Chapter 381: A Pregnant Breakthrough |
Summer had finally arrived, and I was back in the Blazing Sun Sect.
I stood outside the house of my two disciples, the warmth of the season pressing gently against my skin. The air was thick with the scent of sun-baked earth and growing life. It made the once-scorched mountain feel like a distant memory.
Before me stood a small two-storey house with an oriental roof and an otherwise simple design.
This was the house Tingfeng shared with Jiang Yeming.
I had built it for them.
Well… more accurately, I had other people build it using sect funds that I had access to as an elder. Which was clearly an abuse of power.
But it was the thought that counted. I had at least tried to be a good teacher.
Though they used to share the house.
Jiang Yeming had more or less moved out after the incident at the Misty Mountains. Tingfeng no longer trusted her and remained constantly on guard around her. In his eyes, she had intentionally dragged us into a deadly situation for reasons he could not understand.
If I hadn’t been there and she had simply taken him to the Misty Mountains alone, he likely would have tried to kill her the first chance he got.
Oh well.
I had already put that matter behind me and warned Jiang Yeming never to do something like that again.
Now I focused on the present, trying not to think too much about the ramifications of this.
Tingfeng sat in a meditative posture in the courtyard, the warm summer wind brushing across his bald head.
That dome was blinding with the way it reflected sunlight. And apparently, he had decided it was a good idea to attempt a breakthrough in his own backyard.
Well… at least he was brave.
But I still wanted to be nearby to make sure no one disturbed him.
No matter how confident someone appeared, things could always go wrong during a breakthrough.
He sat with his spine straight and his breathing steady, as if the world around him had ceased to exist. His concentration was superb l.
ike always.
Jiang Yeming and I watched in silence.
His Qi gathered slowly, spiraling inward before rising again, layer upon layer. It condensed into a refined and dense pillar of Qi within his body, carrying an intangible presence that pressed faintly against the surrounding air.
This was the foundation being laid. The bridge toward the next realm.
Then it happened.
Tingfeng’s Qi surged.
My heart stopped.
For a moment, I was reminded of Wu Yan and her failed breakthrough.
I panicked.
For the first time in a long while, I froze in place as a thousand thoughts rushed through my mind.
The surge wasn’t gradual.
But it was controlled in a way most breakthroughs weren’t.
It erupted like a volcano.
A sharp, ringing pressure burst outward, slicing through the air with a sound like steel drawn too quickly from its sheath. I felt it scrape across my skin.
It felt as if the world itself had gained an edge.
This was sharpened sword Qi.
The grass around him was the first to suffer. Blades of green were severed cleanly, falling without resistance.
The ground split next with long, razor-straight cuts tearing through soil and stone as though they were paper.
The nearby house groaned. Wooden beams shrieked as shallow but controlled gashes carved across their walls. Roof tiles cracked and slid loose.
Nothing was smashed. Nothing shattered. Everything was simply… cut.
My breath caught in my throat. Then the worry slowly faded. This was not a failed breakthrough.
I had never seen a Foundation Establishment breakthrough like this before. There was no explosive, uncontrollable chaos. This was something else entirely.
It was a merciless sharpness. Something very difficult to describe in words, but I would have to articulate it somehow, as I planned to write it down for future generations.
It extended outward in silent lines, reaching far beyond what should have been possible. In a way, it was like a controlled explosion.
Jiang Yeming narrowed her eyes, studying the aftermath.
“Sharp,” she said at last, “creating a pinging sensation on my skin, like being carved by a razor that appeared the moment the breakthrough began.”
She spoke like a patient describing the side effects of an experimental pill.
As she continued explaining what she felt, I found myself oddly impressed by how easily she seemed to find the right words.
Eventually, she concluded, “This is what happens when someone has overwhelming compatibility with their element. It’s considered something like a Trace… but for a breakthrough.”
No book I had read had ever mentioned something like that. But then again, how often did someone possess such compatibility with their element?
It sounded suspiciously like knowledge from the future.
Tingfeng remained seated at the center of it all, completely unmoving, as if unaware of the destruction he had caused.
The sword element clung to him naturally. Obediently.
Like an extension of his will rather than a force he had to command. That might be why Jiang Yeming felt like she was being cut during the breakthrough, while I felt nothing.
Perhaps, instinctively, Tingfeng simply disliked her. Though it was also possible that her future sensory techniques allowed her to perceive things I could not.
I looked toward the distance, following the path of the cuts. They stretched far across the land like bleeding wounds.
Through the torn grass and soil, patches of the mountain’s old scars became visible, like the charred surface beneath the greenery that Blazing Sun Mountain wore like a mask after the Heavenly Calamity inflicted by the previous sect leader.
And for the first time, I truly understood something.
Some people didn’t cultivate just for power.
They were born as its edge.
Tingfeng had about the same interest in power as I did. To both of us, strength was merely a means to an end. Yet as we pursued our interests, power inevitably followed.
It was strange. Seeing something of myself reflected in someone I had taught.
Was this what a fulfilled teacher felt like when they saw their students succeed in life?
