Chapter 46:

In Xue Ying’s understanding, Cen Wuwang’s gender transition was from male to female, not some ambiguous, half-hearted adherence to a middle path.

The four realms didn’t have a place for eunuchs. Even Yan Zhi, who disguised herself as a man, never considered adding anything superfluous down there.

She rubbed the snow weasel’s little head with her finger. Perhaps due to the effects of the medicine, the weasel responded affectionately, sending shivers down Xue Ying’s spine.

If it were just a beast, she could’ve acted without hesitation, even greeting it with a casual, “Long time no see, kid.” But now, stuffed inside was Cen Wuwang. Xue Ying could already imagine Bailu, once lost and now found, slipping away from her again.

This couldn’t just be left like this.

Xue Ying unilaterally bargained with the snow weasel. “Master and disciple for so long, let’s keep family matters private. I’ll find you a skilled and reputable medical cultivator to reattach that thing. Afterward, we’ll continue our superficial master-disciple relationship, alright?”

Beasts couldn’t speak human words. Pressing down on the weasel’s head, Xue Ying took it as Cen Wuwang’s agreement. She prepared to seek out a renowned healer, but before leaving, she gathered the little skirts and bras in the room. To avoid giving Cen Wuwang the wrong idea, she made a special trip to Feng Yuemian’s nest.

The Phoenix King was rehearsing for tomorrow’s performance, practicing late into the night. His water sleeves fluttered gracefully as he sang, his gaze lifting in a mesmerizing moment.

A few subordinates sitting on the threshold applauded. Unable to enter through the door, Xue Ying climbed in through the window and nodded briskly. “Get me a set of men’s clothes.”

Despite her familiarity, she had no idea where the wardrobe was. Feng Yuemian dismissed his subordinates and pointed the way, raising an eyebrow as he followed her. “Done?”

Xue Ying was nearly blinded by the dazzling array of bright red in Feng Yuemian’s wardrobe. To those in the know, it was just the Phoenix clan’s nature. To the uninformed, it looked like Feng Yuemian was preparing for a scam marriage, with wedding dresses in every conceivable style.

Rummaging through the clothes, she answered without turning around, “Done. I’m leaving soon.”

Hearing that Cen Wuwang might not be able to get up tomorrow, Feng Yuemian was so thrilled he nearly pranced around. The thought of infiltrating the Dragon clan, obtaining the Five-Colored Divine Feather, and turning the tables on them filled him with glee. In an unusually generous mood, he not only let Xue Ying take his clothes but also gave her some travel expenses, saying, “The world is dangerous. Stay safe.”

Xue Ying pinched the spirit stones in the small pouch and asked tentatively, “Breakup fee?”

Feng Yuemian brushed her off, his mind already on tomorrow’s grand victory. “Call it whatever you want.”

Xue Ying, “Oh, then you’re being a bit stingy.”

As the disciple of a Sword Immortal and the pillar of the Tai Xuan Sect, and Feng Yuemian, the Phoenix King—their relationship, whether seen as a cross-species romance or a high-profile fling, deserved a breakup fee that matched its scale. “Our affair, at its grandest, was a love transcending races. At its smallest, it was a fling between high-profile youths. Or maybe just a superficial relationship. Superficial means it’s over with a word, but grand…”

Xue Ying asked Feng Yuemian, “Does love come in tiers? Are you saying our feelings were bottom-tier?”

Feng Yuemian, “…”

In the end, Feng Yuemian coughed up half his savings for Xue Ying. But it didn’t end there. As she climbed out the window, Xue Ying added, “Forgot to mention, when I broke up with the Prime Minister, the Dragon King gave me ten million.”

Dragons and Phoenixes—even their breakup fees showed which clan had no future.

Feng Yuemian, “Get lost!”

After cursing Xue Ying, the money-grubbing wretch, Feng Yuemian sat down to console himself. Money lost was disaster averted. As long as he won tomorrow’s competition, ten million—no, a hundred million—would be nothing.

With the Five-Colored Divine Feather in hand, the Dragon clan would be nothing but sons kneeling before him, begging for mercy.

The thought of Ao Fugui crying and calling him “Daddy” made Feng Yuemian laugh in his sleep. Even after waking, his lips curled into a smile. Dressed in his favorite pink dress and wearing show-stopping smoky makeup, he practically skipped with joy. His mood was so good that when he ran into Yan Zhi, whom he hadn’t seen in days, he even greeted her warmly.

“Good morning, Prime Minister.”

Feng Yuemian’s outfit today was truly striking. His figure was exquisite, the dress cinching his waist like a water snake. Beautiful and sweet-voiced, many sea clans couldn’t help but drool over him. Even Yan Zhi turned to look.

“Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?”

Feng Yuemian didn’t take Yan Zhi’s words seriously. He’d met her both as a woman and as a man—even competed with her for women.

Now she was acting like they’d just met? Feng Yuemian’s first thought was, *Cut the crap.*

Half-demons had no manners, daring to drool over the future Crown Princess.

“Were you at the market a few days ago?”

Yan Zhi’s gaze lingered on Feng Yuemian’s chest. She remembered now—this was the one Ao Fugui had publicly criticized for pretending to be well-endowed despite being flat-chested.

Feng Yuemian’s smile froze. *There’s no way she recognized me.* He deflected, “Prime Minister must’ve met my elder brother. We’re twins—everyone says we look alike.”

Yan Zhi narrowed her eyes. She’d read enough scripts to know better. Twins? She’d disguised herself as a man too, and when she wore dresses in private, she never claimed to be her own cousin.

After a brief exchange, they parted ways due to their differing statuses. Feng Yuemian was relieved he hadn’t been exposed, but Yan Zhi immediately pulled up his records.

A woman might be flat-chested, but a man definitely wouldn’t have breasts.

Once she’d dug through Feng Yuemian’s background, Yan Zhi was furious. A country bumpkin with no credentials, no chest, and the audacity to cross-dress and deceive? Unforgivable. This brat actually thought he could become the Dragon Crown Princess? Dream on.

Meanwhile, Feng Yuemian arrived backstage and, as expected, didn’t see Cen Wuwang. He was thrilled—until Yan Zhi came looking for him. Remembering the morning’s incident, Feng Yuemian left instructions with his subordinates: if he didn’t return for a long time, they were to report back to the demon realm.

A bald chicken wept dramatically, “I swear to live and die with my King!”

Feng Yuemian kicked him. “Don’t drag me down.”

Wake up—this was the Dragon clan’s stronghold. Phoenixes were weakened in water. Charging out alone was suicide. This wasn’t some cheap novel.

As the Phoenix King, the Dragon clan wouldn’t dare touch him, but his underlings were fair game. If they decided to “kill the chicken to scare the monkey,” Feng Yuemian would be the one truly heartbroken.

Another subordinate asked, “My King, should we seek out the Valley Master?”

After all, the only one more powerful and cunning than Feng Yuemian was Cang Wu.

“No.” Feng Yuemian sneered. He knew Cang Wu’s temperament all too well—always playing mediator, smoothing things over with empty words. He might return unscathed, but the Phoenix clan’s dignity would be trampled. Since he’d already staked everything, he might as well go all out.

“Find Qiuqiu.” Feng Yuemian paused, his expression inscrutable. “Tell her I’m treating her to seafood.”

Xue Ying left the East Sea without returning to the Tai Xuan Sect. She found the East Wind Express and shipped all her ill-gotten gains back to the sect, along with a letter explaining that Cen Wuwang was unwell and, as his disciple, she needed to fulfill her filial duties. She wouldn’t be back for a while.

When Wen An received the letter, he was puzzled. “Isn’t Elder Cen’s medical treatment fully covered? Why does she need to go to Tai Su Valley?”

Beside him, Du Yizhou didn’t respond. Wen An called his name twice before he looked up. “Is something wrong at Tai Chu Sect?”

Du Yizhou massaged his temples, exasperated. “Junior Sister Lin wants to cultivate the Mortal Dust Technique.”

The Mortal Dust Technique involved entering the cycle of reincarnation as a mortal, experiencing the eight sufferings and seven hardships to temper one’s heart. Lin Jiujiu, being a true mortal, was suited for it. Du Yizhou understood Lin Shen was preparing for her next life. But…

“And?”

Du Yizhou said flatly, “Elder Lin asked me where to find a ‘wild man.’ Said rabbits don’t eat the grass by their burrows—he wouldn’t let her prey on our own disciples.”

A wild man? Lin Shen had the gall to say it outright—pay up front, and if anyone dared come back to continue the relationship, he’d break their legs.

As if legs were the issue. Tai Chu Sect was the foremost orthodox sect, not some rumored Pleasure Sect. If this got out, they’d never live it down.

Wen An offered a solution. “Between the Dao and mortal realms, there are mortal settlements. I hear Junior Brother Zi Ya’s hometown is there. Why not arrange for Junior Sister Lin to stay there? The capital is full of talent—she’s bound to find someone interesting. She’ll have fun, and if anything happens, fewer people will know.”

Du Yizhou took the advice, planning to let Lin Shen decide. He then asked about Xue Ying, frowning. “They’ve been delayed capturing the Female Marquis. Did something happen in the East Sea?”

