Chapter 118

The massive hill at the center, called Danqiu, was where the Danxia Sect held all its grand ceremonies, said to have formed naturally. Liu Xiaolou looked up, yet could not bring himself to believe such a perfectly flat, colossal stone platform could be natural—it must have been the work of the Danxia Sect’s ancestral masters.

The main day of the ceremony was tomorrow; it was not yet time to ascend the hill. Looking at the sky, the sun was sinking, painting the evening clouds even more brilliant, as if inlaid with golden edges.

Many questions arose in Liu Xiaolou’s mind: What was the relationship between this cave heaven and the outside world? Were the suns seen inside and outside the same?

As he pondered these questions, he followed the Su family toward the northwest. About three li from Danqiu, a lush expanse of water and grass appeared, with over a dozen thatched cottages arranged in orderly disorder.

Su Zhi turned and ordered: “Rest here.”

Aside from Liu Xiaolou, everyone else had been here before or had once come, and each knew which cottage was theirs. Su Zhi and Su Xun entered the two central large cottages; Su Long, Su Fan, Su Xi, Su Mo, Su Wan, and the rest did the same—leaving Liu Xiaolou standing alone.

Only after they had all settled did Liu Xiaolou find an empty cottage on the side. As he reached the door, Su Long suddenly stepped out of his own cottage and said to Liu Xiaolou: “This is Erniang’s room. Though she married far away, we’ve kept it reserved for her.”

Liu Xiaolou had to step back and search again. Just as he was about to check the distant thatched cottages, Su Zhi emerged from his own and pointed to the one beside him: “You’ll stay here!”

Liu Xiaolou blinked: “Ah...”

Su Zhi urged: “Hurry!”

Liu Xiaolou hurried over and carefully pushed open the door: “Wu niang...”

The thatched cottage was small—two zhang long, one and a half zhang wide. On the left stood a carved four-poster bed; on the right, a pool about a chi square, its edges lined with crimson rocks, irregular in shape, clearly natural, not carved by hand. The pool water was clear and serene, radiating a potent spiritual energy, denser than the spiritual energy drifting in the outside world!

Was this the legendary spiritual spring? Good heavens—so the thatched cottages weren’t built randomly; they were all constructed around the pools. Cultivating inside these cottages, though still inferior to spirit stones, was finally possible without needing spirit stones at all!

At this moment, Su Wuniang sat cross-legged on a mat beside the pool, her expression calm, softly saying: “Come in.”

Liu Xiaolou bowed: “Forgive me, forgive me...”

Su Wuniang shook her head: “We’re husband and wife. At least pretend to be.”

Liu Xiaolou smiled apologetically: “Yes, yes, yes—I just feared disturbing... Madam...”

Su Wuniang said: “Take care of yourself. I’m cultivating.”

Liu Xiaolou nodded: “Madam, please proceed. Don’t mind me.”

The cottage held only the bed and the spiritual spring. Liu Xiaolou didn’t know what to do. He sat sideways on the edge of the bed for a while, then quickly rose, tiptoed around twice, and finally sat across from Su Wuniang, separated by the pool, cultivating together.

The spiritual energy from the spring was transformed into true qi, flowing into the meridians. After accumulating for a while, it surged toward the fifth point of the Hand Shaoyang Meridian—Waiguan!

The spiritual energy felt less dense than spirit stones, but its gentle, lingering quality far surpassed them, making cultivation easier. And the thought that this energy was free filled him with an indescribable sense of delight.

As he sank into it, footsteps suddenly sounded outside, followed by a knock on the door: “Is Wu niang inside?”

Su Wuniang glanced at Liu Xiaolou, startled awake, and said: “Is that Yinggu? Come in.”

With a wave of her hand, the door opened gently. A woman stepped in, draped in moonlight—the sky outside was already full of stars.

Su Wuniang and Liu Xiaolou rose to greet her. Su Wuniang said: “It’s been a long time, Yinggu. How have you been? This is my husband, Liu Xiaolou. Husband, this is Yinggu of the Mao Gong Altar, a family friend since childhood—we were inseparable as children.”

Yinggu rushed forward and seized Su Wuniang’s hand: “Why did you marry so hastily? I only found out last month! My fifth brother was heartbroken for months—he never stopped thinking of you. You’re both the fifth child in your families; you’re truly made for each other. How did it come to this?”

She turned to study Liu Xiaolou, praising: “I always wondered what kind of man could make Wu niang rush into marriage as if he’d vanish if she waited a moment. Now I see—he’s a handsome young man, truly refined. Wu niang, you’re lucky to have him at home—you can just look at him whenever you please! Oh dear, I came in such a hurry I didn’t bring a wedding gift—I really didn’t think ahead...”

Liu Xiaolou smiled and bowed: “Madam, you flatter me.”

Yinggu froze, then laughed: “Madam? No need for such formality—I’m only five years older than Wu niang.”

Su Wuniang smiled: “Only four.”

Liu Xiaolou scratched his head: “I’m ashamed—I was blind.”

Yinggu chuckled awkwardly: “We just arrived and haven’t settled yet. I came straight over to see you—nothing else. I’ll be going now, to comfort my fifth brother.”

Yinggu took her leave. Su Wuniang sat back beside the spring and suddenly laughed: “Madam...”

Liu Xiaolou sat back down too: “Back in Wulong Mountain, we have no family ties—we only recognize seniority by cultivation level. Her level must be far higher than mine. Calling her ‘Madam’ isn’t wrong, is it?”

Returning to cultivation, he didn’t know if half an hour or a full hour passed when Su Wuniang suddenly leapt backward, soaring onto the bed. At the same time, she reached out with one palm, using the technique of Capturing the Dragon and Controlling the Crane—and Liu Xiaolou flew onto the bed.

He had barely landed when the door burst open—this time, not even footsteps had been heard.

A middle-aged woman stood at the threshold, hands clasped behind her back, staring fixedly at Su Wuniang and Liu Xiaolou on the bed, her expression deeply hostile.

Su Wuniang quickly rose from the bed, straightened her disheveled clothes and hairpin, and bowed: “Dry Mother.”

The woman stared at Liu Xiaolou, still dazed on the bed, until his scalp prickled. He tried to rise, but his body felt weak and limp, unable to even twitch a finger. He was terrified: “Is this a high-level cultivator’s aura? Is she at the end of Foundation Establishment—or already Golden Core?”

“Dry Mother, this is my husband, Liu Xiaolou,” Su Wuniang said again.

At that moment, Su Zhi and Su Xun arrived, drawn by the noise. Su Zhi forced a smile: “Yaojun, you’ve come...”

The woman glared at him, then turned and walked away. Su Zhi sighed, signaled Su Wuniang to close the door, and followed after her with Su Xun.

Liu Xiaolou felt as if a mountain had been lifted from his back—he wiped cold sweat from his brow: “Madam, who is that? Golden Core?”

Su Wuniang fell silent for a moment, then said slowly: “She is my dry mother, from the Cai family. She treated me kindly, always trying to match me with that Wang family man... She’s different from others—she truly cares for me. That’s why I never told her about my marriage.”