Chapter 47:

“Fuck your mother! I asked you politely if it was okay, and you fucking played me several times in a row. Do you think I won’t hit you, or that Cen Wuwang will avenge you? Let me tell you, don’t think you can pull rank just because you’re old. Are you in such a hurry to climb into your coffin? Today, I’ll move your grave to the mass burial ground myself!”

After cursing, Xue Ying turned and stormed out. Standing at the door were Bai Zhu and Su Yu, who had come to deliver medicine. They hadn’t heard the earlier exchange, but the latter part was crystal clear. Bai Zhu managed to keep her expression somewhat controlled, while Su Yu looked utterly dazed. He tugged at Bai Zhu’s sleeve and murmured, “Senior Sister, slap me quick.”

In all his years, this was the first time he’d seen the Valley Master being cursed out. He couldn’t believe it.

Bai Zhu immediately obliged, slapping him without holding back.

Su Yu yelped in pain, but his eyes only grew brighter. To dare curse the Valley Master—this was the woman he admired, indeed.

In contrast, Bai Zhu could piece together the context. She knew Cang Wu’s temperament all too well, and Xue Ying was the type to speak her mind. To push someone to this point—truly worthy of the title of Valley Master of Tai Su Valley.

“Fellow Daoist.”

Xue Ying walked with her head held high, unbothered by the two. She ignored Bai Zhu’s greeting and strode off without a glance. Left behind, Bai Zhu and Su Yu exchanged looks before Su Yu turned and chased after Xue Ying.

With the younger generation gone, only two remained in the room—the herb and the tree. Bai Zhu handed the medicine to Cang Wu without a trace of deference. “You’ve really regressed with age.”

Cang Wu shook the liquid in the jade bottle, his face twisting in disgust. The taste was awful, the effect mediocre—nowhere near the quality of Gan Shui. But he’d never meet another Taoist willing to save him again.

Cang Wu wasn’t particularly bothered by Xue Ying’s cursing, merely commenting, “The same inherited simplicity.”

Bai Zhu didn’t know much about Tai Chu Sect’s affairs. Like outsiders, she only knew that Tai Chu Sect’s founder had once saved Cang Wu’s life. Since then, his entire existence had been tied to the sect.

“You’ve aided Tai Chu Sect for so long. Any debt of gratitude was repaid long ago. Why keep interfering?”

Bai Zhu spoke from the heart, hoping Cang Wu would sever ties with Tai Chu Sect. After all, the rules of the Taoist and demon realms differed, and many disciples in the valley couldn’t understand Cang Wu’s actions.

Cang Wu replied nonchalantly, “Who do you think sent the Golden Crow?”

Among the demon realm’s bloodlines, the highest nobility belonged to the dragon and phoenix clans. No matter how reckless these two clans were, they couldn’t produce a Golden Crow. This one-of-a-kind Golden Crow was clearly a gift from a certain founder.

Outsiders saw Cang Wu fawning over Tai Chu Sect, thinking him foolish. In reality, he was just clinging to a powerful ally. Why call him founder? “Dad” would be more direct.

Mentioning the Golden Crow, Cang Wu asked, “Did you feed Qiu Qiu today?”

Bai Zhu’s expression remained calm. “I was just about to tell you—the bird flew away.”

Cang Wu, “…”

He had a bad feeling about this.

Meanwhile, Su Yu chased Xue Ying all the way to the inner valley crossroads, coaxing her with every trick in the book. Though he held no fondness for Cang Wu, the Valley Master was still the one footing his living expenses, so he put in a few good words.

“The Valley Master isn’t like that.”

Xue Ying, “He’s not even human to begin with, not even a beast.”

Su Yu, “…He treats people well, granting almost every request.”

Xue Ying, “I asked for an egg, and he gave me nothing. What ‘granting every request’?”

Su Yu didn’t quite understand the latter part. Watching his crush walk away without looking back, he panicked. “Can’t you stay for me?”

Xue Ying didn’t get it. She stopped and scrutinized Su Yu—fair-skinned, delicate, living in Tai Su Valley, wielding the Twenty-Four Divine Swords. He seemed promising, a young hero destined for greatness.

“You like me?”

Su Yu’s face flushed crimson at being called out, but he stubbornly refused to admit it. “Don’t overthink it. Just a little.”

Xue Ying couldn’t care less about that “little.” “You’re not within my consideration for a Dao companion.”

Su Yu’s heart raced at the mention of “Dao companion,” but his joy was quickly doused. “I admit my swordsmanship isn’t as good as yours, but I’m a rising star.”

