GWID Chapter 45

It was already evening when Little Phoenix received the devastating news that his peaches had been eaten. He searched all of Fuli Palace but couldn’t find his Xingyi, and finally learned from the Old Divine Tree where Xingyi had gone: out for a walk.

No wonder — Xingyi, who never liked sweets, had somehow forced himself to finish five plump, round lianshi fruits, and so had no choice but to go out for an evening stroll to aid his digestion.

He had just stepped out of the palace gates and taken only a few steps when a round, chubby little bird came flying from behind, beating its snow-white wings as it flew toward the top of his head, swooping down to lodge its complaint. “Weijian, why did you eat my peaches! You didn’t even tell me! Which one of us is the little bird here, you or me? Only a little bird is allowed to eat that many peaches!”

Xingyi plucked him down from atop his head and replied with equal seriousness. “Didn’t you say you were going to give me peaches as a birthday gift? Since you said so, I simply took an advance on it and ate them early — what’s wrong with that? You said it yourself: what’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is yours. You’re too stingy, not even letting your husband eat a few peaches.”

He then flicked Little Phoenix on his small head, making the little bird ruffle his feathers. “And giving me just five peaches as a birthday gift — how cheap.”

Little Phoenix began chirping loudly, wailing dramatically. “I was lying to you, Weijian! I was teasing you for fun, so I tricked you into thinking the birthday gift I’d prepared was peaches. See — you obviously wanted a surprise, that’s why you were acting so disdainful about me giving you peaches. Weijian, you owe me those lianshi fruits! I really did seriously prepare a surprise for you!”

Xingyi looked at him and gave him a gentle squeeze in his palm, the corner of his lips curling into a smile. “Oh, is that so.”

Little Phoenix went on chirping his complaints. “You won’t even admit it! You clearly wanted it!”

Xingyi hooked one snow-white little claw with his fingertip, then channeled his qi to transform Little Phoenix into human form. He landed steadily, and just like that was led along by Xingyi’s hand. Gazing ahead, his five fingers laced with Little Phoenix’s, Xingyi walked him slowly along the snowy mountain path and asked, “So what is it then?”

Little Phoenix grinned triumphantly. “I’m not telling you, Weijian. You’ll have to trade me a surprise of your own.”

Xingyi glanced at him, thought for a moment, then replied, “Alright. What would you like?”

Little Phoenix glared at him. “Think of it yourself, silly Weijian. If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise anymore.”

Xingyi said simply, “Alright.”

Little Phoenix’s hand fidgeted beneath his, arranging itself into a pinky-swear gesture, and the two of them hooked pinkies once more. Xingyi chatted with him in a leisurely, unhurried way. Little Phoenix asked about how his past birthdays had been arranged, and Xingyi answered honestly.

When he learned that Xingyi had never once opened any of the gifts from the immortals, never took stock of them, and had set aside a separate palace hall just to store them all, Little Phoenix was thunderstruck. “Weijian, you’re this wasteful? We could be getting rich off of this!”

He patted his chest proudly. “Leave this to me. I love unwrapping gifts most of all! Tomorrow I’ll help you sort through everything — open them up and see what’s inside. Also, there’s something I want to discuss with you: if I unwrap something really good, could you let me use it as starting capital for me and Jinjin? We’ve already thought it over — we’d open a restaurant right here in the Heavenly Court, bring in customers, and since you’re my husband, your dividends are my dividends. What do you say?”

(TL: Jin = Gold; Jinjin is probably the Golden-Winged Bird)

Xingyi said, “Sure.”

And so the little bird eagerly began chattering to him about other things. After their walk, the sky had fully darkened. Little Phoenix recited the incantation on his own, transforming back into a small bird, and nestled into Xingyi’s collar, rubbing his fluffy little belly against him for warmth.

Xingyi stroked his feathers and asked, “Have you been making progress with your transformations lately? As I recall, you used to only be able to change once a day, but now I see you managing two or three times on your own.”

Little Phoenix continued pressing his belly against him. “Yes! Hurry up and praise me, Weijian.”

Xingyi flicked him on the head. “Looks like you’re nearly at the early stage of Tribulation Crossing. Only three more tiers before you fly up to the Golden Core Ascension Tribulation. Each tier at this realm carries three immovable lightning tribulations. I vaguely recall that about a hundred years ago, Taishang Laojun gave me a dozen or so wholesale Vajra Shields — each one can withstand one lightning tribulation. Tomorrow you should go look for them yourself, take out three to keep on hand, and you can resell or give away the rest. Don’t rush — since you were damaged while still in the egg, it’s perfectly natural for your transformation to come a little slower.”

Little Phoenix was absolutely stunned. “Isn’t that cheating? I’ve never… never heard of any immortal ascending through the tribulation without getting struck by lightning.”

