My Wife Is A Sword Immortal-Chapter 160 - 141 The Plaintive Cry of the Cold Cicada

Chapter 160: Chapter 141: The Plaintive Cry of the Cold Cicada (Extra update for “Zhou Yafu’s” brother Captain) (4K two-in-one mega chapter)_2

Chapter 160: Chapter 141: The Plaintive Cry of the Cold Cicada (Extra update for “Zhou Yafu’s” brother Captain) (4K two-in-one mega chapter)_2

A bad one, and an even worse one.

The former is Jiang Chebai, the latter is just you, a useless piece of trash.

Is this the choice you gave her?

If it were up to me, I definitely wouldn’t choose you, hmm, nor would I choose Jiang Chebai. You all can go die for all I care; I wouldn’t choose any of you…

You’re so close to her, yet you hesitate, dawdling on. Do you not know what you’re thinking in your heart? Do you really not know? Or do you know, but are too ashamed to speak it out loud?”

Zhao Rong had already stopped in his tracks.

He stood there dumbfounded, listening to Gui’s three pointed questions, without a word.

Or rather, he didn’t dare to speak.

Gui chuckled softly.

“Heh, let me tell you what those dark thoughts in your mind are.

Your so-called wanting everything is just begging in the guise of wanting it all, it’s a form of greed for unearned gains. You desire both Zhao Lingfei and Su Xiaoxiao, who are in a position of weakness, to humbly crave your love—that’s when you would want them all.

Just like Su Xiaoxiao, that silly Fox Demon, on the surface she can now whimsically act coquettish with you, but deep down, her liking for you is so humble, she will always yield to you, willing to give and take. Hmm, although she does so willingly, and I have nothing to criticize.

But you’re like a chooser who reaps without sowing.

Like this time, it’s even more evident.

You want Zhao Lingfei to still choose you under these circumstances before you would show up before her, in the posture of a victor.

This is the so-called choice you say you’re giving her, for her own good.”

Zhao Rong suddenly burst into laughter.

He laughed heartily and unrestrainedly.

The passersby around him looked at this exuberant, laughing Confucian Scholar, bending over with laughter, with strange expressions on their faces.

Seeing this, Gui joined in his laughter.

“Zhao Rong, I’ve not denied your affection for them, nor have I negated those bright and pure elements in your heart.

But I still want to expose those dark thoughts lurking in the depths of your Heart Lake, those you’re subconsciously unaware of. It’s not to criticize your darker side—after all, every creature has one, and I’m no exception, nothing to criticize about that. But you must become aware of them.

I’m helping you to reflect. It’s better to become aware of these things sooner rather than later, otherwise, they will become a burden on your Great Dao, they will be the hidden, uncontrollable demons you’re unwilling to face.

We cultivators, whether doing good or doing evil, must be absolutely clear, and walk the purest path of the Great Dao. Unselfconscious hypocrisy or pretense, whether good or evil, is damnable!”

Gui laughed loudly:

This chapt𝙚r is updated by freeωebnovēl.c૦m.

“Zhao Rong, I’ve said so much to you because I don’t want you to die too soon, forcing me to go with you. I want you to live as long as possible for my sake, so where am I trying to help you? I’m actually just helping myself.

I actually think that with your personality, you’re best suited to be a Demon Cultivator. What’s the point in being a Confucian Scholar?

But I won’t let you cultivate as a demon. Why, you ask? I won’t tell you now. Just stay as you are for now; being a Confucian Scholar seems quite good.

I’ve now helped reveal some of your true feelings. How you deal with that dark side, whether you accept it or overcome it, is none of my business. As long as you’re clear about it, just don’t dawdle and not dare to face it directly anymore.”

Zhao Rong laughed and laughed.

He laughed until he couldn’t catch his breath.

He didn’t tell Gui whether he would embrace that dark side to become a demon, or overcome it to become a saint, or perhaps choose another unique path.

Zhao Rong held his stomach, straightened up, and wiped his eyes.

He breathed deeply.

“Gui, you really talk a fucking lot.”

“How’s this chicken soup for the soul?”

“Exhilarating.”

With that,

Zhao Rong turned around.

And ran with all his might towards that woman.

——————

Below You Mountain.

The many guests who had just attended a wedding of a pair of celestial lovers.

Seemed poised to witness the birth of another couple.

Today’s events could also become a beautiful talk passed down on the mountain.

And both of them were the favored children of the heavens.

Apart from Jiang Chebai’s ordinary appearance, falling a thousand miles short of Zhao Lingfei’s, all other conditions were a perfect match.

Ning Ying clapped her hands gently.

She chuckled, her gaze shifting back and forth between Zhao Lingfei and Jiang Chebai.

