GWID Chapter 36

Chapter 36

After seventeen consecutive days of skipping court, Xingyi finally returned to hold court once more.

Since this absence had broken his previous record, the immortals had gone through a progression — from the delight of an extended holiday, to aimless idleness, to having nothing to do and actually wanting to go back to work — resulting in a large crowd brimming with enthusiasm. Before Xingyi could even get to official matters, they all began inquiring after his personal wellbeing one after another. “Your Majesty, have you been well?”

The first to ask was Qisha. He always arrived half a shichen early, and today, the moment Qingniao finished delivering the news that court would resume, he was already there — half a step ahead of Xingyi himself.

Xingyi said, “Well.”

Qisha smiled with his eyes. “I heard that the little phoenix Your Majesty has been raising can now hold his human form quite nicely. You must have been kept very busy on that account.”

He spoke with considerable delicacy, and Xingyi paid it no mind. The next to enter was Tanlang, that loudmouth, with the Golden-Winged Bird tucked inside his sleeve. He wore a slightly roguish smile and called out brightly. “Your Majesty, have you been well?”

Xingyi’s expression did not change. “Well.”

The Golden-Winged Bird wriggled out of his sleeve and cried, “Big Brother hasn’t come to play with me in so long! You stinking emperor, give Big Brother back to me! I’m working very hard to start fires when I heat water for the Phoenix Ming Zun these days, and Big Brother is exactly what I need.”

Xingyi finally lifted his eyes and let his gaze settle on the Golden-Winged Bird and on Tanlang’s sleeve. “Was it not the two of you who were playing so wildly you lost track of day and night? You said you were going to find cloud-reaching flowers and wolfberries for the Great Phoenix, and then not a soul saw you for days on end. And that is how Little Phoenix was neglected — he had no one to play with for days at a stretch, and was quite lonely for a time.”

The Golden-Winged Bird’s eyes went wide, stricken. “I — I forgot… Whenever I play with Big Brother Tanlang, I forget all about it. Big Brother, he —”

Xingyi’s gaze drifted slowly over to Tanlang.

Tanlang clapped a hand over the Golden-Winged Bird’s beak, then stood up straight with a solemn expression. “This must be a misunderstanding. Your Majesty, my original intention was to keep the Golden-Winged Bird from disturbing the two of you — I never imagined your phoenix would feel lonely because of it. Please do not take it to heart. Tonight I will let the Golden-Winged Bird go keep your Little Phoenix company.”

“There is no need.” Xingyi remarked unhurriedly, “He has a new companion now and no longer requires it. The Golden-Winged Bird, you go on and play — there is nothing to worry about.”

The Golden-Winged Bird craned his neck, deeply anxious. “What? Has Big Brother abandoned me?”

Xingyi gave a firm nod. “Indeed. He has taken on a new little brother.”

The Golden-Winged Bird burst into tears again. “I don’t believe it! I’m going to find Big Brother to play with. Big Brother wouldn’t just drop me like that. I’ll go apologize to him — I didn’t mean to stop coming to see him… It’s all Tanlang’s fault!”

Tanlang stood there thoroughly bewildered, staring at the weeping Golden-Winged Bird, somewhat at a loss.

Xingyi twisted the knife a little further, unhurried as ever. “This new little brother of his is plump and round and adorable, born of the same clan as Little Phoenix, and likewise without father or mother. His plumage is not golden-red either. He sings with him, eats persimmons with him, and can even do the same slimming exercises with him. Little Phoenix is also going to weave him a flower wreath. Can you do any of that?”

The Golden-Winged Bird gritted his teeth. “I’m going to go explain everything to Big Brother! And that new little brother — I absolutely will not allow him to monopolize Big Brother!”

Xingyi cupped his chin and asked, “If he cannot monopolize your Big Brother, then who can?”

The Golden-Winged Bird thought about it for a moment, then said, with great reluctance, “Well — you. You are Big Brother’s husband. You are my Big Sister-in-law. I’ve got no objections to that, naturally.”

Xingyi smiled faintly. “Then stop crying for now. Little Phoenix certainly listens to me — I’ll put in a few good words for you with him, and he won’t hold the matter of you not coming to play against you anymore. All right?”