Xingyi’s tone was unhurried. “Being my little bird, you won’t need to.”

Little Phoenix, pleased as could be, shamelessly nuzzled up against him once more and fell asleep nestled in his collar.

Xingyi carried his fluffy little chubby bird back into the palace. He tucked Little Phoenix under the pillow, wrapped him snugly in a small blanket, then picked up some official documents and turned in early himself.

Before falling asleep, he turned on his side and quietly watched the small bird nestled beneath the pillow, gently poking it with his finger. “Little troublemaker, what kind of surprise do you want?”

****

The next day, Little Phoenix officially launched his grand campaign of “helping Weijian unwrap gifts,” working almost without rest, not even interested in eating fruit. When Xingyi passed by the side hall to check on him, he saw a snow-white little chubby bird darting here and there, its tiny bead-like eyes bright and full of energy, flying back and forth in every direction, radiating pure joy from the act of unwrapping presents.

Little Phoenix very solemnly told him, “Weijian, before now I was always the one delivering packages to others — I’ve never unwrapped a package myself. I think this feeling is wonderful, and you probably don’t quite understand me, because I am a poor little phoenix.”

This poor little phoenix unwrapped gifts for three days and three nights before finally finishing. He compiled a list of gifts and excitedly told Xingyi, “Weijian! I calculated the prices in the Heavenly Court and the rate of inflation — if we live off savings and pay wages, we can hold out for another three thousand years!”

During those three days, Little Phoenix also unwrapped several sealed divine beast mounts, including one nine-colored deer, three panda spirits, eighty-seven red-crowned immortal cranes, five silver fox hounds, and one nine-headed Zhu Jiuyin giant serpent.

Little Phoenix quickly became fast friends with all these little creatures — all except the Zhu Jiuyin, which was so ancient it had already turned demonic, like a walking corpse, unable to understand the way immortals communicated today. The moment this fearsome massive serpent was released, it coiled itself high up on the ornamental pillar of the main hall, its enormous eyes — dim and yellow as lamplight — sweeping coldly around in all directions, before finally locking its gaze on Little Phoenix.

Compared to the Zhu Jiuyin, Little Phoenix was like the difference between a tiny ant and a towering tree.

Little Phoenix hopped about, flapping his little wings and shouting, “If you’re so capable, don’t say a word! If you’re so capable, eat me! I’m this tiny — I wouldn’t even be enough to pick out of your teeth!”

Little Phoenix’s calculations were quite clever: since the Zhu Jiuyin was so enormous, he could use his advantage of nimble smallness — just like when he’d fought the Golden-Winged Bird — and come out on top. After winning, he could then take the imposing great serpent on as his underling. But this time he had miscalculated: the Zhu Jiuyin was massive in its true form, yet the moment it locked onto Little Phoenix as prey, it immediately shifted its shape and shrank in an instant into a tiny snake no longer than a foot.

Little Phoenix was caught in the serpent’s coils — his round little body twisting and turning, unable to escape the Zhu Jiuyin’s ever-tightening grip. He cried out in distress, “Last warning! I’m going to breathe fire! You still have a chance to admit you’re my underling right now! I’m counting down from five — five! Four! Three! Ow!”

Before he could even finish counting, the Zhu Jiuyin tightened its body completely, nearly squeezing Little Phoenix into coughing up the lianshi fruit he’d eaten that morning. Furious, he wriggled and then shot out a scorching jet of flame — the sparks landed on the floor and melted the black iron-cast bricks.

The Zhu Jiuyin didn’t flinch. It opened its gaping maw, and Little Phoenix felt a surge of cold energy rush over him — even his phoenix fire was suppressed. Terrified, he cried out in a panic and squeezed his tiny bead eyes shut, using the last of his strength to roll back and forth, even managing to squeeze out a few teardrops of regret. “Wei… jian… I’ll never… fight… again…”

He gave up struggling and peacefully kicked his little legs.

“That’s what you said, Little Yuan Yuan.”

Suddenly, Little Phoenix felt the force that had been squeezing the breath out of him vanish in an instant. He jolted awake as if granted a pardon, drawing a deep, exhilarated breath — then went completely limp, spreading out his little wings and lying belly-up on the floor. He tilted his head and looked over.

Xingyi had arrived at some unknown point. With one hand, he held the serpent coiled around it, firmly gripping it by the neck.

He slowly looked down at the little round ball on the floor and offered a casual remark. “The Zhu Jiuyin’s scales are fire-resistant. Long ago, before Hou Yi shot down the nine suns, it was I who helped him hunt a Zhu Jiuyin so he could have its scales made into arrowheads.”¹

Little Phoenix picked himself up off the ground and flew into his other hand, squatting there in a round little ball, looking up at Xingyi with tearful eyes, deeply moved. “Weijian.”

