The little golden dragon spoke into Xue Cuo’s mind: [Oh no, Eldest shixiong. There’s a marriage god in this city. Your Dharma body is far too exalted. Saying you’ve a wife may have broken some taboo. All those Xianghuo gods must have caught your scent and come running.]
Xue Cuo was startled: [You know about that sort of thing?]
The little dragon’s tail flicked, leaving faint afterimages: [But of course. This junior once kept a library of ten thousand scrolls upon Dragon God Mountain.]
[You enjoy reading books too?]
All of a sudden, an aged voice interrupted, making them both jump. The little golden dragon recovered first, peering cautiously at the tortoise shell and asking: [Was that you?]
[Ho ho, my name is Xuan Zhao.]
The little golden dragon let out an “aiya” of disbelief. [Xuan Zhao! Master Xuan! You’re the famous Xuanhai Divine Turtle who single-handedly fought the Mahayana cultivators and turned the Divine River upside down!]
Turned the Divine River upside down?
Xue Cuo couldn’t help recalling that yellow-robed deity who had accused the Golden Crow God of cheating and the Her Ladyship of being stingy. He wondered if this was the very reason the great turtle had “peacefully passed away”.
After all, what river could a great turtle possibly live in, if the Divine River itself had been overturned……
The old voice gave a disdainful snort, though the tone held approval. [Those cultivators are a detestable lot. But you’re a clever one for your age. You even know of me? What books have you read? How many words do you recognise?]
[This junior has dabbled in most Daoist classics. My favourites are <<The Demon’s Companion>>, << The Tale of the Peacock>>, and <<The Dragon and the Tortoise at Headland Pier>>.]
[Not bad, not bad. And you?]
Who?
Reading?
Read what books?
Xue Cuo cleared his throat with an entirely upright air, though his face reddened slightly as he clarified: [I’ve travelled often these past few years. I haven’t had much leisure for reading.]
The little dragon piped up at once, like a tiny herald trumpet. [That’s right! Eldest shixiong’s learning is vast beyond measure. He doesn’t need to read!]
Xuan Zhao gave two dry chuckles.
The little dragon coiled his cloudlike tail proudly. “Master Xuan, from now on, in Eldest shixiong’s robes, you’ll rank second. I’ll be third. I’ll even polish your shell for you!]
Xue Cuo: “…”
The little dragon continued earnestly, [Truly! I’ve secretly refined his clothes. They can hold countless treasures! Here, Master Xuan, have some tea, have a snack!]
Who allowed you to refine my clothes?! And when did you start stuffing food and drink in there?
Xuan Zhao drawled, [Oh? Light a candle. Let me have a look.]
The little dragon chirped, [Right away!]
Xue Cuo was dumbstruck. He distinctly heard the faint hiss of burning incense and candles… yet felt nothing at all. What in the heavens had that little nosy Ao Mu done to his robe?!
Just then, Xue Cuo heard the little dragon whisper gleefully, [Eldest shixiong! That old turtle must know all sorts of secrets, maybe even Dragon Palace treasures! Just wait till I trick him into telling me. In here, I’m ranked second, he’s third. Apparently, it’s that easy for him to have fallen for it! Hahaha!]
If Xuan Zhao couldn’t hear that, it would be a miracle.
Xue Cuo said solemnly, “Xiao Mu, the Great Deity Xuan Zhao is virtuous and venerable. You mustn’t deceive him.”
The little dragon wagged his tail with self-satisfaction. “The waves of the Yangtze push ever forward. He’s old and…”
The dragon’s voice abruptly vanished.
Expressionless, Xue Cuo thought: Little scoundrel. That’s what you get for refining my robe!
He reached into his chest, and that same strange vastness bloomed again… boundless, immense. Forget candles and incense; even a pond or a small lake could fit inside with room to spare. Truly, the space in his lapels was vast!
Xue Cuo: “…”
“Xiao Xue, come. Let’s go meet your dear wife.”
At the two words “dear wife”, Xue Cuo’s head immediately throbbed.
To others, their entire exchange looked like a brief lapse of attention. He waved his hand in alarm. “What wife? Don’t talk nonsense! I’m not going anywhere!”
The temple servant, belly round as a gourd, stared wide-eyed. “Your wife, of course! She’s come looking for you, calling you Mr. Xue this and Mr. Xue that!”
At that form of address, Xue Cuo flicked his sleeves and prepared to bolt. The servant seized his shoulder. “No running! Go and see her. It’ll earn you some merit!”
