The Awakening of Insects arrives.
Spring thunder stirs, all things awaken, and dormant creatures burst forth from the earth. The Northern Liang Prince’s estate, once draped in silver, now basks in the splendor of spring. A thousand peach and pear trees bloom in vibrant hues, painting the landscape with life. At noon, Xu Fengnian arrives alone by the lakeside, rows a boat to the center, strips off his outer robe, takes a deep breath, and plunges into the emerald waters.
This lake is fed by living springs, far clearer than ordinary lakes. Xu Fengnian holds his breath and dives, but before reaching the bottom, he resurfaces, repeating the process three or four times until he’s confident enough to make a final descent. The lake is deep—ordinarily, the bottom should be pitch black, but this lake is extraordinary. Regularly dredged of silt, its heart is illuminated by a colossal luminous pearl, casting a daylight-like glow. Suspended at the bottom, Xu Fengnian beholds a sight worthy of the most fantastical folklore: a towering “water demon,” over ten feet tall, sits cross-legged in the silt. His white hair sways like aquatic plants, his eyes closed in meditation. His muscular frame is bound by three thick iron chains, each anchored to thousand-pound iron balls.
Is there a prison more bizarre and cruel than this?
The water demon opens his eyes, devoid of emotion, gazing at the only living soul he’s seen in over a decade.
Xu Fengnian gestures, signaling that cooked meat will be delivered later.
The monstrous figure inhales sharply, sucking a koi into his mouth, tearing into it with blood seeping from his lips. The plump fish vanishes down his throat in moments.
Xu Fengnian’s face flushes, then pales. He can’t hold his breath much longer. After a moment’s hesitation, he makes another series of gestures—ones only he and the lake demon understand.
The demon, more fiend than man, widens his eyes, sharp as blades, scrutinizing Xu Fengnian. Years of isolation have dulled his mind, but Xu Fengnian can’t wait. He shoots upward, lest he perish young and float lifeless on the lake’s surface.
Back on the boat, though the water wasn’t cold, the chill strikes hardest upon surfacing. Xu Fengnian dries himself, dresses, and warms by the onboard stove. He waits, but the lake remains still. Disappointed, he glances at the short dagger, *Spring Thunder*, gifted by Bai Hu’er, resting it across his knees. Stroking the sheath, he sighs, “Ah, Spring Thunder, it seems you’ll remain unused today. That old ghost prefers to cower below. Maybe I’ll stop feeding him meat.”
As a child, Xu Fengnian nearly drowned here, seized by cramps. Yet the demon, who survived on live fish, didn’t devour him—instead, he miraculously propelled the young master to safety. Since then, Xu Fengnian has repaid the debt by tossing cooked meat into the lake. On bad days, he dives down to glimpse the demon, reminding himself that life isn’t so bleak. Once fearing him as a cursed monster, Xu Fengnian now knows he’s human—one who needs to eat. But how does he breathe underwater? What unfathomable power sustains him?
Xu Fengnian scoured the *Tingchao Pavilion*’s martial archives, finding only Daoist texts mentioning “fetal breathing.” Yet even the revered Wudang masters couldn’t achieve such a feat. His mentor, Li Yishan, dismissed immortality as myth, declaring Daoist ascension mere deception.
Frustrated, Xu Fengnian returns ashore, carving a willow wreath and idly twirling *Spring Thunder*.
Outside the estate, a handsome youth presents a jade name card. The gatekeeper, discerning its value, recognizes the insignia of the Lin family from Hedong. Though not a top-tier clan, their ties to the Northern Liang Prince’s household earn the visitor respect. The young master and his delicate companion are ushered inside with governor-level hospitality.
Strolling along the lakeside path, the scholar spots an unwelcome sight: a man in luxurious furs, crowned with willow, carelessly swinging a dagger.
Only one person in the rigidly hierarchical Northern Liang estate could roam so freely—the infamous playboy prince himself. Xu Fengnian grins at the scholar he once dumped in a cesspit. “Ah, *Tanhua* Lang, here for more rouge? Didn’t get enough during the Lantern Festival?”
The scholar stammers, “You are…?”
Feigning arrogance, Xu Fengnian declares, “I’m the prince’s study companion!”
Relieved yet wary, the scholar tenses as Xu Fengnian turns his charm on the delicate Miss Fan. “What fortune! Let me show you the *Tingchao Pavilion*—where ten thousand koi leap toward the dragon gate.”
Ignoring the scholar’s protests, Xu Fengnian whisks her away, leaving the heartbroken *Tanhua* behind.
As they walk, Miss Fan asks softly, “Do you practice the blade?”
Xu Fengnian boasts, “Ten years of training—modest skill, really.” To prove it, he swings dramatically, accidentally flinging *Spring Thunder* toward the lake. She stifles a laugh as he retrieves it, unembarrassed.
At the pavilion, she admires the inscribed plaques more than the koi—unlike the usual dazzled maidens Xu Fengnian lures here.
*Different is good*, he muses. *Even delicacies grow dull without variety.*
Suddenly, the lake churns violently, mirroring the day of heavy snow. Xu Fengnian, thrilled, sends Miss Fan away and orders the lakeside cleared. He rushes to a docked boat, *Spring Thunder* in hand, only for Old Huang to hobble over, carrying the long cloth bundle that once tormented Xu Fengnian.
Rolling his eyes, Xu Fengnian rows toward the lake’s heart, palms sweating.
*The prince has always been a gambler. This time, he’s betting big.*
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