Shuanglian, sobered up, moved to the shore. Nezha was drunk, the tips of his ears flushed red, eyes closed, the red at his brows and the corners of his eyes deepened slightly.
The Clam Spirit's small black eyes stared for a while. Nezha was indeed handsome—could even be called beautiful. It was just that his usual killing aura was too heavy; only with his eyes closed did his true delicate features show.
Shuanglian moved to his thigh, rubbing its shell against him, not daring to speak.
Its whole body radiated an air of "I'm sorry, I was wrong" and "Forgive me." The offended Nezha was sulking, but the clam gently pressed against his hanging palm, the warmth of his hand soothing against its icy shell.
Nezha's ink-black hair hung by his hand. The clam opened its shell and quickly reached out to nip a strand of hair—soft, cool, and smooth.
Suddenly, fingers slipped into the shell, two fingers pinching the clam's flesh. The Clam Spirit let out a startled "Ah!" Then, as if nothing had happened, Nezha turned over, hugged the ice-cold clam shell to his chest, and continued sleeping in his drunkenness.
Shuanglian opened its shell to look at him for a moment, then closed it, snuggling close and falling into a deep sleep.
After that day, the matter of the Pantao Peaches left an impression in Nezha's mind.
During a meeting in Lingxiao Hall, when they heard that Sun Wukong was temporarily managing the Pantao Palace, Li Jing spoke first: "That monkey's demonic nature is hard to tame. We must be wary of him causing trouble."
The Jade Emperor was unconcerned: "Just a monkey. We've even given him a title. What waves could he stir?"
After the meeting ended, Nezha went to the Pantao Orchard the next day—not by order, just to take a look.
The local earth deity guarding the orchard saw him and said, "Great Deity, make yourself at ease. This humble deity saw nothing."
When he went in, Sun Wukong was lounging on a tree with his legs crossed, picking only the nine-thousand-year-old peaches. Sun Wukong said to Nezha, "Little prince, stealing peaches too instead of waiting for the Peach Banquet?"
"The ones at the banquet aren't as fresh as the ones in the orchard." Nezha looked around. "Such a big yard—how many are ripe?"
Sun Wukong said, "The rest have all been eaten by old Sun."
Nezha picked a good tree and reached up to pluck two large peaches. He sat down with his back against the peach tree and took out the clam from his robes. Shuanglian opened its shell and used its tentacles to eat the peach flesh he had broken off.
The nine-thousand-year-old Pantao Peach was different—crisp, sweet, and delicious. Shuanglian squinted its eyes in delight, eating heartily. It had a big appetite, and after eating half, it pushed the other half with its tentacles.
Nezha broke off more flesh and fed it. Seeing how happily it ate, he took a bite himself, but his lotus body couldn't taste anything. Nezha handed the other half to Shuanglian, who hugged the peach flesh and was just about to stuff it into its mouth when it suddenly said, "Third Prince, you eat it."
Nezha said, "The lotus emerges from mud unstained—have you not heard that saying? It's cleaner than you."
His finger poked the clam's flesh, and the Clam Spirit continued hugging the peach flesh and eating. The Pantao Peach contained abundant spiritual energy, and eating it made its belly feel hot. It needed time to digest, but it couldn't bear to stop eating.
Shuanglian ate happily, its shell faintly glowing, its flesh spread out in the shell, rising and falling with each breath.
Suddenly, a commotion sounded from behind: "That monkey! Catch him!"
"Over there, he went over there!"
Sun Wukong's voice flashed by: "Little prince, old Sun is off first!"
A golden light darted left and right through the Pantao Orchard, chased by a group of heavenly soldiers and generals. Wherever it passed, peach trees shook wildly, and the few remaining peaches fell with a rustle.
Nezha stuffed the clam into his robes. After the heavenly soldiers and generals had gone, he picked up peaches from behind. He discarded the ones the monkey had bitten, the ones that were smashed, and the small ones.
Nezha picked through the mess and selected the presentable ones. When he returned to Yunlou Palace, Li Jing was just walking out the door holding his pagoda. Sun Wukong's crimes—stealing Pantao Peaches, pilfering immortal wine, and more—had enraged the Jade Emperor, and as King Li, the Pagoda-Bearing Heavenly King, Li Jing naturally had to take charge.
As a result, Li Jing walked out the door and ran straight into his son carrying several large peaches in his arms. He immediately barked, "Nezha, stop right there!"
Nezha halted in his steps. Li Jing knew his third son's temperament was willful and his behavior outrageous. He had been ordered to catch the peach-stealing monkey, yet he ran into his own son instead. He couldn't beat him, and if he reported this to the Jade Emperor, where would he put his face?
Looking at Nezha's face, Li Jing had ten thousand words but couldn't say a single one. He closed his eyes wearily, long familiar with his third son's conduct. Compared to those other matters, stealing peaches?
