Pregnant with the Immortal Venerable's Child After Divorce - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Want to?

Tian Shu Peak, Ming Xin Sect.

A group of young disciples stood neatly lined up on the Tian Shu Plaza. Each wore the uniform blue and white disciple robes, their faces beaming with excitement and joy. Illuminated by the early spring sun, they looked vibrant and full of youthful vigor.

These were the disciples who had recently passed the selection process and were formally joining the sect today. After listening to a speech, they would be taken on a tour.

The speaker stood at the front, tall and slender, with a straight posture. His voice was not loud, yet it clearly reached every ear. His tone carried a chill similar to his demeanor, like a wisp of wind blowing down from a snowy mountain.

Yan Zhu sat on a tree not far away, carefully tracing the man’s features in his mind, though he couldn’t clearly see his face from this distance. While pondering how someone could have such a beautiful face, he yawned widely.

He shouldn’t have gone fishing last night; he stayed up all night just to catch an old shoe. He might as well have slept soundly in bed.

That way, he wouldn’t have to be here today…

He thought vaguely, his head starting to bob, looking like he might tumble from the tree at any moment. He was only jolted awake when a cold “Yan Zhu” echoed in his Sea of Consciousness. He quickly rubbed his eyes and looked up—

Only to meet the curious stares of a large group of disciples.

He scratched the tip of his nose awkwardly, then flipped himself down to land on his feet. With his hands behind his back, he casually walked toward the person who had spoken, only raising his eyes to look at him when he stood directly in front of him.

Now that he was closer, he could see the man’s appearance more clearly.

“Little Senior Brother,” Yan Zhu greeted him, his clear, pleasant voice carrying a hint of a smile. “I thought you wouldn’t make it back in time.”

The person opposite him stared at him for a few breaths before saying in a low voice: “I returned last night. You weren’t here.”

“I went fishing,” Yan Zhu explained. When the other party simply hummed in acknowledgment, Yan Zhu didn’t say anything more. He circled behind the man and walked toward the other Senior Brothers and Sisters.

Third Senior Brother Huai Su Rong smiled when he saw him approach and asked, “What did you catch last night?”

Yan Zhu didn’t answer. He simply rummaged through his Qiankun (Cosmic) Ring, pulled out the previous day’s trophy, shoved it into Huai Su Rong’s arms, and stood properly with his hands clasped behind his back.

As soon as he stood still, a few disciples couldn’t help but quietly ask the person next to them: “Who is he?”

“Look at his clothes, he seems to be an Elder.”

“The Ming Xin Sect has quite a few Elders. Which one is he…”

“I heard the Pill Peak Elder is very good-looking.”

“The Pill Peak Elder is a woman, what are you looking at? That’s Elder Yan.”

Everyone was momentarily confused.

The Ming Xin Sect has many specific positions; most Elders’ prefixes indicate what they are responsible for. Why was there one who was only referred to by his surname?

At this point, someone offered a further explanation: “That’s Yan Zhu, Martial Uncle Yan.”

Only then did the crowd understand, and their gazes at Yan Zhu became slightly tinged with teasing.

The Ming Xin Sect Master had a total of four disciples. Wen Su Chen was his closed-door disciple, possessing exceptional talent. In just two hundred years, he had surpassed the First Senior Sister and established a reputation in the cultivation world. After years of solitary cultivation, his current cultivation level could be said to be the highest in the contemporary world. When the Sect Master went traveling a hundred years ago, he even entrusted the sect’s authority to Wen Su Chen, making him the acting manager. Although he didn’t officially hold a position in the sect, everyone knew he was the definite future Sect Master.

The only “blemish” on such an astonishingly talented figure was a marriage arranged by his sect centuries ago.

His Dao-companion (spouse) was the Sect Master’s only son, who had low cultivation, was extravagant and dissolute, and had nothing to offer except his good looks. He was the Immortal Gate’s famous beautiful idiot.

Many felt Yan Zhu was unworthy of him, subtly and overtly advising Wen Su Chen to divorce him or take concubines. Some even directly confronted the Ming Xin Sect Master, asking if he intended to let his useless son leech off Wen Su Chen for a lifetime. But Wen Su Chen blocked all these attempts.

He said his Junior Brother was very good, and the marriage arranged by his Master was also very good.

Though his tone was firm and certain, to outsiders, it was merely an act of protection. Consequently, the rumors grew increasingly bizarre. Some even suspected Wen Su Chen was being blackmailed by his Master and was thus forced to tolerate this Junior Brother.

Despite his notorious “reputation,” Yan Zhu rarely appeared in public. This was the first time these disciples had seen him, and well… the rumors were not entirely unfounded. At least, he was indeed exceptionally good-looking.

His skin was snow-white, his face small and delicate, yet his features were well-defined and exquisite. His jawline was clear and smooth. He had a clean, transparent look, yet he possessed a pair of naturally charming and seductive “peach blossom” eyes. When he wasn’t smiling, his eyes were bright and seemed somewhat innocent, making him look like a well-behaved and handsome youth. When he smiled, his eyes gained a hint of lively flirtation—cute but not overly alluring.

Many disciples’ hearts skipped a beat when they saw his face. They couldn’t help but mutter: “Perhaps Martial Uncle Wen genuinely likes him.”

“Martial Uncle Wen isn’t that superficial!”

“He’s just lucky; he benefited from the Sect Master. If it were me, I could do the same.”

“Indeed, if I had that look, I wouldn’t have turned out like this.”

“My ancestor also ascended once. If it weren’t for my useless father, maybe I would be the one marrying Martial Uncle Wen today…”

The topic drifted further and further afield, but no one spoke up to stop it.