The Golden-Winged Bird nodded at once, eagerly.

Xingyi said with a straight face, “Then you must remember him from now on. He is a little bird who loves to play and cherishes his friends dearly. The phoenix clan may be proud by nature, but they cannot endure loneliness either. Don’t go leaving him on his own and forgetting about him again — understood? Golden-Winged Bird, I hereby appoint you as Golden-Winged Supervisory Envoy under my command, charged with attending to Little Phoenix’s emotional and physical wellbeing. Continue treating him exactly as you always have — the only thing I ask is that you report to me promptly should anything come up. Your monthly stipend will be thirty thousand spirit stones, with a supplementary ration of bird feed personally refined by the Taishang Laojun. What do you say?”

The Golden-Winged Bird was greatly tempted. “I get to play with Big Brother and draw a salary and have enough to eat! But Your Majesty, I was already working for the Phoenix Ming Zun — doesn’t this mean I’d be working two jobs? I wonder if there might be a conflict.”

Xingyi inclined his head. “There won’t be. As I said, everything continues as before. What Little Phoenix needs is a friend — not a companion who has been paid to flatter him. I can see perfectly well that he was quite happy helping you heat the Phoenix Ming Zun’s foot-bath water.” He paused here, then added, “Don’t you think?”

Tanlang snuck a glance upward, and had the fleeting impression there was just a tiny trace of sourness running through those words.

Perhaps he’d imagined it, Tanlang thought.

Tanlang interjected, “Thirty thousand stones seems rather excessive. What if these little birds take the money and go carousing in brothels?”

Xingyi looked at him with mild surprise. “Too much? Little Phoenix’s monthly pocket money is three million, and he still can’t spend it all. The spirit stones and spirit objects I casually accumulated tens of thousands of years ago have nowhere to go — they’re practically growing mold. I have no idea how many ages it will take to use them all up.”

Tanlang quietly closed his mouth.

It was true that the star officials here in the Northern Heaven Fuli Palace received the highest stipends of all — the Jade Emperor’s court paid only six thousand per month, while Xingyi’s paid fifty thousand. Tanlang had assumed this was the Phoenix Ming Zun’s doing, meant to make Xingyi appear diligent and industrious, willing to spend generously to attract fine talent — it seemed he had thought too much into it.

The Golden-Winged Bird accepted this assignment with boundless joy and dashed off to find Little Phoenix to play.

The remaining star officials filed in one by one, and without fail, each one who entered had to ask with deep and meaningful implication. “Your Majesty, have you been well?”

“Your Majesty is in good health, I trust?”

They all assumed that Xingyi’s many days of absence from court were, in all likelihood, due to lingering too long in the pleasures of love.

Xingyi answered each in turn with composed composure. “Fine.” “Well.”

But shortly thereafter he grew impatient, picked up a cup of tea and took a few sips, and said, “Even if I were given over entirely to debauchery for seventeen days running, there would be no cause for concern.”

The assembly understood at once and asked no more after his health, instead bowing their heads low and intoning in unison, “May Your Majesty take care of yourself.”

Xingyi rubbed his temples.

Qisha pressed his lips together, smiled at what he had heard, then stood by a pillar and drew out the register to begin his customary roll call.

Everyone in the Heavenly Court had a corresponding star position, but some, like the Taishang Laojun, were exempt from attending — being both the Taiyi Star and the founding ancestor who presided over the Three Clarities and Primordial Chaos, he spent his days refining elixirs and need not come. Yue Lao similarly, whose star was the Red Luan, was responsible for tying the threads of fate and therefore also unable to attend. Such immortals still went to the Jade Emperor’s court when court was held — they had no need to come to Xingyi’s.

Those who held court with Xingyi were, for the most part, pure star officials.

As each one arrived, Qisha drew a circle beside the corresponding name in the register, then announced, “The Twenty-Eight Lunar Mansions are present in full. The four Star Masters of Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Vermillion Bird, and Black Tortoise are present in full.”

“Of the Northern Dipper Palace, Tanlang of the Tianlu star leads; Tianxuan, Tianji, Tianquan, Yuheng, and Kaiyang are all present.”

