Chapter 28: Clueless About Death

The Music Saint’s residence — and you dare barge in?

Fu Yuqiu was utterly dumbfounded.

In all his life, this was the first time anyone had seen his ugly human form and asked him to be their Dao Companion.

Back when he’d been in Secluded Grass form, his long black hair had at least made him presentable — but now, with a head of snow-white hair hanging loose like a ghost’s, how could anyone possibly like this?

Is this dragon blind?

Fu Yuqiu thought, deeply doubting the Evil Dragon’s taste.

But as long as it wasn’t a hateful human, Fu Yuqiu didn’t feel violent rejection toward other races.

Clutching the Phoenix tight, he said patiently, “I don’t like dragons. I won’t be your Dao Companion.”

The Evil Dragon’s dazzled eyes drooped, and he pleaded pitifully, “I’ll build you the most beautiful nest with all the treasure in my cave!”

Fu Yuqiu frowned.

Why would a blade of grass need a nest?

The Phoenix’s body was growing hotter and hotter. Fu Yuqiu had no time to placate this dragon; he raised a hand and summoned a ball of water, his eyes blazing with a vivid, fire-bright radiance as he warned, “Move. Or I won’t be polite.”

He probably shouldn’t have said that — the words had barely fallen when the Evil Dragon grew so excited he thrashed and twisted theatrically, nearly tying himself into a knot.

“You’re even prettier when you’re angry!”

Fu Yuqiu: “???”

Are those eyes just there for breathing?!

Since he couldn’t reason with the dragon, and the Sword Cultivator was already gliding closer, Fu Yuqiu released a thread of Spiritual Power without so much as blinking, searched out the dragon’s seven-inch vital spot, and struck hard.

He regretted it the moment he’d done it.

A dragon isn’t a snake — what good was striking the seven inches?

The Evil Dragon was thick-hided and thick-skinned; seeing the deep blue water ball flying at him, he shamelessly leaned in, intending to catch this “adorable, glittering” bit of power.

After all, if his Treasure missed, he might be sad.

The water ball looked utterly harmless as it drifted gently against the Evil Dragon’s body.

The dragon was blissfully savoring visions of a nest built of Treasure, when a violent pain suddenly exploded across his face.

The world spun.

The Evil Dragon toppled straight backward with a crash, sprawling into the yellow sand like a dead snake.

Evil Dragon: “???”

The Sword Cultivator arrived half a step later and said coldly, “His Water Spiritual Power is strange. You’re a fire dragon and you still leaned in — are you trying to die?”

Only now feeling the bone-deep pain and the wretchedness of water dousing his fire Spiritual Power, the Evil Dragon said feebly, “Why didn’t you say so sooner?!”

The Sword Cultivator gave a cold laugh, gripped his spirit sword, and swept it down!

This strike was nothing like the probing cut before — even atop the scorching yellow sand it raised a searing Frost Chill.

The sword intent passed, grim and cold—

With a “hissss,” frost swept across the sand in its wake, flash-freezing into grim ice.

Heading straight for Fu Yuqiu.

The Evil Dragon sat bolt upright from his deathbed and roared, “Don’t you dare damage my Treasure!”

Fu “Treasure,” who had already fled on his last scraps of Spiritual Power, suddenly felt a chill at his back — so cold that a few wisps of down silently sprouted on the backs of the hands clutching the Phoenix.

The sword intent came with the momentum of cutting down Fu Yuqiu and the Phoenix both.

Fu Yuqiu whipped his head around in horror, watching the frost close in on his face.

That sword intent was ferocious and cold; the badly depleted Fu Yuqiu had no way to block it. In that split second, all he could do was hunch over and shield the Phoenix with his body.

A tremendous boom.

The entire Xili Mountains shuddered, countless birds and beasts scattering in flight.

A tongue of flame appeared out of thin air, hovering at Fu Yuqiu’s back.

That little flame was no bigger than a bean — and yet like an unmovable mountain, it barred every last shred of the frigid sword intent outside.

Fu Yuqiu’s wind-tossed white hair brushed across the flame, yet wasn’t singed in the slightest.

The Sword Cultivator was struck with horror: “What—?”

In the Evil Dragon’s eyes there was only: “Treasure!”