…
Later, as Tingfeng’s Qi settled and the morning slowly turned into midday, Jiang Yeming and I stood off to the side with our arms folded. She watched Tingfeng with a thoughtful frown.
There were few things better than seeing one of my own disciples succeed.
“I’m planning to organize a small celebration tomorrow for his breakthrough,” I said. “Nothing excessive. Just food and a bit of wine. He should be done stabilizing by then. It’ll be a simple gathering to mark the moment.”
Breakthroughs like this deserved acknowledgement. Especially one so… violently perfect.
Jiang Yeming glanced at me from the corner of her eye.
“Oh?” she said flatly. “How considerate of you.”
Hm?
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
I hesitated, sensing the edge in her tone.
“You’re invited too, obviously,” I added, just in case it wasn't clear enough.
She snorted softly and looked away. “Clearly, you have a favorite now.”
I blinked. “What?”
She muttered under her breath, just loud enough for me to hear. “You never threw a party for me. And I was your disciple too.”
For a moment, I didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh. Her expression remained carefully neutral, but the faint tightening at the corner of her eyes gave her away.
Was she actually jealous I hadn’t thrown her a party? What the hell, how old was she?
“Well, your breakthrough was normal,” I said. “Also, you never really needed my help with anything, and you never asked.”
She clicked her tongue. “Excuses.”
But by the end of it, her lips twitched slightly, revealing she wasn’t nearly as serious as she pretended to be.
Since when did this girl develop a sense of humor? Was she possessed, or had someone replaced her with a cheap imitation wearing her face?
I shook my head, a smile creeping onto my lips. “Fine. Then consider this a combined celebration. One for Tingfeng’s breakthrough, and one long overdue for yours.”
She paused, then glanced back at me with open skepticism. “You better mean that.”
“I do, my third favorite student,” I replied.
She turned away again, though this time her grumbling sounded quieter. Almost amused.
“Hmph. You only have three students. Also, if you start favoring sword brats over me, I’ll make sure you regret it. I’ll become an amazing cultivator and then write a book about how my teacher never helped me cultivate at all,” she said. Despite the threat, her shoulders relaxed.
Just like that, the atmosphere lightened, if only for today. She seemed oddly charmed with the idea of publicly defaming me, as if I cared what people said or wrote about me.
Did I become some kind of egomaniac in the future? How would something like that even happen? Though… I suppose I might do it just for fun, if only to mess with people.
My gaze drifted toward the courtyard. The yard was shredded, and parts of the house had begun to crumble from Tingfeng’s breakthrough.
Yes.
Someone was definitely going to have to fix that.
“Can you go talk to the Construction Elder and report the damage?” I asked. “Your house is quite close to my library, and I don’t want to look at such an ugly sight when I roam to work.”
“Wait,” she sighed. “That’s what you’re worried about?”
…
After the breakthrough, the rest of the day passed at a quieter tempo. I spent the time cultivating and researching some of the things I had gathered from the Misty Mountains.
Later, I made my way toward Song Song’s war place, the sports ground she favored.
It had been rebuilt after she had quite literally smashed me through it. Fresh stone replaced shattered slabs, and the ground had been newly leveled, though faint scars still lingered if one knew where to look. Some things resisted being fully erased.
I stepped inside.
Only Song Song was there.
She stood near the center of the meeting room, sitting in her throne-like chair, loose robes draping over her figure. Dark hair fell freely down her back, catching the light in soft strands. When she turned, her deep blue eyes settled on me with their usual calm intensity.
There was no weapon in her hands. No active technique. But there was always… that presence about her.
“You’re late,” she said mildly.
“Had things to deal with,” I replied.
I glanced around before teasing her. “Looks like the place survived you this time.”
She smiled faintly. “Barely.”
I walked closer, my boots echoing softly against the newly laid stone.
“So,” I asked, “what are we here to discuss this time?”
“Any suspicious reports?” she asked.
Wait. She was supposed to be reading those reports herself. War reports were nothing like tedious paperwork.
“So you didn’t notice,” I sighed.
“Notice what?” she asked, though her eyes sharpened slightly.
“The beasts,” I said. “There’ve been fewer reports. Fewer sightings. Even patrols have been quieter.”
Song Song hummed softly, considering. “The four sects have been hunting heavily since winter.”
“Heavily is an understatement,” I said. “Entire nests wiped out. Migration routes cut short.”
“They slaughtered a lot of them last winter. More than usual,” she nodded at her own conclusion.
“You think that’s all there is to it?” I frowned.
“For now,” she said. “Beasts aren’t stupid. The stronger ones retreat when the cost becomes too high.”
Her gaze drifted toward the open entrance.
“The weaker ones… die.”
“That kind of pressure doesn’t just disappear,” I said. “It builds up somewhere else. After all, there’s literally a saying about cornered beasts.”
Song Song looked back at me, her expression unreadable. “Exactly. Reduced activity doesn’t mean safety. It means the balance is shifting.”
Okay. Was it just me, or did she sound smarter when she said that? Where did she copy those words from?
I exhaled slowly.
“I don’t like where it’s shifting,” I said.
She tilted her head slightly, studying me.
