In an instant, several pairs of eyes all fixed on the clam shell. Shuanglian dared not refuse to answer Nezha, and mumbled hesitantly: "…Only after the Third Prince has his title, would this lowly one dare to have one."
Nezha smiled: "Then shall I go seek a title together with you?"
King Li rebuked: "Nezha! Do not speak recklessly!"
Nezha composed his expression and tucked the Clam Spirit into his bosom. Following behind King Li, he ascended to the Heavenly Court with the heavenly soldiers and generals.
"What are you bringing a clam for?" The pagoda in King Li's hand glowed faintly. The Exquisite Pagoda in his hand was a gift from Daoist Randeng, specifically designed to counter Nezha. King Li had carried it for many years, never letting the pagoda leave his hand.
After all, the grudges between him and Nezha were known throughout the Three Realms. Nezha was petty and vengeful, and King Li had to be on guard.
The Auspicious Clouds of the heavenly soldiers and generals drifted ten thousand miles in an instant. Nezha, following alongside, stepped on his Wind and Fire Wheels, his red robes fluttering: "Just for amusement, and to inform my father."
King Li: "If it's a plaything, keep it well. Do not let playthings distract you from your purpose."
Nezha did not answer. King Li continued: "Immortal Fuyuan governs the marriages of the Three Realms. He once said that although you are a Lotus Incarnation, outside the Five Elements, you still have a destined golden match. Since it is heaven-ordained, you cannot avoid it."
Nezha: "Your son is made of lotus roots, without seven souls or six spirits. What marriage could I have?"
King Li felt he had a point. Could Immortal Fuyuan have been mistaken? Would Nezha, such a reckless troublemaker who feared nothing, actually think of mortal affairs?
Father and son went directly to the Lingxiao Hall, where the Jade Emperor sat upright on his throne. King Li respectfully reported the whole matter from beginning to end. The Jade Emperor pondered, then looked at Nezha.
"Nezha, did you give your full effort?"
Nezha: "That demonic monkey possesses innate divine strength. Neither I nor the Giant Spirit God could defeat him."
The Jade Emperor did not blame him, and waved his hand to let Nezha return to recover from his injuries.
The moment he returned to his quarters, Nezha's feigned solemnity vanished without a trace. He bent his leg and leaned against the side of the couch, grabbing the Clam Spirit: "You ate my lotus and my peach. Promise me—do you remember?"
The pinkish-white clam lay in Nezha's palm, small enough to be held in one hand. Nezha felt the clam was indeed pleasing to the eye—not only were its colors lovely, but the patterns on its shell were like silk ribbons, or like water ripples, shimmering and glistening.
"I remember." The Clam Spirit opened its shell and weakly called out, "Third Prince…"
The Clam Spirit was truly adorable in appearance, and its voice was pleasant to hear as well. After gazing at it for a while, he not only rubbed and stroked it, but wanted to swallow the little clam into his belly in one gulp.
If Shuanglian knew of his thoughts, it would surely cry out "cute aggression."
Cute aggression is related to the brain's emotional regulation. When a person faces something particularly adorable, the brain produces surface-level aggressive impulses—like squeezing or biting—as a way to regulate emotions, but it does not cause actual harm. [Note]
Meanwhile, Nezha reached out his hand and gently touched it. The clam shell trembled slightly. He asked: "Was the lotus tasty?"
Nezha carried the scent of lotus on his body, and even his fingers were fragrant. Shuanglian, crying all the while, sniffed the fragrance delicately: "It was delicious… Third Prince, please be gentle…"
The Clam Spirit's life-preserving water flowed over Nezha's wrist bone, dripping drop by drop onto the ground. He laughed with novelty: "With so much lotus, you're still this greedy?"
Wuu. Shuanglian trembled violently, nearly falling apart.
When Nezha withdrew his hand, the clam shell opened wide, and the table it leaned against was soaked through in a small patch. Nezha picked up a small jade pot: "Little Clam Spirit, I've brought you something nice."
The clam shell opened and closed, breathing fresh air. Nezha watched its water-deprived state and slowly tilted the jade pot, pouring the liquid into the clam shell.
The fragrance of wine filled the air. Its body soaked in the sweet wine, it grew dizzy and lightheaded. The clam shell was stimulated and snapped shut abruptly, but because of the wine, it had to open again.
Nezha said with a serious face: "I made you lose your water just now, so now I'm giving you some. Is the Jade Nectar good?"
