◎That chattering little beak.◎
The four doubted their own ears.
What did he mean by…
“Cheering up my little sparrow”?
The sparrow himself was utterly dumbfounded.
Had the madman taken three pecks to the hand and lost his powers of speech?
Shouldn’t it have been “whichever of you tortures and kills this White Sparrow most cruelly shall have the Phoenix Inheritance”?
The Immortal Venerable raised a hand, summoning a small cloud, and laid the sparrow on his knee gently down upon it.
The cloud bore the bewildered Fu Yuqiu drifting leisurely over to the three men, its meaning plain: Gentlemen—the coaxing may begin.
The four: “…”
Fu Yuqiu: “…”
The Yuanchu Presiding Venerable Ming Nan had no interest whatsoever in the Three Clans’ rivalry or the Phoenix Inheritance. He cast the three a haughty glance, rose, gathered his robes, and clattered up the steps without a backward look.
The Yuanchu were different from the Three Clans—they needn’t compete to receive the Immortal Venerable’s favor.
Only three remained, facing each other across a White Sparrow that would not stop weeping.
For years, the Immortal Venerable had strung the Three Clans along with a single Golden Plume—sometimes assigning the Junior Venerables quests for spirit treasures, sometimes assigning meaningless busywork that felt like teasing a monkey.
Stranger still: even for matters of no consequence whatsoever, the Immortal Venerable would cheerfully bestow a Golden Plume.
The three had long since grown used to the Immortal Venerable’s inscrutable whims. But this…
Coax a White Sparrow?
The Immortal Venerable never went back on his word.
If someone truly did soothe this sobbing sparrow, he really would hand half the Phoenix Inheritance over as casually as tossing a scrap.
For a single Golden Plume, Feng Xuesheng couldn’t have been bothered to compete—but this time the prize was the Phoenix Inheritance that countless beings coveted.
Even half the Phoenix Inheritance would secure the Immortal Venerable’s seat for its holder, beyond any doubt.
Feng Xuesheng listlessly raised his head and transformed into his true form without a word.
—In human shape he seemed gloomy and unremarkable, but his Peacock form was magnificence itself.
The White Sparrow nestled in the cloud blinked at him, tears still pattering down.
What’s this supposed to be? Fu Yuqiu wondered.
Feng Xuesheng gave his plumes a slight shake, and lines of gold and green shimmered in dazzling, resplendent color as his tail slowly fanned open.
It was Fu Yuqiu’s first time seeing a Peacock display. His eyes watered at the brilliance.
A Peacock’s courtship fan was beautiful, admittedly.
But Fu Yuqiu despised birds at his core, and remained entirely unmoved, dragging his gaze away with frosty disdain.
All glitter, no substance. Shameless strutting.
That dog of a man said the White Snake fled to Painted Screen Snow Mountain. For all I know, this flashy peacock is the very one who used a snake to nearly swallow me last time. Tears streamed down expressionlessly; nothing could sway him.
Feng Xuesheng didn’t try again. He silently resumed human form and lowered his head, saying nothing.
I truly am a piece of trash, he thought.
At last, Feng Xingyun, who had been watching quietly, spoke. He extended a hand toward the sparrow. “Come.”
The White Sparrow belonged to the Azure Luan Clan—the Azure Luan Junior Venerable held the greatest advantage here.
Since cracking from his shell, the White Sparrow had been a simple-minded little fool who doted on his elder brothers and sister. Before coming to the Nine Heavens, he had depended utterly on Feng Xingyun.
The cloud carried the sparrow over, drifting toward Feng Xingyun’s slender fingers.
Contrary to all expectation, the sparrow bent down and gently nuzzled the man’s fingers with his beak—and his tears even seemed on the verge of stopping.
Feng Beihe and Feng Xuesheng both frowned.
Feng Xingyun, unnoticed, let out a breath.
Even if he had sent the White Sparrow to the Nine Heavens to die, they were still bound by blood. The sparrow…
Feng Xingyun hadn’t finished the thought when a sharp pain shot through his finger.
—The sparrow nuzzling his finger had suddenly bitten down in a vicious peck.
A White Sparrow’s beak might be tender, but pecked with intent, it could draw blood even from the Immortal Venerable’s hand—let alone Feng Xingyun’s finger.
In the space of a blink, blood the deep blue-tinged red of the Azure Luan welled up between Feng Xingyun’s fingers.
The warmth on Feng Xingyun’s face could no longer hold. He looked at the sparrow, cold.
Fu Yuqiu well remembered that this was the man who had sent the White Sparrow to the Nine Heavens to die—and who had seemingly poisoned this shell besides.
The White Sparrow glared at him in fury.
Vengeance for every slight was his creed, and he had no intention of letting this man off easy.
Feng Xingyun’s brow knotted, as if he might reach out and seize him—but the cloud scurried Fu Yuqiu out of reach at once.
The last of the four was Feng Beihe, kneeling respectfully on the ground.
Different shell though it was, the aura that belonged to Feng Beihe alone remained cold and remote—leaving one to wonder why a man of the fire-wielding Vermilion Crane Clan should carry an air of frost and snow.
