◎ Linked Azure Water. ◎
Thunder rumbled.
Trees of fire and flowers of silver; the world wrapped in white. A Snow Deer came treading through snow, hooves kicking up spray atop the mountain peak — by the time the snow settled, the Snow Deer had become a man in white robes.
“The oriole is dead,” the Snow Deer Physician said.
Amid the goose-feather snow, Feng Beihe looked down at the unfinished endgame on the stone table, not even lifting his eyelids. “Mm.”
The Snow Deer Physician frowned, the cinnabar dot between his brows seeming about to bleed. “The Venerable has hinted, openly and otherwise, that you are the best candidate to succeed him as Venerable. Why take such a risk…”
Before he could finish, the black stone in Feng Beihe’s fingers spun twice — and when it returned to his palm, it had become a brilliant golden plume.
The Snow Deer Physician’s gaze fell on that Golden Plume, and he shivered involuntarily.
It was the Venerable’s reward.
The Venerable was mercurial, obsessive and murder-crazed above all, fondest of setting birds and beasts off as fireworks.
Back when he fought his way up to the Nine Heavens, the three clans sworn to the previous Venerable — Azure Luan, Vermilion Crane, Peacock — had cowered like quail, every bird for itself.
All had trembled, certain this blood-blinded Venerable would vent his wrath upon the three clans.
But against all expectation, the Venerable had no intention of slaughtering them.
The white-robed Venerable sat upon the cloud seat — the previous Venerable’s blood still upon the head seat. Those golden eyes swept over the terrified faces below, and he suddenly burst out laughing.
Like a mortal amusing children at the New Year, he raised a hand, pointed at three boys with young faces, and said with a smile: “Whichever of you three gathers the most Golden Plumes — when I pass, he shall be the next Venerable.”
Not virtue, not wit, not cultivation — but who could flatter him best.
To the three Clan Masters this was a humiliation beyond bearing — yet they had no choice but to go grovel for those “Golden Plumes,” like monkeys made to perform.
For the bait on the hook was too tempting.
— The seat of the Supreme Immortal Venerable. Who didn’t want it?
And now Feng Beihe had sent an oriole to the Nine Heavens to assassinate the Venerable — and the man hadn’t raged, had even rewarded him with a Golden Plume?!
“He doesn’t care which of the three clans gathers the most plumes, nor who inherits his seat.”
Feng Beihe turned the Golden Plume back into a chess piece without much interest and flicked it onto the board with a click, sealing off the white stones’ last path of life.
“A madman like that only wants the world in chaos.”
If the Venerable had raged at Feng Beihe for trying to kill him, he would be no different from any common man.
Madmen chase chaos — then chaos was what Feng Beihe would give him.
Feng Beihe finished the game against himself, picked up the Golden Plume, and placed it into the jade vase on the table.
For those who ape refinement, even without loving plum blossoms, in snow like this one would set a red plum sprig in a jade vase to match the mood.
But in Feng Beihe’s vase, fit for a man carved of snow, sat a single blade of green grass.
Even in the heavy snow, the grass remained tender, green, and alive.
Feng Beihe’s fingers brushed the tender green leaf, his voice colder than the wind and snow. “Some days ago, while I was recovering, the Azure Luan stole the Linked Azure Water.”
“The Linked Azure Water?”
“Mm. It’s on the White Sparrow.” Feng Beihe’s fingertip rested on the leaf tip as he said offhandedly, “Send word to the Nine Heavens. Bring back my Linked Azure Water.”
The Snow Deer hesitated. “But… to forcibly seize the Linked Azure Water on the Nine Heavens…”
“The contest between the three clans has my Venerated Father’s tacit blessing.” Feng Beihe said. “He loves watching that sort of mutual slaughter — all the more when it is fought beneath his very eyes.”
The Snow Deer could only agree.
“The Linked Azure Water,” Feng Beihe said coldly, “— is the only thing that can truly send my Venerated Father to the Nether Realm.”
Calling him “Venerated Father” so fondly — while committing patricide.
The snow fell harder. He looked down at the jade vase glimmering with faint blue light and gave it a light flick.
A crisp ding.
From the vase, the leaf suddenly burst into a cluster of brilliant red flowers.
On the Nine Heavens.
Fu Yuqiu suddenly clapped his wings over his ears, feeling as if shut inside a great bell and struck a savage blow — his skull buzzing.
“Don’t get distracted.”
Yun Shou sprawled on the jade dais, plucked a blade of Spirit Grass, and teased Fu Yuqiu up and down like a pet. He hummed a couple of bars.
“‘…the linked lotus autumn has come’ — two more lines to learn. It has been a whole afternoon and you’re still this listless. Do you want the Venerable’s favor or not?”