“You rarely do," she countered.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. The rebuilt war room stood quiet around us. Like a pause before something decided to move again.
Finally, Song Song broke the silence.
“Winter taught them fear,” she said. “Spring gave them time. Summer will tell us what survived.”
I had no response to that. Though it was clear she had been reading more and picking up some pretentious quotes somewhere.
“Wait,” I suddenly said. “That’s a quote from my Beast Encyclopedia, the winter edition!”
"I find it insulting how surprised you're by that," she said.
Was Song Song actually bored enough to read my books? She was always the same, exhilarated during the first rush after doing something drastic, only to grow bored once the excitement faded.
Either way, good on her.
“We can only wait and see how this beast situation plays out,” I said finally.
She nodded.
…
Morning arrived gently, sunlight spilling across Blazing Sun Mountain as if careful not to disturb the moment.
A low fire crackled near the center of my home, different arrays conjuring an illusory flame. Its warmth carried the smell of cooked meat and fresh grain. Bowls were passed around, steam rising in soft coils before being torn apart by laughter and quiet conversation.
Breakfast had never been so lively.
But I guess even a small party was still a party.
Tingfeng sat a little straighter than usual, his presence somehow sharper, like a blade that had finally found its scabbard. His eyes were bright, his movements precise even as he reached for food.
The breakthrough had changed him. It was like looking at a different species of human. His element was Sword, but it went beyond that.
Jiang Yeming had claimed a spot opposite him, chewing with deliberate slowness, her eyes flicking toward Tingfeng more often than she probably realized. Wu Yan sat nearby, relaxed, occasionally tossing comments into the air that earned smiles from Jiang Yeming as her new best friend.
Fu Yating was there too, quieter than the others, picking at her bowl rather than eating properly.
Outside the loose ring of the yard, Speedy lay half-buried in the grass, his marked shell catching the sunlight in dull patterns. He slept deeply, legs tucked in, completely unbothered by the noise.
My gaze lingered there for a moment before drifting instinctively to the empty space beyond the wooden house.
Batsy wasn’t here.
She had calmed down after many long sessions of beatings from Speedy, and I’d started using her as a test case, trying to teach an instinct-driven beast how to properly cultivate. Progress was slow, chaotic, and occasionally annoying, but she was learning. Slowly.
“Eat more,” Jiang Yeming said suddenly, tapping Tingfeng’s bowl with her chopsticks. “You’re a newly established Foundation cultivator. Starving yourself will worry our dear teacher.”
“I’m not starving,” Tingfeng replied, deadpan. “Also, do you have to always be so dramatic?”
Wu Yan giggled. “Listen to him. Already talking like an elder.”
Tingfeng ignored her. But it seemed Jiang Yeming and Wu Yan had become thick as thieves.
Then Fu Yating made a small, sharp sound.
At first, I thought she had choked. She pressed a hand to her mouth, her face draining of color, and stood up abruptly. Her bowl tipped, clattering to the ground as she turned away. She barely made it a few steps before retching violently onto the kitchen floor.
Conversation died instantly.
“Fu Yating?” I was already on my feet.
She waved one hand weakly without turning around, her shoulders shaking as she vomited again. It took a few long moments before she straightened, wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve and breathing hard.
“I’m fine,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction.
Jiang Yeming frowned. “You don’t look fine.”
Fu Yating hesitated, then slowly turned to face us. Her eyes flicked past the others and landed on me.
“…Can I talk to you?” she asked quietly.
I nodded and followed her a short distance away into the other room, far enough that the others pretended very badly not to listen.
So I set up a silencing array.
She stood there for a moment, hands clenched in her robes, then let out a breath she had clearly been holding for a long time.
“I didn’t want to say anything yet,” she said. “I thought it was just sickness. Or stress.”
My chest tightened.
“Fu Yating," I called out her name softly.
She met my eyes.
“I’m pregnant," she said.
The world narrowed to that single word.
Pregnant.
The morning sounds felt distant, from the fake fire, the murmured voices behind us, and even the breeze moving through the grass outside.
I searched her face for uncertainty or doubt. There was none.
“How long?” I asked finally.
“Not long,” she replied. “A little over a month. That’s why I’ve been… off.”
It probably said a lot about what a terrible husband I’d been that I hadn’t even noticed her condition.
I exhaled slowly, grounding myself.
“Does anyone else know?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No. You’re the first.”
I glanced back toward the kitchen.
Wu Yan was pretending very hard not to stare. Jiang Yeming’s eyes were sharp, already piecing things together. Tingfeng clearly didn’t care, busy taste-testing the food and piling onto his plate whatever he liked.
I looked back at Fu Yating.
“Alright,” I said. “We’ll handle this. Carefully. We were already prepared for it.”
Her shoulders loosened slightly, relief flickering across her face. “I was afraid you’d be… I don’t know.”
“Angry?” I let out a breath that was half a laugh. “No. Just… surprised.”
Behind us, Speedy shifted in his sleep, letting out a soft, content sound.
The celebration continued, but the meaning of the morning had changed completely.
Still, I was going to be a father.
Was I supposed to feel so… empty?
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