The wine was much colder than the Clam Spirit's body temperature. It trembled, extending its tentacles to lick—it was delicious. Shuanglian licked slowly, but could not withstand the intoxicating wine. After drinking only about half a cup, its clam meat trembled and its shell swayed.
"Wuu… delicious, intoxicating."
Nezha reached his hand inside, stirring until the Clam Spirit was dizzy: "Then drink a little more."
There were rumors that drinking Jade Nectar could make one an immortal—perhaps an exaggeration—but it could grant a minor demon several years of cultivation. After getting drunk, the Clam Spirit not only failed to show gratitude, but desperately dodged his fingers, pushing them away with its tentacles.
Nezha had drunk half a bottle of wine himself and was already tipsy. He withdrew his hand and, in a moment of great mercy, did not take offense. Instead, he plucked a lotus flower and tossed it in front of the Clam Spirit.
The Clam Spirit smelled the fragrance and moved over unsteadily, gnawing on the lotus petals like a starving ghost. Nezha bent his leg and leaned against the couch, his beautiful eyes hazy with drunkenness. Beneath his hand, the Clam Spirit was half-drunk, its clam meat curling around the petals, grinding them slowly.
Nezha's gums itched slightly, and the urge to swallow it into his belly grew strong. The dazed Clam Spirit, drunk, clung to the lotus petal without letting go, and mumbled vaguely: "Third Prince, I want to sleep now." Then it slowly drifted off to sleep, its shell opening and closing gently, as if breathing.
Seeing it sleeping so peacefully, Nezha touched it, poked it, wanted to bite down on it in one gulp, to gnaw at the shell with his teeth, to lick the clam meat with his tongue, then swallow the whole Clam Spirit into his belly, letting it stay inside, merging into one—and only spit it out when the Clam Spirit could no longer bear it.
Even Nezha found his own thoughts absurd. It wasn't as if he could eat it—his lotus-made body could not taste anything anyway. He bore it no ill will either. It was purely that seeing it sleeping so peacefully there made him feel unsettled inside, and he wanted to catch it and bully it, so that it would never dare be so adorable again.
The Clam Spirit stirred, half-awake as she opened her small black eyes, curiously looking at Nezha, her gaze saying "you keep looking at me."
Nezha said nothing, reaching out to poke the clam's flesh.
The shell snapped shut instantly, and from within came faint sounds—stealing lotus flowers to eat. Eat, sleep, wake up, eat again.
Under the influence of the alcohol, Nezha felt drowsy. He lay down on the couch, his ears full of the Clam Spirit's munching sounds. Wine emboldens the timid. Having finished the lotus, the Clam Spirit slowly crawled onto the couch, her tentacles slipping out to poke at the firm muscles of his arm.
Hungry. Smells so good. Seeing that Nezha paid no attention, the tentacles tentatively gave a bite.
Nezha suddenly felt a sharp sting on his arm and picked up the little Clam Spirit with two fingers. "Drunk, and bold too."
He tossed her to the side of the couch. The Clam Spirit dawdled, turning her back to him, presenting the shell's rear end.
Nezha said: "So greedy. In a few days at the Peach Banquet, I'll have the Queen Mother of the West seat you at the head table."
The shell cracked open a sliver. Shuanglian ate. Did she know that Sun Wukong was about to wreak havoc in heaven? The peaches would be nearly gone—how could she get a share?
Shuanglian was glum. The peaches grew in the Peach Garden. Nezha was heaven's famously cold-faced war god, going about alone, no pleasures, no friends, just work and standby duty every day, returning to Cloud Tower Palace after field missions.
He would never go to the Peach Garden. By the time of the Peach Banquet, the peaches would all be eaten by the monkey.
Seeing her displeasure, Nezha stretched out his arm: "Eat then."
Sure enough, the Clam Spirit rustled, her tentacles touching his wrist. No taste, only a crisp, clear lotus fragrance. The skin there was thin, blue veins visible. The tentacles touched the pulse point, the pulse beating steadily, lotus fragrance mingled with the smell of wine. Shuanglian felt utterly intoxicated.
Nezha: "You feel my pulse? Don't pretend you don't understand—otherwise, wouldn't you have touched me for nothing?"
The Clam Spirit's bean-sized head pondered, her voice soft and faint: "A pregnancy pulse."
She was tossed into the lotus pond. The drunkenness finally wore off.