RA-50

Record of the Enchanting Mother and Beautiful Wife (The World's Number One Beautiful Mother Sword Immortal) Chapter 50 

Steam rose from the dishes on the table, filling the air with a tempting aroma. Mother sat beside me, dressed in a light purple long dress, the hem gently draping down like a blooming violet. She tilted her head slightly, her eyes curving into crescents, lips curled in a gentle yet slightly mischievous smile as she watched me pick up a piece of pork rib. 

Her tone was soft, with a hint of anticipation: "Son, how does it taste? I haven’t lost my touch, have I?" 

I looked down at the golden rib, the sauce evenly coating the surface, emitting a rich, spicy fragrance. Carefully, I brought it to my mouth, biting down gently. The meat was tender, juicy, melted in my mouth, with a hint of sweetness and a faint salty aroma. The familiar taste instantly surged up, like a warm current washing over my taste buds. I chewed slowly, and images from Earth surfaced in my mind Mother busy in the kitchen, the sound of spatulas clashing with the fragrance of food, the taste of home. 

Mother watched me eat with focus, a trace of satisfaction flashing in her eyes. Her fingers lightly tapped the table edge, unconsciously drumming as if waiting for my verdict. The aroma of the ribs lingered in my mouth, and I couldn’t help but smack my lips, swallowing with a soft gulp. 

"Mm, mm, mm, delicious. Mom, your ribs are still as good as ever! I’ll never get tired of this taste." 

That night, Mother had promised to make me ribs, but there were no ingredients on the mountain, and in this world, pork was extremely rare. After I nagged for days, Senior Brother finally bought half a pig in town, and I at last got to eat them. For the next few days, there were always ribs at my table, each time specially cooked by Mother just for me. The meals made by my two senior brothers weren’t bad, but in my heart, how could they compare to Mother’s cooking? 

I picked up my chopsticks and stuffed another piece into my mouth, happiness flooding over me like a tide, almost drowning me. 

Mother, hearing my words, flashed a proud look, gently patting my shoulder: "Hehe, then eat slowly." 

She suddenly leaned down, her soft lips pecking my cheek, the warm touch like a feather falling on my heart, making it skip a beat. I turned my head to her, pouting my lips, still shiny with oil: "Mom, kiss me here too." 

Mother straightened up, rolled her big eyes at me, then slipped on her delicate heels and walked out, the heels clicking crisply on the floor, making my heart itch. I stared at her departing figure, ripples stirring in my heart. In this other world, to still have Mother’s company felt like a gift from the heavens. 

Only after Mother disappeared outside did I pull back my gaze, grinning foolishly as I looked at the few ribs left on the table, then buried my head in the food again, chopsticks flying. In no time, the plate was empty. I licked my lips, still unsatisfied, then grabbed a napkin to wipe the grease from my mouth, patted my slightly bulging belly, stood up, and stretched, my joints cracking softly. 

Full and content, I strode toward the training ground. Sunlight shone on the smooth bluestone path, the faint luster warming my cheeks. I squinted, savoring the peace of the moment. 

The sounds of clamor from the training ground drifted over, stirring my blood. At that moment, Wang Zheng and my two senior brothers were sparring fiercely, the thud of blows mingling with heavy breathing and low grunts. I stood at the edge, arms crossed, eyes scanning the figures in the arena. Their movements were swift and powerful, white steam rising from their bodies, the air thick with heat. 

For some reason, Wang Zheng seemed even stronger. He stood in the center, shirtless, sweat tracing the lines of his muscles. Once about the same height as Senior Brothers Qingzhu and Qingshan, he now stood half a head taller, holding his own against both. Senior Brother Qingzhu flashed forward, fist wrapped in wind, smashing toward him. Wang Zheng spun, sweeping his right arm to block, a muffled "bang" sounding. 

Second Senior Brother Qingshan seized the chance to attack from the side, fists flying in rapid succession. Wang Zheng took a deep breath, chest swelling, and slapped back, forcing Qingshan to retreat. 

Watching him, I wondered: Why had Wang Zheng’s strength surged? Was it his growing combat experience, his killing moves honed in battle? Or did the Longevity Technique have a special effect on barbarian blood, making him even stronger? Or was it because of Mother’s Beast Desire Art? My senior brothers’ physiques had also improved, seemingly for the same reason. 

The fight in the arena grew more intense, the "bang bang" of blows never ceasing. I rubbed my temples, gave up guessing, and focused on the match. 

