◎ Where is my Golden Radiance Grass? ◎
Among all the living things Fu Yuqiu had ever seen, the top of his hate list belonged to the human race — because they were forever scheming to dig up secluded grasses for medicine. Utterly rotten.
Close behind were birds, forever pecking and tapping away.
If a bird pecked one of his leaves, Fu Yuqiu could bawl for three days and three nights without sleep or rest.
The dwelling in the Secluded Sound Valley was ringed with densely woven red threads forming a Barrier, countless little bells hanging from the threads; a single gust of wind would scare birds far away.
Fu Yuqiu had dodged birds all his life — never imagining that one day he would become one himself.
He was on the verge of breakdown.
He frantically paddled his tender little claws, hoping to sprout roots and anchor himself, but after kicking forever, only a few wisps of down came loose.
Fu Yuqiu stared at those snow-white wings and nearly wept with rage.
His life remained — but he was living it as a bird.
Fu Yuqiu felt that life as a grass held no joy; he couldn’t even feel thankful for his rebirth. He lay on the ground, despondent, silently shedding tears.
— Only his current shell was too round; lying down, his head couldn’t reach the ground at all. He had to roll over and rest his head limply on the little jade dish beside him, whimpering with hiccups.
“Better off dead!” Fu Yuqiu fumed.
“Better to eat him raw,” said the azure-robed youth beside him.
Fu Yuqiu: “…”
Fu Yuqiu instantly wilted. He had only been — only been talking.
The azure-robed youth stared at him, parted his lips to lick at his little sharp teeth, appetite stirring. “If we extract this White Sparrow’s spirit blood for medicine, could the Venerable One reward me with the rest of the shell to taste?”
Fu Yuqiu: “…”
As a grass he’d had to worry about being dug up for medicine; now as a bird, did he have to worry about becoming someone’s dinner too?!
Fu Yuqiu cried even harder, whimpering inwardly: Is there a Spirit Core in this bird’s body or not?
Sooner or later, I’ll blow them all up.
In no time, Fu Yuqiu’s seven souls and six spirits seemed to finally settle into this shell, and a fragmented stream of memories flooded his mind, nearly bursting his Sea of Consciousness.
With a muffled boom, Fu Yuqiu nearly fainted.
But at least he now fully understood the origin of this shell.
“Memory” told him, cold and merciless: this shell was a living piece of trash — no Spirit Core. Forget self-detonation.
The White Sparrow had been the youngest Little Highness of the Azure Luan Clan — a good-for-nothing White Sparrow that could only chirp.
No Spirit Core, no spirit root. Years of cultivation, mountains of spirit pills and wondrous medicines thrown at it, and it couldn’t even manage Assuming Human Form.
Still, the White Sparrow had decent luck. On the strength of a single phrase — “a white sparrow is an auspicious omen” — it had been adopted by the Azure Luan Clan as a mascot.
No one knew how many meals a day it was fed; that body was round and plump, a good three curves fatter than any other bird or beast.
Until some days ago, when the Azure Luan Clan changed masters.
The new Clan Master presumably decided this White Sparrow wasn’t auspicious in the slightest, yet ate plenty — so she simply shipped the glutton off to the Nine Heavens to serve as the Immortal Venerable’s pampered spirit pet.
Fu Yuqiu was dumbfounded.
The Immortal Venerable?
Though he had lived in the Secluded Sound Valley detached from the world, after Feng Beihe took him out into it, he had once heard that Venerable’s notorious name.
They said the Immortal Venerable was obsessive and murder-crazed; back when he fought his way up to the Nine Heavens, his blood had dyed the clouds crimson across the sky, lingering seven days without dispersing.
That was fabrication from mortal storybooks.
Fu Yuqiu had listened with relish back then, saying to Feng Beihe, “Exaggerated, surely. It’s not as if the Venerable is the lord of the Nether Realm’s hells.”
Feng Beihe’s expression at the time had been very strange. He only said, “Not exaggerated.”
Fu Yuqiu, sipping spirit water through a straw — glug, glug, glug — puzzled: “What?”
Feng Beihe said nothing more, just refilled his cup, signaling “drink yours.”
Fu Yuqiu spent six of every twelve hours of his day drinking water; seeing the refill, he happily slurped his spirit water and tossed the topic from his mind.
He’d assumed he would never in this lifetime meet that legendary, murder-crazed Immortal Venerable — never expected…
So right now he was on the Nine Heavens?!
“But it doesn’t matter!” Fu Yuqiu was very good at comforting himself. “We have no grudges between us. Why would he kill me?”
