Pregnant with the Immortal Venerable's Child After Divorce - Chapter 20(1.2)

Chapter 20(1.2): You Only Know Two Positions in Bed. . .

A Fu, when he used to transform into a cat, would occasionally act spoiled like this with him, but as a person, he would only, at most, hold his hand. He had never done this before. Now that he was exposed, he was willing to act spoiled in this way.

But it has to be said that this move indeed caught Yan Zhu somewhat off guard. He subconsciously reached out to stroke his hair, but quickly remembered that something wasn’t quite right and hastily withdrew his hand: “What are you doing?”

A Fu didn’t answer him, but instead said: “Don’t be angry.”

The voice wasn’t soft; it carried an unpracticed stiffness, and it wasn’t A Fu’s tone—it was Wen Sucheng’s.

Or more accurately, it was Wen Sucheng trying to speak like A Fu.

Yan Zhu lowered his eyes to look at him: “If you don’t say anything, I’ll definitely be angry.”

A Fu hesitated for a moment, then told Yan Zhu the truth.

He explained everything, from why he created this fragment of consciousness to why he chose to continue deceiving Yan Zhu.

He was a man of few words and not good at embellishment. Even when speaking through A Fu’s mouth, his words were dry and unadorned.

But Yan Zhu was used to it. After listening to his words, he remained stunned for a while before softly asking: “Then where did you bury ‘it’?”

A Fu was silent for a few breaths before realizing who Yan Zhu meant by “it.” He replied: “Near Mother’s grave. I go to pay my respects regularly.”

Yan Zhu “Mhm-ed” and then fell silent again.

A Fu didn’t know what he was thinking. After hesitating for a moment, he finally asked: “Then… you’re not angry anymore?”

Yan Zhu himself couldn’t be sure.

If Wen Sucheng had just lied to him, he would certainly be angry, but his original intention was just to spare him grief. Although he had told other lies later to cover up the first one, there was no malice surging beneath those lies.

Yan Zhu couldn’t ignore his good intentions and be angry at him.

But he also couldn’t just swallow his frustration.

He quietly said: “Give me back my A Fu.”

His tone was so aggrieved it sounded like he might cry.

A Fu instantly grew flustered: “I’ve been here all along.”

“It’s not the same,” Yan Zhu said.

A Fu didn’t know how to answer. He thought for a while, then hesitantly said: “I’ll go look for a way to separate them.”

After thinking for a long time, he had come up with the terrible idea of splitting his divine soul.

Yan Zhu felt a bit choked up, but then he thought, this is Wen Sucheng, and decided that this thought was perfectly logical for him. He wanted to lose his temper, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it while looking at this face.

Finally, he angrily commanded: “Change back!”

A Fu carefully studied his expression. Seeing that he was serious, he rose, intending to change back behind the screen, but Yan Zhu grabbed him before he could reach it: “Right here. Change in front of me!”

A Fu hesitated at the command, but seeing Yan Zhu’s face darken, he could only comply.

The next moment, his stature slowly grew taller, and his features gradually matured.

Yan Zhu stared intently at the changes on that face. Only then did he realize that A Fu was exactly like Wen Sucheng in his younger years.

Wen Sucheng hadn’t been meticulous about hiding it, and Yan Zhu hadn’t thought that deeply about it—

Although the main reason was that Wen Sucheng and A Fu had personalities that were too different; he truly struggled to link the two together.

Yan Zhu shook his head with a silent laugh, and when Wen Sucheng had completely recovered, he raised his eyes and scrutinized him once more.

Wen Sucheng had reverted to his usual emotionless, wooden demeanor. However, while he usually looked dignified and impeccably meticulous, radiating a distancing aloofness, he now wore clothes that were completely ill-fitting. He looked a little comical, and also carried a strange sense of familiarity.

Yan Zhu lowered his head and rummaged through his spatial ring. He didn’t have Wen Sucheng’s clothes on him, but Wen Sucheng’s spatial ring certainly did.

When he saw the rows of identical disciple robes on the rack, he couldn’t help but frown.

“Don’t you have anything else to wear besides these?” Yan Zhu asked. “It’s like wearing sackcloth and mourning clothes. Anyone who doesn’t know would think there was a death in your family.”

Wen Sucheng was momentarily stunned, looking slightly troubled: “Disciple robes are good.”

Of course, Yan Zhu knew disciple robes were good; he often wore them himself at the Bright Heart Sect. But how could wearing them in the sect be the same as wearing them outside?

He frowned, intending to explain it to Wen Sucheng, but after the first sentence, he paused, feeling that something wasn’t right.

