Chapter 16: The Flower Festival Worships the Fox Immortal Part 1

Daylight came quickly to the Lingshu Mountains.

Lu Qi was woken by the sun. The instant consciousness returned, searing pain from the wounds on his back flooded his mind, and he nearly failed to keep his expression in check.

Only when his limbs recovered did he realize he was actually lying down.

He reached back and touched a layer of undisturbed salve—it smelled extremely expensive, though most of it had missed the wounds entirely.

Lu Qi: “…”

Pale, Lu Qi looked around and found himself in a dilapidated temple deep in the mountains.

Then the broken door creaked open, and in walked Lin Zhuoyu in his beaded curtain hat. Seeing him awake, Lin Zhuoyu hurried over, concerned. “Are you all right? Why are you sitting up? Lie back down, quick.”

Lu Qi: “…”

His thick lashes motionless, Lu Qi said quietly, “No need.”

Lin Zhuoyu had been badly frightened by the sight of him covered in blood the night before, afraid the boy might up and die on him again, and warmly urged him, again and again, to lie down and rest.

Lu Qi couldn’t help saying, weakly, “My back hurts…”

Realization dawned. “Then lie on your stomach, then.”

Lu Qi had no choice but to roll onto his front.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Lin Zhuoyu reached out and lifted Lu Qi’s robes.

Lu Qi’s hand clenched; his face went whiter still.

The half-healed wounds had split slightly from lying down, oozing threads of blood, and had all but grown into the fabric. Peeling it back like this was little better than slow slicing.

“Aiyo,” the culprit marveled. “Your wounds are so much better. Last night the flesh had burst right open, blood spurting out with every beat—I thought you wouldn’t make it.”

Lu Qi said haltingly, “Yesterday, I owe you my life, Immortal Lord. My father…”

Lin Zhuoyu sighed. “My condolences.”

Lin Zhuoyu had not rested all night—gathering the corpses of the dead and raising graves over them, then scrubbing off the stench of blood before laboriously applying salve to Lu Qi.

Raised as he had been, Lin Zhuoyu had never done a lick of hard work in his life, and on his very first day out of the sect he was already dead tired.

Lin Zhuoyu was beginning to appreciate the hardships of training abroad.

Having clumsily finished applying the salve, Lin Zhuoyu patted his shoulder and asked softly, “What happened to you all last night?”

Lu Qi lay face-down on the pillow, his expression hidden, only his choked voice audible.

“I was traveling with my parents from Phoenix Pool Pass to Guping City. Father said the route through Lingshu Mountain would be shorter, so we risked entering the mountains. But then… I don’t know what happened. Father suddenly told me to hide, and then—as if bewitched—they began killing one another. I couldn’t stop it.”

Lin Zhuoyu frowned. “Before that, was there anything strange at all?”

“Nothing…” Lu Qi said blankly. “Father seemed to say a wild fox had appeared. I didn’t see it clearly.”

Lin Zhuoyu understood.

Nine times out of ten, it was the bewitchment arts of the Demon Race.

“Do you have other family?” Lin Zhuoyu asked. “I’ll take you to them.”

Lu Qi’s eyes reddened. “My parents were moving our whole family to Guping City. Who could have foreseen such a disaster…”

Lin Zhuoyu made a small, troubled “ah.”

The boy looked only sixteen or seventeen. To lose every relative in a single night, wounded so gravely and left with no one—to simply abandon him to his fate was a hurdle Lin Zhuoyu’s conscience could not clear.

Sensing Lin Zhuoyu’s hesitation, Lu Qi struggled up at once. “My ancestors produced an Immortal Lord. I was born with a Spirit Root, and I have already reached the Half Core Realm—that is why Father wanted to take me to Guping City to cultivate. Immortal Lord, your life-saving grace can never be repaid. I can only serve at your side and die ten thousand deaths without regret.”

Lin Zhuoyu probed his meridians and saw that at so young an age the boy was already on the verge of forming his core. His talent was truly not bad—no wonder the family had moved from the barren, power-less Phoenix Pool Pass.

Seeing Lin Zhuoyu silent, he immediately moved to rise from the bed and kneel.

Lin Zhuoyu steadied him. “None of that. For now, the priority is healing your wounds.”

Weak, Lu Qi slumped against his chest, nodding with a small pale face. “Thank you… Immortal Lord.”

“No need to call me Immortal Lord,” Lin Zhuoyu said. “My name is Lin Zhuoyu, courtesy name Wuyou. Just call me by my name.”

Lu Qi seemed to pause. “Which ‘zhuo’?”

“The zhuo of pouring wine and raising cups.”

Lu Qi lowered his eyes. “Elder Brother Zhuoyu.”

Lin Zhuoyu was the youngest in all of Floating Jade Mountain; this was the first time anyone had ever called him “Elder Brother.” He found it novel indeed, but still cleared his throat. “There’s no need for ‘Elder Brother.'”

“It would be far too discourteous to speak my benefactor’s bare name,” Lu Qi said softly.

Lin Zhuoyu let him have his way.

Once Lu Qi could walk, he slowly made his way out of the ruined temple to bow before the graves Lin Zhuoyu had raised.