Fu Yuqiu gave him a listless glance, refusing to engage.
Favor? Nothing but playing the cute pet.
Had it been any other bird, Yun Shou would long since have bared his teeth in threat.
But the Venerable’s attitude toward this White Sparrow was peculiar, and he couldn’t yet gauge the bird’s standing in the Venerable’s heart — so he could only patiently trill the little song, hoping to teach him.
“The linked lotus autumn has come; warm jade births snowy mist.”
Fu Yuqiu buried both claws in his fluffy feathers and, small face wooden, pecked water from the jade dish.
Nearly dying of thirst in the Sand Mustard had made Fu Yuqiu love water more than ever; he nodded away, drinking constantly.
Only, a bird drank by pecking a tiny mouthful and swallowing — nothing like a secluded grass’s rootlets drinking their fill in an instant.
To drink his fill, Fu Yuqiu nearly nodded his head into mush.
Yun Shou was still caterwauling the little tune.
Fu Yuqiu knew that song — a mournful little ditty mortals often sang. About a widower, it seemed.
What on earth was wrong with that Venerable, liking this song?
Had he lost a Dao Companion?
Water drunk to satisfaction, Fu Yuqiu stood one-legged on the jade rim of the water dish, paddling at the water with a single claw, trying to recapture that root-sipping sense of safety.
All afternoon, Yun Shou diligently taught singing, and Fu Yuqiu earnestly paddled.
Soon, night fell.
The Wind-Divining Chimes began ringing densely again. Yun Shou sprang up, gave the cage a shake, and nearly jolted Fu Yuqiu sick.
“Wake up. Time for your ‘night attendance.'”
Fu Yuqiu: “…”
He and this dragon were sworn enemies.
If he self-detonated his Spirit Core, he would blow this dragon up first, then that Living Yama.
“You should know the song by now,” said Yun Shou. “I’ve sung it so many times — even a mortal bird would have learned it by now.”
Fu Yuqiu snorted at him.
Learned it, yes. Chirp it, never.
Afraid the Venerable would blame him, Yun Shou lifted the cage and brought his face level with Fu Yuqiu, steeling himself to bare his teeth: “If you can’t sing tonight, I’ll eat you in one bite!”
Fu Yuqiu gave a cold chirp, small face set, backing a few steps.
Then he sprinted, round body launching into the water dish in a perfect belly-flop.
Boom.
Water splashed everywhere — splattering Yun Shou full in the face.
Yun Shou: “…”
Yun Shou was a hot-tempered dragon. Teal scales immediately surfaced along his cheek as he roared, “I’ll eat you!!!”
“What are you yelling about?” Yun Gui followed, frowning, scolding, “No shouting. Careful the Venerable doesn’t punish you again.”
Yun Shou’s temper deflated instantly; he glared murder at the White Sparrow.
Fu Yuqiu lounged serenely in the water dish, ignoring him entirely.
He had figured it out: as long as the Venerable didn’t plan to set him off as fireworks, this dragon could do nothing to him.
Ahead lay the Venerable’s sleeping hall — even more lavish than the great hall they had seen by day.
Yun Shou, face dark, carried the cage inside, crudely pinched Fu Yuqiu out of the water dish, and slapped him haphazardly onto the wooden perch.
Half his body was soaked. The White Sparrow’s instincts made him shake violently, feathers flaring, water spraying everywhere.
“Chirp-weep.”
Yun Shou shot him a glare and stalked off, fuming.
The outer chamber of the Venerable’s sleeping hall blazed with light — candles everywhere, bright as day.
But not a soul was in sight.
Fu Yuqiu wobbled on the perch; before long he couldn’t hold his balance, let out a “jeep,” and toppled straight off.
The round body hit the floor and rolled several times before stopping.
Too lazy to get up, Fu Yuqiu simply lay there claws skyward, staring blankly at an overhead candle flame, thoughts wandering.
“My Spirit Core is linked to my elder brother and younger brother. If they knew, they would be heartbroken.”
— Granted, the three of them met once in many years, but they had grown from the same rotted stump after all.
Fu Yuqiu wanted to leave the Nine Heavens and return to the Secluded Sound Valley, but that mercurial Venerable would surely never let him go easily.
And he — an “ice-cold assassin” come to murder the Venerable — if discovered, would surely end up like the oriole that day, set alight as a firework.
At that thought, he gave a worried, angry chirp.
Which only made him angrier.
Perhaps addled by anger, Fu Yuqiu even felt the world doubling before his eyes, that overhead flame seeming to fall toward him, firelight drawing ever closer.
Fu Yuqiu suddenly realized.
Closer?
He focused — the doubling wasn’t a delusion at all: a blazing ball of fire was plummeting straight for his head!