Li Jing said to Nezha, "The celestial maidens said that demon monkey stole the Pantao Peaches. Did you see anything?"
"Your son saw nothing." Nezha turned and went back into Yunlou Palace. The clam in his robes was burning hot, its small black eyes filled with mist. Nezha knew it had eaten too much—the Pantao Peach contained too much spiritual energy and needed time to digest.
Nezha stepped into the bath pool, and the clam entered the water, its shell floating. "Hot."
"Did I starve you? Why did you eat so much?"
The clam swam in the water, the light of its shell gradually dimming, even its usual pinkish-white turning a dull gray.
Nezha frowned and poked the clam: "Hey, are you dying?"
Shuanglian felt all the spiritual energy in its body gathering into its pearl, which slowly became round and smooth. It stammered, "No way—" but the next second, Nezha's fingers slipped into its shell, feeling around left and right.
His movements suddenly stopped. His fingertip probed deeper and touched a small round thing embedded in the clam's flesh. As his finger moved, it slid along with it, and the clam let out a thin cry.
Nezha hooked the thing with his fingertip and pulled it out—a pearl rolled out of the shell.
A clam spirit was different from ordinary clams. For a demon, producing a pearl was easy, and taking it out was easy too.
He held the pearl up before his eyes. It was very small, no bigger than his fingertip, also pinkish-white, its surface beaded with water. It was as pretty as the clam itself—like the tenderest stamen of a peach blossom in spring.
The clam shell's color returned, clamped tightly shut, its tentacles and flesh all retracted, as if saying "I'm dead, don't touch me."
Nezha twirled the pearl between his fingers: "So? You can produce pearls?"
The Clam Spirit said nothing. Nezha closed his fist around the pearl, reaching his other hand into the shell: "Fine, let me see if there's more."
"There's none, really none…" The Clam Spirit finally spoke, trying hard to close its shell, flesh shrinking inward, desperately dodging his fingers. The shell only had so much space—nowhere to hide. Nezha's fingers straightened and touched the bottom: "Not a single one. How stingy."
"…There's none." The Clam Spirit closed its shell and answered in a small voice.
Nezha: "When did you have it?"
Shuanglian: "…I don't know. I felt it before."
Nezha held the pearl up to the light and looked at it for a long moment, then tossed the Clam Spirit onto the couch. "No feeding today."
It moved to the innermost corner, silent. Nezha held the pearl, paying it no mind. He washed the slime and peach juice from his hands, changed into fresh clothes, and returned to the couch. The Clam Spirit was at the inner side, its shell's back facing him.
"Really angry?"
Nezha picked it up and brought it back. "Just one pearl. It's not like I'm taking it for good."
The shell didn't open, didn't speak. Nezha wasn't in a hurry. One hand played with the pearl, the other poked at the shell—poking the back, then the tightly sealed crack.
The clam trembled with each poke. After a dozen or so pokes, Shuanglian couldn't take it anymore. The shell opened a small crack: "Give it to me."
Nezha pretended not to understand, poking at the flesh inside: "What?"
The small black eyes drooped, the flesh wriggling inside the shell. "That pearl of mine."
Nezha held out the pearl. The Clam Spirit's tentacles hurriedly reached out to take it. He twisted his wrist, pulling the pearl back: "Say something sweeter."
The small black eyes looked pitiful, tentacles wrapping around his fingertips: "Third Prince, please give it to me, okay?"
Nezha saw that its eyes looked like they were about to cry. He loosened the pearl pinched between his fingers. The Clam Spirit's tentacles wrapped around the pearl, quickly stuffed it into the shell, and snapped shut.
Nezha climbed onto the bed. Beside him, there was a rustling sound from inside the shell—probably hiding the pearl.
Once it was hidden, Nezha pried the shell open, found the pearl's exact location, and pressed down.
The Clam Spirit cried out: "Third Prince, your hand…"
"What about my hand?" He paid it no mind, teasing it for a good while before finally pulling his hand back.
There were several Pantao Peaches brought back, and Nezha fed Shuanglian for two days straight afterward.
Its tentacles curled around the peach flesh, eating happily. Nezha propped his chin on his hand, waiting until it finished before asking: "Where's the pearl?"
The tentacles froze.
Nezha: "Bring it out."
The tentacles retracted into the shell, rustling for a moment. It held out the pink pearl, slowly offering it forward. The pearl gave off a warm, gentle glow, its surface damp all over.
Nezha took it and played with it for a while: "It's grown a bit."
Still no bigger than his fingertip. Nezha looked at it for a long moment, then brought it close to his nose and sniffed lightly. The small black eyes watched nervously, afraid he might swallow it.
Seeing how flustered it was, Nezha deliberately brought the pearl to his thin lips and brushed it gently with his lips.
Shuanglian shuddered violently, and the shell snapped shut with a swish.