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RA-12
🕑 Added 2025-07-27 00:40:32 +0000 UTCRecord of the Enchanting Mother and Beautiful Wife (The World's Number One Beautiful Mother Sword Immortal) Chapter 12
The gentle morning sunlight streamed into the room. Mother put on the fairy long dress she bought yesterday. Once she wore it, the tailored cut outlined her figure perfectly, and as she walked, she resembled a celestial maiden descending to earth, her aura otherworldly.
“This dress is so cleverly designed,” Mother murmured, her fingers stroking the silver-white waistband at her chest. “It’s a bit like a bra.”
The upper part of the white waistband supported her breasts, making her feel much more comfortable. I noticed that every time she breathed, the waistband would gently tighten, lifting her proud bosom even higher.
Mother tried taking a few slow steps, the skirt swaying lightly, making a barely audible sound. The skirt, made of many strips of white gauze, revealed a faint glimpse of her fair, delicate calves as she moved.
Then, Mother spun around lightly, the skirt fluttering gracefully, dozens of white ribbons dancing in the air like butterfly wings exquisitely beautiful. At this moment, only a small part of her thigh above the knee could be seen, not at all overly revealing.
“Son, how does Mom look in this?” Mother turned to ask, her eyes sparkling with playful light.
I awkwardly looked away. “Mom, the dress is beautiful. It looks very proper on you.”
“Hehe, you little rascal.”
Then, everyone went downstairs together, preparing to head to the martial arts tournament. Old Hao had left early in the morning, having come to the capital with us this time to visit family. He would meet up with us again after the tournament to return together.
To my surprise, the tournament venue was inside the imperial city. Mother, Lingxi, Daoist Qingxuan, and I headed for the city gate, passing many other cultivators on the way. Soon, we reached the outer palace. The massive city gate lay like a slumbering beast, exuding an oppressive majesty.
At the gate, two rows of guards stood as still as statues. Each was over two meters tall, clad head-to-toe in heavy armor that gleamed coldly in the sunlight. Their arms were thicker than most people’s thighs, the exposed muscles bulging with strength. Beneath their helmets, only pairs of stern eyes could be seen, staring straight ahead. As I walked past them, I could feel the tangible pressure, my steps unconsciously lightening and slowing, afraid of provoking these guardian-like sentinels.
“These guards are so strong,” Mother said in surprise, looking around. I was also shocked these men were as tall as basketball players, but not the least bit thin, exuding a strength that seemed almost inhuman. Daoist Qingxuan explained:
“These palace guards, also called imperial barbarian soldiers, were originally ordinary cultivators, but lacking talent to progress on the orthodox path, they took another route using spiritual energy to temper their bodies, and supplementing with the flesh and blood of northern demon beasts. After much training, they became what you see now: robust, as strong as oxen, pure warriors whose strength can’t be underestimated. It’s said they’re as strong as, or even stronger than, Golden Core cultivators.”1
I was stunned these were just the ordinary guards, and there were at least several hundred. Terrifying...
Daoist Qingxuan seemed to read my mind and continued:
“They may look impressive, but they pay a heavy price. This forced enhancement greatly damages their bodies, and their lives are very short barely forty years. After their peak, their bodies rapidly decline, qi and blood fail, spiritual energy backlashes, illness plagues them, and they die in pain.”1
Indeed, everything comes at a price. I unconsciously rubbed my ring and followed the group inside. In the outer palace, there was a special arena for the tournament, about half the size of a soccer field.
The arena was made of finely crafted bluestone, raised about a meter above the ground, with smoothly polished edges outlining its shape. Every stone was tightly joined, forming a solid surface. The center was perfectly flat, like a giant blue mirror.
On one side, spectator stands had been built into the terrain reserved for sect elders and royal relatives. The seats were made of precious wood, backs carved with auspicious and honorable patterns, cushions soft and comfortable, and each row’s height and spacing carefully designed for the best viewing angles.
As the Azure Sword Sect leader, Mother was naturally led to that side. Along the way, I could hear people around us praising her beauty.
Compliments rang out one after another.
“Look at that figure, so graceful. Such beauty no wonder she’s called the ‘World’s Number One Beautiful Sword Immortal.’”
In her fairy long dress, the skirt floated as she walked, sometimes revealing her white calves, like a fairy in the world. Every gesture exuded a charm that could make anyone swoon.
From her seat, Mother waved to me and sent a message: “Good luck, son. Get a good ranking and we’ll go home.”
“Why so eager to get back to the sect, missing my two senior brothers?” I teased.
“Pah, you brat, dare to tease your mother.”
As more people filled the arena, the noise rose to a buzz.
Suddenly, a figure shot onto the stage like a hawk, standing firm.
He was tall and strong, in a black robe billowing in the wind, with a resolute face and bright eyes. His voice boomed across the arena:
“Heroes, I am Zhao Xuanfeng, elder of the Longevity Sect. I will now announce the tournament rules: all sect disciples will enter the stage together for a melee until only twenty remain, then one-on-one matches will decide the final rankings!”1
The crowd burst into an uproar no one expected such a fierce and unique format.