“Forget it. Wear whatever you like,” Yan Zhu pulled a set of disciple robes from the spatial ring and tossed them onto his face, folding his arms and turning away. “We’re divorced. I can’t control you.”

Wen Sucheng held the clothes, pursed his lips, and remained still.

Yan Zhu caught sight of the wooden figure standing there out of the corner of his eye, and his brow furrowed sharply.

If it were Qi Ran’yin, he would turn around… Forget it. Qi Ran’yin would never make him angry. He was so clever and sweet-tongued. How could Wen Sucheng compare to him!

Yan Zhu stood with his arms crossed, angrily ignoring him. The person behind him had no choice but to change clothes first. His movements were quick and neat, and he soon returned, standing next to Yan Zhu and calling him: “Little Zhu.”

Yan Zhu didn’t move, but his eyes couldn’t resist glancing in his direction. When he caught sight of a dark corner of fabric, he paused, then quickly turned his head, only to see that Wen Sucheng had found a set of black clothes somewhere and put them on. The person who was always in white suddenly wearing this made him momentarily unable to react.

“You…”

“You don’t like it,” Wen Sucheng said, though it was unclear if he was asking or stating a fact.

Yan Zhu immediately frowned: “I didn’t say I didn’t like you wearing that.”

Wen Sucheng pursed his lips and fell silent.

Yan Zhu was used to his temperament. In the past, he would probably have kept quiet as well and gone to do something else. They had always been this way. But perhaps the days spent with A Fu had changed him, and he now knew that Little Senior Brother wasn’t completely mute.

His peripheral vision swept over Wen Sucheng’s hand, just in time to see his fingers lightly curl. After thinking for a moment, he added: “I just don’t like you always wearing that.”

Those fingers instantly relaxed.

Yan Zhu couldn’t help but curve his eyes into a smile, but quickly realized Wen Sucheng might be watching him. He immediately suppressed his smile and asked him: “How did you have these clothes with you?”

“I occasionally need them,” Wen Sucheng explained.

As for when he needed them, he didn’t elaborate.

Yan Zhu felt a bit annoyed. Hearing that, he wasn’t even the first person to see him wear this.

This thought was truly a bit unreasonable, and he restrained himself from voicing it, but his emotions were still written on his face.

Wen Sucheng looked at him: “You don’t like it.”

Yan Zhu instantly kicked him, then felt that this wasn’t right. So he turned away again, continuing to sulk.

“Little Zhu,” Wen Sucheng called him, “If you don’t like it, I’ll change.”

“Don’t!” Yan Zhu didn’t look at him but spoke out to stop him.

Wen Sucheng was slightly perplexed. He frowned, thought for a while, then tentatively asked: “Change to another color?”

Yan Zhu glanced at him: “Do you think I dislike your clothes?”

Wen Sucheng lowered his eyes and didn’t answer, but that was clearly what he thought.

Yan Zhu felt suffocated. He didn’t remember being such an unreasonable person.

At this moment, he felt a spontaneous sense that divorcing Wen Sucheng was the right decision.

Otherwise, in a few hundred years, this man would surely drive him to his death!

“I don’t like you!” Yan Zhu said angrily. “Give me back A Fu!”

Wen Sucheng frowned: “What do you want A Fu to do?”

“I don’t want him to do anything! My A Fu is sweet-tongued. He wouldn’t make me this angry!” Yan Zhu finished, feeling even angrier.

They were the same person, yet why did he become a block of wood as soon as he changed back to his original form!

Wen Sucheng stood nearby, watching Yan Zhu with lowered eyes.

He was truly not good at coaxing Yan Zhu in this form.

He was Yan Zhu’s Senior Brother, his husband. His role was to satisfy Yan Zhu’s demands, provide him with the best life and resources. He should be a powerful person worthy of Yan Zhu’s reliance.

But Yan Zhu didn’t seem to like a person like that.

Wen Sucheng didn’t know what to say. He could only say: “I apologize.”

“You are not allowed to apologize,” Yan Zhu said.

Wen Sucheng was completely silenced. He thought again, then changed back into A Fu’s appearance, squatted in front of Yan Zhu, and softly called him: “Master.”

Usually, at this point, Yan Zhu would stroke his head.

But this time, Yan Zhu did not.

He frowned, looking at the person squatting in front of him. This time, he didn’t indulge him but called out directly: “Wen Sucheng.”

Wen Sucheng instantly froze.

He had heard disciples gossiping before that being called by their full name by their parents or master made their spine tingle. Even if they hadn’t done anything wrong, they felt an urge to immediately kneel down and admit their mistakes to avoid a beating.