The man eyed Xue Cuo’s slim waist with undisguised envy. Tch. Men ought to bear children. Instead he swans about all slim and proud. Who’s he trying to impress? Can that get him wealth or rank?
Cornered, Xue Cuo’s patience snapped. Fine. Whatever this monster or ghost was, one talisman would settle it!
Seizing the broom like a spear, he stormed back towards the Shiliu Temple. Before even reaching the gate he barked, “Where’s this person you spoke of?”
The servant puffed along behind, astounded. Who’d have thought the usually mild, unremarkable young Xue-ge could run like the wind itself? “Th……There…….cough cough”
He pointed a trembling finger at the tea pavilion beside the temple. A gauzy curtain hung within, faintly shadowing a graceful figure.
Xue Cuo narrowed his eyes, reached out, and flicked the curtain aside. The figure turned. Tassels swayed at her waist. A narrow, delicate waist; features sculpted fine as jade. Beautiful enough to stun a city.
Xue Cuo automatically set the broom down, blinking in mild shock. The woman blinked back. To others, her eyes were lively and charming; to Xue Cuo, they were lines drawn in clay. Fixed, lifeless, wrong.
He’d seen this sort of strangeness before, and he never forgot faces. He couldn’t possibly mistake it.
Still… Xue Cuo’s gaze swept her up and down.
Then he pretended to see nothing.
The woman smiled faintly and lifted a teapot. Yet ‘her’ movements were oddly rough. When she sat, her knees fell open, broad as a swordsman’s stance. Xue Cuo’s glance flicked down before she hastily pressed her legs together, revealing a pair of rather large feet.
“Mr. Xue.”
Xue Cuo bowed. The woman lowered her eyes, pushed a cup of tea towards him, and said softly, “Mr. Xue is a clever man. See this tea, the cup narrow-mouthed and clear on the surface. Yet beneath it, the dregs swirl and sink. Should one fall into it, one might never escape. As the saying goes, a gentleman does not stand beneath a crumbling wall.”
Xue Cuo said, “I don’t like tea.”
The woman: “…”
Xue Cuo: “If you don’t either, I can pour you some water.”
The woman forced a smile, waved a hand, and the curtains stirred though there was no wind. “Mr. Xue, this pavilion seems easy to enter and leave, yet it is a phoenix cage and a dragon trap. Walls everywhere.”
At that, Xue Cuo lifted the curtain again and propped it up with his broom. “I’m not afraid. Are you feeling stifled, Miss?”
The lady hesitated, then pointed to a porcelain vase. “Look at this jar. It seems to promise wealth and good fortune, yet within lie hidden dangers. Unless one removes the veil, one never knows what’s inside. Most mortals…”
Xue Cuo interrupted: “Ren Shu-gege.”
The lady: “…”
The lady’s pearl hairpin trembled faintly as she smiled. “Mr. Xue must be mistaken.”
Xue Cuo: “Super Thunderbolt Talisman with a Shocking Sound.”
The lady: “Invincible Thunderbolt Fire Dance in the Universe.”
Silence.
A long, resounding silence.
Then came a clatter. The lady hurled the teapot aside, muffled sobs escaping her as she covered her face and bolted, leaving behind a single enormous footprint.
Xue Cuo chased after her, only to glimpse a figure vanishing into the crowd at astonishing speed.
Outside, the temple servant swept up every last pregnancy-preserving pill with glee. “Hand over all your losses! No sneaking! Told you, this one wasn’t it either!”
Xue Cuo stood for a while, watching the place where she’d disappeared, and sighed softly.
The servant, flushed with victory and clutching handfuls of pills, noticed him sighing. “What’re you sighing for? Here, have a few. You’ll be needing them one day.”
Xue Cuo laughed, accepted the offering, and gave a flick of his sleeve. Though still dressed like a humble servant, his bearing was altogether different. His expression serene, almost poetic. “Flowers that are not flowers, trees that are not trees; things that seem human, yet are not. Think no more of dawn or dusk.”
The servant blinked, belly jutting forward in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Xue Cuo smiled and shook his head. “It can only be felt, not told.”
Then he shouldered his broom and went off to sweep the courtyard. The servant muttered, scratching his head, but soon forgot all about it. Instead, he turned to an animated discussion with the others on the art of childbirth and how best to bring forth babies named Fortune and Prosperity.
That night, the moon stood alone in a clear sky.
Xue Cuo sat upon the roof, eyes closed, resting quietly.
[There is something strange in this city.]