“Of the Southern Dipper Palace, I lead; Tianfu, Tianliang, Tianji, Tianrong, and Tianxiang are all present.”

“With the exception of Pojun of the Northern Dipper’s Yaoguang star, all are present.”

His words had barely faded when murmuring broke out among the assembly. “Pojun has failed to appear again?”

White Tiger said, “I thought Pojun would surely come this time, no matter what — after all, His Majesty had already promised to help the Jade Rabbit recover her memories the last time. That was almost two hundred years ago, and yet Pojun still hasn’t let it go.”

Black Tortoise said quietly, “The three stars Sha, Po, and Lang were always meant to be inseparable. For Pojun to do this is going too far. The three stars of Tanlang, Qisha, and Pojun hold the Three Directions in Balance, just as we four Star Masters preside over the Twenty-Eight Lunar Mansions — one missing, and the whole thing falls out of alignment. When Pojun is absent, the power of the three stars becomes unbalanced and trouble follows. In the past, when His Majesty drew on the Star Disc, Tanlang and Qisha would need days to recover after each time they stood guard over the ritual — if Pojun were present, they would not be put through such hardship.”

Vermillion Bird nudged him with an elbow. “It’s not so hard to understand. To speak plainly — I actually feel quite sorry for Pojun. If my beloved’s fate star had been offered up like the Jade Rabbit’s to suppress the Primordial Chaos, nearly scattering her soul and leaving her without her memories, I would seek an accounting from the master of the Star Disc even at the cost of my own life. Don’t talk to me about the greater good of all living beings — I don’t want to hear it.”

At these words, the assembly fell into collective silence for a moment, as though mourning what had passed.

The upheaval two hundred years ago felt as vivid as yesterday.

At that time, an Evil Dragon had erupted into existence out of nowhere, throwing the mortal world into turmoil. The Jade Rabbit of the Moon Palace had been swept into the calamity, drawn into the configuration of the Three Stars of Sha, Po, and Lang, and had nearly had her soul scattered and dispersed entirely in the cycle of cause and consequence. The Three Stars of Tanlang, Qisha, and Pojun — those whose fated palace bore this configuration were burdened with heavy desire and deep obsession, spending their lives in perpetual upheaval, the so-called “tree that wishes to be still while the wind will not cease.” The killing energy ran deep.

And so the outcome seemed to confirm the prophecy of that fate: the Evil Dragon came into being, was reborn as a mortal emperor, and a fragment and shadow of Tanlang’s incarnation was woven into it as well, fating the young emperor to a violent and murderous nature. Pojun had not yet returned to his star position at the time — he was merely a small and humble Rabbit God in the underworld, and later, in his efforts to resolve the calamity of the Evil Dragon’s killing star, he had turned against the heavens, becoming entangled in many things during his time in the mortal world.

That the Jade Rabbit had been caught up in a fate configuration such as this — in the words of others — “was truly the most wretched of luck.”

This rabbit had gone down to the mortal world in the first place because of a secret love for Pojun Star.

In those days, Chang’e had wept in the Moon Palace until she nearly cried herself to pieces. It was Pojun who painstakingly gathered the Jade Rabbit’s shattered soul back together, piece by piece, and then found the reincarnated Jade Rabbit among more than three hundred rabbits and raised him. After such great difficulty the rabbit had at last been able to take human form — only to discover that the Jade Rabbit had lost all his memories.

At that time, Xingyi had not long since departed from the Northern Heaven. When the Phoenix Ming Zun had asked him about the matter, he said, “A hundred years ago, I noticed an anomaly in the Star Disc — a killing star was about to come into existence. Without a means to break it, all Six Realms would be dragged into great chaos. To suppress it, using killing energy to counter killing energy, I employed the most potent killing configuration of Sha, Po, and Lang to press it down. As a precaution, and with the Five Elements in mind, I also sought out a star with an earth spirit root to balance and regulate the water element — that is what you are all calling the Jade Rabbit.”

Xingyi spread his hands. “That is all. I did not know any of them, nor did I have any intention of targeting anyone in particular. Fate is their own. I have always concerned myself only with results.”

The Phoenix Ming Zun said quietly, “But your reasoning… some people may not be able to accept it.”