Xue Ying remained unmoved. This wasn’t an investment; she cared about the present, not thirty years later. “The last ‘rising star’ was already kicked out of Tai Xuan Sect.”

Su Yu, “I’m loyal.”

Xue Ying, “I’m promiscuous.”

Su Yu didn’t believe her. “If you’re promiscuous, why not send me a few ‘good mornings’ or ‘good nights’? String me along, play with my heart. I’m so good-looking—you could even lust after my body.”

They stood at the crossroads, with many Tai Su disciples passing by. Though Su Yu’s voice wasn’t loud, no disciple had poor hearing. His heartfelt confession painted every Tai Su disciple’s eyes with the essence of Taoist truth:

Gossip.

Xue Ying thought Su Yu shouldn’t be called a rabbit spirit—more like a simp. “Can you wear a green hat? Is your swordsmanship better than mine?”

Su Yu was stunned. “What nonsense are you spouting?”

Years later, when Su Yu became the Demon Realm’s top swordmaster, he still remembered these words: “Your swordsmanship is worse than mine, so you’re useless to me. You can’t wear a green hat, so you’re no help to my state of mind. So why would I form a Dao companionship with you?”

Too weak, too lacking—why would I partner with you? As for looks, my beauty is peerless. How dare you bring up appearances in front of me?

Setting aside future events, Xue Ying didn’t care about Su Yu’s feelings after her speech. She planned to return to her sect and resume her role as head disciple. From afar, Bai Zhu hurried over. “Fellow Daoist, wait!”

Xue Ying didn’t slow her steps—if anything, she walked faster.

Bai Zhu sighed. Cang Wu had truly pissed her off. “Fellow Daoist, hear me out—the Valley Master agreed.”

Only then did Xue Ying grant her the courtesy of stopping. She headed back to Cang Wu’s residence, while Su Yu, heartbroken, tugged at Bai Zhu’s sleeve and mumbled, “Senior Sister, she doesn’t even lust after my body.”

Bai Zhu patted Su Yu’s forehead and pinched his cheek. “If you’re looking for a quick sale, I suggest you try Qiu Qiu.”

After all, she was genuinely interested.

Returning to the cabin, Xue Ying entered without a word. Cang Wu, now far more polite, remained the picture of a frail beauty, coughing three times with every sentence.

“My earlier offense was inexcusable. I beg your forgiveness, Daoist.”

Xue Ying’s expression was icy—clearly, she was waiting to see how he’d spin this.

And spin he did. Puffing on his pipe, Cang Wu launched into a tale of creation. “Daoist, you may not know this, but the four realms have suffered from inherent flaws since their inception. The pure and turbid energies were meant to return to their sources, but a mishap caused the Demon Realm to suffer under turbid energy for years. Fortunately, heaven sent the divine Golden Crow to save us. We intended to escort the Golden Crow into the Demon Realm, but fate had other plans.”

He couldn’t control the bird anymore. The Demon Realm had rebelled. The barrier between the realms was cracking.

It sounded like a mix of personal, national, and global crises, but asking her to single-handedly save the four realms? Xue Ying figured she might as well lie down and dream. “Valley Master, spare me the speech. If there’s something I can help with, I’ll do it. For the rest, if there’s a role for me, I’ll cheer you on.”

She wasn’t Nüwa—she couldn’t mend the heavens. The turbid energy of the Demon Realm was beyond her.

Cang Wu smiled weakly. “It’s nothing major. It’s just that my health worsens by the day, and the Golden Crow is still young, ignorant of the ways of the world. I’ve noticed she’s fond of you, so I’d like to entrust her to you. If you agree, I’ll handle the earlier matter.”

Xue Ying, “I don’t believe you.”

Who was he fooling? Just moments ago, he’d called her brainless. Now he was suddenly agreeable?

Cang Wu clutched his chest. “What must I do for you to trust me?”

Xue Ying said, “Unless you scald your balls with boiling water.”

If Cang Wu dared do that, it’d prove he had the skill—meaning there was hope for Cen Wuwang’s balls too.

The room fell silent for a long moment. Cang Wu leaned weakly against his pillow, a faint smile on his pale face. “Why not? Boiling water is nothing—I’d even use sulfuric acid.”

Thus, Xue Ying witnessed a literal sulfuric acid rain, confined neatly to the depths of Tai Su Valley, drenching the flowering ageless tree.

Watching the flower buds sizzle under the acid and then at Cang Wu—frail yet resolute—Xue Ying swallowed a curse.

Best not to dwell on it. After all, she was a sword cultivator, not a shameless one.