In a flash, Ning Ying spontaneously recalled the moment several hours ago, when they’d just ascended the mountain, and Zhao Lingfei had admitted she already had a husband, and it seemed he was a Confucian Scholar.

But now, well…

Ning Ying glanced at Zhao Lingfei in front of her.

She maintained a calm expression, looking down and scrutinizing the extraordinary Cold Cicada Sword, currently partially drawn from its scabbard, observing it intently.

Ning Ying’s smile remained unaltered.

The Cold Cicada was indeed extraordinary. After all, it belonged to a Sword Immortal of the Seventh Realm. Yet, Lingfei accepted it without much hesitation, which surprised her quite a bit.

But on second thought, it might be that Lingfei’s nominal husband was merely united with her in a marriage of convenience, possibly already dead, or perhaps even more dramatic, like the novels described, completely useless and powerless?

Were they about to witness a comeback story where fortunes shift completely after thirty years?

Ning Ying’s lips curled slightly, finding it somewhat dull.

Around her,

many of the Taiching Prefecture Students shared similar thoughts with Ning Ying.

They lost interest in Lingfei’s nominal husband no matter his status because Lingfei’s actions had already spoken volumes.

Within the crowd, even some women watched the sword with fiery eyes, their gazes filled with indescribable envy as they quietly observed Lingfei calmly scrutinizing everything. But they soon composed themselves, adopting a pretense of good wishes as they looked upon the couple on stage.

At this moment,

amongst thunderous applause, Jiang Chebai gasped for air, feeling like everything he had courageously done just moments ago was like a dream.

His face still bore a look of disbelief that he himself could scarcely trust—this was something that had only happened in his dreams, and he had even prepared himself for failure…

But none of that mattered anymore.

Lingfei had actually taken it!

She had accepted the Cold Cicada!

Was she willing to be my destiny!?

Jiang Chebai silently parted his lips trying to smile, but he couldn’t because of the harsh rise and fall of his chest.

He felt as if the whole world had changed its appearance, the future brimmed with boundless expectations, even the half-step Nascent Soul bottleneck that had stymied him for so very long seemed to have loosened in the dark.

All because of her arrival!

Jiang Chebai opened his arms awkwardly, but then he saw Lingfei emotionlessly drew the Cold Cicada a mere three inches from its sheath.

He smiled and lowered his hands, saying gently, “Lingfei, this sword…”

Cicada—Cicada—Cicada—!

Suddenly, the Cold Cicada let out a sorrowful cry!

An agonizingly mournful buzz erupted!

It could be heard for miles around.

Jiang Chebai’s speech was interrupted, and the deafening applause surrounding them was like a waterfall frozen in ice, silenced.

After the sorrowful cicada’s cry,

all returned to silence.

Complete stillness reigned, with nearly everyone’s gaze fixed on Lingfei.

She stayed in the same posture as before.

Her left hand held the Cold Cicada horizontally.

It was placed before her eyes,

level with her eyebrows.

Her right hand gripped the white fabric-wrapped hilt; her pale hand was even whiter than the cloth.

At this moment,

the Cold Cicada was drawn three inches from its sheath.

Its blade, forged from Taiyin Lustrous Iron, was as thin as cicada’s wings, completely translucent like crystal, allowing one to see the scenery on the other side through the blade.

Right at that moment, Jiang Chebai, standing opposite Lingfei, saw through the nearly transparent blade a pair of deep, autumnal eyes, two brows like distant hills in profile, and a tear-shaped mole of light brown hue.

This was a view unique to her, with which Jiang Chebai was very familiar, yet at that moment, it felt incredibly foreign to him!

Because… it was too cold.

Those deep, autumnal eyes were looking at him, through the blade.

The chill emitted by the Taiyin Lustrous Iron seemed to flow from her gaze, her elegant brows felt too distant, and the charming tear mole, which should have softened her cold demeanor, now appeared frozen, conveying an exceptional indifference to Jiang Chebai.

What frightened Jiang Chebai even more, and surprised the spectator cultivators, was… the Cold Cicada was no longer buzzing.

After that one mournful cicada’s cry,

it returned to absolute stillness, without a hint of vibration.

Jiang Chebai felt his heart plummet from the sun-warmed clouds to the icy, damp depths of a chasm, his lips quivering, “Lingfei…”

Clang—!

Lingfei instantaneously resheathed the sword, placing the Cold Cicada horizontally in front of Jiang Chebai.

Separating the two.

Like an insurmountable chasm.

She spoke in an even tone, “The Cold Cicada no longer favors me, please take the sword.”

Jiang Chebai’s ordinary face instantly turned ashen, his body frozen in place, unable to move.

The crowd around them, who had been applauding and blessing the pair, also fell silent as cicadas in winter.

After all, who would have expected the situation to develop in this direction?

The story’s unexpected conclusion could not have been foreseen by anyone who had merely guessed the beginning.