Fu Yuqiu started, turned, and saw the familiar Phoenix Fire. He hurriedly checked on the Phoenix in his arms.

The Phoenix had awakened — only he looked utterly exhausted, his eyes opening listlessly.

“Back to your original form.”

Fu Yuqiu transformed into his White Sparrow original form without a second thought, drifting down with a “cheep.”

The Phoenix spread his wings abruptly, taking the tiny White Sparrow onto his back. Magnificent plumage parted the swirling sand as he flew up into the sky, without a speck of dust touching him.

The Sword Cultivator’s blade trembled as he shouted sharply, “That’s Phoenix Fire! — Don’t let him escape!”

The Evil Dragon watched his Treasure fly away and panicked too. Ignoring the wounds the Linked Azure Water had left on his body, he roared and bared his fangs and claws, lunging as if to give chase.

Fu Yuqiu stretched out his little wings and clung tight to the Phoenix’s neck.

—Strange to say: terrified of heights as he was, on the Phoenix’s back he felt only safe.

“Phoenix, this is the Lower Realm.” Badly shaken, Fu Yuqiu reported the essentials first. “That ugly human just said ‘it really is the Phoenix.’ They must have come for you specifically.”

The Phoenix said nothing.

He shot up to mid-air in a flash, his icy gaze raking downward — and landing on the huge, conspicuous black dragon.

“Treasure. Be my Dao Companion.”

The Phoenix’s golden eyes were like a storm gathering before the rain, nearly grisly.

Should be executed.

The moment that thought flashed through his mind, the small tongue of flame still hovering in place blazed up as if doused in boiling oil. A rushing roar of fire burst out in every direction, converging into a golden-red, furnace-hot inferno that blazed in a continuous wall.

Phoenix Fire surged straight into the clouds.

The Sword Cultivator took the brunt of it; his spell-robes flashed as their embroidered patterns extinguished in an instant, absorbing the killing blow for him.

Still shaken, he scrambled aloft on his sword in a near-undignified scramble, dodging the lethal flames.

The Evil Dragon had no such luck. He had only just risen on the wind when the searing tongue of flame climbed up his dragon tail from below, burning fiercely upward.

Even the Evil Dragon’s fire-element Spiritual Power couldn’t withstand the Phoenix Fire’s burn. He howled in agony and plummeted straight toward the ground.

The Phoenix watched coldly, killing intent flooding his golden eyes beyond all suppression.

He was about to add another coal to roast the dragon crisp when the Spiritual Power forcibly shoved down within his meridians rebounded, crashing against his Inner Mansion. A thick taste of blood surged up his throat.

The flames below seemed to diminish somewhat.

Fu Yuqiu suddenly noticed the Phoenix’s body trembling slightly and said hurriedly, “Are you hurt?”

“No.” The Phoenix forced down a mouthful of blood and finally spoke, his tone cold. “Only — the Phoenix Inheritance is not yet merged.”

The Lower Realm’s suppression of phoenix power clashing against the surging power of the Phoenix Inheritance, desperately seeking to merge, met inside his Inner Mansion — more agonizing than fire and water forced to mingle.

This was no place to linger.

The Phoenix, consciousness dimming, let his Spiritual Power settle docilely in his Inner Mansion, gave the ground below one cold glance, and beat his wings away.

Fu Yuqiu had finally found someone to lean on. Aggrieved, he clung to the Phoenix’s neck and mumbled, “How did you come down? How did you break that formation? You’re so hot — are you sure you’re not hurt?”

The Phoenix said not a word, his eyes cold and distant.

Fu Yuqiu said glumly, “Are you angry?”

The Phoenix didn’t bother answering. He only said, “Hold tight.”

Fu Yuqiu obediently tightened his grip as the Phoenix dove.

They flew for who knew how long, until the ground below was no longer endless yellow sand.

The Xili Mountains stretched lush and green below, their towering trees blotting out the sky. The Phoenix flew in and landed, and countless spirit birds burst outward in a panicked rush.

The Phoenix laid one wing against the ground, and Fu Yuqiu slid down it.

Having finally escaped the danger, Fu Yuqiu panted a few shaky breaths, looking around.

He had assumed this would be a place to hide from pursuit — but look as he might, it was just deep old-growth forest, nothing special.