With their agreement settled after Cang Wu’s sulfuric acid stunt, Xue Ying resigned herself to being Qiu Qiu’s temporary caretaker and set off to find the bird.

Before leaving, Cang Wu gave her a bird-rearing manual for reference, mentioning Qiu Qiu’s hearty appetite and offering financial support if needed. Xue Ying nodded dismissively, thinking, How much could a little girl like Qiu Qiu eat?

The trouble was, even after combing Tai Su Valley with Bai Zhu, they couldn’t find Qiu Qiu. Finally, Bai Zhu visited the phoenix nesting grounds and, under pressure, learned Qiu Qiu had left with a bald chicken.

The bald chicken was Feng Yuemian’s subordinate. Feng Yuemian was currently in the East Sea, where the Five-Colored Divine Feathers were held by the dragon clan. In short: Qiu Qiu had been lured to the East Sea.

Xue Ying, piecing it together, grew concerned. “I’ve heard phoenixes are weakened in water. If Qiu Qiu falls into the dragon clan’s hands, won’t she suffer?”

Cang Wu calmly packed tobacco into his pipe. “Have you heard of Tang Valley?”

Outside, a light rain fell. Inside, warmth lingered as Cang Wu took a drag. “Tang Valley has the Fusang Tree, where the ten suns bathe. In the waters stands a great tree—nine suns rest below, one above.”

“Senior’s meaning is…?”

Cang Wu’s expression was serene. “Tang Valley is barren, its waters perpetually boiling. I’m not sure of its size, but if a small sun were to fall in, the seafood would cook rather quickly.”

Worrying about Qiu Qiu? Better worry about the dragons turning into seafood soup.

**

When Yan Zhi threw someone into prison, she merely thought the impersonation unforgivable and figured a decade or so behind bars would suffice—no need to delay the pageant. But when Ao Fugui came to visit the imprisoned noblewoman, he coincidentally ran into the newly incarcerated Feng Yuemian.

In that instant, all thoughts of romance vanished. Ao Fugui perked up, pointing at Feng Yuemian behind bars and laughing. “Who do we have here? If it isn’t the ground-scratching chicken. What brings you to the sea? Lost your way?”

Feng Yuemian swallowed his pride, looking down with noble pity. “I know you’re still bitter about losing to me. Since fate has brought us together again, why not settle it properly?”

He even urged Ao Fugui, “Come on, let’s have a fair rematch.”

Ao Fugui studied Feng Yuemian, then turned to Yan Zhi. “Is he mentally deficient?”

Even he, a certified idiot, knew to kick a man when he was down. Why release an already imprisoned enemy?

Yan Zhi, still reeling from the shock of having competed with the Phoenix King for a woman, reflexively replied, “He’s here for the Crown Princess selection.”

Back then, she’d thought, “We’re all thousand-year-old foxes—why play the innocent? First a brother, now a sister? Even split personalities aren’t this divided.” That Cen Wuwang seemed morally dubious, obsessed with cuckoldry. This one had outright changed genders.

Turned out, the surprise was even bigger—not only was he male, he was a bird.

The term “Crown Princess” nearly made Ao Fugui gag. He immediately ordered his men to prepare a reinforced cell for Feng Yuemian.

With Plan A foiled, Feng Yuemian moved to Plan B, taunting Ao Fugui in his pretty little dress. “Four-legged worm! Thief of my phoenix clan’s treasure! Utterly shameless! Release me at once and return the Five-Colored Divine Feathers, or don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Ao Fugui, when not lovestruck, was sharp. “The phoenix clan’s treasure? Wasn’t it the Golden Crow’s apology to Yunmeng Marsh? Since when did it become yours? Threatening me now—either you’re bluffing, or you’ve got backup. I heard some of your men fled. Planning to call for reinforcements?”

With that, Ao Fugui laid bare Feng Yuemian’s escape route—and he wasn’t done. “I saw the Golden Crow wreak havoc at Yunmeng Marsh back then. By demon standards, she’s still a child, isn’t she?”

Feng Yuemian’s blood ran cold. “What are you plotting?”

Ao Fugui grinned. “Nothing much. If the Golden Crow doesn’t belong to the phoenixes, the East Sea wouldn’t mind hosting her.”

He bore no grudge against the Golden Crow—no need to fight a powerhouse to the death. The dragon clan’s motto: If you can’t beat them, join them. (Phoenixes excluded.)

Feng Yuemian was now drowning in regret. Of all contingencies, he hadn’t accounted for the dragons turning simp. “You’re shameless!”