“Maybe you should go check?”

“You go. I’m not going.”

What a joke—hadn’t the last beating taught him anything?

On the airship, Xue Ying lamented handing over too much of her ill-gotten gains, leaving her little savings. She fingered the VIP card Cang Wu had given her, hoping for a free ride this time.

When she arrived at Tai Su Valley and politely presented her identity, the disciple didn’t even look up. “VIP? Everyone who comes here for treatment has a card. Are you a Heartthrob Tier Three?”

As he spoke, the disciple’s tail wagged vigorously behind him. Swallowing the insult, Xue Ying said meekly, “I’m here to see Fellow Daoist Bai Zhu.”

The disciple tossed her a jade tablet. “Fill this out.”

Xue Ying glanced at it—left side for treatment, right for dates, middle for beauty and wellness, even including square dancing. Clearly, chief disciples everywhere had diverse side hustles, putting her junior siblings to shame.

After filling it out, she asked earnestly, “How long until I can see Fellow Daoist Bai Zhu?”

“Who knows? Maybe ten or eight years.”

Xue Ying immediately changed tack. “Sorry, I meant Tang Ke’ai.”

After much persuasion, Xue Ying finally entered the inner valley. Hearing Xue Ying was looking for her, Tang Ke’ai dashed over and threw herself into Xue Ying’s arms, beaming. “Sister Xue Ying, I missed you!”

Xue Ying crouched to examine Tang Ke’ai. The little deer spirit wore a layered dress of mermaid silk, a small apron tied around her chest—likely from studying herbs. Flowers adorned her antlers. Noticing Xue Ying’s gaze, Tang Ke’ai shyly clutched her skirt, but before she could speak, a towering flame erupted behind them.

A rabbit the size of a small mountain dashed past, pursued by a bouncing Qiuqiu.

The little girl chased after it, shouting, “Bunny, just one bite!”

The giant rabbit spirit yelled back, “I don’t believe you!”

Xue Ying recognized the voice—Su Yu from Yunmeng Marsh, whose beauty rivaled any woman’s. Normally, a cute bunny wouldn’t be strange to cuddle, but Su Yu’s true form…

Tang Ke’ai hid in Xue Ying’s arms, whispering, “Sister Xue Ying, let’s go quickly before the big bad sees us.”

Too late. Qiuqiu spotted Xue Ying on the path and cheered, her arms transforming into black wings as she fluttered over. Seeing Tang Ke’ai, she pouted and planted her hands on her hips. “Go away.”

Tang Ke’ai clung to Xue Ying’s waist. “No! I was here first.”

Qiuqiu didn’t care about first-come-first-served. A crow’s head materialized behind her, wreathed in flames—clearly signaling her superior strength.

Having witnessed Qiuqiu’s power before, Xue Ying knew that if those flames landed, both she and Tang Ke’ai would be toast. She quickly intervened. “Qiuqiu!”

Reluctantly, the little girl retracted her wings. Seeing Tang Ke’ai’s smug look, she sulked. “I didn’t fly into the sky.”

Daddy said as long as she didn’t go airborne, she could do anything.

Su Yu arrived, gnashing his teeth. “Don’t believe her. She’s been chasing me nonstop—my fur’s all singed.”

Qiuqiu hugged her stomach, pitiful. “I’m hungry.”

Su Yu snapped, “Did the Valley Master starve you? Go hunt outside the valley. Don’t break Tai Su’s rules.”

Tang Ke’ai seized the moment to stick out her tongue. “Big bad!”

Ganged up on, Qiuqiu’s eyes welled with tears. “Sister Xue Ying, do you think I’m bad too?”

Not wanting to interfere in Tai Su’s affairs, Xue Ying said gently, “You’re a Golden Crow—different from everyone else. Some things can’t be done on a whim.”

Feeling ostracized, Qiuqiu’s face crumpled, though she stubbornly held back tears. “My daddy said…”

Tang Ke’ai tugged Xue Ying’s sleeve, emboldened. “Big bad, I hate you most!”

The words struck a nerve. Qiuqiu burst into tears. Before Xue Ying could react, a wave of heat and golden light erupted. Through her fingers, Xue Ying saw a massive bird take flight, its cry echoing as it vanished into the clouds.

Clearly heartbroken, Xue Ying felt guilty. “Should we go after her?”

Su Yu huffed. “For what? You don’t know her temper. She’s swallowed several junior siblings whole. If not for the Valley Master trading treasures for their release, Tai Su would’ve been devoured.”

Grumbling about why such a menace was brought back, Su Yu stormed off. Xue Ying held her tongue—she’d ask Cang Wu about it later. Setting the matter aside, she inquired about their recent lives. Tang Ke’ai proudly listed the herbs she’d learned.

