**Nomad: Posting schedule x2 a month, on the 12th and 24th of every month. Occasional drops of more chapters. Up for more regular chapter releases soon.**
As dawn gently broke, the maid Lian Yue began her busy day.
Lian Yue was small and not particularly strong, but she was quick and diligent, managing the Water Gathering Courtyard in perfect order. She took special care of the Third Miss of the courtyard, Wen Qiao.
After placing a copper basin filled with hot water on the stand, Lian Yue entered the inner chamber and found that the person inside was already up, leaning against the bed and coughing softly.
Hurrying over, Lian Yue gently patted her mistress’s back as she coughed, her heart aching to see her so frail. She spoke softly, “Miss, your medicine has been delayed for three days. I’ll go to the pharmacy later and urge them to hurry it up.”
As she said this, Lian Yue frowned slightly, knowing deep down she might not be able to get the medicine any sooner. But she couldn’t bear to watch her lady suffer from illness day after day.
The cough seemed to drain all of Wen Qiao’s strength. When she finally stopped, she slumped weakly against the maid, her breath shallow.
“Miss…” Lian Yue looked at her worriedly.
“No need.”
Hearing her mistress’s weak and feeble voice, Lian Yue hesitated to speak, but seeing her pale face, she remained silent.
Wen Qiao was the eldest daughter of the main branch of the Wen family, and the only girl in the household.
She should have been born into a life of luxury and high expectations, but because of her frail constitution, even with her exceptional talent, she was held back by her inherently weak meridians. She couldn’t absorb much of the world’s energy, which left her trailing behind others in cultivation—better than some, but far from the best.
Lian Yue pitied her mistress greatly. Whenever she saw Wen Qiao struggling through the Wen family’s martial arts training, hindered by her weak body, and gradually being overlooked by the family, she couldn’t help but think, if only the Master and Madam hadn’t died in the beast uprising back then. At least her lady would have someone to rely on in the Wen family, instead of fading into obscurity among the many children.
Wen Qiao knew nothing of her maid’s thoughts. After washing up with Lian Yue’s help, she sat down at the Eight Immortals table for breakfast.
Breakfast was a simple bowl of rice porridge.
The white porridge was smooth and creamy, and though it wasn’t made from spirit rice, it tasted quite good. Paired with the pickled vegetables Lian Yue had carefully prepared, it was refreshing and appetizing. Even though Wen Qiao didn’t have much of an appetite, she still managed to finish half a bowl.
Yet, Lian Yue felt that her lady ate far too little. All the other young mistresses training in martial arts would eat several bowls of rice at each meal. Cultivation naturally consumed more energy than an ordinary person, so they had to make up for it through food. Even though her lady only trained for less than half a day, it was still cultivation.
After breakfast, Wen Qiao sat in the flower hall and resumed reading *Journeys Across the Sacred Martial Continent*, a book she had started the day before.
Lian Yue swiftly tidied up the room and went out.
Half an hour later, she returned, not mentioning her earlier trip to the pharmacy, and Wen Qiao didn’t ask—there was no point, the result would be the same.
In Lian Yue’s hands was a branch of a Dan Phoenix Flower, its layered petals glowing a vibrant red. She placed it on the table, where it added a lovely touch to the room.
Lian Yue asked, “Miss, do you think it’s beautiful?”
Wen Qiao glanced at it, her voice still calm and distant, “It is.”
Although there was no hint of praise in her tone, Lian Yue was still pleased, beaming as she said, “Today is your coming-of-age ceremony, Miss. I know the Wen family won’t hold a proper ceremony for you—they’ve probably forgotten about it—but I haven’t! When I passed through Changchun Garden earlier, I saw the Dan Phoenix flowers blooming beautifully. I heard they’re the Fourth Miss’s favorite, and no one is allowed to pick them. I secretly plucked one for you, as a gift for your coming of age…”
Wen Qiao’s hand, which had been holding a book, paused, and her usually cold expression showed a trace of surprise.
Seeing this, Lian Yue felt a bit of regret for bringing it up, but she couldn’t just pretend she didn’t know.
If even she forgot, who in this world would remember that her lady had come of age?
In Dongling Kingdom, martial prowess was valued over cultural customs, and traditional ceremonies weren’t given much importance. But most prominent families still meticulously followed these traditions to show their care for their children, as well as to display their exceptional offspring to the world.
Unfortunately, Wen Qiao wasn’t considered among the Wen family’s outstanding descendants.
Lian Yue sighed. Her lady, though born into nobility, was left without parents and was frail from birth. It was a miracle she had grown up to this point, and they couldn’t expect much more from fate.
—
Just when Lian Yue thought this day would pass as uneventfully as any other, something happened within the Wen family that would change their lives forever.
The Emperor of Dongling, Chenghao, decreed a marriage between his seventh prince and Wen Qiao, the Third Miss of the Wen family.
The Wen family was stunned when they received the imperial edict.