Some disciples looked shocked, but others were eager to try. An all-out brawl was surprising, but on reflection, it made sense.
As suspected, the Longevity Sect and the court, as organizers, didn’t care which sect rose to the top ten they cared that after this, there would only be ten sects.
At Elder Zhao Xuanfeng’s command, the contestants leapt onto the stage like swallows skimming water.
Lingxi and I exchanged a glance and jumped up together.
As soon as my feet touched the stage, I quietly activated my senses to observe the other contestants. Their auras varied, but most were weak, even the strongest only at Golden Core.
I thought to myself with this level, winning would be as easy as reaching into a bag. Still, I didn’t let my guard down there could always be hidden experts or surprises.
As everyone prepared to show their skills, a figure streaked across the distance and landed on the stage.
A powerful, dominating aura spread from him, drawing everyone’s attention.
I looked closely and was startled it was Ye Wuhen.
Lingxi beside me trembled in fright, hiding behind me and clutching my sleeve for safety. Was Ye Wuhen representing the Longevity Sect?
I was shocked I knew how strong Ye Wuhen was. Old Hao had said he wasn’t a true Dao Comprehension cultivator, just a “pseudo-Dao Comprehension,” but among these contestants, he was like a nuclear bomb.
Most were still at Golden Core; compared to him, the gap was enormous. Just standing there, even if everyone joined forces, they might not last a move against him.
My heart tightened as I felt Ye Wuhen’s sharp gaze lock onto me, as if it could pierce through me.
He then walked slowly toward us, each step heavy with pressure, making the air around us grow denser. I straightened up, gathering my energy, ready for anything. Lingxi’s grip on my sleeve tightened.
My heart was in my throat Ye Wuhen was clearly coming for Lingxi.
That guy was a madman; if he got his hands on Lingxi, who knew what he’d do, even here on the tournament stage, in front of everyone.
I clenched my fists no matter what, I wouldn’t let him get close to Lingxi. Even if I had to risk everything, I’d protect her.
I was no longer the Golden Core cultivator he once suppressed. After all this time, I’d reached the peak of Nascent Soul. Ye Wuhen was strong, but now I wasn’t powerless.
As he came closer, my determination to fight him grew. I wanted to see what this “pseudo-Dao Comprehension” could really do.
At the shout of “Begin!”, the stage erupted into chaos blades and swords flashing, shouts and clashes everywhere.
But in all the noise, no one dared challenge Ye Wuhen. Everyone seemed to realize his purpose, their eyes full of fear and avoidance, even steering clear of Lingxi and me as if we were plague-bearers.
They didn’t want to get caught up in Ye Wuhen’s business or anger such a powerhouse.
Lingxi and I were isolated in a corner, a strange “vacuum zone” around us.
Ye Wuhen kept coming, and I focused all my energy, green qi swirling around me, sword drawn to protect trembling Lingxi behind me.
Unfortunately, though I’d reached the peak of Nascent Soul, I hadn’t learned any of the advanced sword techniques my father created for higher realms.
As Ye Wuhen approached, I wished I knew those techniques to have more confidence, but I could only rely on the basic ones.
I gently took Lingxi’s soft hand her palm was cold and trembling. Her terrified eyes were brimming with tears, making my heart ache.
I squeezed her hand, trying to sound steady and reassuring: “Lingxi, don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you.” She trembled, wanting to speak but too scared, only looking at me with trust and dependence, gripping my hand as if I was her only support. I swore to myself I would protect her no matter what.
I swung my arm, my sword trembling, sending several green sword energies snaking toward Ye Wuhen.
The sword qi sliced the air with a sharp whistle, aiming for Ye Wuhen.
At the critical moment, I quickly channeled my power and used “Azure Rainbow.”
Instantly, a blazing, powerful aura enveloped me, like a Super Saiyan, radiant and imposing.
With this power, I moved like the wind, flashing across the stage.
In a blink, I circled behind Ye Wuhen and stabbed with all my strength, the sword tip shining coldly at his vital spot.
But my full-force sword qi and thrust couldn’t harm Ye Wuhen at all.
The power only shredded his clothes, the pieces drifting down.
Even more shocking, Ye Wuhen’s now nearly bare upper body glimmered with metallic luster beneath his skin like tightly packed scales reflecting a cold, eerie light.
This sudden scene made my heart sink. I’d hoped to gain an advantage with a surprise attack, but Ye Wuhen’s body was so strange.
“That’s... a demon body.” At that moment, a voice rang out in the noisy arena, tinged with awe and fear.
The voice continued: “This is the perfected realm of demonic arts.”
The crowd gasped, faces full of terror.
Demonic arts were taboo among cultivators; reaching this level meant terrifying, nearly unstoppable power.
Ye Wuhen had a demon body he’d perfected demonic arts. The situation worried me even more, and I gripped my sword tighter. But I could only face it.
I steeled myself and kept using “Azure Rainbow,” hoping for a sliver of hope.
My power surged, and I became a blur, darting away from Ye Wuhen, then ghosting back to strike.
My sword slashed at him at speeds almost too fast to see.
The air screamed as sword qi tore through it.