Fu Yuqiu was still puzzling over it when a muffled thud of a body collapsing sounded behind him.

The Phoenix lay curled on the ground, half-conscious, golden eyes listlessly half-shut, his magnificent plumage trembling faintly — as if endless agony were violently erupting inside his body. Just looking at him, one could feel the pain.

“Phoenix!”

Fu Yuqiu fluttered over in a panic and nudged the Phoenix’s face with his head.

The Azure Luan’s Spiritual Power was of the water element; Fu Yuqiu dared not try to heal the Phoenix with it, so he could only hover helplessly, his cheeps so frantic they took on a crying note.

“I-I’ll give you my vitality…”

Fu Yuqiu was all alone now; the only thing he had to give was his overflowing vitality — but he wasn’t a Secluded Grass anymore, and for the life of him he didn’t know how to portion it out.

The Phoenix Inheritance inside the Phoenix gushed out overwhelming Spiritual Power like a bottomless pit, scouring every meridian in his body — a refining agony that scoured marrow and bone.

—The Phoenix Inheritance normally required an auxiliary Spell Formation, plus days of secluded meditation with the five senses sealed, before it could fully merge.

“It’s all right…” The Phoenix kept his eyes closed and said softly, “You go on ahead.”

Fu Yuqiu had assumed human form and was clumsily gathering the Phoenix into his arms; at the words, he froze.

“Wh-what?”

“I’d barely been down a moment before they found me. That was no accident.” The Phoenix’s voice grew fainter and fainter. “They may carry artifacts that trace my whereabouts. If you stay with me, they will catch up before long.”

An overwhelming exhaustion surged up in the Phoenix’s heart.

Even knowing this White Sparrow might be harboring malice — that he’d lured him down deliberately — he had still stupidly come.

In his daze, a youth wreathed in the scent of wood seemed to stir faintly.

Just leave, then, the Phoenix thought.

Opening the cage door, he let the bird that longed for freedom fly away.

The farther the better.

The Phoenix Inheritance dragged the Phoenix deeper and deeper into the mire, forcibly sealing his Spiritual Sense so he could devote himself wholly to the merging.

And in the instant before he sank into darkness, those soft hands suddenly tightened around him.

The Phoenix started.

He struggled to open his eyes through the dark, peering through the blurry haze.

Fu Yuqiu was holding him, face set, walking toward the deep mountains.

The Phoenix stared at him, dazed. “You…”

“Shut up.” Fu Yuqiu was probably angry enough that his hands shook, though his face showed nothing. “You’re annoying. I don’t want to hear you talk right now.”

The Phoenix: “…”

Having been “tricked” into descending, the Phoenix wasn’t angry — Fu Yuqiu, on the other hand, was furious.

Being told to leave on his own still came with a chance of survival — wasn’t that a good thing? Why the anger?

Fu Yuqiu’s tantrums were usually a grand spectacle; this was the first time he’d ever sulked this quietly, eyes reddening with held-back feeling.

The Phoenix looked at his damp, feathered lashes and after a long moment said, “If you carry me, you will die.”

“Then drop dead.” Fu Yuqiu’s face was blank. “If they catch up, I’ll set off my Spirit Core Self-Detonation. One blast, two kills. Not a loss.”

The Phoenix: “?”

Just how obsessed was he with self-detonating?

An indescribable feeling rose in the Phoenix’s chest, like ice swept by a March breeze.

He gazed at Fu Yuqiu for a long, long moment, then gave a soft laugh.

Saying nothing more, the burning-hot Phoenix curled docilely in Fu Yuqiu’s arms, wrapped in the scent of wood, and truly let himself sink into darkness, hastening to merge with the Phoenix Inheritance.

Only then did Fu Yuqiu’s anger ease a little.

The deep forest was full of towering giants no number of men could ring with their arms, branches so thick the sunlight couldn’t pour through. The deeper he went, the more a gloomy chill crept up from the soles of his feet.

Having lived as Secluded Grass for so many years, Fu Yuqiu didn’t fear forests at all — in fact, this feeling of returning to nature’s embrace felt wonderfully comfortable.

—If he weren’t running for his life, he’d be rolling on the ground in delight.

Passing through the deep woods, Fu Yuqiu came upon a sapient Tree Monster and went to ask the way.

