They landed in a tree, where the gentle breeze transformed into a fierce gale. The wind billowed Zhong Wuxi’s flowing Daoist robe, pulling it into a round arc. Still reeling from the terror of weightlessness, he leaned against Yin Jiuli, pale and trembling like a frightened cat.
Yin Jiuli stroked his disciple’s head and glided toward the snow hut. The wind was so strong that the ribbon in Zhong Wuxi’s hair was snatched away, causing his silver hair to spill down like a waterfall. They touched down on the snow, and Yin Jiuli stood upright, stepping back. His black hair and Zhong Wuxi’s silver hair briefly tangled at the shoulder before parting.
“Are you injured?”
His Master’s voice was as cool as a hidden mountain spring, yet it carried a warmth that melted into gentle, clear concern. Zhong Wuxi looked up at Yin Jiuli. This was his Master, the man who had accompanied him to this day and the person who treated him better than anyone else in the world. He reached out and grabbed the edge of Yin Jiuli’s robe. “Master, I am afraid.”
When he was seven, some children at the orphanage had pushed him from a tree. Though the tree was not high and he had not been seriously hurt, he never forgot the feeling of weightlessness: the sensation of trying to grab something and finding nothing, leaving him to fall helplessly.
“Come.”
Zhong Wuxi gripped the robe tighter. “No.”
“Once a spirit beast acknowledges its master, it will share a mental connection with you.”
“No.” Zhong Wuxi shook his head. He wanted to do nothing; he only wanted to stay here quietly and have his Master keep him company.
Zhong Wuxi blinked and let go of the white sleeve, then hugged his Master’s arm with lightning speed. Yin Jiuli tried to move, but his disciple clung tighter, staring at him with wide eyes. Zhong Wuxi looked up at Yin Jiuli, his eyes filled with a clear light. The white-robed, ink-haired Immortal remained unmoved, his face forever veiled in indifference; even the way he tried to pull his hand away was chillingly cold.
Zhong Wuxi lowered his head, feeling as though the snow on Jimo Peak had grown colder. But in the next second, someone shielded him from the falling snow.
As the sun sank low, casting long shadows, Zhong Wuxi turned to look at Yin Jiuli’s profile, softened by the twilight. He curled his fingers, confirming that his hand was indeed being held by his Master.
“Master.”
The Immortal turned his head, and Zhong Wuxi curled the corners of his lips into a smile.
The Flame-Ice Beast, sensing it had caused a disaster, lay motionless on the ground, drooping in shame. Yin Jiuli led Zhong Wuxi toward it.
“After you draw blood to acknowledge it as your master, it will share a connection with your mind.”
Zhong Wuxi stared blankly at the creature. The temperature in his Master’s palm was peculiar, like thousand-year-old cold jade from the Northern Underworld: icy to the bone, yet radiating a hidden warmth. Jimo Peak was covered in snow year-round, so Zhong Wuxi’s hands were always freezing. But with his Master holding his hand, his own fingertips grew warm and glowing.
“Reach out.”
Zhong Wuxi rubbed his face and extended his hand. A snowflake drifted across his fingertip, cutting his finger. After the ritual, he seemed to establish a unique connection with the Flame-Ice Beast. Though it still could not speak, Zhong Wuxi could understand its intent.
“From now on, you are called Xiao Xue, alright? If you do not like the name Xiao Xue, I can think of a better one.”
A crisp bird call rang out. Zhong Wuxi nodded. “Then you are Xiao Xue.”
“By the way, Xiao Xue, are you a female spirit beast or a male spirit beast?”
The Flame-Ice Beast tilted its head, pondering for a long while before freezing in place. It looked devastated, and the crimson feathers on its forehead dimmed.
Zhong Wuxi asked, puzzled, “Master, why can it no longer understand what I am saying?”
The Snow Cloud Ribbon was furious; this dull bird was acting cute. Not only was it acting cute, but it was also playing the victim!
The Snow Cloud Ribbon flew out of the qiankun bag in a fit of rage, reverted to its true form, and pounced into Zhong Wuxi’s arms, rubbing its nine fluffy tails against its master. Zhong Wuxi freed the hand he was holding and hugged it. “What is wrong?”
The Snow Cloud Ribbon had intended to act spoiled, but the cold aura radiating from the white-robed fiend nearby was too chilling. It shivered and buried its head in Zhong Wuxi’s chest.
