The man had recently become fond of coming home.
Every two or three days, he would return at least once, and before leaving each time, he would tell her roughly when he would be back next.
That day, Shi Yeshan was just about to leave when Su Zhai tugged at the corner of his robe. "Look at this."
It was a palm-sized mirror, an immortal artifact, reflecting people with perfect clarity.
Ordinary people mostly used bronze mirrors, and Su Zhai was no exception, so this small mirror counted as something precious.
"This was a gift from Sister-in-law Fang, who lives at the west end of the village. Her husband has joined the Qingyang Sect and will henceforth step onto the path of immortality. She feels very proud, so she gave gifts to many people in the village."
Su Zhai rambled on: "But I don't have anything to give her in return. Could you help me look around outside for something suitable to gift her? By the way, can this mirror be sold for money?"
"You don't like this mirror?" Shi Yeshan asked her in return. "And what would you do with the money if you sold it?"
"It's not that I like it or not." Su Zhai said with some hesitation, "I'm just afraid your money won't be enough to buy things."
Everyone in the village farmed the land, but not for grain—they grew a spiritual herb called Mianzhu Grass, which immortals would come to collect for alchemy. They depended on the heavens for their livelihood, and their income was passable.
But Su Zhai and Shi Yeshan had no land in the village, living solely on Shi Yeshan's wages. Su Zhai always felt uneasy at heart and didn't dare spend money carelessly.
At least there were no car loans or mortgages to worry about.
Shi Yeshan tucked the mirror into his sleeve. "Understood."
Only as he was leaving did he tell her, "I'll be back tomorrow."
To the southwest of Jianzhou lay a small kingdom called Li. Its ruler was obsessed with attaining immortality, pouring the nation's full strength into recruiting rogue cultivators as court alchemists—but in truth, he killed those cultivators and refined their flesh and blood into pills, desperately attempting to awaken his Immortal Bone.
He did succeed, in a manner of speaking. But his obsession ran too deep—the path of immortals would not accept him, while the demonic gate swung wide open. A mortal body entering the demonic realm was exceedingly rare, and this ruler became a true monster.
The troublesome part was that he was a sovereign king, forcing his subjects to sign a Demonic Covenant binding their fates to his. If he were to be eliminated, the kingdom would suffer fifty years of heavenly punishment, costing millions of innocent mortals their lives.
Many cultivators were at their wit's end. Lin Wei, with no other choice, sent a voice transmission to his grand-master—that is, Shi Yeshan himself.
Gazing at the violet-tinged sky thick with aura, Shi Yeshan clasped his hands behind his back and sighed. "One hesitates to throw a stone for fear of hitting the vase. I truly cannot act."
The moment those words fell, the violet sky was split open by a gap of white blade-light. Immortal Lord Ziying, always overbearing and reckless, rode straight into the heart of the imperial palace, cutting his way directly to the ruler's presence.
Lin Wei hurried after him, warning, "Grand-master, this man cannot be killed."
This was hardly a man.
It looked more like a long maggot—a plump, pale body, thin little limbs, and a shriveled head tucked at the front, staring at Shi Yeshan in terror.
"Immortal Lord Ziying." It gasped, whether in joy or fear unclear. "It's Immortal Lord Ziying, haha…"
Before it could finish laughing, its head was already separated from its body.
Shi Yeshan's blade fell in one stroke. The head, still wearing an expression of shock, rolled with a clatter from the pure gold dragon throne, tumbling all the way to Shi Yeshan's feet, where he casually crushed it underfoot and kicked it away.
The eyeball bounced to Lin Wei's feet, and he hastily dodged aside.
"Lin Wei." Shi Yeshan beckoned. "Use Detached Fire to burn him clean."
Lin Wei clasped his hands in salute, though his tone carried hesitation. "Yes."
He still asked anyway: "Grand-master, the Demonic Covenant has already taken effect. He was the vessel of the kingdom's fate—now that he's dead, this small nation will hardly escape calamity."
"I know." Shi Yeshan acknowledged, hands clasped behind his back as he watched Lin Wei ignite the Detached Fire and cast the demon's soul into the flames.
Within the sea of fire, the demon's hideous face was reflected, repeatedly charging against the blaze—until Shi Yeshan reached out with a finger and drew out a talisman traced in lines of fire.
That talisman was the Demonic Covenant. Now that the demon was dead, it had not dissipated; instead, it drifted to Shi Yeshan's front and burned even brighter.
Lin Wei exclaimed in shock, "Grand-master, you intend to take on the Covenant in the demon's place? Absolutely not!"
Shouldering the fate of an entire nation was hardly a boon for a cultivator.
The demon had been a sovereign, naturally enjoying the offerings of thousands of subjects, drawing nourishment from those offerings to continuously refine his soul.
But Shi Yeshan had not yet ascended to godhood—he was merely a cultivator. He could gain no benefit from such offerings; instead, he would be burdened by the people's wicked thoughts, which would slowly devour his own spiritual power.
If his will were not resolute, then with the slightest misstep, he would fall into demonhood.
The Covenant was sealed.
Shi Yeshan brushed the black ash from his sleeves and glanced at the distant sky. "What time is it now?"
Lin Wei replied, "It is already noon."
Shi Yeshan had left home yesterday, flown here on his sword, and fought his way into the imperial city—so much time had passed.
If he left now, he could still make it home before dark.
Shi Yeshan had just turned around when something seemed to occur to him. He halted mid-step, studying the demon lord's plump, pale, massive frame. A sword aura condensed in his palm, and without a word, he struck.
The ornate, intricate dragon throne shattered into pieces, clattering to the ground in fragments.
