Chapter 17: Hateful, Hateful

◎Just eat it already!◎

When Fu Yuqiu finished singing, he stared up at the Immortal Venerable, face full of expectation.

The Phoenix Inheritance!

The Immortal Venerable: “…”

The Immortal Venerable pressed a fingertip lightly against the red plume on the White Sparrow’s brow and smiled faintly. “Well sung.”

Fu Yuqiu was ecstatic.

With that, the Immortal Venerable set the sparrow down on the armrest and swept away.

Fu Yuqiu: “???”

Fu Yuqiu chirped in outraged pursuit. “Where’s the Phoenix Plume?! You said if I sang, you’d give it to me!”

The Immortal Venerable’s robes merged with the mist and he was gone in a blink.

Fu Yuqiu worked himself into another fine temper.

The deal was sing a tune, get a plume—so how was it he’d taken the free performance and bolted?

Could it be… Fu Yuqiu went cold with a start. …he can understand what I’m saying?

But no, that wasn’t right either.

If the Immortal Venerable had understood the meaning of that doggerel—being cursed to his face like that—he would have erupted in rage. There was no way he’d have praised the singing.

At that thought, Fu Yuqiu steadied himself.

Outside the hall, Yun Gui, unable to read the Immortal Venerable’s mood, saw the White Sparrow still standing on the Immortal Venerable’s personal cloud chair. After long hesitation, she came forward, cupped him in her hands, and moved to return him to his cage.

Just then, the Immortal Venerable’s voice drifted over on a cloud by Yun Gui’s ear. “There’s no need to put him back in the Golden Cage.”

Fu Yuqiu, long accustomed to captivity, tilted his head slightly at that.

Had the Living Yama been charmed into good humor by that little tune?

Fu Yuqiu felt rather put out. Then why hadn’t he been given the Phoenix Inheritance?

Liar.

The Immortal Venerable spoke again. “Seal the Cloud Ladder—from this day forward, within the Nine Heavens, he may go wherever he pleases. Do not bar his way.”

Yun Gui froze, then bowed her head in complicated assent.

Fu Yuqiu, by contrast, perked right up.

Well, shoot! If I’d known a little tune bought this kind of treatment, I’d have been chirping from day one.

Having tasted the sweet fruits of riding a tiger’s prestige, Fu Yuqiu promptly discarded his once-sacred vow never to chirp for his captors.

Nothing if not adaptable.

With the Immortal Venerable’s decree, neither Yun Shou nor Yun Gui dared stop him.

Still, Fu Yuqiu feared the Living Yama’s game might be to let him run thirty-nine zhang before cleaving him with a forty-zhang blade, so he probed carefully, several times over—and found that truly, no one stopped him.

Still refusing to let his guard down, he snuck furtively through the night toward the palace where he’d first found the Phoenix.

He scrambled and tumbled for a good long while, and still no dragon or cloud came to bar his way.

Only then did Fu Yuqiu finally relax, climbing the steps happily with his wings, off to find the Phoenix.

Not a single wisp of cloud or mist surrounded the palace. The red rope that had once been snapped had been replaced with new; countless Wind-Divining Chimes hung from it, weighing the rope into a gentle arc.

When the night wind stirred, they rang out, clear and sweet.

The Nine Heavens’ Cloud Ladder was sealed—even if the two of them escaped, they could only circle within the Nine Heavens—so the doors of the Phoenix’s prison stood wide open, entirely unafraid of rescue.

Fu Yuqiu trotted right in.

In the vast palace, the Phoenix stood quietly at the center of the spell formation, long neck bowed, gazing at a withered flower on the ground, lost in thought.

Unlike last time, no water poured over him.

The formation was dormant. Fu Yuqiu probed its edge with a claw, found no reaction at all, and scampered in excitedly, hopping up and down and waving his wings.

“Chirp! Chirp chirp!”

The Phoenix surfaced from his thoughts. Seeing the little white fluffball rolling toward him, a cold, dark glint passed through his eyes.

Fu Yuqiu had come bounding over in high spirits—but at that expression, he froze, and then his temper flared instantly.

He sprinted the last few steps, launched himself into the air, and with a “chirp-wee!” let himself slam into the Phoenix like a thrown weapon.

The Phoenix: “…”

Caught off guard, the Phoenix staggered.

“You—”

“I told you to run, so how did you get caught?” Fu Yuqiu had finally found someone who shared his plight, and his voice was equal parts furious and aggrieved. “I’m not even mad yet—what are you mad about?”

The Phoenix: “…”

The Phoenix was silent a long moment, then said quietly, “I’m not angry.”

