Chapter 15

The tavern was shabby and old, with few patrons. Meishan Jun was drinking with enthusiasm, his voice the loudest in the entire place.

“Fu Jiuyun, you old immortal, always calling on me for help when you need something and disappearing to enjoy yourself when you don’t… Zhen Hongsheng, that fox, has been in seclusion for years, and I’m left drinking alone; it’s so dull…”

Fu Jiuyun ignored his lamentations, his attention fully on Tanyin. There were thousands of women who showed eagerness upon seeing him for the first time, but none quite as fervent as Tanyin.

He lowered his head to pour wine, feeling the intense gaze of the beautiful girl opposite him. She scrutinized him from head to toe, as if she were trying to see through him. This intrigued him, though he didn’t show it. He handed Tanyin a cup of wine and smiled.

“May I ask your name?”

“Ji Tanyin.”

Tanyin didn’t drink the wine. She held the cup, rubbing it in her hands, watching Fu Jiuyun’s every move. Despite his seemingly ordinary behavior, he was around three thousand years old, older than many immortals. Both immortals and demons had to undergo lightning tribulations for longevity, but this spirit in the soul lamp lacked the fate to do so and thus had to reincarnate—yet he didn’t bear the scent of the River of Oblivion, indicating he reincarnated with memories intact.

Tanyin’s gaze held a trace of pity, which made Fu Jiuyun feel uneasy.

“Miss Ji…” Fu Jiuyun hesitated, glancing at the high priest, who was drinking quietly with Meishan, far from Tanyin, not even looking at her.

“Have we… met before?” Fu Jiuyun probed.

Tanyin thought for a moment. “Sort of.”

Fu Jiuyun pondered.

He had a good memory, and Ji Tanyin was a strikingly beautiful woman. He was confident he wouldn’t forget her if they had met, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t recall any memory of her.

Yuan Zhong had just gotten the endlessly chattering Meishan Jun drunk and turned back to Fu Jiuyun with a thoughtful smile, saying in a low voice, “Finished talking?”

Fu Jiuyun, smiling serenely, poured him a full cup and said, “Your Highness, the High Priest, let me toast you. Thank you for the five jars of ‘Drunk Life and Dreaming of Death’ wine you sent last time.”

Yuan Zhong held the cup, looking at him with a half-smile, but didn’t drink. After a long pause, he said slowly, “We haven’t seen each other for years, and you’re still as charming as ever.”

Fu Jiuyun acted as if he didn’t hear, raised his cup, and said calmly, “These years I’ve wandered far and wide, feeling inspired to compose a song. Your Highness the High Priest, you’re always so elegant; could you help me name it?”

At that time, most songs composed in popular music halls used existing names, lacking originality. The song he intended to compose would be unique, unmatched by any other. He had thought of many names but wasn’t satisfied.

Yuan Zhong smiled.

“With such refined interest, how could I refuse? Have you finished the song? Let me hear it first.”

Fu Jiuyun took the flute from his waist and played a short piece. Though the song was incomplete, this was a brief spark of inspiration. The flute’s sound, though melodious, was somewhat thin, yet the tune was intricate and touching, like a gentle breeze, like flowing water. Tanyin listened, feeling refreshed and amazed that such a beautiful tune existed in the mortal world after so many millennia.

Yuan Zhong tapped his fingers on the table, keeping rhythm. When the short piece ended, after a long while, he said, “This tune is tender and affectionate, evoking images of a vibrant spring filled with colorful flowers… How about the ‘East Wind Peach Blossom’ song?”

By then, Meishan Jun was heavily drunk, clapping his hands, “No, no! It makes me drowsy! Call it the ‘Lullaby’!”

Fu Jiuyun seemed not to hear his drunken words, silently repeating the phrase ‘East Wind Peach Blossom,’ appearing to be very fond of it.

Yuan Zhong noticed Tanyin’s gaze practically glued to Fu Jiuyun’s face. If this foolish girl kept staring, nothing good would come of it. He stood up, clasped his hands in a farewell gesture, and said, “I can’t handle much alcohol, so I’ll take my leave. If the opportunity arises, let’s drink together again.”

With that, he dragged Tanyin away without giving her a chance to argue.

“Have you seen enough?” he asked Tanyin with a smiling, gentle demeanor as they walked. His tone was as kind as it could be.