When the second wife, Madam Liu, arrived at the Water Gathering Courtyard, she saw the frail young girl sitting under the veranda, reading.
Leaning against the weathered columns, Wen Qiao’s inky black hair fell smoothly like a raven’s feathers, accentuating her pale, porcelain-like face. She wore a light green, slightly worn dress, without a single piece of jewellery. She was like a stalk of bamboo—simple and serene. With her head lowered over a book, she sat quietly, exuding an air of cold elegance that was captivating.
Occasionally, when she coughed softly, her thin body trembled slightly, adding to her fragile appearance, making one’s heart ache with pity.
Lian Yue noticed the second wife and hurried forward to pay her respects, asking, “Second Madam, why have you come?”
Second Madam seemed slightly embarrassed.
She was a busy woman, managing the affairs of the entire household, and had little time to concern herself with someone as invisible as Wen Qiao. Still, being asked so directly by a mere maid made her feel a little uncomfortable.
Wen Qiao slowly stood up, her calm, clear eyes looking at the second wife.
Her gaze was cold and unfathomable, her dark eyes deep and bright. Though beautiful, they were too detached. The second wife felt unsettled under her gaze, but smiled as she spoke, “Ah Qiao, I’m here to inform you that His Majesty has issued an imperial decree. You are to marry the seventh prince.”
Lian Yue was stunned. “What? The Seventh Prince?”
The second wife nodded, noticing that Wen Qiao still wore the same indifferent expression, revealing neither joy nor sorrow, as if nothing in the world could stir her emotions. The second wife sighed inwardly. While the Seventh Prince, Ning Yuzhou, was known to be a failure in cultivation, a far cry from the talented Third and Fifth Princes, he was greatly favoured by Emperor Chenghao. He lacked for nothing and was far luckier than Wen Qiao, who was sickly and weak.
Though no one could fathom why the Emperor chose Wen Qiao for the Seventh Prince, no one dared openly question it.
After delivering the news, the second wife didn’t stay long and quickly left.
Lian Yue, after finally processing the shocking marriage decree, looked at her mistress’s stunningly beautiful face and felt a knot tighten in her heart.
On the Sacred Martial Continent, martial arts reigned supreme, and the practice of cultivation was widespread. Even though Dongling Kingdom was just a small country in the eastern region of the continent, it was still influenced by this ethos. People absorbed the energy of heaven and earth into their bodies, refining their physical form with the hope that one day they could ascend to the upper realms, shedding their mortal shell to achieve the body of a god.
The Wen family was an old and prestigious family in Dongling. It was said that one of their ancestors had reached the pinnacle of cultivation and ascended to the upper realms, leaving behind countless cultivation resources for future generations. This propelled the Wen family, once commoners, into the ranks of the aristocracy in Dongling, where they held a significant status.
The descendants of the Wen family lived up to this legacy—very few of the direct line lacked spiritual roots, and most walked the path of martial cultivation.
Though Wen Qiao was weak and sickly, her spiritual root test at the age of five revealed an exceptional aptitude, a rare and prized spiritual root. She had been dedicated to cultivation over the years, and though her progress was slow, she was still far better than those who couldn’t cultivate at all.
To marry a cultivator like her to an ordinary mortal—wasn’t that an open insult?
What good was it for the Seventh Prince to be favoured by Emperor Chenghao? He was still a mere mortal, a wastrel who couldn’t cultivate. At best, a mortal like him could only live for a hundred years. How could such a lifespan compare to that of a martial cultivator?
Shortly after the Second Madam left, someone else arrived at the Water Gathering Courtyard, bringing Wen Qiao’s medicine.
When Lian Yue saw the familiar white jade bottle, she opened it and sniffed, exclaiming in surprise, “It’s the spiritual medicine, Returning Spring Pill!”
Wen Qiao had been ill since birth, and ordinary medicines had little effect on her. Spiritual medicines were much more effective for her condition. However, spiritual medicines were hard to come by, and even a wealthy family like the Wens couldn’t afford to provide her with them constantly, especially since she wasn’t contributing much to the family. Most of the time, she was given regular Returning Spring Pills instead of the precious spiritual ones.
Lian Yue was overjoyed and quickly fetched water, urging her mistress to take the medicine, all the while sighing, “So this marriage does have its benefits after all. It’s really wonderful.”
It was as if she had never criticized the Seventh Prince’s inability to cultivate just moments ago.
After Wen Qiao swallowed the Returning Spring Pill, she felt a warm current spreading through her meridians, and the constant, bone-deep pain she had been enduring eased considerably.
Indeed, spiritual medicine was far superior to ordinary pills. Seeing that her mistress looked much better, Lian Yue was relieved and happy. She thought to herself, even if the Seventh Prince was a wastrel, it didn’t matter. As long as this marriage allowed her lady to take more spiritual medicines to alleviate her suffering and live longer, she wouldn’t ask for anything more.
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