The small tavern was both rundown and old, with only a few patrons inside. Lord Meishan, already in high spirits, was drinking enthusiastically, making his voice the loudest in the entire tavern.
“Fu Jiuyun, you old undying fool, whenever you need something, you call on me for help. But when you don’t, you hide away somewhere, living carefree and happy... For so many years, Zhen Hongsheng, that sly fox, has been in seclusion all the time, leaving me drinking alone. It's so boring…”
Fu Jiuyun ignored his complaints, which sounded like those of a spurned woman, as his attention was fully on Tan Yin. There were thousands, maybe hundreds, of women who had looked at him with eager eyes upon seeing him for the first time, but ones as eager as Tan Yin… were quite rare.
As he lowered his head to pour some wine, he could feel the pretty young woman opposite him staring at him intently. It was the kind of gaze that ran from his hair down to his fingertips, as if she wanted to see through him completely. Fu Jiuyun felt slightly surprised but didn’t show it. He handed Tan Yin a cup of wine with a smile and said, “May I know the lady’s name?”
“Ji Tan Yin.”
Tan Yin didn’t drink the wine; she clasped the cup in her hands, gently stroking it. She was watching Fu Jiuyun closely. Every word he said, every movement he made, seemed completely ordinary, just like any regular person. But by calculation, he must be nearly three thousand years old by now—older than many immortals in the world. But whether they were immortals or demons, living for so long came with the price of facing the Heavenly Tribulation. Yet, the spirit contained within the soul lantern (a reference to Fu Jiuyun) didn’t have the destiny to undergo the tribulation, and thus could only reincarnate. He didn’t carry the scent of the Forget River (associated with reincarnation in Chinese mythology); did this mean he was reincarnating over and over with his memories intact?
Tan Yin's gaze inevitably carried a trace of pity, and this look made Fu Jiuyun feel an uneasy twinge deep down.
“Miss Ji…” Fu Jiuyun hesitated for a moment, his eyes catching a glimpse of the monk. The monk was drinking silently with Lord Meishan, sitting far from Ji Tan Yin, not even glancing in her direction.
“Have we… met before?” Fu Jiuyun cautiously probed.
Tan Yin thought for a moment: “You could say that.”
Fu Jiuyun fell into contemplation. His memory was usually excellent, and Ji Tan Yin was certainly an extraordinary-looking woman. He was confident that if he had seen her before, he would have remembered. But as he racked his brain, he couldn’t recall even the faintest impression of her.
Meanwhile, Yuan Zhong had already managed to get the endlessly chattering Lord Meishan drunk and unconscious on the floor. Turning back to Fu Jiuyun, he smiled thoughtfully and said in a low voice, “Done talking?”
Fu Jiuyun smiled serenely as he refilled Yuan Zhong’s cup, his expression calm and composed. “Your Highness, the Grand Monk, let me offer you a drink in thanks for those five jars of 'Drunken Life, Dream of Death' you gave me last time.”
Yuan Zhong, holding his cup, gave him a knowing smile but remained silent and didn’t drink. After a long while, he finally spoke slowly, “It’s been many years since we last met, and you’re still as charming and suave as ever.”
Fu Jiuyun pretended not to hear the comment. Raising his cup, he said lightly, “In recent years, I’ve traveled far and wide. Feeling inspired, I wish to compose a melody. Your Highness, known for your refined tastes, how about helping me think of a name for the piece?”
At the time, most melodies composed in the music workshops of the mortal world used already-established names for tunes, which Fu Jiuyun found unbearably vulgar. The piece he wanted to compose would be unparalleled, unprecedented, unmatched in the world. He had thought of many names but was unsatisfied with all of them.
Yuan Zhong smiled and said, “With such refined interests, how could I decline? Have you finished the composition? Let me hear it first before we talk about names.”
Fu Jiuyun took the flute from his waist and played a short melody. The piece wasn’t finished yet; this was just a fragment born from a sudden inspiration. Although the flute’s sound was graceful, it still felt a bit thin. However, the tune was tender and winding, like a gentle breeze or flowing water. Even Tan Yin, upon hearing it, felt a sense of peace and tranquility. After thousands of years, she thought, how could such a beautiful tune still exist in the mortal world?
Yuan Zhong tapped his fingers lightly on the table, keeping time with the rhythm. When the short melody ended, he sat in silence for a while before finally saying, “This tune is delicate and filled with emotion, like the brilliance of springtime, with a sense of infinite blossoms in full bloom… How about calling it ‘East Wind and Peach Blossom Melody’?”
At this moment, Lord Meishan, completely drunk, clapped his hands and said, “No, no! It made me so sleepy my head’s spinning! Just call it the Lullaby!”
Fu Jiuyun seemed not to hear his drunken nonsense, but he softly repeated the words “East Wind and Peach Blossom,” as if he greatly admired the name.
Yuan Zhong, seeing how Tan Yin’s gaze was practically glued to Fu Jiuyun’s face, thought it best not to let this foolish girl continue staring. Nothing good could come of it. He stood up, pressed his palms together in farewell, and said, “I’m not much of a drinker, so I’ll take my leave first. Let’s drink together another time.”
With that, he grabbed Tan Yin and dragged her out, leaving no room for protest.
“Had your fill of looking?” he asked her in a cheerful, soft tone as they walked, his demeanor as gentle as could be.
Tan Yin, struggling to keep her balance as she was pulled along, barely managed to steady herself when he suddenly threw out another line: “If not, should we go back and take another look?”
Tan Yin stared up at him for a moment. Yuan Zhong was smiling warmly, with genuine sincerity, as if he were truly asking this question out of the goodness of his heart.
“Hmm, I’ll go back and take another look,” she said, clearly still unsettled by something.
Yuan Zhong immediately let go of her hand, as if it had suddenly grown thorns. Without another word, he turned on his heel and left, his robe billowing behind him.
Was he… angry? Tan Yin rubbed her wrist, which had been sore from being yanked around. Even though he was a fox spirit, he was still a man, like Tai He. And men's hearts, she thought, were something she could never quite figure out. Tai He had gone through similar phases of hot-and-cold mood swings, which left her feeling equally helpless.
She pushed open the half-closed door of the small tavern. As expected, Fu Jiuyun was still sitting where he had been, while Lord Meishan, thoroughly drunk, lay slumped over the table, snoring loudly with the heavy stench of alcohol in the air.
“Fu… Jiuyun?” Tan Yin tentatively called out softly. She was sure that was his name, right?
Fu Jiuyun looked at her with slight surprise. This girl had actually come back. Was she not afraid that the Grand Monk might kill her in a fit of rage?
“Miss Ji, do you need something?” He toned down his attitude a little, growing cooler. This girl’s gaze was far too intense, and it seemed like she had some involvement with the Grand Monk of the Fox Clan. He had no interest in stirring up trouble for no reason.
Tan Yin glanced around. The tavern only had a few patrons scattered here and there. But Fu Jiuyun’s striking appearance meant even the tavern’s owner and waiters occasionally cast glances in their direction. Her eyes gleamed for a moment, and suddenly, with a wave of her hand, all the noise around them ceased. Lord Meishan’s drunken mumbling stopped abruptly, and a waiter, in the middle of pouring wine for a man at a neighboring table, froze with the wine hanging mid-air.
All activities in the small tavern suddenly came to a halt, as if everything had entered some strange, otherworldly state.
Fu Jiuyun was slightly startled—who was she? How could she possess such abilities?!
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