But despairingly, my sword only sparked weakly off his metallic-scaled arm, unable to harm him at all. As I faltered from repeated failure, Ye Wuhen suddenly struck, a powerful force locking onto me.
It was tangible, binding me so I couldn’t move at all, let alone dodge.
I felt the gap in our realms like an unbridgeable chasm.
Before I could react, Ye Wuhen attacked, his terrifying blow slamming into my chest. I felt like I’d been hammered, flying back uncontrollably, landing heavily at the edge of the stage, blood spurting from my mouth, my vision going black.
Lingxi’s eyes filled with tears as she rushed to me, trying with all her strength to help me up.
But I felt completely drained, limbs limp, unable to stand even with her help.
Her face was full of worry and anxiety, tears brimming as she softly called my name, “Young Master Lin...”
It made me both ache and feel helpless. Not far away, Ye Wuhen kept closing in, just meters away.
A few breaths later, before I could recover, Ye Wuhen reached Lingxi, “I told you, I’d find you.” He grabbed her chin, forcing her to stand and lift her head. Lingxi trembled, eyes full of fear.
She tried to struggle, but his grip was too strong.
Ye Wuhen sneered, looking down at her.
His other hand caressed her pale cheek. “What, after all this time, don’t you miss your master?”
“No... don’t... please...” Lingxi’s voice was choked, tears in her eyes.
“This shabby Daoist robe doesn’t suit you at all it can’t show your beauty.”
His hand moved down her neck, making her shudder. He suddenly grabbed her collar.
Rip! The blue Daoist robe tore open, exposing a large area of snowy skin.
With the robe torn, Lingxi’s proud breasts were fully exposed round, full, white as jade, glowing seductively.
Fear and tension made her nipples harden to a cherry pink, the tiny bumps around the areola clearly visible.
“Look at these slutty tits,” Ye Wuhen sneered, squeezing them. “Still pretending to be proper?”
Lingxi gasped in pain, her breasts deforming under his grip, her pink nipples growing even harder.
“Look at this slutty look,” Ye Wuhen mocked, “nipples still so sensitive. Do you wear your Daoist robe every day just thinking about having these slutty tits played with?”
Lingxi bit her lip, tears streaming down.
Her proud breasts trembled in the air, every shake making her feel deep shame.
“Ah... please...” Lingxi finally couldn’t help but moan, her nipples growing more swollen under his touch.
“So ironic,” Ye Wuhen sneered at the ruined robe, “outwardly righteous, but inside so lewd.”
“Look at you now,” he whispered in her ear, pinching her nipple, “remember crawling to my feet, wagging your ass like a bitch begging your master to fuck your slutty hole?”
“Ah...” A moan of pain and pleasure escaped Lingxi. She shook her head, “Please... stop...”
“Remember that time you did well, I let you crawl on the table,” Ye Wuhen said wickedly. “What did you say then? ‘Master... please love your bitch...’”
Lying helpless, I shouted, “Let go of Lingxi! If you have guts, come for me!”
“Trash, this has nothing to do with you.” Ye Wuhen sneered, “Right now, I just want this disobedient bitch to remember her place.”
At that moment, the other contestants, as if by agreement, all stopped fighting. They put away their weapons and stared at us, eyes full of interest, as if this deadly struggle had become a show for them.
“That little Daoist girl looked so pure who knew...”
Some even shouted for Ye Wuhen to hurry up. Lingxi trembled, feeling hundreds of eyes roaming over her exposed breasts.
The hot gazes made her body start to react. Ye Wuhen noticed and smirked, “What, shy now? Showing your true self in front of everyone isn’t so bad.”
“No... don’t look...” Lingxi begged weakly, voice breaking.
“This is better than the tournament,” someone laughed, “who’d have thought that pure little Daoist girl...”
Ye Wuhen squeezed harder, “Let them see what you really are.”
Lingxi bit her lip, tears of shame streaming down, but the pleasure from her breasts made her moan, “Ah~”
Her already hard nipple was pulled long in front of everyone.
When he let go, the abused nipple was swollen, nearly twice the size of the other, like a ripe cherry.
“Bet she can’t pretend to be pure anymore,” someone mocked. “I actually thought she was the most innocent and lovable...”
Pain and pleasure mingled, Lingxi’s face flushed, panting.
“If you like pretending to be pure so much, then...”
Ye Wuhen took out a golden bell with a delicate clasp.
Ignoring Lingxi’s struggles, he pinched her engorged nipple.
Click the clasp locked tight on the sensitive cherry.
A mechanical whir sounded, and a steel pin shot through her nipple, locking it in place.
Lingxi stared in horror at the pierced cherry on her chest, blood trickling down her breast, the golden bell jingling with every tremble.
Ding ding ding...
Each shiver made the bell ring sweetly. The crowd gasped in awe.
“She’s done for now,” someone laughed. “That bell will keep ringing until she learns her lesson, hahaha.”
“Hahaha.”
Others joined in laughter. Lingxi curled up in pain, her full breasts trembling, the bell ringing again and again.
Every movement brought stabbing pain, but mixed with strange pleasure...
Ye Wuhen smiled cruelly, “I made this myself. Without my secret method, no one can take it off.”
It hurts... it hurts so much...