Xingyi looked at him with mild exasperation. “You’d charge at anyone and pick a fight — one of these days you’ll end up roasted without even knowing how, you foolish thing.”

Little Phoenix drooped his head. “I just wanted to take it in as my underling.”

Xingyi chuckled. “It’s already so old its mind has gone. It’s turned demonic — it can’t be your underling anymore.”

Little Phoenix raised his eyes and glanced cautiously at the tongue being pinched by Xingyi, a little hesitant. “Since it’s gone demonic, what will happen to it?”

Xingyi replied, “The Zhu Jiuyin is an ancient snake spirit of extreme ferocity, heavy with baleful energy. Legend says its eyes are connected directly to the underworld. Now that it has turned demonic, if it were left anywhere else, it would most likely be flayed and defleshed, its primordial spirit shattered to death.”

Little Phoenix let out a soft “ah” and looked again at the serpent. “That’s a little pitiable. I respect it as a fine snake that could beat me. So Weijian, is there any way to bring it back to normal?”

Xingyi considered. “It’s not entirely without a way. The reason the demonic path becomes the demonic path is that once you enter it, there is almost no turning back. The demonic path’s speed and effectiveness in gaining power far surpasses the divine path — but the corresponding price is the loss of one’s mind and spirit, until finally one becomes a bloodthirsty, mindless husk. The power accumulates beyond what ordinary people can suppress with their cultivation and will; the few who can keep it down tend to be short-lived, which is why the demonic realm sees such frequent change in rulership. If there were something that could exert the same force as a powerful mind and strong cultivation — something to suppress that energy — then perhaps it might slowly ease someone back from the demonic state.”

Little Phoenix tilted his head in thought. “The Star Disc?”

Xingyi gave a low hum. “It’s just a guess for now. If you don’t want to see this Zhu Jiuyin die at my hands, then I’ll place it within the Star Disc and let it be suppressed there — we’ll see what fate has in store for it.”

Little Phoenix chirped happily several times. “So in that case, there’s still a chance I could take a Zhu Jiuyin as my underling?”

Xingyi gave him a sideways glance. “Always thinking about taking in new underlings — but I never see you showing any care for your old ones. The Golden-Winged Bird has been coming by quite frequently lately. What about your little coal ball? You’ve probably neglected him for nearly half a month now.”

Little Phoenix heard the first part and cut in, ready to retort. “Never mind minding when I take in underlings — you’d be better off preparing my surprise, Weijian.” But when he heard the words “little coal ball” at the end, the whole bird gave a startled jolt.

Xingyi counted off for him. “One day, two days, three days, four days, five days — two days going and coming back from the Wangchuan, then four days counting gifts. You haven’t gone to play with him for nearly half a month, and I’d wager you didn’t give him any notice in advance either. If I were your little coal ball — waiting for you through wind and rain for half a month with no one coming — I’d be heartbroken enough to just leave. Aren’t you terrible.”

Little Phoenix was on the verge of tears. “I didn’t, I’m not. I… I… I forgot about little coal ball!”

The first few days he had been heartbroken; then after sorting things out with Xingyi, he had been too overjoyed. He hadn’t thought of anything else.

The little chubby bird spun frantically in a circle, then flapped its wings and shot straight out, returning a moment later in a rush, hurriedly snatching up several rare gifts in its beak, saying it would bring them as an apology to little coal ball.

Xingyi watched it dart back and forth, then vanish in a flash from sight, a faint smile rising in his eyes. He gave a casual flick of his hand, summoning the Star Disc, and tucked the Zhu Jiuyin inside. Then, strolling at an unhurried pace, he went to the smelting chamber and instructed the head immortal attendant, “I’m going into seclusion — I won’t be out before evening. Tell anyone who asks.”

The immortal attendant replied, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

He walked into the smelting chamber, casually shut the door behind him, and in the next moment transformed himself into a pitch-black little round ball and slipped out through the back window. He walked along with a self-important little toddle, swiftly adjusting his bearing: steps properly placed, wings tucked in tightly, his tiny dark bead eyes still radiating severity and solemnity — though now, befitting the occasion, they also carried a touch of loneliness and sorrow.

Xingyi went to look at himself in a stretch of ice polished mirror-smooth, chirped a few satisfied notes to himself, and then set off at a leisurely stroll — to go find his Little Phoenix.

TL/N:

Hou Yi (后羿) is a legendary archer in Chinese mythology, famous for shooting down nine of the ten suns that once scorched the Earth. He is often depicted as a heroic figure with unparalleled archery skills. In many xianxia or fantasy novels, he’s sometimes referenced as a symbol of strength, skill, or heroism.