I Was Forced to Marry a “Trash” Cultivator, But She Turned Out to Be a Reborn Empress!

Chapter 228: Turning the Tide, Arriving at the Sacred Land

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. The caravan members stood frozen, their minds struggling to reconcile the massacre they had just witnessed with the unassuming man standing before them.

Xu Tian was the first to snap out of it. He took a deep, shuddering breath and strode forward, stopping exactly three zhang away—a distance of respectful submission. He bowed deeply, his forehead nearly touching his knees.

“Junior Xu Tian, on behalf of everyone, thanks Senior for the life-saving grace!”

His voice wavered, thick with a cocktail of terror and relief. He broke into a cold sweat just thinking about it. Thank the heavens I didn’t offend him earlier. If I had, I wouldn’t even know how I died.

It all made sense now. No wonder these two dared to roam freely in this wilderness. They weren’t reckless; they were predators disguised as prey.

Seeing their leader bow, the guards dropped to their knees in a ripple of thuds.

“Thank you, Senior, for the life-saving grace!” they shouted in unison.

They kept their heads low, eyes fixed on the dirt, wishing they could find a crack in the ground to crawl into. They remembered their secret mockery, how they had laughed at him for bringing a “useless” female cultivator along. Now, the shame burned hotter than the mosquito venom.

Su Ling’er stood apart. She didn’t kneel.

Her face was flushed a brilliant red, her fingers twisting the hem of her robe into knots. She wanted to step forward, but hesitation anchored her feet. This benefactor looked so young… calling him “Senior” felt bizarre.

Shen Xian swept a careless glance over the prostrate crowd. “No need for such formalities.”

“We were blind to Senior’s esteemed presence earlier,” Xu Tian said cautiously, refusing to rise. “Please forgive our negligence…”

When traveling the dangerous lands, humility was a survival trait. Even though his merchant association had the backing of Soul Formation Venerables, right now, in the middle of nowhere, a Nascent Soul True Lord was a god. especially one who had just pulled them from the jaws of death.

Shen Xian waved a hand, cutting him off. “I was merely traveling the same path. You need not be constrained.”

His tone was flat, almost bored. Yet, to Xu Tian and the others, it made them feel as if needles were pricking their backs. The more casual an expert acted, the more terrifying they were. Unpredictability was the hallmark of the powerful.

Qiu Ruoli watched coldly from the side, an internal sneer curling her lip.

Their reverence is sincere enough, she thought. But if they knew the truth… if they knew the ‘Senior’ before them was a thousand times more dangerous than that Mosquito Emperor, they’d be begging for a quick death.

Su Ling’er finally mustered her courage. She took small, tentative steps forward and bowed.

“Wang… Senior Wang, thank you for saving us.” She lifted her head, her eyes sparkling with unfiltered curiosity. “That sword strike… it was incredible! The transition between Ice, Fire, and Lightning was so natural. I’ve never seen a sword capable of holding three opposing elements. Did you embed a micro-formation inside the blade?”

A flicker of surprise passed through Shen Xian’s eyes.

Sharp kid.

He gave a slight, acknowledging nod.

The dynamic of the journey shifted drastically.

The guards no longer made casual conversation with Shen Xian. They didn’t avoid him, but a wall of deferential distance had gone up. Whenever Shen Xian passed, work stopped. Heads bowed. Eyes filled with a heavy, sincere gratitude.

Xu Tian became the model of a dutiful junior. Every morning, he personally delivered the merchant association’s finest Spirit Tea, using the opportunity to make polite small talk and ask for pointers on cultivation.

This was a problem for Shen Xian. He didn’t cultivate. His power rose automatically through the system. What “insights” could he possibly offer?

So, he outsourced it. He delegated the “teaching” to Qiu Ruoli while he sat back, sipped his tea, and enjoyed the ride.

Qiu Ruoli played the part, but her internal monologue was scathing. If these sheep knew a Demoness was lecturing them on the Dao, they’d vomit blood. And him… a Demon Cultivator who doesn’t practice evil arts, doesn’t cultivate, and acts like a bored noble. What kind of monster is he?

Three days later, the horizon ignited.

“Look!” Su Ling’er pointed, her voice jumping an octave. “That’s the protective light curtain of the Dao Xuan Sacred Land!”

Relief washed over the caravan like a cool breeze. Shoulders slumped, tension drained, and smiles broke out. But as they approached, their pace naturally slowed, their eyes drifting to the white-robed figure who had led them here.

Shen Xian narrowed his eyes, taking in the view.

It was magnificent.

A colossal curtain of gold severed the heavens from the earth, looking like a dividing line drawn by the giant brush of a celestial being.

