Chapter 169 - 164: What Is Love?

Yongning City, Xingye Square.

Around noon, the shops in the square had all opened for business. The streets bustled with people, and constables in their uniforms could be seen patrolling from time to time.

Although this area wasn’t the most prosperous part of the city, public order was good. Zhao Lin had bought their house in this neighborhood mainly because he valued its safety.

When Zhao Lin returned home and pushed open the gate, he saw his older brother, Zhao Shan, doing carpentry work in the courtyard with his sister-in-law, Xiulan, keeping him company.

"Brother, Sister-in-law, I’m back!"

Zhao Shan tossed aside the wood plane in his hand, strode over, and said happily, "I just knew my brother would be back today!"

He gave Zhao Lin a big hug, then turned and shouted, "Xiulan, go ahead and start cooking!"

Xiulan laughed. "Alright! You two brothers catch up. The ingredients are all ready, and the food will be on the table in a bit."

Over the past few months, Zhao Lin had come to realize that his brother had found a truly virtuous wife. Not only did she keep the house neat and tidy, but she was also incredibly respectful and attentive to their parents.

Zhao Shan noticed the cloth bag in Zhao Lin’s hand, took it for a look, and asked curiously, "What’s this black lumpy thing?"

"This is no mere black lump."

Zhao Lin smiled. "This is a Nine-headed Crow, meant to replenish Mom and Dad’s health. You boil it down into a tonic for them to drink. One mace per dose is all that’s needed."

As they joked around, he glanced at the pieces of wood on the ground and frowned. "Brother, aren’t you supposed to be resting today? Why are you still doing carpentry?"

Although Zhao Lin always brought money home for the family, Zhao Shan didn’t want to rely completely on his younger brother, so he had found a job as a carpenter at a nearby Artisan Workshop.

Zhao Lin had specifically hurried home today because he knew his brother had the day off.

Zhao Shan blushed a little. "This isn’t for the Artisan Workshop."

"It’s not?"

Zhao Lin walked over to take a closer look. The wood was just beginning to take shape. It stood less than waist-high, with what looked like a horse’s head at the front and four wheels underneath.

"It’s a wooden horse. Brother, did you take on a side job?"

"Nope."

Zhao Shan chuckled, his eyes shining with excitement. "Take a guess."

"What is there to guess?"

Zhao Lin shot his brother a puzzled look, then a realization suddenly dawned on him. "Is Sister-in-law pregnant?"

Zhao Shan roared with laughter, his face beaming with pride.

"Brother, that’s wonderful!"

Zhao Lin was genuinely happy for his brother.

Hearing their younger son was home, his father and Mrs. Zhao came out of the house as well.

"Dad, Mom!" Zhao Lin stepped forward to greet them.

His father nodded. "It’s good that you’re back."

"My boy, you seem to have lost weight."

Mrs. Zhao stroked Zhao Lin’s face. "Training is hard work. Remember to eat more."

"Don’t worry, Mom. I’m eating just fine."

Zhao Lin held his mother’s hand, feeling that it wasn’t as rough as it used to be, and a wave of relief washed over him.

...

It was a rare trip home for Zhao Lin, so the whole family bustled about, preparing a huge feast. At one point, he offered to help in the kitchen but was promptly shooed out by his mother.

During the meal, Mrs. Zhao repeatedly placed food onto his plate.

Zhao Lin accepted everything, devouring one bowl after another. He had a large appetite to begin with, and what’s more, he had to simultaneously sustain six Essence Souls. He simply couldn’t get by if he ate any less.

Watching him eat, Mrs. Zhao’s eyes narrowed in a smile. "Lin’Er," she said suddenly, "you’ll be eighteen after the New Year, won’t you?"

Zhao Lin thought for a moment. "That’s right. Eighteen after the New Year."

With his memories from a past life, Zhao Lin was mentally far more mature than his physical age would suggest. ’It’s a little absurd,’ he sometimes thought, ’to remember I’m still just a seventeen-year-old boy.’

"Eighteen is old enough. It’s time to consider marriage. Are there any suitable girls in your Xingyun Sect?"

"Well... not at the moment."