Fu Yuqiu stood on the cloud, locking eyes with Feng Beihe in silence.
Atop the cloud chair—
The Immortal Venerable propped his cheek on one elbow, watching the spectacle below with evident relish, as if beholding a rare and excellent play.
The Yuanchu Presiding Venerable Ming Nan knelt lightly beside the cloud chair, gazing up. “Venerable One.”
The Immortal Venerable’s gaze settled on him, and he smiled faintly. “Does Ming Nan not want the Phoenix Inheritance? Why not go and try?”
“I have no need of the Phoenix Inheritance.” Ming Nan’s eyes fairly glowed as he looked at the Immortal Venerable, haughty as ever. “Ming Nan wants only the Venerable One’s protection.”
Beside them, Yun Shou curled his lip.
If not for the Yuanchu Young Clan Master having once thrown away his own life to save the Immortal Venerable, how could Ming Nan—a Useless Beauty with nothing to his name but a face—ever have caught the Immortal Venerable’s eye?
And he called himself the Yuanchu Presiding Venerable?
Capable of nothing—just a vase put on display for its looks.
Ming Nan truly was beautiful, and what he prided himself on most was that beauty, unmatched in all the Three Realms.
He knew exactly how to please the Immortal Venerable. Every visit to the Nine Heavens, he arrived dressed to the nines in his finest blossoms, and the Immortal Venerable would be charmed precisely as predicted, eyes brimming with tenderness.
The Immortal Venerable seemed genuinely amused by him, softness pooling in his gaze. He even reached out to caress Ming Nan’s cheek.
Ming Nan smiled in self-satisfaction.
The Immortal Venerable’s eyes were tender as still water as he reached up, idly hooking the long braid draped over Ming Nan’s shoulder, his voice as gentle as ever.
“Are you imitating him?”
Ming Nan blinked, all innocence. “What is the Venerable One saying? I would never—”
Before the words finished, a cluster of golden-red flames erupted from the floor, engulfing the delicate beauty in an instant—witless of any tender regard for loveliness.
“AAAHH—!!”
Ming Nan was a Yuanchu—nearly half Phoenix blood ran in his veins.
Even so, the flames that had materialized from thin air left him shaking head to toe, a muffled shriek tearing loose despite himself.
The fire consumed him whole. His dazzling yellow outer robe burned to ash in moments, the blossoms in his braid withered rapidly, his hair-sash charred away, ink-dark hair spilling loose—a picture of utter ruin.
“A beautiful vase belongs properly on a jade pedestal, to be admired.” The Immortal Venerable’s voice was soft as ever. “If someone brushed it off and it shattered to pieces—what a pity that would be. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Ming Nan trembled all over, and managed a jerky nod.
Yun Shou, standing off to the side, savored a deep, vicious satisfaction.
Serves him right.
The Immortal Venerable’s gaze on Ming Nan remained mild. “You said just now that you want my protection?”
The tide-like pressure receded. Ming Nan sagged with released breath, panting hard for a long while before answering, “Yes—the Drifting Path is dreadful. I don’t want to live there.”
Ming Nan understood the Immortal Venerable’s temperament perfectly well: cringing obedience would earn no pity, whereas haughty audacity intrigued him.
More than that, the debt of the Yuanchu Young Clan Master’s sacrifice gave him the standing to behave as brazenly as he pleased.
The Immortal Venerable would never kill him, after all.
Even after being scorched by fire mere moments ago, Ming Nan could act as if nothing had happened and make demands to his face.
And the Immortal Venerable indulged him. “Then where would you like to live?”
“Didn’t you say a beautiful vase belongs on a jade pedestal, Venerable One? Then I want to live in the Nine Heavens.” Ming Nan met his eyes without so much as a blink.
The Immortal Venerable smiled and opened his mouth to answer—when a heart-rending wail suddenly tore through the vast hall.
—Fu Yuqiu.
The snow-white fluffball had been knocked clean off his cloud, slamming to the floor, bouncing several times and rolling a few more before coming to a stop.
The Immortal Venerable’s brow creased.
Feng Beihe, facing the sparrow directly, went still, frowning—a terrible premonition rising in him.
The fallen sparrow struggled upright, tears streaming harder than ever. Practically flapping and tumbling his way up the steps, wings and claws alike scrabbling, he scrambled wretchedly to the Immortal Venerable’s side.
Everywhere the White Sparrow passed was dotted with tiny teardrops.
Fu Yuqiu hooked the Immortal Venerable’s robe hem with wings and claws both, hauling himself upward for dear life.
The Immortal Venerable’s face darkened. Before the sparrow could even reach his knee, he gently scooped him up into his palm.
Fu Yuqiu was crying so hard he nearly hiccupped himself unconscious, tears falling in sheets, his hoarse little voice letting out sorrowful, piercing “chirp chirps” one after another—tattling to him as though he’d suffered the greatest wrong in the world.
Everyone: “…”
Seeing that the sparrow hadn’t been soothed at all but had only cried harder, the Immortal Venerable frowned and wiped his dripping little face.
Fu Yuqiu sobbed, barely able to draw breath.
