Chapter 3

Our Discord Server: https://discord.gg/PazjBDkTmW

You can buy coins here to unlock advanced chapters: https://gravitytales.com/coins-purchase-page/

The former lord of the manor cradled little Yan’er in his arms, unwilling to let go, reminiscing endlessly about how she resembled Jiao Jiao when she was young. While the nursemaids and maids tended to the child, Jiao Jiao coaxed her son to sleep. 

Afterward, she pushed open the window and gazed at the familiar courtyard. Tonight, the moon hung like a silver disc, and the fallen flowers in the courtyard were silent. Yet, the scene stirred unbidden memories of six years ago.

Six years prior, Yi Jiao Jiao was eight months pregnant with Tan Jing Zhu, on the brink of labor.

Tan Ci had urgent business and received a messenger pigeon’s message. He had to depart for Xiao Mountain overnight.

 She was exhausted from the pregnancy and had just fallen asleep when he, gritting his teeth, woke her. In a few words, he explained the emergency and assured her he would return as soon as the matter was resolved.

Then, without hesitation, he rose from the bed, donned his outer robe, and summoned the servants to ready his horse, Ta Xue.

Half-asleep and deeply uncomfortable, she barely registered his words.

By the next day, when she fully grasped the situation, Tan Ci and his entourage were already far away.

Traveling to Xiao Mountain took at least six or seven days. However, Ta Xue was a top-tier horse, so she hoped he could hasten his return.

She waited, counting the days — fourteen, fifteen nights passed, but there was no news.

Messenger pigeons from Biling Manor flew out one after another. Fearing interception, Yi Jiao Jiao used only the secret codes that only they understood. Yet, no reply came.

It was as if the messages sank into the ocean, never resurfacing.

On the sixteenth day, the child in her womb seemed to sense the unease, stirring restlessly from dawn onward. 

Yi Jiao Jiao spent the day staring blankly into the courtyard, pacing the stone bridge with Hong Guo’er’s support, walking back and forth, and glancing repeatedly at the wooden pavilion.

Apart from the suffocating anxiety, she could feel nothing else.

For a renowned sect like Biling Manor, the affairs of the martial world came and went incessantly. In her years managing Yi Shui Manor, she had faced dangers far graver than today.

She knew she had to remain in command at Biling, for the sake of her child and the countless lives in the manor.

But that night, as cool as water, the messenger who returned with the news was covered in blood, collapsing halfway through the moon gate of the manor. Yi Jiao Jiao, who had already struggled to sleep, hurriedly threw on a robe and made her way unsteadily to the gates.

Under the bright moon hanging high above, she paid no heed to propriety. When she saw the state of the messenger, her breath caught, and she had to cover her mouth to suppress a cry of alarm. If Tan Ci had gone to such lengths to save this one person to deliver a message, what of the others?

The flowers in the mountain swayed with the wind like falling rain, their disarray blurring her vision. Her mind went blank for a moment. Yi Jiao Jiao clutched Hong Guo’er’s hand tightly, her body swaying unsteadily. The steward, frightened, immediately called for help to escort her back to her room.

But in an instant, she steadied herself and brushed away everyone’s hands, placing one protective hand on her swollen belly, a gesture of resolute guardianship.

The pallor of her face was startling, but after a brief moment of panic, a calm determination settled over her features.

The mistress of Biling Manor issued her command in a low, steady voice:

“Prepare the carriage. I’m going to Xiao Mountain.”

The steward’s face was filled with shock. He stepped forward, but she raised her hand decisively, her tone unyielding, just as always. “Say no more. We leave now. I will find the manor lord myself.”

Hong Guo’er, having served Yi Jiao Jiao for many years, knew her mistress’s unwavering nature better than anyone. 

After a brief silence, she followed up swiftly, “Bring a physician. Send a team ahead to scout the road to Xiao Mountain at full speed. Another elite guard unit will accompany the lady and ensure her safety. Take the small paths and avoid attention.”

Her words were calm and resolute. The journey began that very night. The rugged paths were treacherous, and Yi Jiao Jiao, pregnant, endured the pain in silence, gripping Hong Guo’er’s hand tightly. In a soft voice, she instructed, “If I cannot make it through this journey, you must go in my place…”

Her words faltered, and she closed her trembling hands over her belly. Tears welled in her eyes, though they did not fall. “No matter what… whether alive or dead… I must find him…”

A journey that should have taken six or seven days was completed in five. How she endured it was anyone’s guess. 