Fu Yuqiu didn’t believe him. “Yes you are. I saw it plain as day.”

The Phoenix had no choice. “I’m angry, then.”

“Hmph.” Fu Yuqiu bounced up and rammed him again, saying coldly, “And look at the fine mess now—that Living Yama sealed the Cloud Ladder and everything. However badly we want to run, there’s no running anywhere.”

The White Sparrow didn’t even come up to the Phoenix’s leg, chattering away nonstop, instinctively waving his wings about—as if having his wings bound would somehow stop that beak.

The Phoenix watched him babble for a good long while before saying, tone rather cool, “You still want to escape?”

Fu Yuqiu bounced up again, nearly clipping the Phoenix’s chin, and fumed, “I wanted you to escape!”

The Phoenix froze, and something in his eyes gentled. “I’m all right.”

Fu Yuqiu gave him a sidelong look and didn’t nag further.

What was done was done; more words were useless.

He’d run the whole way here with his heart in his throat, and only now did the exhaustion hit him, belated and total.

He plopped down, resting his head against the Phoenix’s leg, and grumbled, “The Spiritual Power in the Nine Heavens is so dense. Can’t you use it to heal your injuries?”

The Phoenix had been standing in dignified repose; the sudden press of a fluffy little body against him made him flinch almost imperceptibly. He lowered his head, looking at the top of Fu Yuqiu’s head.

A long moment passed before he looked awkwardly away and said softly, “N-no. I can’t.”

“Oh.”

That made sense to Fu Yuqiu—if the Phoenix could mend his broken wings, he’d have flown away ages ago. How else would the Living Yama keep him trapped here for torture?

“I hear many people came to the Nine Heavens today,” the Phoenix said. “Did you find the person you were looking for?”

That topic banished all of Fu Yuqiu’s drowsiness. He craned his head back and chirped, “I did! And I did a real number on him, too!”

“Hm? What did you do?”

The mere memory of Feng Beihe’s pale, coffin-face prostrate on the ground coughing blood filled Fu Yuqiu with glee, and he launched into the full tale of how he’d framed the man with fake crying, little beak flapping a mile a minute.

The Phoenix watched him, smiling. “And then?”

“Then the Living Yama made me sing him a tune. So I sang that doggerel someone taught me and cursed him out.”

The Phoenix: “…”

The more Fu Yuqiu told it, the happier he got, laughing in little chirps where he stood—even his chirping laugh had rhythm and lilt; one listen and you could feel his joy.

“The Living Yama can’t understand a word I chirp—he even praised my singing!”

The Phoenix: “…………”

Only when the Phoenix sat there mute as a stone did Fu Yuqiu remember—this silly bird still had feelings for the Living Yama.

He curled his lip and reluctantly changed the subject. “I saw the Living Yama holding some Phoenix Inheritance on his hand today. Is that yours?”

The Phoenix said evenly, “It is the inheritance left behind in the Phoenix Ruins.”

Fu Yuqiu nodded, half-understanding, thoughtful.

Seeing those black bean-eyes whirling—plainly scheming after that plume—the Phoenix’s brow knotted hard, and the look he fixed on Fu Yuqiu grew colder and colder.

The Phoenix Inheritance. Every bird and beast with even a drop of Phoenix blood coveted it, dreamed of soaring to heaven on its strength.

This White Sparrow… was evidently no different.

Something passed through the Phoenix’s mind. Without warning, he drew his leg back, and the fluffball leaning against it rolled helplessly backward, tumbling a full circle.

Fu Yuqiu climbed up, bewildered, peering around as if unable to fathom how he’d just toppled over.

The Phoenix watched him with cold detachment.

But Fu Yuqiu tumbled even when he walked, and didn’t dwell on it.

His gaze landed on the Phoenix’s broken wings, and he looked up and said earnestly, “Then if I got the Phoenix Inheritance, your wings could actually heal, right?”

The Phoenix froze.

“They should, right?” Fu Yuqiu hurried on. “Those three whatever-they’re-called Junior Venerables prize it so much—it has to be something good.”

The Phoenix seemed unable to believe it. A long while passed before he said quietly, “You want… to give it to me?”

“Mm!”

The wounds where the wings had been broken were old and deep beyond measure, but the agony of being snapped alive like kindling was a nightmare that still spread through every limb and bone.

The Phoenix stared down, dazed, at the White Sparrow gazing so earnestly back at him—and when his eyes met that pure, earnest gaze, his golden pupils contracted faintly.

“Chirp? Chirp chirp?” Fu Yuqiu tugged anxiously at him with a wing. “Well? Can they or can’t they?”

The Phoenix’s sharp beak parted slightly, as if to say something.

