novelraw Chapter 59 : The Martial God’s Legacy: A Self-directed Play
Chapter 59 : The Martial God’s Legacy: A Self-directed Play
Chapter 59: The Martial God’s Legacy: A Self-directed Play
When he returned to the karst cave, she was wearing his slightly oversized outer robe, sitting on the bluestone with her legs folded to one side.
Her hair was loose, damp and glistening with droplets of water, and her flawless jade-like face was tinged with a faint blush.
Her slender, fair calves hung over the edge of the stone, still marked by traces of water.
One leg, however, was visibly bruised and red it was clear that she had taken the chance earlier to wash herself in the underground river.
When Wu Ruyue noticed Shen Yanzhou’s gaze fall perhaps unintentionally on her closed-together legs, she couldn’t help but recall the awkward incident from before.
Pretending nothing had happened, she continued to wipe her hair as if at ease.
“It seems you’re recovering well.”
Shen Yanzhou smiled, not mentioning the earlier matter again.
He went to the campfire and picked up two roasted sweet potatoes.
Wu Ruyue quietly let out a breath of relief; she naturally couldn’t tell him she had just been enduring the pain with effort.
Her gaze fell upon the two golden-brown sweet potatoes.
“These smell so good.”
“When I was picking wild fruits yesterday, I dug them out of the field as well,” Shen Yanzhou said with a smile.
“Why didn’t I see them yesterday…”
“I dug them in advance…”
“……”
Wu Ruyue was merely looking for something to say, wanting to dispel the lingering awkwardness.
“Where did you get that silk scarf? It’s quite pretty.”
Shen Yanzhou’s attention turned to the white cloth embroidered with peach blossoms in her hands, from which a faint, delicate fragrance drifted.
“……”
Wu Ruyue’s face flushed red again, and she instinctively wanted to hide the piece of cloth in her arms.
That wasn’t a silk scarf at all—it was her chest binding.
When she had washed herself in the underground river earlier, she couldn’t find anything to dry her hair with, so she had taken it off to use.
Shen Yanzhou seemed to realize this a moment later; his gaze lingered briefly on her chest, which now rose and fell with a more natural rhythm, before he chuckled softly.
He changed the subject, saying, “According to what I found in the ancient texts, the trial palace of the Martial God’s inheritance should be somewhere around here. But after countless years, it might have sunk into the riverbed. I plan to follow this underground river today and search for it.”
“You can wait for me here in the cave.”
“I’ll go with you…”
Wu Ruyue blurted out instinctively.
Then, fearing he might misunderstand, she explained, “I’m not after the Martial God’s legacy. I just think I might be able to help you.”
After all, she carried within her a wisp of the Martial God’s true source—perhaps fate itself would guide her.
Of course, she had originally planned to tell Shen Yanzhou this secret, but last night… he had stopped her mouth.
“You can barely move on your own. How could you help me?” Shen Yanzhou’s gaze dropped to her leg.
“I can walk on my own, just… slower than usual,” Wu Ruyue replied, her pride refusing to yield.
“Then stand up and take two steps,” said Shen Yanzhou.
Wu Ruyue set aside the chest binding she had been using to dry her hair, gritted her teeth through the stabbing pain in her leg, and barely managed to stand.
Her face had turned pale, yet she pressed her lips together, refusing to make a sound.
When she took two steps forward, her foot gave way, and she nearly fell to the ground if not for Shen Yanzhou’s quick reflexes catching her, she would have hit the floor.
“Showing off strength isn’t always a virtue. Sometimes, admitting weakness takes more courage,” Shen Yanzhou said softly, helping her sit back on the bluestone.
Wu Ruyue bit her lip and remained silent.
After a moment of thought, Shen Yanzhou said, “It’s not good to leave you here alone either.”
“In a while, you’ll get on my back.”
At that suggestion, Wu Ruyue hesitated only briefly before agreeing.
If it had been before, she would rather limp on her own than accept.
To be carried by a man physically so close how could she ever agree to that?
But… why didn’t she feel so resistant now? Was it because it was Shen Yanzhou?
…
The underground river wound down from the higher reaches of the mountain.
After they had eaten the roasted sweet potatoes and tidied up, the two of them set off deeper into the passage, heading toward its source.
Wu Ruyue, wrapped in Shen Yanzhou’s outer robe, leaned lightly against his back, her slender legs supported by his hands.
At first, she felt shy in this position, her whole body tense and uneasy, even keeping her palms braced against his back.
But after they had walked about half a li, faint roars—beastlike, yet strange—echoed from somewhere deep within the connected caverns.
Most of her attention turned toward alertness and vigilance, and the tension in her body gradually eased.