Senior Brother Qingzhu used the Azure Sword Manual’s "Azure Rainbow" footwork, his figure a blue blur, instantly circling behind Wang Zheng and punching hard at his back. Wang Zheng, as if he had eyes in the back of his head, spun and swept his arm, meeting Qingzhu’s fist head-on, the impact making both step back, the ground trembling. 

Second Senior Brother Qingshan let out a low roar, toes digging in, his body shooting forward like an arrow, fists blurring as they struck at Wang Zheng’s ribs. Wang Zheng calmly took a deep breath, true energy surging, muscles swelling, taking the blow head-on before slapping back, his palm wind sharp as a blade, forcing Qingshan to withdraw. 

The three exchanged blows, their moves fierce and momentum unstoppable, ending in a draw, each standing in place, panting. 

"Young Master Lin." 

Wang Zheng greeted me first, cupping his hands respectfully, a hint of eagerness in his tone. Senior Brother Qingzhu grinned, waving a big hand: "Little Junior Brother!" Second Senior Brother Qingshan nodded, sweat dripping from his brow. 

I smiled and nodded, my gaze sweeping over the three. Wang Zheng approached, stopping before me, his eyes flashing with expectation and unease, his voice slightly hurried: "Young Master Lin… by the days, my master should have arrived. I want…" He paused, lips moving as if weighing his words. 

I looked at him calmly, quickly weighing the pros and cons. Wang Zheng’s master and those aged barbarians I knew little about them. There might be risk, but if I didn’t go, how could I seize the initiative? 

"I’ll go down the mountain with you." I cut him off. 

Wang Zheng was briefly stunned, but quickly recovered. For me now, caution was best. Going with Wang Zheng meant I could keep an eye on him and check out the barbarians myself. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him, but unknown risks made me wary. 

I took a deep breath, turned to the training ground entrance, and tapped my sword hilt, making a faint "ding ding" sound. In my mind, I sent a message to Mother: "Mom, I’m going down the mountain soon. Is there anything you want me to buy?" 

Mother’s reply came quickly, tinged with excitement: "I’ll go too… the clothes should be ready." 

I wanted to refuse, as the purpose of this trip was unclear and bringing Mother might not be wise. But on second thought, she was about to marry Old Hao, and if the clothes didn’t fit, they’d need adjusting. "Then let’s go." 

Mother happily agreed, and I could imagine her smiling eyes at that moment. 

Wang Zheng looked at me, testing: "Shall we go now?" 

I nodded, flicking my sword sheath, making a crisp sound. "Let’s go." 

The mountain path was winding and rough, the wind bringing a hint of chill. Mother and I walked in front, Wang Zheng following behind. Mother was all smiles, her eyes squinting, lips curled in a faint smile, glancing back at Wang Zheng now and then with a flirtatious air, as if I were invisible. She hummed a little tune, footsteps light, heels clicking. Wang Zheng kept his head down, but couldn’t help sneaking glances at Mother, a flash of heat in his eyes quickly suppressed, his fists clenched, knuckles white, clearly restraining himself. 

With me present, he did nothing out of line, just followed quietly. I was used to Mother’s behavior; thinking of that night’s scene, a thrill quietly rose inside me, like a spark lighting a flame, making my heart race. I shook my head, forcing myself to focus on the road ahead, quickening my pace. 

Arriving at the village below, Old Hao’s courtyard came into view, the wooden gate half open. Inside, Daoist Qingxuan and Lingxi stood under a tree talking. Lingxi saw me, her eyes brightened, and she ran over, skirt lifted, calling sweetly: "Husband~~" She threw herself into my arms, slender arms wrapping around my waist, cheek pressed to my chest, her soft hair brushing my chin, carrying a faint fragrance. 

I lowered my head, nose close to her hair, inhaling the scent, and whispered in her ear: 

"Little slut, what are you up to?" 

"Princess." 

Wang Zheng stood by, bowing respectfully. I wasn’t sure if he called her "little slut" or if Wang Zheng’s "Princess" made her blush, but she pinched my waist, then turned and pouted: 

"Wang gege, why do you still call me princess?" 

Wang Zheng’s lips moved, but he said nothing, just lowered his head, a complicated look in his eyes. 

"Uncle Qingxuan." I greeted Daoist Qingxuan as he came over. 

He waved his hand, smiling kindly: "Hey~ we’re all family, no need to be so formal." 

Just then, Mother, like a little girl, threw herself at Old Hao as he came out of the house, hugging his neck and asking sweetly: 

"Husband~ did you miss me?" 