“Which way is the Secluded Sound Valley?”

The Old Tree squinted at Fu Yuqiu and drawled, “Go… where… for… what?”

“…” Fu Yuqiu was thrown off by the halting speech. “Home.”

Old Tree: “Heh heh. Secluded Sound Valley… can’t… get in… now.”

Fu Yuqiu pressed, “Why not?”

“Who… knows.”

Fu Yuqiu: “…”

He had to settle for, “Then which way?”

The Old Tree extended a root and pointed south.

Fu Yuqiu bowed slightly. “Thank you.”

Perhaps because Fu Yuqiu looked so obedient, after pointing the way the Old Tree kindly added, “But… to pass… you must cross… the gorge… ahead. The immortal… who lives there… is not… easy to mess with.”

Fu Yuqiu painstakingly pieced together the Old Tree’s halting words, understood they were well-meant, and only said, “Many thanks.”

With that, he carried the Phoenix south.

Things had come this far; detours were a luxury. The sooner he reached the Secluded Sound Valley, the better.

Its Barrier had probably been reinforced again by his older brother — once he got there, he was certain he could find the entrance.

The Old Tree sighed softly.

Less than a quarter-hour after Fu Yuqiu left, the Sword Cultivator and the Evil Dragon came riding the wind, following the Spirit Rune’s aura.

The Evil Dragon was in a wretched state — his tail badly scorched. Listlessly he transformed into a tiny black dragon and perched on the Sword Cultivator’s shoulder, still croaking away with admirable perseverance.

“My Treasure…”

“My brilliant, dazzling Treasure…”

“He stole my Dao Companion. The Dragon Clan and the Phoenix truly are sworn enemies.”

The Sword Cultivator said coldly, “You’re an Evil Dragon that betrayed and fled the Dragon Clan — and you dare invoke the Dragon Clan’s name?”

The Evil Dragon was still daydreaming about the face that had addled dragon souls, humming about his Treasure.

The Sword Cultivator couldn’t be bothered with the lecher. Frowning, he examined the talisman script floating above his palm, looked up along the direction it pointed — and his expression changed.

“Damn it.”

The Evil Dragon perked up weakly. “What?”

“Ahead lies Gongshang Gorge.”

The Evil Dragon didn’t follow. “What about Gongshang Gorge?”

The Sword Cultivator shot him a look. “The Music Saint’s residence. And you dare barge in?”

The Evil Dragon frowned, troubled now too.

“The Music Saint prizes his quiet above all. Anyone who enters Gongshang Gorge — regardless of cultivation — comes out either mad or dead.”

The Sword Cultivator drew a deep breath. His sword intent had reached the Perfection Realm, and even he dreaded this legendary “Music Saint.”

The Evil Dragon hesitated, weighed “possibly being driven mad by the Music Saint’s Demonic Sound” against “Treasure, Dao Companion,” and finally made his decision with life-and-death bravado.

“What’s to fear? We just cut them off before they reach Gongshang Gorge.”

The Sword Cultivator eyed him skeptically, then nodded after a moment. “Fine. Let’s go.”

The two rode the wind through the dense forest, chasing in Fu Yuqiu’s direction.

Ten li away, Gongshang Gorge.

A waterfall hung from the highest peak like a band of white silk.

It plunged down, thundering into the deep pool at the gorge’s bottom, throwing up veils of white mist.

On a great boulder beside the pool sat a man facing the waterfall, a battered old zither laid across his knees.

Deaf to the tremendous roar of the falling water all around, he kept his head slightly bowed, left hand brushing lightly over the broken zither.

The white silk wound around his wrist lifted gently in the breeze.

Abruptly, the jade bowl before him rippled in a circle.

—Someone had crossed into the Gongshang Gorge’s Frontier.

The man’s brow creased; leaning forward slightly, he revealed a handsome face, worn and coldly detached.

Perhaps the intruders had soured his mood. He drew his right hand from his wide sleeve and struck the zither hard — the note rolled out wrapped in a furious wave of Spiritual Power, and the pool instantly erupted with a waterspout dozens of zhang high, falling back in a hissing rain.

His words came out as ice.

“Courting death.”

The right hand met the zither with a creaking groan.

That right hand was, unmistakably, carved of wood.