Before she knew it, she had subconsciously wrapped her arms around Shen Yanzhou’s neck, their chests and backs almost pressed together only a layer of clothing between them.
Though Shen Yanzhou’s feet carried him forward, his mind was far from calm.
He could distinctly feel the soft warmth pressing against his back.
Without the constraint of her chest binding, each uneven step along the rugged path made that sensation even more noticeable.
The farther they went into the depths, the fainter the roars of beasts became, until at last they faded entirely into silence.
Around them, the light dimmed until nearly complete darkness enveloped them.
Wu Ruyue had been trying to sense something through the wisp of the Martial God’s true source within her.
She hadn’t truly expected success but suddenly, a strange and familiar pulse stirred in her mind.
“There—there’s something…”
Joy broke across her delicate face.
“There’s something?”
“What is it?” Shen Yanzhou asked, feigning ignorance.
Just as Wu Ruyue was about to explain, the underground river ahead suddenly erupted—waves surged skyward, crashing down in a thunderous rush toward them.
…
From the moment Wu Ruyue sensed the existence of the trial palace to when the Soul-devouring Flood Serpent emerged from the underground river—its colossal, mountain-sized body rising from the depths—only a heartbeat had passed.
By the time she realized what was happening, the Soul-devouring Flood Serpent had already opened its massive jaws.
A torrent of black wind roared forth, engulfing both of them and dragging them into the bottomless darkness.
She saw nothing clearly—only a vast shadow that blotted out everything.
Instinctively, she shut her eyes and clung tightly to Shen Yanzhou’s neck, pressing herself against his back.
Wu Ruyue didn’t know how long had passed—it might have been the time for one stick of incense to burn, or perhaps only a few breaths.
When she opened her eyes again, she found herself standing upon a vast and open underground palace floor.
Before her rose a magnificent and ancient-looking palace.
Fist-sized luminous pearls hung high around the perimeter, lighting the entire space as bright as day.
“This is… the Trial Palace?”
Shen Yanzhou also appeared startled at that moment, frozen in place.
On his back, Wu Ruyue was equally shocked—she hadn’t expected such a place to truly exist.
“How did you… suddenly bring us here?” Shen Yanzhou couldn’t help but ask in surprise.
Wu Ruyue herself didn’t quite understand either, but she could only attribute it to the wisp of the Martial God’s true source she possessed.
Just as she was about to explain, Shen Yanzhou seemed to realize something and smiled calmly.
“I suppose this has to do with that secret you wanted to tell me.”
He didn’t press further.
Instead, his gaze swept over the vast underground palace.
Hmm, second time coming here—but I still have to pretend it’s my first.
“Let’s go in and take a look.”
“According to what I’ve read in the ancient records, this place holds a Trial Cave Mansion. Only by passing the Martial God’s test can one obtain his inheritance. Now that we’re here, whether we gain it or not will depend entirely on our own ability.”
As he spoke, Shen Yanzhou stepped forward into the palace, his expression showing sincere joy.
Still on his back, Wu Ruyue felt the wisp of the Martial God’s true source within her sea of consciousness pulsing ever more strongly.
She was certain this place was deeply connected to her.
“Put me down,” she whispered softly.
Shen Yanzhou nodded.
Then, the two of them began exploring the underground palace separately.
After a short while, Wu Ruyue noticed a strange fluctuation.
Limping slightly, she followed a long corridor and finally arrived before a sealed cave mansion.
“Master Shen, this place…”
She instinctively reached out to touch the tightly closed gate.
Suddenly with a loud rumble the door burst open, and a tremendous suction force erupted from within, pulling her inside before she could react.
Wu Ruyue’s eyes widened in shock; she turned her head toward Shen Yanzhou, wanting to say something, but her voice was cut off as the gate closed behind her.
“……”
“Well, that was a bit of effort—but it worked.”
Watching the scene unfold, Shen Yanzhou slowly approached the entrance after she had disappeared completely, rubbing his temples lightly.
“My Lord.”
A shadowy figure in black silently appeared behind him—it was the same Soul-devouring Flood Serpent from before.
“When the time comes, send her to the Floating Island,” Shen Yanzhou ordered.
The Martial God’s Secret Scripture created by Lin Qingcang didn’t interest him, but it could be left to Wu Ruyue.
After all, in the original course of events, that was precisely the cultivation art she was meant to inherit.
Lin Qingcang himself had been willing to pass his legacy on to her.
Once they returned to the imperial capital, Wu Ruyue would also be able to shield him from much suspicion and unnecessary trouble.
“Senior, are you satisfied with this successor?”
