Zhong Wuxi turned his head and stared at the little creature in silence. However, the little creature was focused intently on tying the floral string to the braid and ignored his gaze entirely.
Zhong Wuxi: …
With its large eyes and long lashes, the creature’s solemn expression was incredibly adorable. Intrigued, Zhong Wuxi leaned in and praised it. “The floral string you braided is beautiful.”
The little creature lifted its eyelids to glance at him before lowering its head to fiddle with the braid again.
This creature was only the size of a palm, looking remarkably like an indistinct doll. Zhong Wuxi thought it would look quite charming if it wore a dress and sported braided hair.
“I see you like braids,” Zhong Wuxi remarked. “Would you like me to braid your hair for you?”
The little creature became thoroughly angry, hiding both the tiny braid and the floral string, and turning its back to ignore him.
“I was wrong,” Zhong Wuxi said sincerely. “The floral string you made is beautiful. Could you teach me how to do it?”
The little creature nodded, blinking its eyes happily.
Although the little creature’s face was identical to his Master’s, his Master was not nearly so easy to coax. A thought struck Zhong Wuxi. “You know my Master, don’t you?”
The little creature nodded.
Zhong Wuxi pursed his lips, continuing his questioning with a trace of nervousness. “What is your relationship with my Master?”
This time, the little creature neither nodded nor shook its head. It paused to think, but it seemed unable to remember anything.
The little creature appeared distressed, so Zhong Wuxi quickly changed the subject. “I am seventeen this year. How about you?”
The little creature thought for a moment and held up both hands to indicate fifteen.
“Really? I do not believe you.”
At this, the little creature became truly furious. It pulled a handful of red petals from its sleeves, tossed them onto Zhong Wuxi’s head, and floated away without looking back.
“Zhong, Junior Martial Uncle!”
Just as Zhong Wuxi was about to go after the little creature, he heard his name called. Turning around, he saw Zongzheng Lan flying toward him on his sword. The little phoenix looked as he did in childhood: handsome, fair-skinned, and with crimson pupils that burned like flames in the sunlight.
Zhong Wuxi circled him. “How can you fly on a sword?”
Zongzheng Lan frowned. “Why should I not be able to?”
“You could have transformed into your true form to fly over. I have never seen a phoenix.”
In his modern life, Zhong Wuxi had read many accounts of phoenixes. Legend held that the phoenix was a pair of divine beasts: the male was called Feng, and the female Huang. They were the kings of all birds and, alongside the dragon and the qilin, were known as the three great ancient auspicious beasts. What Zhong Wuxi envied most was their ability to be reborn from fire, immortal and indestructible. Such a powerful bloodline destined Zongzheng Lan to be the protagonist of this story, especially as he was also a prince of the Xiling Dynasty.
Zhong Wuxi sighed.
“If I were to transform into my true form too often, I fear Piaomiao Peak would be reduced to ashes.”
Piaomiao Peak. Zhong Wuxi remembered that Zongzheng Lan was a disciple of the Sect Leader, Xuan Su. The Sect Leader had a Water Spirit Root, yet the little phoenix before him possessed a pure Fire Spirit Root.
“Water and fire are incompatible. How did you come to be under the Sect Leader’s tutelage? I thought you would study under Fourth Senior Brother Xuan Mu, as he is the only elder with a Fire Spirit Root.”
Zongzheng Lan glanced at him. “If you wish to know, come and spar with me in the secret realm.”
“So you came to Jimo Peak specifically to spar with me?” Zhong Wuxi nodded. “Wait until I inform my Master.”
“Hold on.” Zongzheng Lan reached out to brush the red petals from his hair. “How can one appear before their teacher in such disarray?”
“You ancients have so many rules,” Zhong Wuxi muttered softly. “I am only two years older than you, yet you are already so much taller. Is there no justice in this world?”
He jumped up on his tiptoes, and Zongzheng Lan’s hand accidentally brushed his eyelashes.
“What is the matter?” Seeing Zongzheng Lan stunned and motionless, Zhong Wuxi blinked. “Don’t tell me you saw my Master?”
He turned around and indeed saw his Master standing beneath a pear tree.
“Master!” Zhong Wuxi waved happily and introduced Zongzheng Lan. “This is Senior Brother Sect Leader’s personal disciple, Zongzheng Lan, also His Highness, the prince of the Xiling Dynasty.”
Zongzheng Lan bowed respectfully. “Disciple Zongzheng Lan pays respects to the Holy Monarch.”
Yin Jiuli looked at him coldly. “What is it?”
“Junior Martial Nephew Zongzheng Lan wishes to spar with this disciple,” Zhong Wuxi explained. “Master, may I go?”
“You may.”
The jade tokens of all personal disciples of the Xuanqing Sect could open secret realms. Once inside, Zongzheng Lan kept his face stern. Thinking he had been intimidated by his Master, Zhong Wuxi tried to comfort him.
“Do not be afraid. My Master may appear cold, but he is actually very fond of young disciples like you.”
Zongzheng Lan shook his head. “A strict teacher produces brilliant students; the Holy Monarch is excellent.”
“Is my Master very strict?” Zhong Wuxi asked, puzzled. “When I was in poor health, he had me postpone Foundation Establishment. He did not mind my cultivation speed, nor did he punish me for being lazy.”
Zongzheng Lan replied, “Aside from descending the mountain, I do not need to report to my Master whenever I go anywhere.”
“From that perspective, my Master is indeed strict.” Zhong Wuxi smiled at him. “But you just said ‘a strict teacher produces brilliant students.’ Is this ‘brilliant student’ a compliment to me?”
“No wonder you insisted on sparring with me. I see.”
Zongzheng Lan snorted coldly and conjured a high platform with a spell. “We shall see who is superior. I will not hold back.”
Zhong Wuxi felt his fighting spirit ignited. “I will not hold back either.”
However, their match ended in a draw. Zhong Wuxi had many treasures gifted by his Master and senior siblings, and as the son of the Xiling Emperor, Zongzheng Lan’s arsenal was no less impressive.
“Next time, neither of us shall use magical artifacts,” Zhong Wuxi suggested. “We will compete based on cultivation alone.”
“Agreed.”
Zhong Wuxi looked at him with wonder. “Your temperament seems to have changed quite a bit. Then again, the Xuanqing Sect is a place apart from the world; none of the disciples here are permitted to harbor class consciousness or status distinctions.”
Seeing someone he had not seen in a long time brought back memories. Zhong Wuxi reminisced, “When we first met, you said you would let me be your kitten, and you would keep me safe from death.”
“I cannot be a kitten now, but my life truly does seem to rely on you to keep it safe.”
Zongzheng Lan turned away.
The youngest Elder of the Xuanqing Sect stood against the light, the sun casting a faint gold hue on his lashes.
Still like a cat.
According to the original plot, Zongzheng Lan would descend the mountain to undergo training at fifteen. The canon fodder Zhong Wuxi, jealous of Zongzheng Lan’s background and talent, would frame him repeatedly, leading to his own expulsion and eventual fall into the demonic path. Zongzheng Lan had just turned fifteen.
Zhong Wuxi started. “Are you going down the mountain for training soon?”
Zongzheng Lan looked at him. “Why? Can you not bear to let this prince go?”
Zhong Wuxi rested his chin on his hand and sighed sorrowfully. “Of course I cannot bear it!”