Tanyin stumbled as he pulled her, barely managing to steady herself when he added, “If you haven’t seen enough, do you want to go back for another look?”

Tanyin looked up at him for a moment. Yuan Zhong smiled warmly and sincerely, as if he genuinely meant his question.

“Yes, I want to go back and take another look.”

There was something she couldn’t let go of.

Yuan Zhong suddenly flung her hand away as if it were prickly and left without a word, his sleeves billowing.

Was he angry? Tanyin rubbed her wrist, which was slightly sore from the abrupt release. Though he was a fox, like Taihe, he was still a man, and she could never understand a man’s heart.

Taihe also had such unpredictable, hot-and-cold moods, which was truly frustrating.

She pushed open the tavern’s half-closed door. Fu Jiuyun was still sitting in his original spot, but Meishan Jun had drunk too much and was now slumped over the table, reeking of alcohol.

“Fu… Jiuyun?” Tanyin called softly, unsure if she had remembered his name correctly.

Fu Jiuyun looked at her with a bit of surprise. This girl actually came back. Wasn’t she afraid the high priest would get so angry he’d kill her?

“Is there something you need, Miss Ji?” His tone turned slightly colder.

Her gaze was too intense, but she seemed to have some connection with the High Priest of the Fox tribe, and he didn’t want unnecessary trouble.

Tanyin glanced around. The tavern had only a few scattered customers. Despite this, Fu Jiuyun’s striking appearance drew occasional glances from the proprietor and the staff. Her eyes shone with a clear light, and she suddenly waved her hand. All the sounds around them ceased. Meishan Jun’s drunken mumbling stopped abruptly, and the waiter, in the act of pouring wine for a nearby patron, froze mid-pour, the liquid suspended in the air.

Everything in the tavern came to an abrupt halt, as if they had entered a strange, alternate realm.

Fu Jiuyun was slightly shocked—who was she to possess such power?

“You are the essence born from the soul lamp I created.”

Tanyin walked towards him step by step, her eyes glowing with a bright, cold light. Her snow-white skin seemed to radiate a mesmerizing, cool brilliance, making it hard to move.

Fu Jiuyun was so stunned that he couldn’t utter a word. He tried to move, but found himself completely paralyzed. The cold light emanating from her grew more dazzling, and he began to feel a drowsy lethargy creeping over him.

“The soul lamp was lost in the mortal world, and I have no intention of retrieving it.”

She reached out and touched his forehead with a finger, which was soft and warm, bringing a sense of calm and peace.

“But if the soul lamp is ever ignited, you will be annihilated. Even if you are lucky enough to revive again, you will still suffer the endless torment of reincarnation.”

Tanyin concentrated the light at her fingertip and infused it into his forehead, her voice soft.

“I do not know what fate awaits you, but today I grant you some good fortune to spare you from the suffering of reincarnation.”

The cool light was absorbed into Fu Jiuyun’s forehead as Tanyin withdrew her finger, lowering her head to scrutinize him. Fu Jiuyun’s existence was her highest achievement as a craftsman, filling her with immense pride. She had died of a terminal illness, coughing up blood, and her soul had wandered the mortal realm for many years, yet the fire of craftsmanship within her heart had never been extinguished. During the war between gods and demons, the soul lamp she created was rejected by Taihe as too vicious, nearly extinguishing her inner flame.

But today, her flame reignited. He was her masterpiece.

She was an unparalleled craftsman.

Fu Jiuyun seemed to wake suddenly from a dream. He looked down and saw his cup still filled with wine. Meishan Jun was still drunkenly rambling, and the tavern’s few patrons were still present. The waiter had just finished pouring wine for a nearby customer and was being scolded for spilling some. Outside, people were bustling in the brilliant sunlight.

Had something just happened? He laughed at himself. Had he daydreamed for a moment?

The High Priest had already dragged Ji Tanyin away, leaving two empty wine cups on the table… Wait, Ji Tanyin? Who was she? He frowned, trying to recall her face, but an irresistible force within him prevented him from thinking about her. As soon as the thought arose, he forgot it again. Seeing Meishan Jun sleeping soundly, he didn’t bother him and instead pondered his “East Wind Peach Blossom” tune.

