Chapter 30: Black Peng Part 6

Xiang Xian said, “Legends say the White Deer is the god of dreams in the Northern Divine Continent. Ancient Exorcism Division records mention it—appearing with the Cyan Wolf in Qin and Jin times, and even briefly joining the mortal Exorcism Division during the Tang.”

“Exactly,” Xiao Kun said gravely. “The Cyan Wolf and White Deer have deep ties to the Exorcism Division. We might be able to talk properly.”

Xiang Xian leaned on Xiao Kun. He knew Xiao Kun wanted to see if they could recruit the Deer God—it would be a huge help—but it seemed to have urgent matters. “Anyway, if it’s meant to be, we’ll meet again. It told us what happened.”

“Mm.” Xiao Kun said, “Let’s go back and ask the current prefect.”

Though the Black-Winged Great Peng Bird had flown away and the White Deer had vanished, Xiang Xian and Xiao Kun discussed it as they walked. They pieced together most of the truth. The Black-Winged Great Peng had existed for ages and had fallen to demonic corruption for unknown reasons, while the White Deer—whatever grudge it held—was trying to purify it.

They had clashed in the Taihang Mountains. The White Deer was swallowed but couldn’t be fully assimilated, like how it absorbed humans’ power and souls. Thus, the Deer God was stuck in the Black-Winged Great Peng’s crop. The Peng Bird had hidden in the depths of the Chang’an Ancient Waterway ruins to digest it.

While hiding, it encountered Wan Xiang on a rendezvous with the youth named Huo Hong. Huo Hong was devoured, and Wan Xiang fled home in terror, too frightened or incoherent to explain clearly.

Locked in the back courtyard side room, haunted by her lover’s gruesome death, Wan Xiang took her own life.

“Makes sense.” Xiao Kun listened as Xiang Xian pieced together the events.

Xiang Xian said, “Everything the Black-Winged Great Peng Bird eats becomes part of it.”

Wu Yingzong added, “It was the previous Yao King before Ba She—immensely powerful.”

Ancient scrolls rarely mentioned the Great Peng Bird; perhaps the Yao Clan tabooed their former king’s corruption and erased records.

“Are you a phoenix?” A Huang suddenly asked out of the blue.

Xiao Kun halted, glanced at Xiang Xian, who signaled with his eyes to keep walking. Understanding, Xiao Kun continued down the mountain with Xiang Xian toward the prefectural office.

“I don’t know.” Chaosheng extended his hand, letting A Huang perch on his shoulder. He said, “I think… well, your Pulse Wheels are strange—not like ordinary demons’, but… not as powerful as a phoenix either.”

A Huang looked down the mountain and suddenly said, “If I were a phoenix, I’d surely remember the Great Peng Bird no matter what.”

Chaosheng said, “You’re A Huang. Whether you’re a phoenix or not doesn’t matter, right?”

A Huang didn’t answer, fell silent for a moment, then spread its wings and flew away.

Wu Yingzong and Chaosheng held hands and slowly descended the mountain.

Chaosheng suddenly recalled the words Huo Hong shouted in the dream the White Deer showed—when danger struck.

“Run—!”

That deafening voice wondrously overlapped with Wu Yingzong’s desperate shout to Chaosheng from the fissures of the Qingyu Golden Chalice, bound by heavy chains.

Chaosheng kept glancing at Wu Yingzong, who didn’t know what he was thinking and said, “You must be tired. Let’s go back?”

“No,” Chaosheng said seriously. “There are still many people waiting to see the doctor.”

“Good, good.” Wu Yingzong had no principles. “Just go rest if you’re tired.”

Chaosheng suddenly hugged Wu Yingzong, burying his head in his chest.

Wu Yingzong: “?”

Wu Yingzong patted Chaosheng’s head. Chaosheng’s face reddened as he pulled away, vaguely understanding the affection between Wan Xiang and Huo Hong from the dream.

Xiang Xian and Xiao Kun arrived at the prefectural office and questioned the prefect’s secretary. The entire city had been shaken by the battle at the Daming Palace, but since the late Tang, no one lived there—the palace had long been ruined by war, now just ruins.

The prefect dispatched troops to patrol the city, preventing looting or disturbances.

“Wan Xiang, huh.”

There were no records of Wan Xiang in the office—after all, the previous prefect, Wang Chao Ying, wouldn’t have registered buying a concubine. The secretary had been Prefect Wang’s aide and knew the Wang family affairs inside out. After Xiang Xian inquired, he learned Wang Chao Ying had brought his entire household of dozens when assuming office, but this Wan Xiang was bought in Chang’an.

At the time, Wan Xiang had been playing music and performing at the Dancing Phoenix Tower to make ends meet, supposedly saving for redemption money with a childhood sweetheart. Xiang Xian had no further doubts.

As Xiang Xian prepared to close the case, Xiao Kun asked, “Was it called Huo Hong?”

“Well…” The secretary looked troubled. Xiao Kun added, “Is there an assassins’ group in Chang’an City?”

The secretary’s face changed. Knowing Xiao Kun wouldn’t be fooled, he met his gaze. Blue light flickered faintly in Xiao Kun’s eyes. The secretary’s heart chilled and he answered truthfully: “A so-called assassin. Under the wise ruler now, alas, such rabble…”

“What’s the assassin gang called?” Xiao Kun pressed.

The secretary evaded: “They rarely operate in Chang’an—mostly in Qilian and Gannan areas. This Huo Hong had returned from training and took scattered jobs in the city alone. Of course, no vendettas—just debt collection and such.”

Xiang Xian recalled the young assassin’s trained physique from the illusion—not like a common thug.

“The name?” Xiao Kun asked again.

“It’s said to be called the Mo Sect,” the secretary replied, lowering his eyes.

“Case closed,” Xiao Kun said to Xiang Xian.

Xiang Xian spread out a sheet of paper and succinctly wrote down the details of the case. He handed it to the clerk, who went to have the Prefect affix his seal. They then dispatched an express report via the relay station to Kaifeng, thereby closing the case.