“Shameless? You’re the one shamelessly running for Crown Princess!”

“If you hadn’t stolen the Five-Colored Divine Feathers, why would I be here?”

“Four-legged worm!”

“Ground-scratching chicken!”

After their spirited exchange, Ao Fugui left the cell and consulted Yan Zhi. “Teacher, what are our chances of securing the Golden Crow?”

Yan Zhi knew a fair bit about Yunmeng Marsh. Qiu Qiu’s temper aside, a divine bird capable of nearly destroying Yunmeng Marsh would be a boon for the dragon clan. Still, she cautioned Ao Fugui, “Your Highness, does this mean temporarily sparing the phoenixes?”

After all, they were both feathered beings, and Qiu Qiu had lived with the phoenixes for years. There had to be some affection. Befriending the Golden Crow only to wipe out the phoenixes later—wouldn’t that risk Qiu Qiu avenging them?

Ao Fugui’s goal was clear. “First, we retake the Demon Realm.”

Without legitimacy, words held no weight. With Qiu Qiu on their side, the phoenixes wouldn’t dare act rashly. As for the future, Ao Fugui told Yan Zhi, “We can’t kill them outright, but Teacher, we can always scheme in the shadows.”

Yan Zhi was pleased. The child had grown, learning to plot. “A teachable pupil.”

Ao Fugui, well-versed in stepmother literature, nodded obediently. The books said that to win the woman he loved, he needed achievements. Once he reclaimed the Demon Realm, crushed the phoenixes, and consolidated power, he’d be the ruthless new king—free to marry his soft, young stepmother, answerable to none.

Compared to Feng Yuemian, who was filled with regret in prison, Qiuqiu, who set off with the bald chicken, was brimming with excitement, dreaming of seafood soup larger than her face. The group of birds arrived at the East Sea, where, according to legend, fate would bring Wen An and Qiuqiu together. The little girl remembered that this was Xue Ying’s senior brother and greeted him warmly, “Hello, big brother!”

Wen An had come to find Cen Wuwang and the others. Originally, this matter was to be decided by rock-paper-scissors—whoever lost would go. After Du Yizhou won, he added, “Let’s have a match.”

In the end, Wen An lost to Du Yizhou in swordplay as well. After losing, Wen An refused to give up and said, “Your skills are better than mine. If anything unexpected happens, you can lend a hand to our martial uncles.”

Wen An spouted grand words about sect righteousness and the safety of the four realms, thinking he could sweet-talk Du Yizhou into it. But Du Yizhou remained unmoved. In the end, Wen An was practically dragged onto the airship, with Du Yizhou’s indifferent face below.

Having been tricked by Wen An, Du Yizhou was in a foul mood. The thought of Xue Ying’s swordsmanship only added to his displeasure, so his attitude toward Qiuqiu was lukewarm at best.

The little girl didn’t mind, her head full of visions of a seafood feast. She enthusiastically invited Wen An, asking, “Big brother, do you want to join us?”

Wen An refused without hesitation. His mission was to help their martial uncles capture the Female Marquis—this golden crow was not his responsibility.

After sending off the golden crow, Wen An methodically sought out the Dragon Palace’s Minister of Foreign Affairs, stating that he was there to find someone—his own people. Wen An saw nothing wrong with this, and the other party smiled amiably. But after confirming Wen An’s identity, they swiftly locked him up in prison.

Wen An: ???

The Crown Prince had decreed that anyone or anything threatening his grand plan, be it human or beast, was to be thrown into prison.

As Wen An puzzled over what the Dragon Palace was up to, another prisoner was brought in next to him—Xue Ying, who had come looking for Qiuqiu.

Senior brother and junior sister stared at each other in silence before Xue Ying spoke first, “Senior brother, why are you at the East Sea?”

Wen An replied, “I came to find you. I thought the Female Marquis case might be giving you extra trouble.”

Xue Ying forced a dry laugh but didn’t get a chance to respond before a voice from another cell chimed in, “The Female Marquis isn’t here anymore.”

Wen An found the voice somewhat familiar but couldn’t place it immediately. The content of the message was more important, so he set aside his confusion and asked, “Then where is the Female Marquis?”

“She’s been moved elsewhere. Her current whereabouts are unknown, but she hasn’t left the Dragon Palace yet.”

Wen An pondered this. What were the dragonfolk up to? They had agreed: the Five-Colored Divine Feathers for them, the Female Marquis for him. Though his mind buzzed with thoughts, his expression remained neutral. “Thank you for the information. By the way, may I ask your name?”

