NABC 214. Because I Love Her
214. Because I Love Her
A crimson desert stretched endlessly toward a horizon that shimmered beneath visible heat waves.“Ugh… you could grill an egg with the air alone here,” Sun Mei’er complained for what felt like the hundredth time that day. “Good thing I had my daughter-in-law make us these clothes, right?”
She spun in a playful pirouette, showing off her outfit—a thin teal tank top that ended at her midriff and athletic shorts that showcased her long legs.
Her pale skin had deepened into a rich tan under the relentless sun of a desert that offered no natural shelter. She didn’t mind in the slightest. In fact, she quite liked it.
Cultivators like herself didn't fear the sun the same way mortals would. The worst that could happen to their skin was getting a deep tan, but the heat was a different matter. Overheating could affect their qi circulation which would lead to many complications in their cultivation.
Having less clothes on so there was no obstruction between themselves and natural qi was a must.
For most.
Chen Ai Yun sighed. “Don’t you get tired of repeating the same thing every day?”
“No,” Sun Mei’er replied flatly. “Don’t you get hot being bundled up in those robes all the time?”
“No,” Chen Ai Yun said.
“I guess you wouldn’t,” Sun Mei’er added with a grin, “since I take them all off at night!”
Chen Ai Yun blinked. Slowly, she turned to ensure no one was nearby—then reached out, her hand forming a claw of condensed qi.
Sun Mei’er tried to flee, but she was instantly enveloped. Her neck snapped back into Chen Ai Yun’s grip despite her struggles.
Smack!
“Ahh! Don’t hit my ass, bitch!” Sun Mei’er yelped as Chen Ai Yun’s free hand connected sharply with her rear.
“I’ll hit you until you fix that filthy mouth of yours!” Chen Ai Yun snarled through clenched teeth, each slap backed by her full Adept Realm strength.
“Joke’s on you,” Sun Mei’er said, sticking out her tongue. “You know I like it.”
“No you don’t. I do—” Chen Ai Yun froze, her face draining of color.
“Ahaha! You said it!” Sun Mei’er burst into laughter, immediately choking—though that had more to do with the hand still squeezing her throat.
“Give! Give!” she wheezed, tapping frantically at Chen Ai Yun’s arm.
“Are you two playing?” a small voice asked from above.
They both looked up.
A silver-haired baby tiger girl floated overhead, lazily flapping her tiny wings as she peered down at them with open curiosity.
Chen Ai Yun released Sun Mei’er at once.
“Yes. We were playing,” she said evenly. “Where are the others?”
Yin’er pointed behind her, toward the distant clangor of battle echoing across the dunes.
Chen Ai Yun spread her senses outward and frowned when she failed to find the presence she was looking for.
“Weren’t you with Li Xue?” Sun Mei’er asked, rubbing her sore neck. “Where’d she go?”
Yin’er pointed again—this time at a nearby sand dune.
Li Xue stepped out from behind it. “Yin’er! You traitor!”
Yin’er tilted her head, genuinely puzzled. She hadn’t betrayed anyone—she’d only answered her grandmothers’ questions.
…Well. Big sisters. She was supposed to call them big sisters. That’s what Big Sister Mei’er said.
“I’m not,” Yin’er replied innocently.
Chen Ai Yun waved Li Xue over.
Li Xue hesitated, her expression twitching.
“How much did you hear?” Chen Ai Yun asked.
“Nothing!” Li Xue shook her head vigorously.
Chen Ai Yun didn’t believe her for a second.
“Really?” Sun Mei’er said, flashing an evil grin. “You didn’t hear how Ai Yun likes getting spanked?”
Li Xue’s eyes went wide. Then her face scrunched as if she’d bitten into a lemon, tears welling as she struggled to hold it in.
She failed.
“Ah—ha—haha!” she burst out, wheezing with laughter. “Momma, you’re terrible! You can’t just say that out of nowhere!”
Sun Mei’er joined in immediately. The two clutched each other’s shoulders, nearly collapsing as their laughter fed off each other.
Chen Ai Yun’s brow twitched.
She really wanted to beat them both. They were far too alike—and that was not a good thing.
She missed Jin Shu. At least with him around, she’d had someone to share her suffering. His mother and little wife had been nothing but trouble during the week they’d been stranded in this desert.
All she could do was hope she survived long enough for him to arrive and save her from her steadily mounting wrath.
With a heavy sigh, she turned and walked away, silently lamenting the karmic sin that had earned her a wife like Sun Mei’er.
When Chen Ai Yun finally vanished from sight, Sun Mei’er collapsed onto the sand with a groan, patting her chest as if trying to knead out the lingering knot of stress.
Li Xue’s eye twitched as her gaze lingered—far too long—on her mother-in-law’s ample chest.
Jealousy.
Pure, unfiltered jealousy flooded her veins at the sight.
She desperately wanted a physique-altering technique like Jin Shu’s. Without one, she’d be forced to wait until the Sage Realm, when cultivators gained absolute control over both flesh and spirit.
“We’ll have to stop now,” Sun Mei’er said, exhaling as she pushed herself upright. “Ai Yun’s actually getting angry.”
Li Xue blinked and looked up at her. “Why do you do it anyway?”
“Ai Yun carries too much in her head,” Sun Mei’er replied calmly. “She’s a workaholic and doesn’t know how to rest—even when she needs it.”
She dusted sand from her legs. “Letting her vent like this has become our… ritual. Even if she doesn’t realize it.”
