The Clam Spirit pushed open the door, rolled into the corner of the wall, and with both hands tugged at the hem of her skirt. Her silk socks had been rubbed off, and her bare calves and thighs were delicate and fair-skinned, now marked with red fingerprints pressed into them for no apparent reason.
The little Clam Spirit saw the red marks and her lips trembled. There was one on each calf—marks left when Nezha, growing impatient with her kicking legs during their struggle, had grabbed her calves and pressed down. Looking at her thighs, there were marks on both the left and right. Clearly, when he had buried his head between them, his two hands had pressed against her legs, his fingertips leaving imprints as they squeezed and explored.
He had taken his fill, his grip strong—taking and grabbing all at once.
Shuanglian stared at her inner thighs, where marks from lips and tongue had been sucked out, one layered upon another. Her skin was like white jade, now marred by overlapping pink strawberry marks.
She pulled out her crumpled dress and straightened it to cover her ankles.
Covering the red marks left by that wicked one, she let out a breath. But Shuanglian had no time to relax—she tilted her head and saw Nezha sitting cross-legged on the edge of the couch, his lips glistening with moisture, his long, red-rimmed eyes deep and unfathomable, fixed on her upper body.
Shuanglian looked down. Her outer robe had slipped off her arms, hanging lazily at her elbows. Her chest-high ruqun had been pulled down to her waist, leaving only her small undergarment, damp in two spots.
"…"
The culprit watched as crimson flew across her cheeks. Nezha picked up the wine flask beside him, poured a cup, and drank it down.
Meeting his eyes, she quickly lowered her head, fingers twisting her sash as she tied her clothes.
Suddenly, a voice came from the doorway. A celestial boy called into Yunlou Palace: "Third Prince Nezha, the Jade Emperor remembers your merits in subduing demons and bestows additional rewards."
Hearing this, Shuanglian hurriedly dressed herself.
Top on, skirt on. But there was a bite mark on her neck, and her lips had been kissed and nibbled red. There was nothing to be done about it, so she could only hug her knees and bury her face in them.
Ah. Nezha thought she looked truly pitiful, with nowhere to hide. He ordered the celestial boy to leave the items in the outer hall, then walked barefoot across the floor and rummaged through the tray.
Aside from the usual Golden Flower Imperial Wine, Alchemy Pills, and delicacies, there were also immortal robes and jade ornaments—clearly women's clothing and accessories.
Nezha picked out a plate of food and draped a set of robes over his arm as he entered the inner hall. The Clam Spirit was still burying her head, silently counting the embroidered petals on the bedding.
Nezha: "Not going to see the monkey?"
She looked up. Nezha grabbed her ankle and pulled her over, personally putting her silk socks on for her.
The silk socks only reached her ankle, and Nezha's hand held her foot. Shuanglian was ticklish—when his fingers touched the sole of her foot, she shrank back, but couldn't break free.
Nezha's fingertip scraped across her sole, then he suddenly let go and went to wash his hands at the lotus pond: "Put them on. This prince doesn't wait on people."
"Oh." Shuanglian put on her shoes and socks, then paced around the hall. "The things the Jade Emperor gifted are comfortable to wear."
When Nezha didn't respond, Shuanglian ran up to him: "Third Prince, should I go now?"
Nezha glanced at her: "Ride the Small Auspicious Cloud there."
She hung her head dejectedly: "Too slow."
The moment she said it, Nezha scooped her up by the waist. Shuanglian gasped and wrapped her arms around his neck.
Nezha: "This prince will just carry you there himself."
And that's exactly what he did—carrying Shuanglian down the mountain. His mouth said "so light," but his hand wandered shamelessly around her waist. The wide hem of his robes concealed his movements as Nezha's fingertips sank into her soft flesh, murmuring to himself: "Soft."
He carried Shuanglian down from the Heavenly Court and set her down before Five Elements Mountain.
The heavenly soldiers and generals overseeing Sun Wukong saw the two of them and the food they brought, and silently let them pass.
The idea of feeding Sun Wukong Iron Pellets and Copper Juice had come from Ruyi, and the heavenly soldiers and generals dared not defy it.
They also dared not refuse Nezha's orders. Fortunately, the Heavenly Court had always turned a blind eye to this young lord—as long as he didn't cause a major disturbance, they simply turned the page.
The path was unobstructed. Pushing aside the leaves, Shuanglian looked up into the sunlight and instead saw two unexpected people.
—Guanyin Bodhisattva and Muzha stood atop Five Elements Mountain, where the Buddha's seal was affixed, bearing the six-character mantra: "Om Mani Padme Hum."
Shuanglian walked to the foot of the mountain and asked Sun Wukong: "What are Bodhisattva Grandma and Muzha doing?"
Sun Wukong, unable to move his body, replied: "They're exposing this Old Sun's shame! The matter of my great havoc in the Heavenly Court—how mighty I was back then, and today I've fallen to such a state!"
"Hey, little Clam Spirit, have you and the Third Prince been thinking of my good points?"
Shuanglian took out the wine flask and poured wine for Sun Wukong. As they waited, Nezha idly polished his Fire-Tipped Spear.
Guanyin and Muzha descended the mountain together. The two of them paid no heed to Shuanglian feeding the monkey, and walked before Nezha.
Nezha: "Bodhisattva, what brings you here?"
Guanyin said slowly: "I was passing by Five Elements Mountain and came specifically to see the Great Sage." [Note]
Guanyin looked at Sun Wukong. The monkey tilted his head back, catching grapes from the Clam Spirit's hand, muttering "delicious" and "delicious" between bites. This demonic monkey showed no sign of remorse—if Sun Wukong were to atone for his sins by undertaking the pilgrimage…
Guanyin felt uneasy. She glanced at Nezha. Nezha was capable, reliable, of proper standing—a ready-made candidate.