There were still enemies!
Lin Wei was taken aback and immediately raised his sword to form a formation, but Shi Yeshan withdrew his attack after that single strike. He stepped forward alone, rummaged through the scattered bits of flesh on the floor for a moment, then fastidiously picked out several night pearls embedded in the throne and tucked them into his robes. He casually tossed a palm-sized mercury mirror onto the ground before striding off again.
Lin Wei watched all of this with a strange look in his eyes, feeling increasingly unable to fathom his grandmaster's current intentions. A sense of frustration crept over him.
Yet the problem that had troubled him for half a month was, in his grandmaster's eyes, a trivial matter not worth worrying over.
The method of substituting a binding contract for the demon lord was not impossible, but Lin Wei had never considered it.
Gazing at the clouds stirred up by Shi Yeshan, Lin Wei thought absently—though his grandmaster had not ascended to immortality, he was no different from a god.
A person's greatness was not only reflected in their strength.
By the time they returned to Seven Peaks Peak, dusk was just beginning to fall, but Su Zhai was not at home.
She had gone off to Liu Erniang's house to play again, but today she came back in a sullen mood, kicking pebbles all the way home and plucking a small yellow flower that had been blooming nicely by the courtyard gate.
She didn't seem particularly concerned to see Shi Yeshan at home, only saying she'd go make him dinner.
Shi Yeshan looked at her. "I've already eaten out."
"Oh," Su Zhai said, then turned and flopped onto the recliner in the courtyard, giving it a half-hearted rock or two before lying still, eyes open, gazing at the stars above. "The stars are so pretty tonight."
Every night's stars were pretty—it truly felt as though a Milky Way hung overhead.
Shi Yeshan quietly kept her company, watching the sky. Before long, he heard her breathing grow deep and even—she had fallen asleep.
He carried her back to bed and saw that her brows were still slightly furrowed, as if she were thinking about something.
The lingering effects of the Heat Venom were long gone.
He didn't know what dream Su Zhai was having, or what worries filled it.
He fetched a basin of warm water, soaked a cloth, and wiped her face and hands. A single small cloth was enough to wrap around her entire hand. Shi Yeshan thought—she was small in stature, and her worries were small too.
The next day, Su Zhai didn't go out. She picked up a storybook Shi Yeshan had brought back and read it slowly.
She still struggled somewhat with the traditional characters, tracing them with her finger on the table as she read. Over these past days, she had learned to write quite a few characters.
A rustling sound came from outside the courtyard gate. Su Zhai put down her book to look, and happened to catch Shi Yeshan returning—in his hand, he carried a weasel.
This, Su Zhai didn't quite dare to eat. She quickly waved her hands. "Better not eat a weasel."
The creature suddenly let out a fierce "rawr" at her, its eyes flashing with menace.
Huh, it wasn't a weasel.
…It was a red panda!
Shi Yeshan tossed it down at Su Zhai's feet. "Caught it to keep as a pet for you. It's a Nine-Jointed Wolf."
"It's a red panda." Su Zhai bent down halfway, wanting to reach out and touch it, but its gaze was unfriendly—not the ferocity of an animal, but a furious, rejecting look that clearly said "stay away."
Like a person.
She froze, stepped aside a few paces, and studied it. "Is it injured?"
Shi Yeshan didn't know either. He looked at the little beast along with her, giving a slight nod of his chin as if expecting it to answer.
"There seems to be some blood on its belly. If it's hurt, we can put some medicine on it, and once it's healed, we'll let it go." Su Zhai explained, "It has a fierce look—it's probably not used to being kept by humans."
But Su Zhai also found the red panda utterly adorable. She hesitated, still wanting to reach out and hold it, but the creature swiftly scrambled up the wall in a few quick bounds, turning back to look at her with a challenging glare.
Yet it didn't flee. Instead, it stole fearful glances at Shi Yeshan from the corner of its eye, letting out a few low whimpers.
Su Zhai's heart softened at the sight.
"Good little baby." She tilted her head up, making her voice as gentle as possible. "I won't hurt you. Why don't you come down and let me see where you're hurt, okay?"
Shi Yeshan let out a low cough.
Su Zhai tentatively crept a step or two closer, raising both hands to coax it. "Good baby, come on down. I don't look like a bad person, do I?"
She looked like…
Well, not like herself, at any rate.
The red panda couldn't resist the baby-talk voice either. Its exposed claws gradually retracted, its bristling fur smoothed down, and its front body slowly lowered—though it was still watching Shi Yeshan's expression.
Shi Yeshan's face looked somewhat strange, even tinged with disdain.
Pathetic thing—coaxed into submission with just a few words.
Su Zhai quietly rose onto her tiptoes, arms spread wide, ready to scoop it down. But at that very moment, a strange north wind happened to blow, threading through her fingers and striking the red panda. It startled with a "yip" and immediately flipped off the wall, fleeing.
Su Zhai was deeply disappointed. "So close."
Then her expression turned worried. "Can it protect itself? If it's injured and released back into the wild, will it survive?"
Red pandas are protected animals, after all.
Su Zhai suspected that the wound had been inflicted by Shi Yeshan, and although there were no laws to constrain anyone these days, she couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt.
As she thought this, Su Zhai turned around, only to see Shi Yeshan raise one hand in front of him and slowly roll up his sleeve.
Su Zhai let out a startled cry.
She hadn't noticed earlier—his forearm was injured, with a wound half a palm in size, bloody and raw.
Blood beads kept seeping from the wound, converging into a thin trickle that dripped down his fingertips and fell to the ground.
So it was he who had been hurt.