Yan awake? Does he need something? I can fetch the fresh spring water!"
"Get up," Tantai Zhi ordered flatly. "I need your brain, fox."
Su Mei blinked, slowly standing up, her knees knocking together. "My... my brain? For what purpose?"
"My husband is still in pain," Tantai Zhi stated, her voice tight with suppressed frustration. "My pure Yin Qi sealed the cracks in his foundation, and the supreme healing pills are nourishing his blood. But the core injury isn’t closing. The energy from the Heavenly Dao Relic left a curse of isolation on his meridians. It is resisting natural healing."
Tantai Zhi stepped closer, towering over the terrified maid.
"You were trained by the Faceless Scholar’s intelligence network," Tantai Zhi demanded. "You know the forbidden texts. You know the dark arts. Tell me how to cure a Heavenly Dao curse, or I will feed you to the spirit-beasts."
Su Mei swallowed hard, her mind spinning frantically. She knew the Saintess wasn’t joking. If Yan Shuo suffered, the entire continent suffered.
"P-Please give me a moment, Saintess!" Su Mei stammered, scrambling to the massive pile of looted Righteous Alliance manuals they had dumped in the corner.
She dug through the ancient texts, her hands trembling as she flipped through glowing jade slips and crumbling parchment scrolls. She cross-referenced medical texts with ancient arrays, her intelligence-trained mind working at maximum capacity to save her own life.
After several tense minutes, Su Mei paused. She pulled out a heavily warded, golden scroll titled The Origin of Dual Foundations.
Su Mei read the text rapidly, her eyes widening. A deep, embarrassed flush slowly crept up her neck, reaching the very tips of her furry ears.
She slowly turned around, holding the scroll close to her chest. She looked at the terrifying Goddess of Slaughter, absolutely terrified of how the woman was going to react to this information.
"I... I think I found the answer, Saintess," Su Mei said, her voice dropping to a nervous whisper.
"Speak," Tantai Zhi commanded instantly, stepping forward. "What herbs do we need? What spirit beast must I hunt? Tell me its name, and I will bring you its heart."
"It... it isn’t an herb," Su Mei stammered, looking down at the floor. "The text says that a Heavenly Dao isolation curse completely rejects foreign Qi. Even your pure Yin Qi is being treated as an invader. That is why the cracks won’t close. His body is fighting the medicine."
Tantai Zhi frowned, her golden eyes narrowing. "Then how do we force it to accept the healing?"
Su Mei took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for the possibility of being frozen solid.
"You cannot force it from the outside," Su Mei explained nervously. "To bypass the isolation curse, the healing Qi must completely originate from within his own foundation. Your spiritual seas must be completely, flawlessly united. Not just meditating forehead-to-forehead. Not just sharing auras."
Tantai Zhi froze. The terrifying, sovereign aura surrounding her suddenly wavered.
"What are you saying?" Tantai Zhi asked, her voice losing a fraction of its chilling edge.
"I am saying that standard dual cultivation won’t work," Su Mei whispered, her face burning red. "To merge a pure Yin foundation with a dark Nascent Soul... to trick the Heavenly Dao into believing your healing energy belongs to him naturally... you must undergo the Yin-Yang Supreme Unification."
The courtyard went completely, utterly silent.
Tantai Zhi stared at the fox maid.
She wasn’t stupid. She had read enough romance novels to know exactly what the words ’Supreme Unification’ meant in the context of dual cultivation. It wasn’t about sitting cross-legged on a bed and holding hands. It was the absolute, primal union of body, soul, and vital essence. It meant giving herself to him completely, in the most intimate, barest way a man and a woman could ever interact.
A catastrophic, blindingly red blush exploded across Tantai Zhi’s flawless porcelain face. The heat rushing to her cheeks was so intense that the frost she had accidentally generated on the nearby flowers instantly melted into steam.
"T-The ultimate..." Tantai Zhi stammered, her voice cracking into a high-pitched squeak. Her terrifying demeanor entirely shattered, replaced by the frantic, overwhelmed panic of an innocent maiden. "You mean... Husband and I must..."
"Physical and spiritual unification," Su Mei nodded quickly, staring firmly at her own shoes so she wouldn’t see the Saintess blushing. "It is the only way to perfectly blend your pure Yin essence into his Yang meridians and wash away the curse. It will bridge the gap and instantly heal his foundation."
Tantai Zhi’s mind was spinning so fast she felt slightly dizzy.
Husband’s body... touching mine completely... giving him my vital essence... Just the thought of his dark eyes looking at her in that setting, his strong hands holding her without any layers of silk between them, made her heart hammer wildly against her ribs. It was terrifying. It was embarrassing. It was entirely shameless.
But then she remembered the bloody cough. She remembered the pale, exhausted look on his face, and the subtle, hidden wince as he swallowed the soup.
Her husband was hurting. And she held the only cure.
The maidenly embarrassment was suddenly violently swallowed by her absolute, unhinged devotion. If he needed her body to heal his foundation, she would give it to him a thousand times over. She would tear down the Heavens themselves to stop his pain; shedding her clothes was a trivial price to pay.
Tantai Zhi took a slow, deep breath. The blush remained scorching hot on her cheeks, but her golden eyes hardened with absolute, unbreakable determination.
"Fox," Tantai Zhi said. Her voice still trembled slightly with shyness, but the command was absolute.
"Yes, Saintess?!"
"Go to the sect treasury," Tantai Zhi ordered, turning her gaze back toward the master bedchamber. "Bring me the deepest, most potent spiritual incense we have. And tell Sect Master Zhao to double the sound-dampening arrays around this courtyard."
Su Mei’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. "R-Right now?"
"Right now," Tantai Zhi confirmed, her hands clenching into determined little fists at her sides. She took a step toward the bedroom doors. "My husband needs his medicine. And I am going to make sure he is completely cured tonight."