Wen Sucheng didn’t understand then, but now he felt it keenly.

Yan Zhu never called him that.

The three characters spat out from Yan Zhu’s mouth made Wen Sucheng realize he had made a grave mistake. However, he wasn’t as practiced as those disciples. Even though he felt it, he didn’t know what to do, only standing there stiffly, further provoking anger.

Yan Zhu was indeed angrier: “Do you think that as long as you change into A Fu, I won’t be angry with you? You’re not comforting me; you’re running away.”

Wen Sucheng immediately changed back.

“No,” Wen Sucheng explained, “I want you to be happy.”

Yan Zhu finally turned to look at him.

Wen Sucheng lowered his head, his expression serious. Although he said nothing, Yan Zhu could already feel his apology.

But he didn’t want Wen Sucheng to apologize to him.

At least not for this matter.

“Actually, we really weren’t a good match,” Yan Zhu suddenly said, out of nowhere.

Wen Sucheng’s face slightly changed, but he didn’t refute. Instead, he said: “I signed the divorce papers.”

The implication was that he hadn’t restrained Yan Zhu, and Yan Zhu was free to do whatever he wished.

Yan Zhu heard this and asked him: “Don’t you have any thoughts of your own?”

Wen Sucheng didn’t answer.

Yan Zhu said: “You are boring.”

Wen Sucheng nodded. He was indeed boring.

Yan Zhu added: “You only know two positions in bed.”

Wen Sucheng’s face instantly stiffened.

He looked at Yan Zhu in disbelief, slightly suspecting he had misheard.

Was Yan Zhu… divorcing him because of that?

His shock was so blatant that Yan Zhu couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“Is that a problem?” Yan Zhu asked.

Wen Sucheng didn’t speak. His face was expressionless, but Yan Zhu felt like he was questioning his life choices.

According to the development in romance novels, Little Senior Brother should prove himself now, but he wasn’t that kind of person, so he was now in a state of frantic wanting to speak but holding back.

In the end, he only managed to squeeze out one sentence: “I thought you liked it.”

Yan Zhu was about to ask him how did you figure that out? but quickly understood his meaning. His ears instantly flushed, and most of his original panic vanished. “That’s because you…”

You what? He couldn’t finish the sentence.

But Wen Sucheng understood. A rare blush appeared on his ears, and most of his original panic vanished.

“You can tell me,” Wen Sucheng said.

Artifacts, spiritual beasts, heavenly treasures, beautiful clothes, exquisite jewelry, an obedient apprentice, a helping disciple, or even asking him to learn skills in bed.

He could ask for everything he wanted.

But Yan Zhu never asked.

“I told you,” Yan Zhu looked at him, “I said it many times.”

He often said, change position. Wen Sucheng did listen, but he only rotated between those two positions.

After they finished, he was often too tired and fell asleep immediately, so he didn’t have many chances to talk about it.

It felt strange to bring it up after getting out of bed.

“And you only ever do it in bed,” Yan Zhu said.

Wen Sucheng was slightly confused: “Shouldn’t it be in bed?”

His confusion was so genuine that Yan Zhu choked on his words.

He really wanted to tell Wen Sucheng that there were countless variations in sexual encounters and that he should learn some, but he felt like he would be corrupting him. In the end, he could only glare at him: “When you encounter something you don’t know how to cultivate, you know to read books. Why is this matter different!”

Wen Sucheng was silent for a moment: “It’s not that I don’t know how.”

Yan Zhu frowned: “So you’re blaming me for not telling you.”

Wen Sucheng immediately shook his head.

But by this point, he would be an idiot if he didn’t understand the problem between him and Yan Zhu.

Wen Sucheng sat down next to Yan Zhu, his gaze fixed on his face.

The Master and Mistress were once famous as an immortal couple in the cultivation world, not just because of their “love,” but also because they were both so good-looking. Standing together, they were a perfect match.

As their child, Yan Zhu inherited all their good qualities and was peerlessly handsome.

If it weren’t for the events of the past, he should have also made a name for himself as a youth and been adored by thousands. Yet, when the cultivation world mentioned him now, he was either the sole son of the Bright Heart Sect Master or the Dao companion of the Descending Snow Celestial Venerable. Aside from his face, it seemed he had nothing else.

But Wen Sucheng knew that Yan Zhu was like the bright moon in the sky. If he hadn’t fallen into the mud, how could he have been brought to his side?

Wen Sucheng knew he was unworthy of Yan Zhu.

He had nothing noteworthy to offer. Even the highly praised innate sword in his hand was transformed from Yan Zhu’s spiritual treasure. He could only cultivate incessantly, constantly improving his cultivation, until he could present everything in the world to Yan Zhu.

