The trope of "killing one's wife to prove one's Dao" was once a popular motif in various online novels, sparking widespread criticism among readers. It also appeared in the original storyline of "Asking the Dao."
When Xia Lianqiao read it, she couldn't help but want to complain—what kind of "heartless Dao" was this supposed to be?
Bai Ji hadn't expected this matter to require a visit to the Chen family ancestral hall. He raised an eyebrow slightly, a hint of surprise flickering across his face.
Led by Chen Mengfu, the ancestral hall, usually kept hidden from outsiders, slowly opened its doors.
Chen Jingwen, Chen Mengfu's eldest son, accompanied them, assisting with the preparations.
As a prominent family with a century-old legacy in Chen County, the Chen ancestral hall was built with utmost extravagance. The towering gatehouse, the winding corridors, the soaring eaves, and the intricate carvings all spoke of their wealth and status.
Xia Lianqiao followed Bai Ji'an and the others into the main hall of the ancestral hall. Inside, countless gilded shrines, adorned with dragon motifs, were arranged in tiers. The air was thick with the smoke of incense, swirling like clouds, while thousands of lamps flickered like stars.
In the corners hung numerous scrolls, each depicting children no older than ten.
Chen Jingwen explained, "These are the children who were sacrificed to the flood dragon over the past century. Since our Chen family failed them, we enshrined them here to receive some incense offerings."
"Everyone, please look at this one," Chen Jingwen said, gesturing to a particular scroll. The boy in the painting was handsome and clever, sitting upright with eyes that betrayed a calmness beyond his years. "This child was sacrificed ten years ago. Originally, the lot fell to his frail younger sister, but he took pity on her and volunteered to throw himself into the East Sea."
Xia Lianqiao glanced at the small characters beneath the painting, which read "Chen Chifeng," the fourth son of the family, known as Chen Silang.
As everyone sighed in lament, Chen Mengfu suddenly produced a wooden box and unfurled another scroll.
The painting revealed a young man with a cold expression, pale and thin, dressed in black Daoist robes, a small crown on his head, and a whisk resting in his arm. His features bore a striking resemblance to Chen Mengfu, which even Li Langhuan found surprising.
"This is why we invited you here," Chen Jingwen continued, noticing Bai Ji'an and Li Langhuan's astonishment. "The person in this painting is an ancestor of the Chen family, from hundreds of years ago."
Bai Ji'an asked, "Could it be that this ancestor was acquainted with the flood dragon?"
"Indeed, you are correct," Chen Mengfu replied with a bitter smile.
...They were more than just acquaintances.
Xia Lianqiao couldn't help but complain in her mind—this was the ruthless man who killed his wife to prove his Dao.
Yes, the flood dragon that plagued the East Sea was none other than the ill-fated wife of this Chen ancestor.
Chen Mengfu nodded slightly. "This ancestor once practiced immortal arts. He was a prodigy, blessed with an innate talent for immortality, but he was born with a weak constitution. No amount of miraculous elixirs could cure him.
"One day, an old Daoist passing through told him that he had a destiny with the Dao and would one day enter the Immortal Sect. He also gave him a spiritual medicine.
"After taking it, he immediately felt its effects and devoted himself entirely to the pursuit of immortality."
Xia Lianqiao's thoughts drifted to the original novel's description of this story.
Having witnessed the wonders of immortal arts firsthand, how could he easily abandon his obsession with immortality? Because of the old Daoist's words, Chen Xuan became consumed by cultivation, spending day and night meditating and refining elixirs.
Perhaps due to his lifelong frailty, Chen Xuan was emotionally detached and cold. He had somehow learned a cultivation method that required severing all familial ties and desires, and he secluded himself, cutting off contact with friends and relatives.
Ironically, when Chen Xuan was critically ill, his parents arranged a marriage to Xiao Lingbo, a girl from a poor and sickly family, in the hopes of bringing him good fortune.
Once Chen Xuan recovered, he returned to his obsession with cultivation, leaving Xiao Lingbo in a precarious position. She had married him in her youth, full of tender feelings for her cold husband, believing that with enough effort and care, she could win his affection and bring him back to her.
In reality, she paid a heavy price for her naivety.
To please her husband, she tried everything, but nothing worked. Chen Xuan barely spared her a glance, and when he did, his gaze was as cold as if he were looking at a lifeless object.