At that thought, Fu Yuqiu’s bird body jolted.
What had that dragon said just now?
This shell was so starving it ate the spirit flower the Venerable used to nurture his Spirit Vein?!
Fu Yuqiu: “…”
Was this living piece of trash starving mad?!
Already this fat and still eating!
“But it doesn’t matter!” Fu Yuqiu, ever optimistic, consoled himself again. “I’ll say the Venerable was catching insects, and I accidentally ate one.”
After thinking it, Fu Yuqiu himself fell silent.
Even an idiot wouldn’t believe that nonsense.
Head aching terribly, he was about to console himself once more with “but it doesn’t matter” when another fragmented memory surfaced.
Beneath a towering tree, a man in azure robes stood facing the wind and said flatly: “No one guards against an idiot that cannot even manage human form.”
With that, a round bead rolled beneath the White Sparrow’s claws.
The White Sparrow chirped in confusion.
The man said: “Find a chance to place the Linked Azure Water in the Nine Heavens’ Jade Spring. Once the Venerable One has perished, I will naturally give you the antidote.”
Fu Yuqiu: “…”
So this shell of his was here to assassinate the Venerable?!
And there was an antidote?
Did that mean this White Sparrow had been poisoned?
Fu Yuqiu lay down peacefully, deciding he might as well wait for death.
The azure-robed youth gazed longingly at the “dish” in the cage, his fingers turning into a pitch-black dragon claw as he prodded the lock of brilliant red plumes on the White Sparrow’s brow.
Fu Yuqiu had given up on life entirely, certain he was doomed.
Seemingly having made peace with it, he glared viciously at the dragon, thinking: Once… twice…
Ten more pokes, and I’ll self-detonate my Spirit Core!
Oh wait — no Spirit Core, right?
Frowning, Fu Yuqiu probed his own Inner Mansion, thinking: That’s not right either. This shell clearly has a Spirit Core.
The Spirit Core in his Inner Mansion differed somewhat from a Crimson Spirit Secluded Grass’s — wisps of watery vapor threading through the round bead, its deep-blue glow crackling as if struck by lightning, spreading like a spiderweb across every meridian.
Fu Yuqiu didn’t dwell on it. With a Spirit Core, things could be managed.
“One more poke, and I’ll blow up right in his face!”
Fu Yuqiu’s temperament looked soft and easily bullied, but his bones carried a touch of worldly-naive madness; the smallest thing could set him off.
Perhaps because he had just died once, he now feared nothing, coldly counting how many times the dragon had poked him.
“Don’t get too close.”
The girl in dark robes crossed her arms and said coldly, “A few days ago the Vermilion Crane Clan sent an oriole, ostensibly to sing little tunes for the Venerable One’s amusement — in truth with intent to assassinate him. Who knows what sinister thing this White Sparrow carries?”
The girl’s dragon pupils seemed able to pierce skin and see into hearts.
Fu Yuqiu wondered whether this woman knew he was carrying that damned “Linked Azure Water” — but he didn’t care. He gave a cold chirp and kept counting.
“Eight… nine…”
Almost ten.
Fu Yuqiu, apparently addicted to Spirit Core Self-Detonation, was about to blow up again without hesitation.
Just then the azure-robed youth finally withdrew his annoying dragon claw, saying happily, “Nothing will happen. Look — this Little Snowball can’t even manage human form. How could it possibly harm the Venerable One?”
Fu Yuqiu smoothed down his fluffed feathers, thinking: At least you know what’s good for you.
The azure-robed youth added, “Even if he is carrying something, no matter — he ruined the Golden Radiance Grass, so tonight the Venerable will surely set him off like fireworks. Tsk, I could really go for charcoal-roasted little bird right now.”
Fu Yuqiu: “…”
Sooner or later I’ll blow up this dragon coveting my new shell!
Just then, the snow-white clouds outside the window, as if tainted by devilish miasma, turned in a blink to ink-black storm clouds that began cracking with lightning.
“Chirp!”
Fu Yuqiu, fearless a moment ago, instantly turned coward, drooping his tail feathers as he burrowed into a corner of the cage.
This storm-portending sky was too strange — and besides, for a blade of grass, nothing was more terrifying than raging wind and pouring rain.
After every rainstorm, he’d lose a few leaves.
So annoying.
Seeing the window, the azure-robed youth gleefully scooped up the cage and ran.
“The Venerable One is coming back soon!”