He had once wanted to express his feelings to Yan Zhu, to live a loving life with him like an ordinary Dao couple, but he was afraid Yan Zhu would refuse, afraid Yan Zhu would be scared away.

Then let’s wait a little longer.

There was much of his own selfishness involved in his pretense as A Fu.

He wanted to know how to better interact with Yan Zhu, how to make Yan Zhu happy, and how to make Yan Zhu love him.

But he found that he simply could not learn A Fu’s tricks.

Then let’s wait a little longer.

He always thought about waiting.

Waiting until he was strong enough to protect Yan Zhu, strong enough to give Yan Zhu all the good things in the world, then he could confess his feelings to Yan Zhu.

But when he truly stood at the pinnacle, becoming the Descending Snow Celestial Venerable, the world’s best in others’ eyes, he found the burden on him was too heavy. The burden of the Bright Heart Sect rested on his shoulders, and the safety of the cultivation world rested on his shoulders. If he expressed his feelings to Yan Zhu, that burden would inevitably fall on Yan Zhu’s shoulders as well.

So he waited again.

Waiting for a more suitable successor to appear in the Bright Heart Sect, waiting for a few more powerful individuals to emerge in the cultivation world, waiting until he could step away from these burdens. Then he could act.

He waited and waited for so many years. He learned so much from A Fu, yet he never put it into practice even once.

No wonder Yan Zhu resented him.

No wonder Yan Zhu divorced him.

“Little Zhu,” Wen Sucheng called him softly, “I… I…”

He wanted to tell Yan Zhu all those words, one by one, but they caught in his throat and wouldn’t come out.

The person in front of Yan Zhu now wasn’t even his true self, but the same fragment of consciousness as A Fu. But A Fu could say those words, and he could not.

He had grown used to silence.

“I apologize,” Wen Sucheng said.

Aside from these two words, he didn’t know what else to say.

But Yan Zhu was not angry this time. He looked at Wen Sucheng, as if seeing a familiar shadow from his memory.

“My mother rarely spoke during the last ten-plus years of her life,” Yan Zhu suddenly said out of nowhere. “She wouldn’t talk to me or anyone else. She would only speak when her inner demons flared up.”

Even though the words she spoke were often hurtful and malicious to Yan Zhu.

Wen Sucheng nodded: “I know.”

Yan Zhu continued: “She also never took the medicine. She didn’t take any of the medicine you and Father found.”

Wen Sucheng didn’t know this.

He paused: “Why?”

He remembered that his Mistress’s issues were not as difficult to solve as Yan Zhu’s.

Those medicines were specially sought-out elixirs that could enhance potential. As long as she took them on time and assisted with cultivation, her cultivation could slowly recover. Although inner demons were difficult to deal with, there were always ways.

“She said it was bitter,” Yan Zhu whispered an unbelievable answer.

He didn’t understand then. As long as she could live and continue cultivating, Mother could leave Glorious Peak and do what she wanted. It was just a little bitterness. Why couldn’t she bear it?

But he didn’t dare to ask. He could only prepare many candied fruits, coaxing his mother to take the medicine just as she used to coax him as a child.

But his mother still refused to drink it, whether she was lucid or not.

Yan Zhu said: “After she left, I wanted to sort through her things, but I realized there wasn’t much left to sort.”

More precisely, apart from some clothing, only a few objects from many years ago remained.

Books she had read, scattered writings, treasured collections, and even her personal spiritual artifact.

“Those things were all kept in one box. The box was very clean, but I felt it hadn’t been opened in a long time. I don’t know if the spirit-hosting puppet cleaned it, or if Mother occasionally touched the box,” Yan Zhu said. “It wasn’t until I saw that box that I understood why she didn’t take the medicine.”

Because she no longer had anywhere she wanted to go, anyone she wanted to see, or anything she wanted to do.

Her only remaining attachment in this world was her son.

But she was her son’s nightmare and disaster.

“She handed me over to you,” Yan Zhu looked at Wen Sucheng.

His tone was very flat, as if he was just talking about a very ordinary small matter, but Wen Sucheng could still feel his sense of grievance.

It wasn’t that his perception of emotions was sensitive or that he understood Yan Zhu well, but it was an intuition: whenever Yan Zhu spoke of his Mistress, he would feel wronged.

But Wen Sucheng didn’t know how to comfort him. He stared blankly at Yan Zhu for several breaths, then lowered his head to rummage through his spatial ring. He pulled out a spiritual plant and handed it to him, saying: “I obtained this a few days ago.”