An ancient voice echoed suddenly in his mind. Xue Cuo opened his eyes. [Master Xuan Zhao, about my useless shidi…]
[Ho ho.]
The little golden dragon shot out from Xue Cuo’s robes, his snout swollen and bruised. Circling pitifully, he drooped his tail. Even the tiny cloud at its tip had been straightened flat.
Xue Cuo couldn’t help laughing. He gave him a mild glare and tapped his forehead. The dragon looked mournful for all of two seconds… until a square of osmanthus cake fell from the sky. His eyes lit up; he caught it neatly in his mouth and wagged his tail in pleased ripples.
[In the old days, my master treated me well too.]
Xue Cuo paused mid-motion, surprised. He could hear the faint sorrow and nostalgia beneath Xuan Zhao’s tone. “That youth you spoke of before?” he asked softly.
But he was supposed to be dead.
After a moment’s silence, Xuan Zhao replied, his voice gentler than before: [His reincarnation. He’s saved me a second time now.]
Xue Cuo thought privately, So the old turtle and that youth share quite a deep fate.
[There are four little fellows in this city,] Xuan Zhao went on, [and one rather formidable big one.]
At his calm tone, Xue Cuo straightened with sudden excitement. “Master, can you subdue them?”
[Once, easily. It would’ve taken a mere wave of the hand. But now I’m but a remnant spirit. My cultivation sealed by mortal cultivators.]
Xue Cuo sat back down. Xuan Zhao gave a disgruntled huff: [Still, my tortoise shell remains. Nothing can breach it. A supreme defensive treasure, that.]
That made Xue Cuo rise again. He looked out across the city, thoughtful. “Master Xuan, what do you see?”
[Rebirth. Marriage. Death. Reincarnation. Four little gods. And ambitious ones, too. Ho ho.]
Xue Cuo smiled faintly. He’d been in this city over a month now. Though he lingered around the Shiliu Temple each day, he’d more or less uncovered what he came for.
“A calamity looms over the mortal world,” he said softly. “They mean to seize the chance. To rebuild the wheel of reincarnation, reopen the Great Dao, and crown themselves gods anew.”
A gust of wind stirred his robes. The young man’s silhouette drifted like cloudlight as he stepped lightly onto the upturned eaves.
“But I’ve no wish to see them succeed.”
[There’s an ancient god in this city, is there not?]
Xue Cuo crossed his arms. “Ancient gods like that? I could summon three… no, four. In a single breath.”
Xuan Zhao gave what might have been a laugh. [Bah, I’ll join you for the ride.]
……
The Mortal Realm. Tiandu City of Fangzhou.
Demons thronged the streets; demonic energy coiled into the sky.
At the heart of the drill ground, a white-furred tiger battled hundreds of heroes at once. Around the field, ranks of lesser demons beat drums, waved banners, and howled in ecstasy. A thunderous carnival of chaos.
Tiandu City stood proud and unchallenged, its forces numbering thirty-six guardian commanders and seventy-two martial instructors. And their mighty king was a tiger so fierce he was called the White-Robed Shura. He was said to have slaughtered men beyond count, feeding on blood, his name dreaded across the land.
Now that same white tiger, clad in soft black armour, was locked in bare-fisted combat. His eyes gleamed like molten gold; his hair shone whiter than spring snow. Imposing, noble. Truly an impressively stunning male tiger.
He fought with savage grace, holding his own against the onslaught. At last, a single punch cracked three of his opponent’s ribs. The Deer Commander coughed blood, gasping, “Your Majesty. What sort of fist is that? I can’t see the form at all!”
Yin Feixue flicked his wrist, the air whistling. “Shrimp Soldier–Crab General Fist.”
“Sounds odd,”
“Exactly. ‘Heaven-Collapse Earth-Splitting Fist’ sounds far grander!”
“You lot know nothing!” Yin Feixue snapped, face dark as thunder. The onlookers shrank back in embarrassment, hastily hauling away the wounded deer commander.
Just then, a soldier dashed in and bowed low. “Your Majesty! Word has it the Vampire King’s been sighted near Qianyun City!”
Yin Feixue’s ears twitched. “Qianyun City of the South Sea? I heard there’s a fertility temple there that’s particularly effective.” His golden eyes narrowed. “Could it be that the old corpse has revived to bloom anew?”
He paused, found the thought most entertaining, and stripped off his wrist-guards with a clang onto a silver tray. “Mind Tiandu City while I’m gone. I’ll fetch that old stiff myself and make him my new door panel.”