He hesitated, stopped, hesitated—and at last gave one small nod, meaning: they can.

Fu Yuqiu lit up at once—happier even than he’d been at his own successful escape from the Nine Heavens.

The Phoenix watched that beaming little face, his expression unreadable.

He could see that this sparrow truly meant to win the Phoenix Inheritance to heal his wings…

And precisely because he could see it, the more lost he felt.

The Phoenix Inheritance…

He truly didn’t want it for himself? Not at all?

Having settled the matter, Fu Yuqiu didn’t linger long in the Phoenix’s prison.

As the sky began to pale, he waved a wing. “Then I’ll come back tomorrow night.”

The Phoenix nodded.

Fu Yuqiu waddled off.

The Phoenix watched that round little body dwindle into the distance—and in his golden eyes, for once, surfaced faint, almost imperceptible shards of light.

Day broke bright and clear.

Fu Yuqiu pattered back to the side hall, and before he could catch his breath, Yun Shou scooped him up and carried him off to the Nine Heavens’ main hall.

The Immortal Venerable sat enthroned on the cloud chair, his layered robes white as cloud, nobility and grace his by nature rather than effort.

At the sight of the sparrow approaching, he beckoned, lifted him onto his knee, and stroked Fu Yuqiu’s head with mild affection.

Fu Yuqiu played the obedient child, tilting his head to look up at him.

Compared to before, the Living Yama seemed… in an even better mood?

One little tune had this kind of effect?!

Fu Yuqiu was floored.

The Immortal Venerable said mildly, “Sing another tune.”

At that, Fu Yuqiu opened his beak at once.

“Living Ya—mmph!”

The Immortal Venerable’s hand shot out and pinched the tiny beak shut. “Not yesterday’s. Sing a new one.”

Fu Yuqiu curled his lip and, resigned, obliged with a fresh composition.

He chirped and chirped.

“Crook-necked man-eating tree, vicious to the bone and never touches a leaf—”

“And the Living Yama, see, sputters and fumes from morning till eve—”

“Hateful, hateful!”

The Immortal Venerable: “…………”

The Immortal Venerable pinched that chattering beak shut once more, smiling in a way that was equal parts gentle and terrifying. “This one, too, was well sung—here, a reward for you.”

Fu Yuqiu looked up at him happily, no longer minding the pinched beak at all.

A reward?

Was he finally getting the Phoenix Inheritance?

The Immortal Venerable reached into the Clay Urn at his side and drew out a Snow Silkworm, holding it before Fu Yuqiu. “A century-old Snow Silkworm. A supreme tonic, not to be chanced upon but once in a lifetime—eat up.”

Fu Yuqiu: “…”

Fu Yuqiu: “CHIRP—”

Disgust made his pupils shudder violently; he very nearly sprayed the Immortal Venerable with water a second time.

The Immortal Venerable watched with a faint smile as the sparrow wilted and collapsed listlessly against his knee, his mood seeming to improve further still.

Yun Shou stood nearby, silent as a winter cicada, overcome by the feeling that the Immortal Venerable treated this White Sparrow…

Far, far too specially.

Night fell.

The Phoenix listened to the sound of the Wind-Divining Chimes, gauging the hour of the sparrow’s visit.

But he waited and waited—if the sparrow had to crawl, he should have crawled here by now—and still not a shadow appeared outside.

The Phoenix’s brow creased faintly.

Just then, a small sound finally came from beyond the hall.

Fu Yuqiu trudged in from outside, sickly and listless, each step heavy.

Stranger still, a rope hung around his neck—and trailing behind his tail feathers was some tiny object.

—It was the size of a little finger, wrapped in layer upon layer of paper, tied down tight with the rope, dragging behind as the sparrow hauled it in with all his strength.

The Phoenix asked, “What did you bring?”

Fu Yuqiu shuffled over to the Phoenix’s side and said glumly, “For you.”

“For me?”

Fu Yuqiu nodded. He was just opening his beak when the thing behind him gave a sudden violent flap and nearly dragged Fu Yuqiu’s round little body right off his feet.

The Phoenix stamped a claw down on the rope behind him, sparing the sparrow a tumble.

Looking at that paper-wrapped something still kicking and squirming, the Phoenix felt that something was deeply, deeply wrong.

Sure enough, Fu Yuqiu flung the rope aside, planted his wings against the Phoenix’s leg, and said, trembling:

“Th-that that that’s the Snow Silkworm the Living Yama gave me. They say it’s a supreme tonic. You’re still injured, so I dra-dragged it all the way here. Sob… Just go eat it already!“

The Phoenix: “…”