For Chen Xuan, the path to immortality was anything but easy. How could a non-initiate of the Immortal Sect hope to achieve it? After years of arduous cultivation, he remained stuck, unable to make progress.
Chen Xuan's parents, already displeased with his neglect of family duties and his obsession with immortality, directed their frustrations at Xiao Lingbo, blaming her for failing to bring their son back to the right path and for not bearing a child after so many years.
No one knew that Xiao Lingbo had never even touched the hem of Chen Xuan's robe. With no support from her own family, a cold and indifferent husband, and in-laws who treated her as nothing more than a breeding tool, Xiao Lingbo lived in constant fear and anxiety in the Chen household. Only Chen Xuan's younger sister showed her any kindness, while the servants often mistreated her.
Desperate, Xiao Lingbo tried even harder to get closer to Chen Xuan, but her efforts only earned her his disdain, pushing him further away.
Chen Xuan, meanwhile, grew increasingly obsessed with alchemy and immortality, locking himself in his alchemy room, becoming more paranoid, gloomy, pale, and deranged.
Years passed, and seeing that their son was truly severing all familial ties, Chen Xuan's parents, in desperation, resorted to a powerful drug akin to the "Immortal's Allure" and secretly had a servant administer it.
Thus, on a stormy night, Chen Xuan and Xiao Lingbo finally consummated their marriage.
But when the shy young woman awoke, she was met not with tender words from her husband.
Chen Xuan sat in stunned silence, his eyelashes and lips trembling violently, his expression far from joyful.
Xiao Lingbo, sensing something was wrong, tried to speak, but Chen Xuan pushed her away and stumbled out the door.
After a moment of desperate struggle, Chen Xuan turned back, his usually icy eyes now burning like ghostly flames, his pale face illuminated by the flashes of lightning. Years of seclusion had left him gaunt and frail.
Amid the rolling thunder, Chen Xuan walked toward her, his once manic and gloomy demeanor now eerily calm.
He returned to the room, swiftly drew a sword from the weapon rack—a sword that had only ever been ornamental—and without a word, plunged it into Xiao Lingbo's chest.
The slanting rain mixed with her blood as it splattered onto Chen Xuan's robes, staining his shoes as he walked away, never looking back.
This story serves as a cautionary tale: devotion to a belief, when taken to extremes, can lead to madness.
Xia Lianqiao suspected that the author created Xiao Lingbo's tragic backstory to set up Bai Ji'an's harem.
Unlike her, Chen Mengfu hadn't read the script and didn't know that Chen Xuan was the kind of man who would kill his wife to prove his Dao. He only knew that Chen Xuan and his wife had a bitter relationship, and that the flood dragon seemed to be the transformed spirit of Chen Xuan's wife, Xiao Lingbo.
An image of Xiao Lingbo had once existed, but the Chen family, deeming it inauspicious, had burned it.
The relationship between husband and wife can be both intimate and distant, and there are countless reasons for resentment. When asked about the enmity between Xiao Lingbo and the Chen family, Chen Mengfu couldn't provide a clear answer.
Bai Ji'an and Li Langhuan fell into deep thought, while Chen Mengfu dared not interrupt. Xia Lianqiao, unable to reveal spoilers, remained silent, and the ancestral hall became so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.
Just then, a cold and haughty voice broke the silence, "This is enough."
Facing the gazes of the crowd, the young man dressed in snow-white robes had pale eyes that were as calm as still water. "Knowing this much is already sufficient," he said.
Bai Ji'an chuckled. "Aren't you curious about the details, fellow Daoist?"
"What does her past have to do with me? I will simply cut it down with my flying sword," Ling Chongxiao replied expressionlessly, his brows and lashes as cold as snow.
His words fell like shards of ice, each syllable striking with a crisp, jade-like sound that sent a chill through anyone who heard them.
Bai Ji'an was momentarily stunned but chose not to press further. He had come today only to avoid complications, and now that he had a rough understanding of the situation, Ling Chongxiao saw no need to linger. With a slight nod, he declared arrogantly, "I will return to refine the elixir. Give me five days, and I will surely level the demon's lair in the East Sea."
With that, the young man rose to his feet and took his leave without so much as a sideways glance.
Chen Mengfu was left speechless.
Bai Ji'an offered a wry smile. "Fellow Daoist Ling is truly as swift as the wind and as cold as a sword."
Nevertheless, with Ling Chongxiao's guarantee, the matter was tentatively settled.