Seeing his master's gaze fall on Nezha, Muzha broke into a cold sweat. On the road here, he and the Bodhisattva had successively subdued Sha Wujing and Zhu Wuneng—two demons who, bearing their sins, had sincerely repented. The pilgrimage was their only path to cultivation.
But Nezha was different.
Muzha knew his third brother's temperament well. Nezha was a general of the Heavenly Court, not suited for this. He was always swift and decisive—when he went into battle, he'd string demons up on his Fire-Tipped Spear like skewers.
If Nezha were sent on the pilgrimage, the hardships of the ascetic journey would likely be transferred to the demons themselves—he would be no ascetic monk.
Before the words of advice could leave his mouth, Muzha heard Guanyin say to Nezha, "I have come on the orders of the Buddha to seek the one who will undertake the pilgrimage for scriptures."
Nezha: "Whose tendons are we taking?"
At these words, utter silence fell. Even Shuanglian looked up, the grape in hand dropping to the ground with a soft thud.
Sun Wukong's heart ached terribly, and he sighed repeatedly.
Shuanglian picked a fresh grape and fed it to the Great Sage. Then she tugged at Nezha's Universe-Overturning Silk and whispered, "To fetch the Buddhist scriptures."
A different approach—so Nezha was not taking anyone's tendons after all?
Guanyin shook her head, smiling benevolently at Sun Wukong. "Great Sage, do you remember me?"
Muzha breathed a sigh of relief when he saw his master abandon the idea.
…
In the end, Guanyin chose Sun Wukong to undertake the pilgrimage, instructing him to wait quietly beneath the Five Elements Mountain for the one who would come for him.
Afterwards, Guanyin and Muzha bid farewell to Sun Wukong and set off for the Great Tang in the east to find the pilgrim.
Guanyin rode the clouds, Muzha following alongside, while Nezha brought Shuanglian and trailed after them. There was little to do—the search was merely a pretext.
Chang'an was at the height of its splendor, bustling and clamorous. Shuanglian found everything novel, and Nezha walked beside her, letting her wander as she pleased.
They walked slowly, and Muzha turned back with a sigh. "Third Brother truly dotes on the little Clam Spirit."
Guanyin had taken on the guise of a mortal. "A match made in heaven has its own reasoning."
Muzha lowered his voice. "Master, there is something that has puzzled me for a long time. Third Brother has no seven souls or six spirits, having leapt beyond the cycle of reincarnation—how could he have a heavenly ordained match?"
Guanyin pressed her palms together. "In the register of fates for others, the soul numbers are written. For him alone, there remains but a single Lotus Heart."
Nezha had no soul, so no red thread could be tied to him. But heaven's way takes from the surplus to make up for the deficient—a single Lotus Heart remained. Lotus roots have threads that never break; where the heart resides, there the thread of fate is bound.
A mortal's red thread may snap, but the threads of lotus root never cease.
Muzha fell into thought and spoke no more.
As dusk deepened, they found a quiet residence to stay in. The house was exquisite—a three-courtyard compound with white walls and gray tiles, planted with green trees and red flowers in the yard.
Guanyin and Muzha discussed matters in the courtyard. Shuanglian, exhausted from walking, was carried on Nezha's back, yawning from a poor night's sleep. "Third Prince, what will I do in Chang'an?"
Nezha carried her into the chamber. "Play."
"Oh."
He laid Shuanglian on the couch, removed her shoes and socks, and wiped her feet clean with a cloth. Her feet were just small enough to fit in his hand. Nezha looked at them, his movements slowing slower and slower, until he tossed the cloth aside and let his palm slide up her bare calf. "How comfortable are the things the Jade Emperor bestowed? Let me see."
His slowness had fully woken Shuanglian. She sat up and saw her foot resting on Nezha's knee.
Nezha held it fast and asked without warning, "Was this morning comfortable?"
Her face flushed slowly. "It was unbearable."
Nezha: "Unbearable? Biting your tongue between your teeth, face flushed crimson, eyes half-lidded, greedy and desperate all at once—I drank for ages and still couldn't get enough. That's unbearable?"
Shuanglian did not react. The little Clam Spirit stared at him, lips parted slightly.
Nezha felt thirsty again.
Spirits were truly cunning. That morning, after realizing begging for mercy wouldn't work, she had tried to drown herself.
But her scheme hadn't worked at all—it had only stoked his fire higher.
Nezha knelt on one knee, gripping her ankle, the heat beneath his robes scalding beyond belief.
When it got that unbearable, the Clam Spirit tried to run. Nezha pulled her back, his hand sliding upward, then leaned down to kiss her lips, his tongue sweeping in and turning the little Clam Spirit's world upside down.
From childhood to now, Nezha had possessed many things. But she was the first living creature—the first living thing with a will of its own.
Nezha didn't know how to quell the fire in his heart. He'd tried his hands, his mouth, his tongue, his teeth—nothing helped. All he knew was that he had to hold her in his grasp and never let go.
The Clam Spirit instinctively sensed danger and tried to pull her foot back. Nezha's strength was great—he didn't hurt her, but he didn't let her retreat either.
His palm slid from her thigh down to her calf, wrapping around the sole of her foot. Nezha kissed her resisting fingertips, took her fingers into his mouth, and licked them one by one.
The Clam Spirit's body was truly strange—every part of it made him adore her.
Nezha said, "I treat you so well—can't you let me have a little pleasure?"
The Clam Spirit's sole burned at his touch, toes curling inward, legs trembling.