The child in her womb, as if understanding her determination, stayed unusually quiet. Yi Jiao Jiao did not allow herself the luxury of rest, not even for a moment, as they reached the base of Xiao Mountain.

Hong Guo’er, who had weathered countless storms alongside her mistress, couldn’t bear to see her in such a state. She urged her to stop and recover, but Yi Jiao Jiao’s pale, exhausted face remained resolute. Her mind was made up—she would find Tan Ci.

Amid their disagreement at a roadside station near the Xiao Mountain pass, the sound of hooves thundered from a distance, a cloud of dust rising on the horizon. Her bloodshot eyes remained fixed ahead as she argued her case, refusing to yield.

But suddenly, warmth enveloped her frail body from behind. She was pulled into a tight embrace—familiar, steady, and desperately missed.

The swirling yellow dust clouded her clear peach blossom eyes, blurring the world around her. The man behind her, cloaked in black, held her tightly, his trembling hands betraying his restraint as he carefully controlled his strength.

She widened her eyes, looking as if she had been running tirelessly, and now, having finally reached the end, all strength left her body. Her breaths became slow and icy, almost feeble.

He bent over, resting his chin on the curve of her neck. His voice, weary but suffused with relief and joy, gently murmured her name, as if speaking it brought her back to him from the brink of oblivion.

“Jiao Jiao…”

That single utterance broke something within her. She reached out and grasped his hand tightly, her grip unyielding, as if letting go would send her spiraling into an abyss. Tears she could no longer hold back fell freely, darkening the yellow earth into smudges of ink-stained brown.

Clenching his jaw, he slowly turned her frail body toward him. The sight of her pale, haggard face nearly undid him.

The Zhe Ling Sword remained at his side, a weapon that made the world tremble and his name feared across the martial realm. Yet at this moment, as he looked at her, his beloved, his heart cracked open, and tears welled in his fierce eyes.

This was the same woman who would complain of discomfort at the slightest jostling during any journey. A delicate flower pampered for years, she had endured the merciless torment of long travel not once, but twice in her life.

The first time, to marry him.

The second is to save him.

He reached out, intending to smooth the disheveled strands of hair from her forehead, but his hand shook too much to manage. Her face grew even paler, her lips drained of all color. She could no longer muster the strength to smile at him, barely able to hold onto his hand.

She doubled over slightly, her breath faltering. In a voice so faint it seemed ready to be swept away by the wind, she murmured, “Tan Ci… I think… I can’t hold on any longer…”

Her cloak beneath her was soaked in blood, a sight so shocking it seemed to burn into one’s eyes. Tan Ci was on the verge of losing his sanity as he frantically called for the attendants and doctor, scooping her up into his arms and rushing into the relay station.

The woman in his arms could barely keep her eyes open. Beads of sweat began to form on her pale forehead, yet her trembling hand clung tightly to his robe, unwilling to let go. 

Tan Ci’s voice trembled as he spoke, filled with self-reproach and anguish, “Your health has always been frail. You’re so close to giving birth; you should have been home resting and preparing… It’s all my fault… It’s all my fault…”

Lying on the bed, she still refused to release his hand. Tears streamed down her face, tracing sorrowful trails as she shook her head weakly. Her voice, fragile yet resolute, broke his heart. “Home… Home is wherever you are. Without you, neither the child nor I can find peace…”

He understood her fears. Kneeling beside her, Tan Ci didn’t take even a step away. He held her hand against his cheek, his bloodshot eyes fixed on hers as if willing his strength into her. “Jiao Jiao, don’t be afraid. I’m right here with you. No one can take me away from you and our child.”

Six years ago, Yi Jiao Jiao endured a harrowing experience on the Xiao Shan Road, narrowly escaping death to give birth to their son, whom they named Tan Jing Zhu. 

Due to her fragile health after delivery, Tan Ci mobilized all of the resources of Biling Manor to construct a temporary estate at the foot of Xiaoshan. The couple remained there, staying by their son’s side for one hundred days before returning home.

The tale of Yi Jiao Jiao, pregnant with their child, risking her life for the Tan Ci, spread like wildfire throughout the martial world. It was said she valued her husband’s safety above her own life, willing to cast everything aside.

From then on, the entire Jianghu was filled with awe and admiration. No one doubted the truth of what Tan Ci had said during their first meeting in Jiang Cheng years ago—“A wife should be like this.”

However, just a year after the renowned Yi Shui Sword Duel, Tan Ci of Biling Manor took a new bride, Lady Yang.