The barrier wasn’t static. It flowed like liquid gold, rippling with spiritual energy. Occasionally, seven-colored radiance would wash across the surface, revealing glimpses of profound, ancient runes.

Near the ground, the curtain became semi-transparent. Through the haze, one could see the silhouette of immortal mountains and swirling mists. The contrast was violent—outside, the desolate, wind-scoured wasteland; inside, a paradise where Spiritual Qi transformed into rain.

Twelve towering jade pillars stood sentinel before the barrier. Suspended atop each pillar was an Ancient Bronze Mirror. Beams of light shot from the mirrors, intersecting on the barrier to form two massive, archaic characters: DAO XUAN.

The characters radiated a suffocating Pressure, a silent warning to any who dared approach with ill intent.

Nestled in the center of the pillars was a three-story pavilion. It glowed with the light of active formations. The aura emanating from it was heavy, vast, and terrifying. Even Shen Xian, with his Nascent Soul cultivation, felt a primal thrum of danger in his chest.

“Senior Wang,” Xu Tian said, leading the way with the ease of someone familiar with the route. “First-time entrants must register. We will wait here for you.”

Shen Xian nodded and signaled for Qiu Ruoli to follow.

They stepped into the pavilion. The first floor was stark and silent, the walls etched with complex array patterns that seemed to watch them.

Behind a heavy wooden desk sat a gray-robed old man. He didn’t look up. He simply tossed two blank jade slips onto the table.

“Name. Origin. Cultivation.”

His voice was dry, like the rubbing of withered wood.

Shen Xian tapped the slip. Spiritual light etched his false identity into the jade: Wang Yu, Rogue Cultivator, Early Nascent Soul Realm.

Qiu Ruoli did the same: Qiu Ruoli, Rogue Cultivator, Golden Core Perfection.

The old man scanned the slips. His head snapped up. Turbid, cloudy eyes suddenly cleared, revealing a flash of sharp light that seemed to pierce right through Shen Xian’s skin.

“Nascent Soul?”

The old man’s withered finger pressed down on a rune carved into the desk.

Hum.

The entire pavilion resonated. The formations on the walls flared to life, and countless golden threads shot out from the void, converging on Shen Xian and Qiu Ruoli like a swarm of seeking vipers.

Shen Xian’s eyes flickered, but he didn’t move. He let the golden threads wrap around his wrists, his pulse steady.

Qiu Ruoli’s face went pale. Her instinct screamed at her to fight, to circulate her Qi and repel the intrusion, but the suppression was absolute. She was a statue.

The threads pulsed, tasting their energy. Searching for the tainted signature of the Demon Race.

Seconds ticked by.

Finally, the threads retracted. The old man grunted, satisfied that they were human and—ostensibly—clean of demonic corruption. He tossed two tokens across the desk.

“Enter.”

Shen Xian caught the tokens. “Many thanks.”

He walked out, calm as a millpond, rejoining Xu Tian to cross the threshold.

The moment they stepped through the golden curtain, the world changed.

Shen Xian felt every pore on his body open, sighing in relief. The scene before him suddenly opened up—the sky was a piercing, flawless blue, washed clean of the wasteland’s dust.

In the distance, waterfalls cascaded down thousand-zhang peaks, but the water never hit the bottom. Halfway down, the droplets shattered into pure mist, dissolving back into the atmosphere.

The air was sweet, carrying a refreshing, heart-soothing fragrance. Every breath was like drinking a draft of high-grade elixir. Compared to the thin, gritty energy of the Southern Region, the Spiritual Qi here was dense enough to chew.

Dewdrops on the roadside grass sparkled with inner light—Spirit Grass, growing like weeds.

But what truly struck Shen Xian was the stability of the world itself. The spatial laws here were robust, the walls of reality reinforced. He cycled his energy experimentally and found that even a basic fireball technique resonated with a hidden Dao charm, amplifying its power twofold.

“Truly worthy of a minor world opened by an Immortal Venerable,” Shen Xian praised silently.

Far above, in the sea of clouds, floating islands drifted like lazy leviathans. Pavilions and jade towers studded their surfaces, glowing with the opulence of major powers. A rainbow bridge woven from solid light spanned the sky, and tiny figures could be seen sword-riding along its arc, their robes fluttering like celestial beings.

Qiu Ruoli held her breath. The Tianyao Sect’s “Sacred Land” back home looked like a muddy ditch compared to this.

The Dao Xuan Sacred Land was a world unto itself. The deeper one went, the purer the Qi.

Their destination, Azure Nether City, lay in the outer ring. Even so, it only took two days of travel before the majestic silhouette of the giant city rose to meet them.