"How about I find one for you in the square? There are plenty of well-read, sensible girls around here..."

Zhao Lin quickly cut in, "Mom, I’m not in a hurry."

His father chimed in, "Lin’Er is focused on his martial arts. There’s no rush to talk about this."

Mrs. Zhao shot her husband a glare. "Martial artists are people too. You think they don’t get married?"

Zhao Lin put down his chopsticks and said with a serious expression, "Mom, I just don’t have time to think about such things. I only make it home once every week or two. If I were to marry, wouldn’t I be making my wife live like a widow?"

"Don’t say such nonsense!"

Mrs. Zhao swatted the back of his hand, feigning anger, but she didn’t bring up the subject of marriage again.

Zhao Lin breathed an inward sigh of relief.

In truth, he had given serious thought to marriage and children. His conclusion, however, was to remain single for the time being.

It wasn’t that he was trying to preserve his Primordial Yang. In fact, besides a few specific Child Skills that required it, relations with women didn’t actually affect one’s cultivation.

The real reason lay in what he had seen and heard over the past couple of years.

When a martial artist broke through to the Blood Realm, their physical peak could be extended by ten to twenty years. This meant their body would age very slowly during that time.

As a result, Blood Realm martial artists appeared much younger than their actual age.

This was especially evident in Zhao Lin’s own master.

Zhu Huaishan was over seventy, but his hair was only lightly streaked with gray, making him look no older than fifty. His wife, however, already had a full head of snow-white hair.

And that was just for a Blood Realm martial artist. If one cultivated to the Primordial Realm, the disparity would be even greater.

Zhao Lin had once read a story in a martial artist’s journal at the Celestial Water Pavilion.

Many years ago, in the Xingyun Sect, there was a pair of disciples who were childhood sweethearts. The man’s name was Deng Huanzhi, and the woman’s was Xu Lanfang.

The two had grown up together and were both exceptionally talented. At the age of twenty-two, they entered the Wuxiang Institute together.

They were joined as cultivation partners in a ceremony officiated by the Law Enforcement Elder, and for a time, their union was a celebrated tale.

However, what followed was not so idyllic.

At the age of twenty-four, Deng Huanzhi broke through to the Blood Realm. At thirty-six, he advanced to the Primordial Realm, becoming the youngest elder in the sect’s history.

Xu Lanfang’s cultivation, however, stagnated. At the age of thirty, seeing no hope of reaching the Blood Realm, she became pregnant and gave birth to a son, completely abandoning any thought of a breakthrough.

Despite the growing gap in their martial cultivation, their love remained strong. Deng Huanzhi, though engrossed in his training, never neglected his wife. Xu Lanfang supported her husband and raised their son, and their family was a picture of harmony.

Another decade or so passed, and a problem emerged.

At nearly fifty years old, Deng Huanzhi still looked like a man in his thirties. Xu Lanfang, however, was a middle-aged woman with graying hair at her temples. When they stood together, they looked less like a married couple and more like a mother and her son.

As time wore on, Xu Lanfang found the situation increasingly unbearable. She couldn’t stop herself from lashing out in anger whenever she saw her husband’s youthful face.

Deng Huanzhi understood his wife’s turmoil and patiently endured it all. He stopped celebrating his birthdays and even secretly threw away all the mirrors in their home.

On his fiftieth birthday, Xu Lanfang suddenly disappeared, leaving only a letter behind.

The letter explained that while she still loved her husband dearly, she simply could not endure the disparity in their appearances any longer. Now that their beloved son was an adult, she could finally leave in peace.

She was never heard from again.

Deng Huanzhi was heartbroken after reading the letter. He immediately set out to search for his wife, but in a world so vast, where could he possibly find her?

At the time, Deng Huanzhi had cultivated to the peak of the Primordial Realm, with one foot already across the threshold to the Martial Ancestor realm. But after this incident, he became completely disheartened and made no further progress on his martial path.

In memory of his beloved wife, he named his grandson Deng Lianfang. He died without ever seeing her again.

"It’s better that he didn’t find her..."

This comment had been scrawled in charcoal at the end of the journal entry, the work of some unknown busybody.