Yuan Zhong was in a foul mood, and what made it worse was his frustration with his own bad mood, making him even more irritable.

The silver he had taken felt heavy in his arms. He tossed it casually onto the bed and counted it. Over the past few days, he has snatched over four hundred taels from Ji Tanyin. Four hundred taels would ensure a mortal a life of comfort and even luxury for a long time. But as an immortal, this amount wouldn’t be enough to sustain even his mount for a few months.

Why was he taking her money? Yuan Zhong was annoyed with his own unreasonable behavior.

She insisted on following him, declaring she would do so for his entire life, openly and secretly chasing after him until he had nowhere to escape. She stroked his male ego and made him feel proud, almost to the point of being bewitched.

She was like an all-purpose guardian angel, giving him money when he needed it and cheering him up when he was angry and frustrated. Why did she do this? Could she really have a secret crush on him?

Yuan Zhong smirked at the absurdity of his own thought. He had encountered many women but never understood them, nor did he ever try to. He admired their beauty but never cared to understand their hearts. Thus, he couldn’t comprehend what was in Ji Tanyin’s heart.

She performed all kinds of infuriating, detestable, yet endearing acts towards him, only to turn around and fixate on another man. Were women truly such terrifying creatures? No wonder many elders said that the favor of a beautiful woman was the hardest to endure—he was certainly struggling now.

Yuan Zhong slowly peeled off his mask, feeling an uncontrollable urge to look in the mirror.

The bronze mirror reflected his face—pale and slightly thin. What did he lack compared to Fu Jiuyun?

After staring for a long time, he realized how foolish this was, threw the mirror aside, and thought of going for a walk. Suddenly, there were two knocks on the door. In his foul mood, he ignored them.

The person outside seemed to linger for a moment before leaving, worsening his mood. He had been in a bad mood far too often lately; perhaps he needed some calming pills.

Time passed, and suddenly the sound of many footsteps echoed in the guest room. Yuan Zhong abruptly opened his eyes. It was already dusk, and he realized he had fallen asleep, leaning against the bed.

With a flick of his fingers, he lit a candle.

The “clack-clack” sound grew closer.

He looked down to see the guest room door slightly ajar.

Several small wooden figures, even smaller than the one from before, dressed in various colors, were clumsily walking toward the bed.

Yuan Zhong was stunned.

The tiny wooden figures lined up neatly in three rows at his feet, clasped their hands in greeting, and began to sing and dance.

They performed the same “Jianxi” song, and the collective presence of these many little figures was far greater than the single one from the other night. Their swaying robes and high-pitched singing were endearingly serious.

But it didn’t stop there. Several small mechanical birds flew in from behind the door. Delicate and with clear chirps, they were indistinguishable from real birds except for their lack of vibrant feathers. These birds carried flowers in their beaks, circling the wooden figures and scattering petals like rain.

When the song ended, Yuan Zhong’s jaw was still dropped. Another mechanical bird, slightly larger, flew in from behind the door, carrying a small note in its beak. It landed on his arm, bobbing its head with charming intelligence.

Yuan Zhong slowly pulled out the note, which read only three words: “Do you want to eat??”

He looked up to see Tanyin peeking from behind the guest room door, her eyes fixed foolishly on him.

He was both exasperated and amused; all the bad feelings from earlier in the day vanished.

How silly was he? How silly?

Why did he feel like laughing? Why did he suddenly feel so refreshed?

Yuan Zhong deliberately dropped the note and waved away the mechanical magpie. He turned over on the bed, silent.

Before long, a cacophony of chirping, as dense as rainfall, filled the room. His arm felt heavier—seven or eight mechanical birds had landed on it, including magpies, crows, and even a lively little hawk. Each bird held a note in its beak, all with the same three words.

Annoyed by the incessant bird calls, Yuan Zhong sighed and sat up.

Glancing back at the guest room door, he saw Tanyin still in the same position, peeking from behind the door, her eyes full of anticipation.

“Sigh…”

He let out a long sigh and was about to speak when he suddenly noticed a flash of white light outside the window.

It was like lightning, instantly illuminating the surroundings as if it were daylight. Immediately, many people exclaimed in low voices, “The Heavenly Light opened and closed!”

The ‘Heavenly Light had opened and closed’ eight hours earlier than the Immortal Yuqing had predicted.