---
Xia Lianqiao could no longer remember how the protagonist group in the original story had dealt with the evil dragon. In the grand scheme of things, her role in the battle had been nothing more than a sidekick who constantly dragged the protagonists down.
Given the butterfly effect, Xia Lianqiao didn't believe that Bai Ji'an and the others would be able to protect her if a real fight broke out.
To be honest, whenever she read novels or watched TV shows, she always found herself identifying with the maidservants in palace dramas who were dragged away and beaten to death, the unlucky souls in disaster movies who were chased down and devoured by zombies, or the background characters in school romances who gossiped about the main couple's love life.
Xia Lianqiao: "..." Background characters should know their place. She had no intention of gambling her life to see if she could somehow return to her original world.
She still wanted to survive and make it back home, just like in the novels, where the flow of time between worlds might be different.
Unlike the typical orphaned transmigration heroines, Xia Lianqiao came from a happy family, which was why she had developed such a personality.
Bai Ji'an's favorability toward her was clearly in the negative.
She considered the possibility of clinging to someone powerful for protection—
...But no, it was better to rely on herself.
Mountains can crumble, and people can flee.
Thus, to ensure her survival and minimize injuries five days from now, Xia Lianqiao asked Li Langhuan to give her an intensive five-day training session. She wasn't aiming to become some overpowered protagonist who could slap faces left and right—she just wanted to be able to protect herself and avoid being a burden.
Five days was far too short a time to accomplish much, but even so, Xia Lianqiao poured her heart into it, displaying a tenacity akin to a cockroach's. She hadn't worked this hard even during the days leading up to her college entrance exams. For the first three days, she barely slept, spending every waking moment familiarizing herself with how to channel spiritual energy.
The original novel had mentioned that Xia Lianqiao's talent was above average, though she was unfortunately a hopeless romantic.
In the first two days, thanks to the original body's innate talent and Li Langhuan's guidance, Xia Lianqiao made rapid progress. She was able to circulate her spiritual energy through several cycles, feeling it grow abundant and flow naturally, accompanied by faint rumbles of thunder.
But by the third day, with only two days left before they were to set off for the East Sea, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't make any further progress.
---
Within the Chen estate, the winding covered walkways were shaded by banana trees, and a clear stream flowed around the steps, its gentle gurgling filling the air.
Nearby, a few maidservants in colorful skirts and flowing ribbons, their hair styled in low buns and adorned with jade pendants, held golden trays and jade cups as they curiously watched the two figures not far away.
"Fellow Daoist Xia, you've already done very well," said one of the girls, her skin as pale as snow and her beauty radiant even without makeup. This was Li Langhuan.
Perhaps sensing Xia Lianqiao's anxiety, Li Langhuan took the initiative to comfort her.
"Really?" Picking up the wooden sword from the ground, Xia Lianqiao replied dryly, "But I still feel like it's not enough."
She swung the wooden sword in a manner reminiscent of a calisthenics routine, yet her companion still managed to offer words of encouragement without laughing. Xia Lianqiao couldn't help but feel touched.
The young girl didn't mock her anxiety or nervousness but instead continued to reassure her. "It's good that you have such a strong desire to improve, but remember, haste makes waste."
Realizing that she wasn't going to make any breakthroughs today, Xia Lianqiao, who was naturally easygoing and didn't dwell on negative emotions, picked up the wooden sword and decided not to push herself further. Instead, she asked, "Langhuan, how did you train back then?"
"Me?" The girl paused, as if recalling something, and after a moment of hesitation, she slowly replied, "Back then... I had my foster father to guide me."
"Foster father?" Xia Lianqiao asked, pretending to be curious.
Who else could Li Langhuan's foster father be but Ling Chongxiao?
She asked mainly because she was genuinely curious about Li Langhuan's feelings toward Ling Chongxiao. The subtle interactions between such characters outside the original story were truly fascinating to her.
Li Langhuan pursed her lips slightly. "He's called my foster father, but he's actually around the same age as me. He adopted me when he was only twelve, and I was just a nine-year-old child."
"My foster father... is different from ordinary people."
The two of them were sitting under the covered walkway, and Xia Lianqiao thought for a moment before asking, "What kind of person is your foster father? Are you afraid of him, Fellow Daoist Li?"
At the mention of Ling Chongxiao, the usually cheerful and straightforward Li Langhuan, who had a somewhat boyish demeanor, couldn't help but change her expression. Her eyes revealed a mix of reverence and affection.