Shen Yanzhou smiled faintly, gently rubbing the white jade ring on his hand to summon the remnant spirit of Lin Qingcang resting within.
“You scheming brat.”
Lin Qingcang awoke, snorted coldly, then transformed into a blurred remnant shadow and stepped into the cave mansion ahead.
He had long known of Shen Yanzhou’s plan otherwise, he would never have helped him stage this elaborate act.
…
At that moment, on the outskirts of Hidden Moon Mountain, a massive cloud vessel hovered above an open plain.
Officials of the Great Qian Dynasty’s Bureau of Immortal Inspection were counting their casualties, while several hundred-man captains of the Chilin Guards stood wounded and silent.
Compared to the Bureau’s immortals who could fly with talismans, the Chilin Guards had suffered much heavier losses.
“Miss Wu has gone missing. I fear the chances of survival are slim…” Zhou Yang, his arm wrapped in white cloth and blood staining his forehead, sighed softly.
“Should we return to the capital to report, or remain here to continue searching?” someone asked.
“The offerings from the Demon Suppression Prince’s Mansion are also missing. Could they have been devoured by the beasts as well?”
As they spoke, an elderly figure appeared in the distance disheveled, robes torn, clearly wounded from battle.
“It’s Elder Mo from the Demon Suppression Prince’s Mansion!”
“What about the others?”
Someone recognized the old man and hurried forward to meet him.
Elder Mo hesitated for a moment, then sighed and shook his head.
“I don’t know. We got separated.”
“The situation at Hidden Moon Mountain has already been reported to the main office,” said the senior official of the Bureau of Immortal Inspection.
“At present, there are no Fourth-Rank True Persons stationed in the capital, but upon hearing of this, the Sect Master of my Jade Pure Upper Sect agreed to call in a favor—to have True Person Yin Han of the Purple Cloud Monastery intervene and suppress the Demon King.”
The Purple Cloud Monastery was located in Lei Prefecture, bordering Yun Prefecture.
It was a thriving temple of great reputation.
Though its abbot was not officially registered with the Bureau of Immortal Inspection, he was indeed a genuine Fourth-Rank True Person—profound in cultivation and formidable in power.
Hearing this, the gathered crowd visibly relaxed.
“True Person Yin Han of the Purple Cloud Monastery…”
Only Elder Mo’s expression subtly changed, as if recalling something unpleasant.
…
In the imperial capital of the Great Qian Dynasty, within the Demon Suppression Prince’s Mansion.
Inside the Emerald Bamboo Courtyard, Yu Chenyu was draped in a sheer gauze outer robe as light as mist.
Beneath it, her moon-white inner garment was embroidered with clouds and peach blossoms, accentuating her graceful, alluring figure.
Reclining languidly on a soft couch, her long jade-like legs angled slightly as she twirled a lock of hair by her ear.
Her serene, dignified face carried a faint hint of seductive charm.
“They’re dead?”
“All of them?”
Her lips parted lightly—her tone casual, yet full of intrigue.
Chunchao stood beside her, sword in hand, and nodded obediently.
“I heard some people in the mansion talking this morning. Several of the elders were furious about it…”
“How amusing. All the retainers and offerings we sent out are dead?”
“Is Hidden Moon Mountain really that dangerous?”
Yu Chenyu’s eyes shimmered softly as she coiled a strand of hair around her slender, fair fingertips, a strange gleam flickering there.
Chunchao shook her head.
“They say they encountered a Demon King level existence, which drove the surrounding beasts into a frenzy.”
“However, Elder Mo’s life token hasn’t shattered.”
Yu Chenyu arched a delicate brow.
“Heh… so it’s Elder Mo who survived. Shen Zhigao and the others’ fine little plans seem to have been crushed entirely.”
“Shen Jingxiao’s calculations miss nothing but did he foresee this outcome?”
Chunchao didn’t quite understand, only feeling that the mission had been truly perilous the Demon Suppression Prince’s Mansion had nearly been wiped out.
Could the Heir have survived?
“Still no news of him?”
Yu Chenyu asked again, sounding almost indifferent.
Hadn’t she said before that she would no longer concern herself with the Heir’s fate?
Chunchao thought so but said nothing aloud.
She only shook her head.
“No. Neither the Bureau of Immortal Inspection nor the Chilin Guards have found any trace of the Heir. It’s said that only that Miss Wu, who volunteered to follow, had seen him—but she too is now missing.”
Yu Chenyu’s gaze drifted toward the colorful golden-feathered canary in the nearby cage.
Her tone carried subtle meaning as she said softly, “The sky beyond the cage may be vast, but it isn’t necessarily safe. Where hawks and tigers roam together, even spreading one’s wings might not lead to freedom.”