Chapter 19: Spiritual Roots

Flower Calyx Pavilion.

After washing up and changing into a resplendent scarlet phoenix robe, Qin Yuyao sat nervously on the edge of her bed, clutching a handkerchief in her tense fingers, her gaze fixed anxiously upon the doorway.

Today felt utterly unreal, as if she were adrift in a dream.

A month ago, her father had brought her to the imperial palace, where she and several other children were presented to a fabled “Immortal Cultivator.” After a series of examinations, it was revealed that she and three others possessed what so many aspired to: spiritual roots.

While she was still soaring on the hope that she might ascend the path of cultivation, she learned the cruel truth from the one called Master Yunhe: her spiritual roots were faint and inferior, mere “false roots,” unworthy of Long River Sect’s standards.

As if that were not enough, though young among mortals, she was already considered old in the eyes of cultivators. After careful deliberation, Master Yunhe abandoned her and departed the capital with the others for the sect, leaving her behind in full view of the court—a humiliation she still remembered with burning clarity.

From that day, she swore in secret that she would make Long River Sect and Master Yunhe regret their scorn.

Alas, she was but a mortal girl—how could she ever hope to compete with Master Yunhe and the mighty sect behind him?

Just then, news swept through the palace: His Majesty would hold a consort selection. If she could enter the palace as a consort, perhaps even win the emperor’s favor and the title of empress or a high-ranking concubine, she might gain the emperor’s aid—perhaps he would spare no effort in searching the country for cultivators to serve, or in gathering cultivation techniques for her. Then, perhaps, she could yet embark upon the immortal path.

This, she realized, was her only road forward.

So, after but the briefest hesitation, she resolutely joined the selection.

With her beauty, bearing, learning, and family background, Qin Yuyao breezed through the examinations and was chosen as a candidate.

Yet never did she imagine that it would not be the emperor himself who chose her in the end, but rather—the Retired Emperor.

And so, quite inexplicably, she became a beauty of the Retired Emperor.

To be fair, the Retired Emperor had once been a formidable figure, conquering the realm in his sixtieth year and founding the Yu Kingdom. Yet no matter how glorious his past, the present reality could not be denied: he had abdicated in favor of his son, the Second Prince, Zheng Yuansen. The difference in power between them was vast.

As a beauty of the Retired Emperor, how could she hope to embark upon the path of cultivation, to prove herself to Long River Sect and Master Yunhe?

This thought left her at a loss. Was she fated to spend her youth serving an old man, wasting all her years away in Xingqing Palace?

While she was lost in such thoughts, the door creaked open.

Zheng Yi entered, his figure slowly crossing the threshold.

Seeing the slender, youthful silhouette by the window, Zheng Yi let out a long breath. This girl was tied to his greatest secret—he could not afford the slightest carelessness.

“My beauty…”

He lifted the gauzy veil and approached Qin Yuyao, taking her delicate, pale hand in his own.

Qin Yuyao’s hand trembled violently, and she let out a silent sigh.

Though her father was a close minister to the emperor, His Majesty was renowned for his filial piety—he would never defy the Retired Emperor for her sake. That no one had come to see her all day proved as much.

From this day forth, was she doomed to submit to the Retired Emperor, to eke out her days in Xingqing Palace?

A faint despair rose in her heart.

She raised her head, revealing a breathtakingly beautiful face, and realized to her surprise that the Retired Emperor did not appear as old as the rumors claimed. He seemed, at most, in his early forties, with a refined, gentle air.

“Retired Emperor…”

Zheng Yi lifted her chin. Qin Yuyao, understanding her place, obediently gazed up at him, only to avert her eyes in sudden embarrassment, her cheeks flushed scarlet.

A line from an ancient poem drifted through her mind: “Spring cold bestows a bath at Huaqing Pool, the warm water smooth as silk upon creamy skin.”

He had never truly grasped the meaning of those words—until now. After more than half an hour, he finally understood the pleasures of an emperor.

This girl was indeed a rare treasure.

More than that—when Qin Yuyao slipped into drowsiness and Zheng Yi drifted into his meditative state, the Red Dust Beauties Register within his sea of consciousness began to change.