Old Hao, flustered by her sudden affection, blushed, eyes darting around as he stammered: 

"I… I did." 

Lingxi clung to my arm, giggling behind her hand, her eyes curving like crescent moons. 

"We’re going down to town for some errands," I said to everyone, my tone calm. 

Lingxi looked up at me, her voice soft: 

"Husband~ I want to go too." 

Her warm breath brushed my ear, making my heart tingle. 

"Perfect, I should leave too," Daoist Qingxuan suddenly said. 

I quickly tried to keep him: "Uncle Qingxuan, why not stay a few more days?" 

He shook his head, a flash of resolve in his eyes: "I’ve been here long enough. I’m going north. I hear there’s turmoil among the demons there, the people are suffering. As a cultivator, I must do my part." 

His voice was low but firm, making my heart tremble. In this world, I’d never considered saving the world my duty, and felt a twinge of guilt. But then again, what did it have to do with me? I only wanted my loved ones safe and happy. 

With that thought, my gaze steadied and I said nothing more, just smiled quietly at him. 

Old Hao’s gaze never left Mother, his eyes full of tenderness, as if glued to her, oblivious to everything else. Mother held his hand, smiling with curved eyes, the two whispering to each other, lost in their own world. 

Qingxuan, seeing no one answer, looked a bit embarrassed, coughed, and waved his hand: "Forget it, forget it." 

"Husband, let’s go see how the clothes turned out," Mother said, pulling Old Hao’s arm as they walked out. Old Hao smiled dotingly: "Okay." 

The mountain road wound on, the group chatting easily. Soon, the town’s outline appeared, the streets bustling, vendors hawking their wares. Mother, unable to wait, dragged Old Hao straight to the tailor’s. Daoist Qingxuan parted ways to the north, while Wang Zheng, Lingxi, and I continued on. The signboard of the Qingfeng Inn swung in the wind, and I paused, eyes lingering on the sign, a memory stirring. 

The Qingfeng Inn was the place Mother and I had visited last time in town, also where Lingxi and Wang Zheng… 

Wang Zheng led the way, Lingxi and I following upstairs. Pushing open the door, dim light filled the room. Around a wooden table sat seven or eight old men, their bodies thin and hunched, looking like ordinary elders. Their faces were wrinkled, hair white, but their eyes were sharp as eagles, radiating authority. 

So these were the aged barbarian soldiers? Compared to Wang Zheng’s burly frame, it was hard to imagine they’d once been battlefield warriors. 

Lingxi stood behind me, peeking out curiously. 

I turned to Wang Zheng, who quickly stepped forward, eyes shining with excitement. 

"Master." 

Wang Zheng knelt on one knee, voice full of respect. Head bowed, fists clasped, his shoulders trembled with emotion. 

The leading old man’s gaze was gentle as he nodded, stretching out a withered hand to signal him up. 

Lingxi peeked out from behind me, her big eyes blinking with nervous curiosity. 

"Xiao Zheng, you asked us here what’s the matter?" the old man asked, his voice hoarse but dignified. He glanced at me, then at Lingxi, a flicker of doubt in his eyes. 

"Master…" Wang Zheng began, but the old man waved him silent. 

His gaze locked on Lingxi, tone probing: "Princess…?" 

He squinted, studying her face as if searching for a familiar shadow. 

"I… I’m not a princess." Lingxi hurriedly waved her hands, flustered. 

"No… I can’t be mistaken, you are Princess Lingxi." The old man’s tone was firm, his eyes shining with excitement. The others turned to look at Lingxi, surprise and emotion in their eyes, as if confirming something. 

The old man rose, kneeling on one knee, bowing deeply: "Greetings, Your Highness." 

He moved slowly but resolutely, his knee hitting the floor with a soft "thump," radiating solemnity. The other elders followed suit, kneeling in unison, heads bowed: "Greetings, Your Highness." 

I was startled. If I remembered right, this old man was once the commander of the capital’s barbarian soldiers, a figure of great status. Such a salute to a princess seemed excessive. 

"Please… please rise… I’m not a princess anymore…" Lingxi stammered, panic in her voice, eyes brimming with tears. 

"Heaven is merciful… madam… to let us see your child in our lifetime." The old man’s voice trembled, eyes glistening with tears, years of suppressed emotion pouring out. The others echoed him, their voices full of feeling. 

Madam? Lingxi’s mother? 