Fu Yuqiu: “…”
Too fat even to sit up easily, Fu Yuqiu — from who knew where the flash of cleverness came — flipped his body violently and rolled clear like a snowball.
The next instant, the fireball crashed down.
The jade floor hissed, spiderweb cracks splintering outward.
Sparks scattered.
Fu Yuqiu sprang up, heart still hammering.
A second slower, and the cracked thing would have been his skull.
The fire still burned; the sparrow was close enough that his down nearly curled from the heat.
That scorching heat dragged Fu Yuqiu unavoidably back to those unbearable seven days imprisoned in Feng Beihe’s Sand Mustard. He shuddered, fury rising to bursting.
“Could you not have drowned me with water instead?!”
Just then, the roar of more blazing fire came thundering at Fu Yuqiu.
— That fireball was bigger than his whole body.
Apparently aiming to roast him to ash, the fireball split one into two, two into four midair, raining down dense as a spiderweb.
Fu Yuqiu flapped with everything he had.
But this White Sparrow shell was both useless and fat — less “dodging” than “rolling.”
The inner chamber of the sleeping hall, one wall away.
The white-robed Venerable looked down, fingers toying with the strings of a konghou, long hair loose over snow-white robes — indescribably serene and gentle.
Yun Shou sat cross-legged at his feet, listening to the sounds next door, frowning. “This is the Venerable’s own residence. Feng Beihe goes too far.”
The Venerable played the konghou tune of Fish in the Water, deaf to the racket next door, feathery lashes drooping like raven feathers, faintly smiling — neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
Yun Shou kept staring at the Cloud Mirror before him.
Fu Yuqiu “rolled” in sorry state, his plumage a chaotic mess.
This shell’s nature made him stop at once, spread his wings, and diligently preen the rumpled soft feathers with his little beak.
Two strokes in, Fu Yuqiu came back to himself. Furious, he abandoned grooming, turned his head and spat twice, feeling as though he had chewed a mouthful of his own feathers.
The pause was fatal: a fireball hit him dead center, slamming his snow-white body against the steps with a boom.
“Chirp chirp… weep!”
Fu Yuqiu nearly coughed up blood.
Flames roared, climbing up his long tail plumes — he could even smell the acrid stench of burning feathers.
Fu Yuqiu: “…”
He was really going to become a charcoal-roasted little bird?!
Only then did the fire-spitter lurking in the shadows finally appear.
It stood upon the steps like a living flame, looking down at the dust-covered Fu Yuqiu.
— A Fire Spirit Bird, wreathed in fire from head to tail.
Fu Yuqiu didn’t spare it a glance. He struggled up, and then…
Driven by instinct again, he turned back and preened his wing feathers strenuously with his beak.
Fu Yuqiu: “…”
This shell is insufferable. Self-detonate. Hurry.
The Fire Spirit Bird sneered, “So this is all the Azure Luan Clan’s Little Highness amounts to.”
Fu Yuqiu was mid-“ptoo-ptoo,” spitting out feathers. At that sneer, his beak parted for a retort — and instead he abruptly vomited a mouthful of deep-blue blood.
With that blood, the fire on his tail went out, somehow.
The Fire Spirit Bird hopped gracefully down from the steps and asked coldly, “Where is the Linked Azure Water?”
In all his life, Fu Yuqiu had never been beaten until he vomited blood — by a person… no, by a bird. His fury flared his feathers higher than ever.
Ever since rebirth, it seemed he was angry at this, angry at that — the anger never once let up.
“Give me the Linked Azure Water and I’ll spare your life.” The Fire Spirit Bird spat out a fireball and sneered, “Refuse, and I’ll burn you to ash. I’ll find the Linked Azure Water in your ashes eventually.”
Fu Yuqiu had no idea where the Linked Azure Water was — but even if he had known, he wouldn’t hand it to this bald-tailed chicken roasting him alive.
Outmatched but not outmouthing, he sneered back: “Want it? Come take it yourself.”
The Fire Spirit Bird’s eyes narrowed. “The Junior Venerable guessed right. The Linked Azure Water is indeed on you.”
With that, a single fireball split apart again, in a blink becoming a dense field that ringed Fu Yuqiu entirely.
Fu Yuqiu stayed calm — no matter how wretchedly he dodged, he couldn’t escape anyway.
Coldly sneering, he sent his Spiritual Sense into his Inner Mansion, slowly winding around the deep-blue Spirit Core.
Spirit Core Self-Detonation it is, then.
Charcoal-roasted little birds together — enough to make up a dish.
~
Inner chamber of the sleeping hall.
Watching the sparrow who had splashed water in his face get beaten until vomiting blood, Yun Shou vented a breath of spite, arms crossed, humming smugly.