Fu Yuqiu was jolted into rolling twice inside the cage, involuntarily letting out a “jeep” as he crashed into the gaps of the Golden Cage, forced to take in his surroundings.
Gold and jade splendor, immortal mist drifting — as if standing atop the clouds themselves. The spiritual power here was pure to the extreme, utterly unlike the barren spiritual power of the Mortal Realm below among the Three Realms.
Truly no longer in the mortal world.
One glance at the thunder and rain at the horizon and Fu Yuqiu’s instincts quailed; he hurriedly buried his head in a corner, hid his claws, leaving only his tail feathers trembling finely.
The azure-robed youth hummed a tune as he walked the mist-wreathed corridor, chattering nonstop to the girl beside him.
“The Venerable says we’ll watch fireworks later. The oriole’s colors are pretty — it’ll look lovely set alight.”
“The Snow Deer Physician was counting on the Golden Radiance Grass to make medicine for nurturing the Venerable’s soul. All wasted now.”
“The spirit grass had only just bloomed. What a pity.”
The girl preferred quiet and ignored him entirely.
The youth talked to himself the whole way, single-handedly producing the effect of an entire crowd chattering.
Before long, the great hall was reached.
The two hurried up eighty-one steps of white jade.
Mist brushed past the entrance of the solemn hall. A guard stood watch, expression stern as a puppet’s, eyes stone-dead and lightless, grim as one guarding the Yellow Springs Hell.
Mist swirled within the hall. Upon entering, one faintly heard the crisp ring of Wind-Divining Chimes stirred by the wind, ethereal and distant.
Outside, the wind raged as if a Wrathful Ghost had descended.
The Wind-Divining Chimes, hanging who knew where, rang louder and louder, the chime-sounds dense as drumbeats striking the heart, unsettling for no clear reason.
The azure-robed youth was named Yun Shou. Familiar with the way, he walked to the jade dais by the hall’s head seat and deposited Fu Yuqiu on the bird-perch.
Fu Yuqiu’s two claws clung desperately to the crossbar, nearly rolling off.
“Chirp!”
Yun Shou watched him wobble for a good while at his leisure, then mocked without mercy: “What spirit pills and wondrous medicines has the Azure Luan Clan Master been feeding you? As a bird, how did you get this fat?”
Fu Yuqiu: “…”
Insult me once more and I’ll self-detonate!
Seeing how much effort Fu Yuqiu exerted just to stand, Yun Shou’s eyes rolled, and he grinned.
Fu Yuqiu had a bad feeling — this one was brewing something nasty.
Yun Shou transformed into a small dragon and flew off, returning shortly with a jade basin in his jaws.
He resumed human form and set the basin on the jade dais; the Spirit Soil inside showed signs of having been dug through.
Bubbles popped up above Fu Yuqiu’s head, uncomprehending.
Yun Shou’s eyes curved with laughter. Seizing Fu Yuqiu’s round body, he — like planting a blade of grass — pressed the bird down into the Spirit Soil.
Fu Yuqiu’s two tender yellow claws were pushed into the Spirit Soil; from afar, the basin looked as if a great cluster of snowball flowers had bloomed in it.
Yun Shou laughed heartily: “Since you ate that spirit grass, plant yourself in this basin and wait for the Venerable One to come.”
Fu Yuqiu: “…”
To any other bird this would be humiliation — but to Fu Yuqiu, secluded grass that he was at heart, it was practically someone handing a pillow to the sleepy.
The Crimson Spirit Secluded Grass rooted in Spirit Soil year-round; even after being forced into human form, his legs had always been tightly wrapped. The only exception was when Feng Beihe imprisoned him in that Sand Mustard…
Just thinking of it made Fu Yuqiu’s head swim with rage again.
He silently chanted a few rounds of don’t get angry, don’t get angry, that dog of a man is already smashed to bits, and successfully soothed himself.
The feeling of soil wrapping around his legs was so safe. Fu Yuqiu pushed his claws several inches deeper and couldn’t help letting out a sigh.
“Chirp chirp—”
The moment he chirped, he regretted it, spitting twice.
This shell was detestable.
Fu Yuqiu resolved: if he chirped uncontrollably ten more times, he would slap his own beak.
Yun Shou had been hoping the bird would explode in fury, but after waiting and waiting, the White Sparrow comfortably “planted” itself in the basin, eyes narrowed in evident enjoyment.
Yun Shou: “?”
This White Sparrow was rather unusual.
Fu Yuqiu was too busy enjoying the Spirit Soil’s comfort to notice that the Wind-Divining Chimes had fallen silent.