I recalled Lingxi had occasionally mentioned her background. Her mother was once a palace physician, kind and gentle, beloved by the barbarian soldiers for her healing. Later, the emperor took her as a concubine, and Lingxi was born. But fate was cruel; her mother died young, and Lingxi, left uncared for, was sent to the Longevity Sect by the emperor. She’d never told me the full story no doubt it was a painful scar. 

I looked at Lingxi; she hung her head, shoulders trembling, stirring my pity. 

Wang Zheng quickly tried to redirect the conversation, pulling a cloth bag from his robe and handing it to the old man: 

"Master, these are Longevity Pills. I wonder if they’ll help with your declining vitality." 

The old man took the bag, surprise flashing in his eyes: 

"Longevity Pills? The treasure of the Longevity Sect?" 

His voice rose, as if he’d heard something unbelievable. 

"Yes," Wang Zheng nodded calmly. 

"I heard the pills have appeared on the black market lately," the old man said, a hint of hope in his eyes. 

"That’s where I got these. Try them, see if they work," Wang Zheng urged, handing over the bag. 

"Alright." The old man nodded, taking out a pill and swallowing it. The others followed suit. 

They sat cross-legged, closed their eyes, hands on knees, and began to regulate their breathing. The room fell silent, broken only by heavy breathing. 

Suddenly, the pounding of hearts grew louder, like long-idle engines roaring to life, the noise deafening. White steam rose from their bodies, muscles rippling, bones cracking audibly. 

Their faces twisted in pain, brows furrowed, mouths twitching, then relaxed with smiles. Then came the sound of clothes tearing as their bodies changed before our eyes. Once withered and frail, their bodies swelled, muscles bulging, frames lengthening, skin tightening, as if time had reversed and old age vanished. 

Moments later, they all stood over two meters tall, muscles knotted, eyes fierce. Wang Zheng’s face shone with excitement, glancing at me with gratitude. 

They flexed, joints popping like dry wood in spring, vitality renewed. 

"Hahaha!" 

The lead old man laughed heartily, his voice booming, shaking dust from the ceiling. The others joined in, laughing loudly. 

"We’re restored, restored!" the old man shouted, eyes shining with tears, pounding his chest with a deep "thump," face glowing with excitement. 

The once shriveled old men were now mighty warriors again, their eyes colder and more dangerous than ever, their presence intimidating. 

I looked at Wang Zheng, my tone calm: 

"Let’s go." 

Wang Zheng nodded, taking out the remaining pills and handing them to the old man: 

"Master, here’s what’s left. Keep them for next time. I’ll be going now." 

"Wait…" the old man said suddenly, turning to me, his tone puzzled: "And this is…?" 

The others eyed me curiously. 

Wang Zheng didn’t answer, looking at me instead. 

I cupped my hands and declared: "Azure Sword Sect, Lin Lu." 

The old man’s eyes flashed with understanding: "Oh… Azure Sword Sect… Lin… Lin Sword Immortal? Are you related?" 

Before I could answer, one of the barbarians chimed in: 

"Old man, the Lin Sword Immortal you’re talking about isn’t that number one beauty sword immortal, is it?" He burst out laughing, "Hahaha, I heard that woman was dancing lewdly at the Tianxiang Brothel the other day… such a slut… is she your mother, kid?" He laughed uproariously, his tone full of mockery. 

Hearing that taunt, my anger flared like fire. After eating my Longevity Pills, he dared insult my mother? 

A burst of spiritual will lashed out like lightning, striking the mocking barbarian hard. 

He screamed, his huge body crashing to the ground, blood gushing from his mouth, face twisted in pain. 

I flashed forward, appearing before him, stomping hard on his chest with a "crack" as ribs broke. 

Drawing my sword, I thrust the tip into his mouth. 

"Young Master Lin… please…" Wang Zheng pleaded, sweat beading on his forehead, rushing forward to beg, his voice anxious and helpless. 

I glared coldly at Wang Zheng, seeing his embarrassed look, his mouth opening as if to plead again, but I decided not to give him a chance. 

With a sharp push, my sword pierced through the barbarian’s mouth and out the back of his neck, blood spurting and staining the floor. 

His eyes bulged, throat gurgling, disbelief in his gaze. Then his head lolled, and he died. 

Wang Zheng’s face turned pale. He fell silent, swallowing hard. 

Lingxi ran to my side, tugging my sleeve, whispering: "Husband… let’s go." Her voice trembled, eyes full of fear, clearly frightened by the bloody scene. 

I slowly withdrew my sword, blood dripping to the floor, and swept my gaze over the others, all frozen by my aura. 

"Take care of the body." 

All I got in response were a few gulps and swallowing sounds…