Li Xue hesitated. “Couldn’t you just help her relax with… um.” She gestured vaguely. “That?”
Sun Mei’er smiled knowingly. “I do. But sometimes that alone isn’t enough. Sometimes she needs to burn off her anger first.”
Li Xue frowned. “That sounds like a lot of effort for no payoff.”
“It isn’t about payoff,” Sun Mei’er said, shaking her head as she stood. “I do it because I love her.”
She glanced at Li Xue. “You’ll understand more once you marry that boy.”
Li Xue stared. “...I’ll have to do all of that for him?”
Sun Mei’er burst out laughing. “No. Jin Shu’s easy. That boy’s simple.”
She leaned closer, smirking. “Ai Yun’s special. High maintenance.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Just do this—” Sun Mei’er leaned in and whispered into Li Xue’s ear.
Li Xue’s eyes went wide. “Is that something a mother-in-law should be telling her daughter-in-law?!”
Sun Mei’er shrugged innocently.
“What? What?” Yin’er drifted down between them, tiny wings fluttering as she looked back and forth. “What are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” Sun Mei’er said instantly. “And it’s something you never need to worry about.”
She smiled thinly. “Knowing your father, he’d probably try to fight me if I taught you.”
Yin’er nodded solemnly. “Then I don’t need to know. I don’t want Daddy and Big Sister Mei’er to fight.”
“Good girl,” Sun Mei’er said fondly, lifting Yin’er into her arms.
Cradling her, she turned toward the distant clash of battle, her smile softening as they headed back into the fray.
***
Achoo!
Jin Shu sneezed.
“Cultivators don’t have allergies—and it’s not even winter,” he muttered. “Someone’s talking behind my back. Bet it’s our mom.”
“Or one of your girlfriends missing you,” Shuang teased.
“Could be,” Jin Shu said. “But my money’s still on Mom.”
“I was joking…”
“I wasn’t.” He shrugged.
“Both of you focus,” Gold cut in. “That sneeze might’ve alerted something.”
Jin Shu blinked, then raised his rifle and scanned the treeline, sweeping left and right.
He’d been in the mountains for less than a day and had already run into half a dozen demonic beasts. Most were weak Qi Realm creatures—but one had been on the verge of the Spirit Realm and had been a bitch to take down.
An Earth Bear. Like the one Xiao Yi and Xiao Er had dissected—except this one had been an adolescent. Even so, its stone-like plating had shrugged off pistol fire, forcing Jin Shu to bring out his rifle to finally put it down.
Movement caught his eye.
Something was charging straight toward him—fast.
He conjured a scope and peered through it.
A rhino-shaped demonic beast filled the magnified view, thick vines wrapped around half its massive body.
“Uh… what was that rhino thing called again?” Jin Shu muttered, recalling an illustration from a sect library book.
“Forest Rhino,” Nano answered instantly.
“Right,” Jin Shu nodded. “Such a boring name. You’d think they could come up with something more intimidating.”
“It is a peak Spirit Realm beast,” Nano added.
“Shit…” Jin Shu sighed.
He let the rifle drop, the sling catching it against his shoulder, and turned to sprint deeper into the forest at full speed.
No chance was he fighting a peak Spirit Realm demonic beast. That was the equivalent of challenging an Adept Realm cultivator—pure suicide at his current level.
He might be able to kill it with the railgun—but he wasn’t about to gamble his life on a maybe.
Thankfully, he remembered something from the book: Forest Rhinos could only charge in a straight line.
So he cut sideways, darting perpendicular through the forest as the beast thundered past.
As he ran, Jin Shu glanced back just in time to see the rhino slam into a massive tree.
He expected the trunk to snap in half.
Instead, the rhino bounced backward—as if it had collided with a mountain.
The “tree” moved.
In a single motion, it opened a massive maw and swallowed the three-to-four-meter-tall rhino whole.
Jin Shu skidded to a stop, eyes widening.
The tree wasn’t a tree at all.
It was a colossal serpent—nearly ten meters long—its brown, bark-like scales and leaf-patterned head perfectly camouflaged.
He swallowed.
He’d been standing under that thing moments earlier.
“A Forest Python,” Nano said calmly. “First-stage Adept Realm at peak strength. Their power scales with size—ten meters is the upper limit. They typically constrict prey to death. Swallowing it whole is… unusual.”
As if on cue, the python’s body suddenly convulsed.
It thrashed, spasming violently—then reared back and spat the rhino out.
Alive.
And furious.
Jin Shu exhaled slowly.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Guess that’s why they don’t normally do that.”
He would’ve liked to stay and watch the two powerful beasts clash. Unfortunately, he was now keenly aware that any of the thousands of trees around him could be an enemy.
If another Forest Python tried to swallow him whole, he doubted he’d be lucky enough to get spat back out like the Forest Rhino.
Keeping a wide berth from any tree that looked even slightly out of place, he threaded his way through the forest toward the mountain path marked on his mother’s map.
He pulled it out to double-check his route. The terrain itself was rendered with uncanny realism—but the brightly colored line tracing the path looked like a child’s scribbles slapped over the top.
Judging by the art style, Jin Shu was fairly certain Chen Ai Yun had drawn the map itself.
After several close calls with what he suspected were Forest Pythons masquerading as trees, he finally spotted the narrow trail winding upward through the mountains.
It led to the same destination marked at the top of the map.
The True Demon Mountain.