When the tears refused to wipe away no matter what, the Immortal Venerable—perhaps genuinely irritated now—lifted his head and swept a cold glance over the three below.
The clouds and mist filling the hall churned violently, as though lashed by a sudden gale.
The crushing pressure swept indiscriminately across everyone present.
Feng Beihe bore the brunt. His already gravely wounded body convulsed; kneeling on one knee in salute, he was driven by that blood-borne pressure straight down onto both knees.
Knee met hard jade with a muffled thud, cracks spiderwebbing across the floor.
His forehead pressed deep to the ground, and he coughed up a mouthful of blood.
Feng Xingyun and Feng Xuesheng bowed their heads deeply as well. Resist though they might, that bloodline’s crushing dominion left them both shaking.
Yun Gui and Yun Shou had already dropped to the ground, faces full of shock.
They had followed the Immortal Venerable all this time, and never once had they seen him lose his temper like this.
Even when assassins came to the Nine Heavens, the Immortal Venerable’s emotions never showed on his face—he set birds and beasts alight as fireworks smiling.
Never like this…
The Immortal Venerable lowered his head and unhurriedly wiped the sparrow’s tears, his voice flat. “Useless trash.”
Not one of the three had ever been called trash by the Immortal Venerable before. Their faces turned ugly.
Fu Yuqiu, wholly unaffected by the pressure, bawled his fake tears while scheming away inside.
Not one of you will ever lay hands on that inheritance. He glared hatefully at the three schemers—resentment now extending to the Immortal Venerable too. That belongs to the Phoenix!
Through tear-blurred eyes, he dimly watched Feng Beihe kneel coughing blood, more wretched than Fu Yuqiu had ever seen him—and it felt so gloriously satisfying his scalp nearly lifted off.
The Living Yama was hateful, sure—but riding a tiger’s prestige worked wonders.
Even if the Living Yama did kill him for it, he was dragging Feng Beihe down to hell with him.
The Immortal Venerable raised his head with an air of distaste and flicked his sleeve.
Though the three seemed unwilling, none dared breathe half a word before the Immortal Venerable in his rare and thunderous rage. They rose slowly, saluted, and left the hall.
Fu Yuqiu had never expected to crush Feng Beihe in one blow anyway. He watched him leave with cold eyes.
Ming Nan still knelt by the cloud chair. He stared at the White Sparrow standing on the Immortal Venerable’s knee, brow furrowing hard.
The Immortal Venerable treated this sparrow… differently.
“Granted,” the Immortal Venerable said.
Ming Nan blinked, then realized the Immortal Venerable was answering his earlier request—he could live in the Nine Heavens.
Delight flooded him. “My deepest thanks, Venerable One.”
The Immortal Venerable was still dabbing at the sparrow’s tears, and didn’t lift his head. “Yun Shou. Take him to Resonant Stream Hall.”
Yun Shou: “As you command.”
Resonant Stream Hall lay far from the Nine Heavens’ main hall, but Ming Nan was more than satisfied, and left happily in Yun Shou’s wake.
Before long, only the Immortal Venerable and Fu Yuqiu remained in the vast hall.
With inexhaustible patience, the Immortal Venerable finally finished wiping Fu Yuqiu’s tears.
Seeing that the red-rimmed eyes had at last stopped streaming, the Immortal Venerable smiled. “Don’t you sing quite nicely?”
Fu Yuqiu: “…”
Fu Yuqiu was exhausted from crying and gave him a listless sideways look.
What kind of ears did this Living Yama have? That had been fake-crying and wailing—since when was that singing?
“Since your voice has recovered, sing me a little tune, then,” the Immortal Venerable said.
Fu Yuqiu steeled himself to chirp—then decided that was too great an indignity, and just glared at the Immortal Venerable, belligerent.
Seeing that the sparrow wasn’t even bothering to pretend anymore, the Immortal Venerable chuckled. He picked up the Phoenix Inheritance and deliberately dangled it before Fu Yuqiu’s eyes, waving it back and forth like a grown-up teasing a child with candy.
“If you sing well, this plume is yours.”
Fu Yuqiu: “???”
Fu Yuqiu instantly caught fire.
The Phoenix Inheritance!
Something those three were falling over themselves to seize had to be treasure indeed.
If he got this plume into the Phoenix’s grasp, maybe those broken wings could finally be mended.
Fu Yuqiu perked right up, no longer felt any shame in chirping whatsoever.
—It wasn’t as if the Immortal Venerable could understand a word he said anyway.
He drew a small breath and began chirping for the Immortal Venerable in earnest.
“Living Yama, smiling tiger, the Old Tree blooms but its fruit is bitter—”
“Withered branch and withered vine, bears a fruit and binds it up with twine—”
“Useless, useless!”
He layered curses and maledictions into every note, but out loud it was nothing but that sweet, silvery chirping. Anyone overhearing would truly have believed him singing his heart out to delight the Immortal Venerable.
At the very first line, the Immortal Venerable’s hand—mid-stroke of tears from the sparrow’s feathers—stopped dead, golden eyes resting on him, cool and quiet.