The Venerable was still puzzling over the konghou tune. Hearing the dragon’s constant humming, he said, “You seem pleased?”
“Very.” Yun Shou made no attempt to hide it, baring his teeth. “Someone should have dealt with this White Sparrow long ago.”
The Venerable wasn’t even looking at the Cloud Mirror. He smiled at the words.
Yun Shou had feared a scolding, and was astonished at the Venerable’s indifference.
This White Sparrow might be trash, but he was still, after all, the Azure Luan Clan’s Little Highness. In the Fire Spirit’s grasp, he had no path to life at all.
By day, the Venerable had doted on the White Sparrow — why so indifferent now?
The Venerable enjoyed watching the three clans slaughter each other, but not one side being crushed unilaterally; only mutual checks and contests were fun.
His fingers hooked the konghou strings, and he said softly, “Dull.”
Burned to ash so easily.
No fun at all.
A White Sparrow’s life, in the Venerable’s eyes, mattered less than a single konghou string.
Seeing Fu Yuqiu refuse to speak no matter what, the Fire Spirit Bird dropped all pretense, commanding countless fireballs to come roaring down on him with a wind of flame.
“You won’t talk? Then I’ll search your ashes!”
Seeing the Venerable had no intention of intervening, Yun Shou simply sat cross-legged and watched openly, eyes shining with anticipation.
“Charcoal-roasted fat little bird. Not bad, not bad!” Yun Shou thought happily. This is what comes of opposing True Dragon Lord!
He still remembered being splashed in the face, and watched with all the more glee.
The fireballs crashed down; flame kicked up smoke and dust, blotting out the sky.
The Cloud Mirror went grey.
Yun Shou hummed a little tune, waiting for the smoke to clear so he could collect his dinner.
Suddenly, a sound like water drops falling into a secluded pool rang out, clear and pleasing.
The konghou string in the Venerable’s hands snapped taut.
From one wall away came no roar of fire, no screams — only the murmur of flowing water.
Yun Shou frowned.
In the Cloud Mirror, the mist slowly parted. The dense fireballs hung in midair — and were abruptly doused by a current appearing from nowhere, wisps of black smoke rising.
The Fire Spirit Bird’s face was pure horror, staring dumbstruck at the White Sparrow slowly emerging from the smoke.
Yun Shou was stunned too — his smugness hadn’t even faded before it froze solid.
Wh… wha-what?
The fire around Fu Yuqiu had vanished; his dust-caked plumes now looked snow-white as freshly washed frost, setting off eyes gone deeper black than ever.
A stream of deep-blue water wound around him, circle after circle.
Fu Yuqiu’s face was blank, his bearing cold and sharp.
Hoh! What is this thing?! he thought.
Water? Where from?
Wasn’t I self-detonating my Spirit Core?
The Fire Spirit Bird was completely dumbfounded.
He hadn’t seen at all where that water came from.
The Azure Luan Clan possessed many Magic Artifacts; the Fire Spirit Bird quickly steadied himself, assuming it was some protective artifact. Opening his beak again, he spewed an even fiercer blast of flame, shooting several zhang into the sky!
Fire hot enough to roast a dragon.
Flames surged heavenward, brighter than all the hall’s candles.
Before the Fire Spirit Bird could gloat, an even more torrential current appeared from nowhere — and this time he finally saw clearly: the water was pouring out of the White Sparrow’s own body!
The azure water became a dragon and ferociously swallowed the several-zhang flame whole.
Fire Spirit Bird: “…”
Yun Shou: “???”
Fu Yuqiu: “!!!”
The Fire Spirit Bird said in horror, “That’s the Linked Az—”
Before he could finish, the Water Dragon gave a roar and engulfed the utterly unprepared Fire Spirit Bird entirely.
Fire-attribute birds and beasts feared water most — submerged directly, the bird screamed heartrendingly.
The deep-blue Water Dragon coiled, wrapping the Fire Spirit Bird seam to seam.
Yun Shou had long since watched gaping.
The Azure Luan governed water; controlling water-element spiritual power was utterly commonplace. But the Azure Luan Clan’s Little Highness was the Nine Heavens’ notorious trash — unable to manage human form, unable even to form a Spirit Core, mocked by all.
Yet now…
Yun Shou stared at the azure current, sucking in a cold breath.
The Azure Luan’s power was water; the Vermilion Crane Clan’s was fire. Though the Fire Spirit Bird was of the Vermilion Crane’s lesser branch, its Secluded Flame was formidable — it could wound even thick-hided dragons.
And now… it had been snuffed out with ease?!
“Zheng—“
A konghou string snapped. The Venerable’s fingertip welled gold-red blood, dripping onto his hem.
The Venerable turned his head toward the White Sparrow in the Cloud Mirror, his golden eyes as if kindled with fire.