“Nothing, I just wanted to say the Flame-Ice Beast has no gender; it is so scary.”
While comforting the little fur ball, Zhong Wuxi asked, “Master, why is it genderless?”
Yin Jiuli flicked his sleeve, and an ancient book flew from his qiankun bag, hovering before Zhong Wuxi. Since he could not spare a hand, Zhong Wuxi used a spell to read the contents. It turned out that in the Qingyuan Realm, there existed a place where ice and fire converged. Ice and fire were naturally incompatible, but under the harmony of heaven and earth, a spirit beast was born. The Flame-Ice Beast was a creature nurtured by the spiritual energy of the world itself.
“No gender, a soul but no spirit.” Zhong Wuxi realized with a start. No wonder the beast looked noble and beautiful but acted so dim-witted.
The Snow Cloud Ribbon could not bear for its master to care for that dull bird and retreated back into the qiankun bag, out of sight and out of mind.
Zhong Wuxi pursed his lips and leaned toward Yin Jiuli. “Master, the sun has set and the air is cold. My hands are a bit chilly.”
Yin Jiuli gave him a cold glance and walked into the snow hut.
Zhong Wuxi set up two barriers and turned to look at the Little Ball floating in mid-air. “Why are you flickering in and out of existence today? You appear and disappear so frequently; you nearly scared me to death.”
The Little Ball seemed to be in a good mood, resting its cheeks on its hands with a smile. Seeing it staring at his head, Zhong Wuxi reached up to touch it. “My hair ribbon was blown away by the wind. Is my hair very messy?”
The Little Ball shook its head and stood on the snow, rolling a small snowball. Moments later, it had sculpted the snow into the shape of Zhong Wuxi.
Zhong Wuxi crouched down. “Though it is a bit small, you sculpted it very well.”
The Little Ball looked up, stared at Zhong Wuxi’s head, and rolled two tiny snowballs, shaping them into triangles and placing them on the head of the snow figure. From a distance, it looked like two white cat ears sprouting from the snow figure’s hair.
Zhong Wuxi remained silent.
It seemed his Master’s gaze had lingered on his hair for a moment earlier as well. He had been in this world for fourteen years and was certain he was a human, not some other creature. But he reached up suspiciously and touched the top of his head.
Following his likeness, the Little Ball quickly sculpted a small snow cat with raised paws and placed it beside the snow figure with cat ears.
Zhong Wuxi remained silent.
He turned his head and stared in silence at the Little Ball, which was rolling on the ground with glee. Tired of laughing, the creature lay on the snow and watched the stars. Watching its body grow more transparent, Zhong Wuxi decided not to hold a grudge about the cat incident.
A breeze carried the scent of snow from Jimo Peak, mixed with the faint, clear sweetness of pear blossoms. Zhong Wuxi looked up at the vast, boundless night sky. In such bright, distant starlight, everyone’s worries seemed insignificant. Those troubled days would pass, and only the stars would remain eternal.
“If I could become a star after I die and accompany Master every day, that would be nice.”
Zhong Wuxi had transmigrated from the modern world, which taught him that people did not turn into stars after death, but it had not provided the kind of companionship he had with his Master.
The Snow Cloud Ribbon crawled out of the qiankun bag and retorted, “With me here, how could you possibly die?”
Zhong Wuxi teased it. “You are that powerful?”
“Of course!” The Snow Cloud Ribbon glanced at the dull bird standing in the distance and lashed its nine fluffy tails with calculated vanity. “In any case, with me here, you will never die!”
“I am much more powerful than that dull bird!”
Zhong Wuxi tugged at its long ears. “Its name is Xiao Xue.”
The Snow Cloud Ribbon rescued its ears and hugged them. “Master, you named that dull bird Xiao Xue, and my name is Snow Cloud Ribbon. Are you treating it as a substitute for me?”
Zhong Wuxi remained silent.
“Sister Qingluan often tells me stories about humans, and she writes many scripts.” The Snow Cloud Ribbon concluded firmly. “Sister Qingluan says that when a person loves another but cannot be with them, they find a substitute.”
It glanced smugly at the dazed Flame-Ice Beast. “Master must love me the most!”
Just as Zhong Wuxi was about to respond, the Little Ball lying on the ground floated over, glaring angrily at the Snow Cloud Ribbon.