Xue Ying recalled something. “Aren’t you and Fellow Daoist Yingjun—the Buddhist monk—siblings?”

Tang Ke’ai’s flower-adorned antlers swayed as she smiled sweetly. “Yingjun and I are just from the same clan.”

Xue Ying nodded thoughtfully. Same clan and a Buddhist—helping her wasn’t strange. Su Yu, however, dragged Tang Ke’ai aside. “Adults are talking. Kids, go play.”

Turning to Xue Ying, his ears inexplicably reddened. Their parting at Yunmeng Marsh had been abrupt, leaving words unspoken. Now reunited, Su Yu’s heart raced. His gaze settled on Xue Ying’s sword case, and he lifted his chin haughtily. “Only you are worthy of my drawn sword.”

Missing his implication, Xue Ying said bluntly, “I’d advise against drawing it.”

Su Yu frowned. Swordplay was the dance of lovers—wasn’t that how all the stories went? “What do you mean?”

Xue Ying had no interest in humoring his delusions. “Exactly what I said. You’re too weak to interest me.”

Su Yu seethed but, recalling Xue Ying’s beauty, softened his tone. “If not swords, we could talk about something else.”

He’d been practicing the flute lately—even Bai Zhu praised his skill. Even if they did nothing, just looking at her face was enough. His was pretty too.

Xue Ying was baffled. “If not swords, what’s there to talk about?”

After sizing him up, she pulled Tang Ke’ai back to chat.

Su Yu, fuming, ignored her until they reached Cang Wu’s door. “Goodbye,” he muttered, turning away. Tang Ke’ai tried to stay, but Su Yu berated her. “Too young for romance. Homework done? Herbs sorted? Books memorized? If you’re free, I’ll assign you patients tomorrow.”

Xue Ying, “…”

She’d missed something important.

Inside, Cang Wu was as usual—lounging with a pipe, disheveled and half-dead on the couch, barely reacting to her arrival.

Xue Ying bowed respectfully. “Greetings, Senior. What troubles you?”

Cang Wu exhaled smoke languidly. “All life follows its own rhythm—what wanes will wax. Such is the Dao.”

Xue Ying blinked, waiting for elaboration.

Cang Wu yawned. “My youth has returned.”

After eight hundred years without blooming, a Golden Crow had nested in his tree this year. Its solar essence had caused flowers to sprout atop his head, becoming a valley spectacle. Bai Zhu, a plant spirit herself, had teased him endlessly, asking if he’d bear a little valley master.

Whether a little master was coming remained to be seen, but Cang Wu couldn’t even run away pregnant. Stuck in bed “gestating,” Bai Zhu had quipped about the struggles of elderly expectant mothers.

Unaware of Cang Wu’s woes, Xue Ying thought of Cen Wuwang and his condition. “Heat cycle?”

The term amused Cang Wu. Chuckling, he leaned closer. “If I said I was burning with desire, would the Jade Balance’s disciple offer herself?”

Xue Ying realized the Valley Master could flirt even while bedridden. Removing her veil, she met his gaze. “Senior is bold.”

Sunlight streamed through her eyes as a voice murmured, *[The room filled with a sweet fragrance. Cang Wu’s fingers traced Xue Ying’s hair, lingering at her tear-stained cheeks. A soft gasp escaped her lips.]*

Cang Wu burst into laughter, clutching his stomach. Xue Ying waited patiently until he calmed, then stated her purpose.

“Senior, do you have any…?”

Cang Wu, still catching his breath, “Any what?”

Xue Ying phrased it delicately. “The kind that crosses ethical boundaries…”

Equally delicate, Cang Wu pulled out a treasured book. “What flavor? Romantic courtesan or fallen noblewoman?”

The illustrations grew increasingly explicit. Realizing they’d become reading buddies, Xue Ying dropped the pretense. “Senior, can you perform surgery on my master?”

“I didn’t know his true form and acted rashly. Now, seeking redemption, I beg for your guidance.”

Cang Wu played dumb. “What? I’m old—my hearing’s gone.”

Xue Ying deadpanned, “I castrated my master. Can it be fixed?”

No more games. Cang Wu cut to the chase. “You want me to give Jade Balance new balls?”

Xue Ying nodded earnestly. “Can they be reattached?”

Cang Wu pointed at his head. “Shake it.”

Confused, Xue Ying obeyed. “Now can you answer?”

Cang Wu marveled. Truly Jade Balance’s disciple. “Didn’t you hear? The sound of water sloshing in my skull.”

Xue Ying, “…”