“Cen Wuwang.”

Wen An: “…Greetings, Martial Uncle.”

Still baffled as to why Cen Wuwang had been imprisoned, Wen An heard him say, “Is Xue Ying next to you? Relay a message for me.”

Confused, Wen An walked to the other side and knocked on the wall, calling through the bars, “Junior sister, Martial Uncle has a question for you.”

Xue Ying was equally puzzled. Wait, she hadn’t snitched on Yan Zhi before leaving—why was Cen Wuwang locked up too? Perhaps out of guilt, Xue Ying didn’t refuse Wen An and answered obediently.

Where is Bailu? What were you doing?

The first question was fine, but when Wen An relayed the second, Xue Ying hesitated before answering tactfully, “Well, my master’s health hasn’t been great, so I went to the Taigu Valley to seek medical help.”

Wen An was also perplexed. “Why seek medical help? Not to mention Taigu Valley offers Martial Uncle full exemptions.” He paused, lowering his voice. “Haven’t you always coveted the title of Sword Immortal?”

If Cen Wuwang fell ill, that would be good news for Xue Ying. Who knew how many times Xue Ying had cursed Cen Wuwang growing up, hoping he’d drop dead so she could claim the title.

With a wall between them, Wen An couldn’t see Xue Ying’s face, only hear her suspicious silence before she finally said, “Respecting one’s master is every disciple’s duty.”

Wen An: “…”

Junior sister, you’ve changed.

He dutifully relayed this to Cen Wuwang, who remained silent for a long time before finally saying, “Cangwu can’t help me.”

Wen An was stunned. One disciple, who had spent years dreaming of patricide, had suddenly changed her tune. One elder, who had always been indomitable in their eyes, now claimed even the greatest healer couldn’t save him.

What on earth had happened? Was Martial Uncle truly on his deathbed?

Overcome with sorrow, Wen An spoke earnestly to Cen Wuwang, “Martial Uncle, if there’s anything else you wish to say, this disciple will convey it.”

Cen Wuwang didn’t understand why Wen An was crying but assumed it was due to his gentle and sensitive nature. He didn’t press further, only suspecting that Cangwu was up to something—otherwise, Xue Ying wouldn’t have returned after taking Bailu. “Ask her if she made some deal with Cangwu.”

Wen An, still teary-eyed, walked a few steps to the other wall and wiped his tears, pleading, “Junior sister, if you’re in trouble, tell me. Senior brother will help you bear it.”

Xue Ying didn’t understand Wen An’s tears either, but out of camaraderie, she replied, “It’s fine, not a big deal. Oh, and senior brother, don’t mention this to Master.”

After all, the egg situation affected a man’s dignity—Xue Ying understood the importance of discretion.

Wen An immediately turned back to Cen Wuwang. “Martial Uncle, junior sister seems to be under Cangwu’s coercion. She even forbade me from telling you.”

Cen Wuwang’s voice betrayed no emotion, only a few words: “She doesn’t need to meddle in my affairs.”

When this reached Xue Ying, she was quick to grovel, “I must meddle! I must! I’m his disciple—it’s only right that I serve him diligently. Senior brother, tell Master not to worry.”

After all, if Cangwu dared to scald a few… well, though this wasn’t the same thing, Xue Ying firmly believed Cen Wuwang’s egg would return.

And once it did, maybe he’d stop snatching her Bailu. They could maintain a superficial master-disciple relationship—everyone happy.

Wen An was beyond tears. He urged Cen Wuwang to share any last words, saying, “Junior sister’s filial devotion is sincere. Why keep rejecting her?”

Cen Wuwang’s focus was on Xue Ying having boarded Cangwu’s pirate ship. He ignored Wen An’s sentiment and simply told Xue Ying to sever ties with Cangwu sooner rather than later, or endless trouble would follow. “If she insists on meddling, don’t blame me for being ruthless.”

On the other side, Xue Ying said, “He’s my master. No matter how much trouble arises, I’m willing to help resolve it. Senior brother, please persuade Master to take back his words.”

Wen An’s emotions were in turmoil. He thought of the hardships the Tai Xuan Sect would face after the Sword Immortal’s passing, the suffering his junior sister would endure, the burdens he himself would shoulder…

Wait a minute—what exactly happened between you two? Master and disciple suddenly growing closer by leaps and bounds, with a coercive Cangwu thrown into the mix?

He paced in circles, and for some reason, his unfinished novel, *The Pure-Hearted Disciple and Her Dashing Master*, came to mind.

Surely… that couldn’t be it… right?