Rich red dust energy surged forth, enveloping the entire register in a misty haze, as if shrouded in an immortal realm. The scroll unfurled, and a portrait of Qin Yuyao, exquisite beyond compare, slowly emerged.

Most curious of all, her image was even clearer and more striking than those of Xiao Ruxue or Chan’er before her.

A maiden like an immortal, clad in a phoenix robe as vivid as blood, blazing like fire, arresting the eye. The golden-threaded phoenix patterns on her robe seemed poised to take flight, resplendent and lifelike, radiating nobility.

Her face was like a lotus, her brows distant mountains, her eyes limpid and soulful—like autumn waters under the moon—tinged with the shyness of newly bestowed favor, her cheeks rosy and charming. Her lips, unadorned, were like cherries, exuding a faint orchid fragrance when parted. Her hair, black as ink, was coiled high, adorned with gold and jade ornaments that added a touch of regal grace.

The phoenix robe draped low, revealing white arms and a snowy neck, graceful and alluring. The entire portrait seemed to capture the very moment this peerless maiden was graced by imperial favor—one could almost hear her bracelets chime, see her lotus steps, her beauty captivating the heart.

Zheng Yi stared in amazement; he had not expected that, once Qin Yuyao was recorded in the Red Dust Beauties Register, she would appear so enticing.

Yet he quickly regained his composure—or rather, his attention was drawn to the lines of text suddenly appearing beside her portrait.

[Absorbed pure yin energy, condensed one wisp of red dust energy.]
[Absorbed pure yin energy, metal spiritual root +1.]
[Absorbed pure yin energy, wood spiritual root +1.]
[Absorbed pure yin energy, water spiritual root +1.]
[Absorbed pure yin energy, fire spiritual root +1.]
[Absorbed pure yin energy, earth spiritual root +1.]

Spiritual roots!

It was as he expected.

Red Dust Beauties Register could indeed extract spiritual roots from women.

So long as he continued to share pleasure with Qin Yuyao, not only could he gain red dust energy, he could also acquire spiritual roots.

Truly—the heavens never seal every path to survival!

With a thought, more lines of text appeared beside Qin Yuyao’s portrait:

[Fate Artifact: Red Dust Beauties Register]
[Fated Master: Zheng Yi]
[Lifespan: 60/130 (+)]
[Spiritual Roots: Metal—Ninth Grade (1/10); Wood—Ninth Grade (1/10); Water—Ninth Grade (1/10); Fire—Ninth Grade (1/10); Earth—Ninth Grade (1/10)]
[Red Dust Energy: 89]
[Martial Strength: Blood Refining]
[Techniques: Purple Haze Skill (Great Accomplishment), Hundred Battles Blade Technique (Great Accomplishment), Everlasting Spring Longevity Art (Transcendent)]

His precise attributes appeared before his eyes.

Since his last cultivation of the Everlasting Spring Longevity Art, the red dust energy had not been spent, and now totaled eighty-one points.

As for the spiritual roots, they now showed specific numbers—metal, wood, water, fire, earth.

He recalled what the two sect retainers had told him: five-element spiritual roots were the worst possible combination—so-called “false roots.” Yet, however inferior, he now possessed spiritual roots at last.

“Ninth grade, is it…” Zheng Yi murmured. “Five-element ninth grade, the lowest of the low.”

“But as long as I persist in sharing pleasure with women who possess spiritual roots, I will eventually raise my roots to the highest grade—even to perfection!”

“I wonder if, among those two hundred or so candidates today, there are any other beauties with spiritual roots…”

In the darkness, Zheng Yi’s eyes glimmered as he turned over in bed. By the flickering candlelight, he saw a tear slip from the corner of Qin Yuyao’s eye.

“My beauty, did I hurt you?”

“N-no…” Qin Yuyao quickly wiped her tears and whispered, “I… I was thinking of my mother.”

Zheng Yi gathered her into his arms, his tone gentle. “No matter what, you are now my beauty. I will never fail you. Tomorrow, I shall summon your parents to Xingqing Palace for a reunion, so your heart may be at peace.”

“Thank you, Retired Emperor…”

“Ah… Retired Emperor, please… don’t…”