By the time he returned, Lin Zhuoyu had moved over all the Lu family’s belongings and waved him over. “Come, come.”

Lu Qi walked over slowly, his gaze sweeping across the things on the ground.

The Lu family, moving lock, stock, and barrel to Guping City, had naturally carried their whole estate with them—a dazzling array of everyday odds and ends.

Lu Qi counted through them in his mind and found something missing.

The Lu ancestors had produced an Immortal Lord and left behind a Spirit Grade teleportation artifact capable of carrying one a thousand li—rarer even than Boundless—and half a mountain of Crystal Jade mines, all kept in a purple-sandalwood chest carved with sigils.

The chest was now empty.

Seeing it, Lu Qi, for some reason, felt the corner of his lips curl into a smile.

…Gone in a flash.

Lin Zhuoyu straightened up and looked back at him. “Take a look. Is anything missing?”

Lu Qi shook his head obediently. “Nothing.”

“Good…” Lin Zhuoyu began, then—”Hm.”

Lu Qi lowered his eyes to hide the smile in them—when suddenly Lin Zhuoyu reached over and gave his head a light pat, laughing and scolding, “What a blockhead.”

Lu Qi didn’t understand.

Lin Zhuoyu produced a storage pouch from his sleeve and tossed it to him.

Lu Qi opened it and looked inside—and froze.

There, in the beautiful peach-blossom-scented pouch, the Lu family’s teleportation artifact sat quietly amid a pile of Crystal Jade, not one bead short.

Lin Zhuoyu said huffily, “You forget the most valuable thing your own family owns? It rained last night, and this broken temple was leaking everywhere. I was afraid the artifact would be ruined, so I put it in a storage pouch. There—the pouch is yours too. No need to return it.”

In that instant, something in Lu Qi’s expression seemed to crack.

The watching-a-joke smile at the bottom of his eyes vanished abruptly, and looked at closely, there was something grim and cold there.

“Lu Qi?” Lin Zhuoyu said.

Lu Qi dropped his gaze, concealing the chill, and held out the storage pouch. “Then let me give these to Elder Brother Zhuoyu. Please don’t refuse.”

“What would I want with these?” Lin Zhuoyu stuffed the pouch into his sleeve. “Keep them yourself.”

“But—”

“No buts. Go rest. When you’re better, we go into the mountains.”

Lu Qi could only nod, lips pressed together, clutching the storage pouch, his eyes deep and cold.

For just an instant, the strand of Red Jade Beads at his wrist glimmered faintly, and his pale nails seemed to sharpen into claws, slicing through a single tassel-thread of the storage pouch, which drifted soundlessly to the ground, unnoticed by anyone.

This was the fringe of Lingshu Mountain. Lin Zhuoyu rode the wind in a sweep of dozens of li around and found no trace of the Fox Clan whatsoever.

If he wanted to find tracks, he would have to push deeper.

Flying back, he found Lu Qi could walk almost normally, so he took the boy and pressed into the mountains, making the most of the daylight.

Following behind Lin Zhuoyu and watching his back, Lu Qi couldn’t help asking, “Elder Brother, they say a Great Demon on Lingshu Mountain eats people. Why did you come here?”

The bead curtain of Lin Zhuoyu’s hat swayed lightly. His face was hidden; only his clear voice carried back. “Me? I’ve come to eat the Great Demon, of course!”

Lu Qi couldn’t help laughing.

“Don’t believe me?” Lin Zhuoyu turned back to him, smiling. “Once we reach some deep, uninhabited spot, I’ll show my true form—waah!—and gobble you up in three bites!”

Lu Qi blinked, seemingly unable to parse the joke.

Deflated but not embarrassed, Lin Zhuoyu could only say, “I’m teasing you.”

This time Lu Qi’s eyes curved. “Hahaha.”

Alone, the journey would have been dull; with a Lu Qi around, it was far more relaxing. Lin Zhuoyu said, smiling, “I have history with the Great Demon. Why else would I abandon a perfectly good life to risk my neck out here?”

Half understanding, Lu Qi asked, “Did the Great Demon harm your family too?”

“It did.”

“Then you hate the Great Demon,” Lu Qi said, “and want to kill it for vengeance.”

“Mm, you could say that.”

“Why ‘could say’?”

“Anyone would want revenge for a hatred so deep. But your heart must not be occupied by hatred, or you become a monster.” Lin Zhuoyu walked ahead, green robes stirred by the wind, the jade curtain of his hat chiming crisply. “I kill Great Demons first for revenge, and to find my Elder Brother’s… remains. Second, to rid the people of evil, so no one else loses their family to a Great Demon as I did.”

Lu Qi froze.

Lin Zhuoyu looked back at him and said with feeling, “If I had come sooner, perhaps you wouldn’t have had to suffer this.”

For a moment, Lu Qi seemed struck by that weightless sentence, unsure how to react, and could only force a smile.

The instant Lin Zhuoyu turned away, he stared fixedly, irritably, at that thin back, and a vicious thought rose unbidden in his mind.

A hypocrite in righteous robes.

All those pretty words—and nothing more than a pampered fool who had never known the world.

The moment life and death hang in the balance, the righteousness vanishes, the goodness gets swallowed, and nothing remains but every ugly face of the will to survive.