Xingyi only looked at him with cold detachment, and offered no further opinion. He had been born with a piece of his heart missing, with a nature that wanted for nothing from the very beginning, and he was not capable of understanding the suffering of others.

If Pojun Star did not come, then so be it — Xingyi had never given it any thought. When Qisha and Tanlang stood guard and the missing portion of power left a gap, he filled it himself, and had never once felt that anything was amiss.

Until today, when old matters were raised again, and the murmuring from below drifted to him clearly. A small, almost imperceptible thought stirred in Xingyi’s mind.

Stories of love in the Heavenly Court were never in short supply — Yue Lao was most fond of recounting them. Which immortal lady had snuck down to the mortal world and married a man, which pair of immortals had quarreled, man and woman, man and man, woman and woman — all manner of things. Xingyi had seen so many. The Heavenly Court was not like the mortal world with its rigid ideas about gender, and so everyone went about freely.

Perhaps Pojun and the Jade Rabbit were also this kind of story — a secret love that became an open one, and though they had passed through many trials and tribulations, they had finally come together in peace and happiness.

“If someone were to do such a thing to my beloved…” He did not hear the rest of Vermillion Bird’s words. He was thinking, and his mind, without any will of his own, conjured up the image of a snowy-white, plump, round little ball of fluff, peering up at him with bright, limpid little bead-like eyes.

If someone were to do such a thing to Little Phoenix — what would he do?

The answer had already been given long ago, given in that incident when Little Phoenix had been stolen by the demon children on the mountain —

Reduce them to ash and dust.

Xingyi lowered his eyes. His fingers moved slowly over a jade slip resting at the front of his seat.

He had written it more than ten days ago — an imperial decree directing Qisha and Tanlang to go to the Jade Rabbit’s place and help search for the lost memories within the Star Disc. He had no intention of summoning the other party here, and had not considered going in person — he had not set foot outside Fuli Palace in tens of thousands of years. This was a trivial matter, and merited no particular attention.

After a brief silence, he spoke. “Tomorrow, Qisha and Tanlang will accompany me to pay a visit to Pojun Star’s Yaoguang Palace.”

Inside the great hall, the silence was so absolute that the fall of a needle could have been heard.

Xingyi raised his eyes and asked, “Is there any other matter to be presented? If not, court is dismissed.”

Qisha said, “Your Majesty, Pojun no longer resides at Yaoguang Palace — he is currently living by the Wangchuan River in the Underworld. The Wangchuan is gloomy, with red spider lilies blazing in bloom across the land. It is entirely unlike the Northern Heaven. Your Majesty, are you… certain you wish to go?”

Xingyi said indifferently, “When I opened up the Underworld together with the Three Thousand Karmic Fires of Fengdu, you had not yet been born.”

Qisha knew he had misspoken. “Understood, Your Majesty. Tanlang and I will make preparations at once.”

Xingyi furrowed his brow. “But why does Pojun live there?”

Qisha said, “It is like this, Your Majesty. The reason Pojun has never come — his stated reason for requesting leave is the same as that of many immortals in the Heavenly Court: that he also holds duties there and cannot be spared. But in truth we all know his divine position was something he stumbled into, and there is not very much for him to do — he simply does not wish to come, and that is all. In the past, Pojun was still a mortal, reborn into an imperial family. The throne should rightfully have been his, but he was killed by his own brother, and killed in a manner that was vile and contemptible — so that even in death he could not keep a good name, and was mocked by countless ghosts. The Jade Emperor, hearing of this, granted him the position of Rabbit God as a form of consolation, charging him with presiding over the love between mortal men. As fate would have it, the title of Rabbit God and the name of Jade Rabbit were the same, and so they share the title of Taiyin. The palace where he now resides is his divine position palace, the Taiyin Hall, and not his star position palace, Yaoguang Palace.”

Xingyi’s brow was still furrowed. “Rabbit God?”

The title felt vaguely familiar to him, as though he had heard it somewhere before. But the feeling was fleeting and elusive, just out of his grasp, and it passed in an instant.

Qisha answered, “Yes, Your Majesty. He is an immortal who was elevated from mortal status. Though few people call him by his given name anymore, I still remember — his original surname was Lin. His name was Lin Zhao.”