Almost every time new disciples join the sect, this kind of talk emerges. Yan Zhu’s ears were numb from hearing it. He lowered his head, playing with the small gourd hanging from his waist, pretending to be deaf.

Although no one interrupted, the sound of the discussions gradually subsided, as everyone sensed that the atmosphere seemed a little off. They dared not speak up again, instead looking at Wen Su Chen, who stood at the front of the crowd with his eyes lowered.

He was circling and drawing on a piece of paper. He finally circled a list of names and handed it to Huai Su Rong, who was standing next to him, without saying much. However, the disciples who had just been gossiping felt an inexplicable pressure, feeling that something bad was about to happen.

The next moment, Huai Su Rong’s words confirmed their premonition: “The first rule of the Ming Xin Sect Disciples’ Code is to respect one’s masters and value the Dao. Since you have the energy to gossip about a Martial Uncle, you probably don’t have much energy for cultivation.” He paused, but didn’t mention any punishment, only saying, “Cultivators have sharp ears and clear sight. It’s normal not to be accustomed to it since you’ve just embarked on the path of immortality. Next time you want to say such things, you still need to avoid being overheard, lest you leave a bad impression.”

The disciples’ expressions immediately changed.

Although he didn’t say it outright, Huai Su Rong’s meaning was very clear—

You talked so much nonsense that the Elders all heard it. Forget becoming a direct disciple; even if you want to ask them for advice, they will remember today’s incident with Junior Brother.

Some immediately regretted it and wanted to beg for mercy, but Huai Su Rong didn’t give them a chance. He smiled and continued with the next part, dividing all the disciples into teams based on their future direction of study.

The Ming Xin Sect was too vast. They couldn’t introduce every place to the disciples, so they could only divide them this way, with a few Elders leading them to tour the peaks they would frequent in the future. After that, their cultivation would depend on their own efforts.

With Wen Su Chen as its living brand, the Ming Xin Sect was the top choice for almost all sword cultivators. These people accounted for two-thirds of the attendees and were led by Third Senior Brother Huai Su Rong.

Of the remaining third, those specializing in alchemy and artifact refining took up half, led by the First Senior Sister. The miscellaneous cultivators took the other half, assigned to the Second Senior Brother. Finally, there were only a few left who hadn’t decided where to go.

It was then that Yan Zhu took two steps forward and spoke: “If you don’t cultivate anything, can’t do anything, and don’t want to study properly, come stand in front of me. I’ll take you to the Spirit Herb Garden for a walk.”

Upon hearing this, the remaining few immediately ran toward the sword cultivator group.

Yan Zhu shrugged: “Still so many disciples who don’t know a good thing when they see it this year.”

Huai Su Rong said, “You can come and help me.”

“Do your own work. I’m going back to sleep,” he said, waving a hand. He casually summoned a white crane, leaped onto its back, and flew away quickly, afraid of being genuinely roped into helping.

The white crane carried him over several peaks and finally landed on Fenshue Peak.

That was his residence.

Fenshue Peak was covered with many strange flowers and plants. Since they were not often tended, they grew wildly like a desolate field, looking slightly out of place next to the magnificent palace within.

Yan Zhu didn’t look closely. He went straight through the flowers and grass back to his room, climbed onto the bed, and fell asleep instantly.

He slept deeply until he was jolted awake by three deep, loud gongs of a bell. He glanced outside.

It was completely dark. The bell that just rang was likely the curfew bell. Hearing this sound, the disciples knew that the sect’s teleportation arrays were locked, and the spirit beasts had returned to their nests and would no longer carry people. To go to other peaks, they would need to fly with their swords or use their own spirit beasts.

Yan Zhu got up, washed his face, and headed to the study.

Only a few lamps were lit in the room. Wen Su Chen had returned at some point. He was wearing a light-colored unlined robe and was sitting at the desk, reading a book with his head lowered. The candlelight cast a warm glow on him, melting away his innate cold temperament, but that layer of warmth was quickly stirred and disappeared as Wen Su Chen turned his head and looked over with his indifferent gaze.

“Little Senior Brother,” Yan Zhu called out. He quickened his pace and ran over. As soon as he got close, Wen Su Chen handed him a plate of sliced spiritual fruits.

Yan Zhu picked up a piece and popped it into his mouth, then offered one to Wen Su Chen, saying indistinctly, “Did you get injured while you were away this time?”

Wen Su Chen shook his head.

Yan Zhu then told him about the situation outside the main hall, mentioning that he wanted to find a few disciples to tidy up the flowers and plants.

Wen Su Chen nodded.

Yan Zhu was already used to this kind of exchange with him. Little Senior Brother was a very silent person, so he was usually the one talking. If the person opposite him didn’t give some reaction, it would look like he was talking to himself.

He talked and ate at the same time. Once the spiritual fruits on the plate were all gone, he finally said, “I’m going to take a bath.”

Wen Su Chen looked at him.

Yan Zhu looked back at him.

Wen Su Chen had superior bone structure and contours—a prominent brow ridge, a straight nose bridge, and a clean, sharp jawline—sturdy yet refined. His long, almond-shaped eyes, clear white against pure black, already gave him a cold, unapproachable air. His thin lips made him look somewhat aloof and indifferent.

Yan Zhu really liked his face. After watching for a while, his ears felt a little hot. He leaned closer to Wen Su Chen, his voice softer than before, more yielding: “Together.”

Wen Su Chen gently pursed his lips upon hearing this. His usually cold, rigid voice also softened slightly: “Want to?”