The thunder and rain outside had gone quiet as well; the clouds and mist hung frozen like mountains of ice.
Not until a firework-bursting sound suddenly rang out, nearly startling Fu Yuqiu headfirst into the soil, did he stir.
He barely managed to stay “planted” and looked up.
From the sea of clouds, a firework rose slowly, pierced through a cloud, and burst open with a boom at the center of the great hall.
Firelight scattered — and fine white down seemed to drift in the air.
The firework had burst too beautifully. Fu Yuqiu loved fireworks, and seeing that dazzling, multicolored brilliance, his eyes lit up.
Having lived alone in the Secluded Sound Valley so long, Fu Yuqiu was in the habit of talking to himself; seeing such beautiful fireworks, he couldn’t resist chattering away: “So pretty! One more, please.”
Having chirped happily, Fu Yuqiu immediately went expressionless and cursed himself.
One more chirp and I’ll slap you.
He was still muttering to himself when, amid the successive cracks of bursting fireworks, a low chuckle suddenly sounded at his ear.
Fu Yuqiu turned his head blankly — and his gaze crashed without warning into a pair of beautiful golden eyes.
The man was close enough to touch, gazing at him with gentle eyes — Fu Yuqiu hadn’t sensed in the slightest when he had arrived.
Beside him, Yun Shou was kneeling in respectful salute.
Outside, the rain had cleared to sunshine; light poured down upon a hand with distinct, well-shaped knuckles.
That finger tapped slowly on the lock of red plumes atop the White Sparrow’s head, the voice full of gentle laughter: “You think the fireworks are pretty too?”
The tap made Fu Yuqiu sway; he barely kept himself “planted.”
Amid the swirling mist, a man in snow-white robes sat upon a cloud-carved seat, his long hair bound loosely with a single azure ribbon, spilling over his floor-length hem like an undercurrent pouring through mist.
The man’s feathery lashes lowered; golden embroidery at his cuffs wrapped slender white wrists resting upon the jade table — nobility as natural as breathing.
Mist flowing past the man seemed to slow a few beats.
Fu Yuqiu cocked his head at him.
So this was…
The Immortal Venerable?
Nothing like the three-headed, six-armed, tiger-wolf-bear monstrosity he had imagined — instead, rather good-looking?
— For someone like Fu Yuqiu, a face-blind judge of humans who loathed human skins, to praise someone’s looks: a first in all the Three Realms.
At the Venerable’s appearance, the surrounding clouds that blotted out the sky slowly dispersed.
The firework sounds still rang. Fu Yuqiu’s attention was all on this suddenly-appeared Venerable — then a careless sweep of his side vision caught something wrong.
The thing setting off fireworks at the center of the hall was not the Fire Rock that Fu Yuqiu had watched so often in the Secluded Sound Valley, nor the powder crates Feng Beihe took him to see in the mortal world.
Beneath the fireworks was only a blood-drenched man, kneeling dying in a pool of blood.
Straining, the man yanked hard at his own arm, as if tearing something loose — and from his empty fingertips, a bloodstained plume materialized out of thin air.
Gripping the plume, the man poured his meager remaining spiritual power and life force into it.
With a “bang,” the plume exploded skyward, bursting into a firework of interwoven firelight and bloodlight.
Fu Yuqiu stiffened all over, an involuntary shiver running through him.
What the youth had said earlier — “the oriole’s colors are pretty, it’ll look lovely set alight”…
Was this it? A blood-firework, burst open from spiritual power and life force?
The Venerable, exuding gentle warmth, lowered his head, his beautiful pupils like the water of an ancient pool — deep, serene — watching the fireworks with interest.
Noticing the White Sparrow looked frightened stiff, he chuckled softly.
The sparrow was so fat it had no neck; the Venerable’s pale finger could only hook under that tender yellow little beak, gently yet forcefully tipping Fu Yuqiu’s head up.
Fu Yuqiu didn’t actually feel afraid, yet pressed against his beak by that warm hand, he found himself trembling uncontrollably, the lock of red plumes on his head quivering near to falling out.
Golden eyes reflected the blood-fireworks still bursting. The voice was soft and unhurried, carrying a dignified grace no one else could imitate.
“Didn’t they say the Golden Radiance Grass had bloomed? Why does this one look like a snowball flower?”
Fu Yuqiu froze.
The Venerable asked with a smile: “Little Highness, where is my Golden Radiance Grass?”
Fu Yuqiu: “…”
I-it’s in my stomach.
