“You are the spirit that was born from the soul lantern I crafted,” Tan Yin said, slowly approaching him step by step, her eyes growing brighter. The light from within her seemed to radiate out through her snow-white skin, emitting a dazzling, cold brilliance that made it impossible for anyone to move.
Fu Jiuyun was so shocked that he couldn't utter a word. He tried to move, but found that his body was completely immobilized. The radiant light from her body began to blur his vision, and a strange drowsiness crept over him, as if he were about to fall asleep.
“The soul lantern has long been lost in the mortal world, and I have no intention of retrieving it.” She stood before Fu Jiuyun, reaching out with one finger, gently touching his forehead. Her fingertips were soft and fragrant, bringing with them a comforting warmth.
“But if the soul lantern is ever lit, you will be utterly destroyed. Even if, by some miracle, you manage to revive again, you will still face the endless torment of reincarnation.” Tan Yin gathered light at her fingertip and sent it into his brow, her voice soft and gentle. “I don't know what your future holds, but today I give you a bit of good fortune, to spare you from the pain of reincarnation.”
The cold light was absorbed into Fu Jiuyun’s forehead, and Tan Yin withdrew her hand, lowering her gaze to examine him carefully. Fu Jiuyun’s existence was her greatest accomplishment as a craftsman, and she felt an immense sense of pride. Even when she had been suffering from a terminal illness and coughed up blood before dying, her soul lingering in the mortal realm for years, the fire of her craftsmanship had never dimmed. But during the war between gods and demons, the soul lantern she had created had been rejected by Tai He, who deemed it too cruel, nearly extinguishing the flame in her heart.
But today, that flame had reignited—he was her achievement.
She was the unrivaled craftsman in the world.
Fu Jiuyun suddenly snapped awake, as if from a dream. Glancing down, he saw that his cup still held wine, and Lord Meishan was still muttering drunkenly, filling the tavern with the stench of alcohol. The few other patrons were scattered about, and a waiter had just poured wine for a man at the next table, spilling a little and getting scolded for it. Outside the tavern, people bustled about, and the sun shone brightly.
Did something just happen? He chuckled at himself—had he zoned out for a moment?
The Grand Monk had already dragged Ji Tan Yin away, leaving behind two empty wine cups on the table… Wait, Ji Tan Yin? Who was she? He frowned and focused, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t recall her face. It felt as if some irresistible force within him was preventing him from remembering her. And the moment he thought of her, the memory slipped away again. Seeing Lord Meishan sleeping soundly, he didn’t bother him, instead pondering his "East Wind and Peach Blossom" melody.
Yuan Zhong was in a foul mood, and the worst part was, he was frustrated with himself for feeling this way, which only made him angrier.
The weight of the silver in his arms was substantial. He casually tossed it onto the bed and counted it. Over the past few days, he had managed to snatch more than four hundred taels of silver from Ji Tan Yin’s hands, bit by bit. Four hundred taels was enough for an ordinary person to live comfortably for quite a while, even enjoy a life of wealth. But he was an immortal, and this amount wouldn’t even feed his mount for a few months.
Why was he taking her money? He was irritated by his own unreasonable behavior.
It was her choice to follow him, insisting she would stay with him for life, chasing after him both openly and secretly, giving him nowhere to run. She fed his male pride and vanity to the point where he was almost beguiled by her.
She was like an all-purpose guardian deity. When he needed money, she gave it to him; when he was angry or upset, she amused him. Why was she doing this? Could she actually be in love with him?
Yuan Zhong smirked bitterly at this absurd thought. He had encountered many women, but he had never really understood them, nor had he ever tried to. He loved the beauty of women’s appearances but never cared to understand their hearts. So, he had no idea—what was Ji Tan Yin's heart really like?
She committed all sorts of infuriating, obnoxious, and yet endearing acts toward him, only to then turn around and stare longingly at other men. Were women really such terrifying creatures? No wonder so many older men said that a beautiful woman’s affection was the hardest thing to bear. Right now, he certainly found it unbearable.
Yuan Zhong slowly peeled off his false face, unable to resist the urge to check his reflection in the mirror.
The bronze mirror reflected his face—pale, a little gaunt. How was he any less attractive than Fu Jiuyun?
He stared at his reflection for a long time before realizing how utterly foolish he was being. He threw the mirror aside and was about to head out for a walk when someone knocked on the door twice. In his bad mood, he couldn’t be bothered to answer.
Whoever it was seemed to have stood outside for a moment before leaving, and Yuan Zhong’s mood worsened. He’d been in a bad mood far too often lately. Perhaps he should take some kind of calming elixir.
After an unknown amount of time had passed, a strange “clack, clack” sound echoed in the guest room, as if many people were walking around. Yuan Zhong suddenly opened his eyes, realizing it was already dusk. He had fallen asleep, leaning against the bed.
With a flick of his fingers, he lit a candle. The “clack, clack” sound grew closer, and when he looked down, he saw the guest room door was half open. Several tiny wooden figures, even smaller than the one he had seen before, were clumsily making their way toward the bed, each dressed in colorful clothing.
Yuan Zhong was dumbfounded. The small wooden figures marched up to his feet, lined up neatly in three rows, pressed their palms together in greeting, and then began to dance and sing. They performed the song “Jian Xi,” but this time, with so many little wooden figures, their performance was far more grandiose than the single one he had seen before. Their robes swayed, their voices were high-pitched, and their performance, with all its seriousness, was truly adorable.
And that wasn’t all. A number of tiny mechanical birds, their bodies delicately crafted, fluttered in through the door. Their calls were crisp, and aside from lacking vibrant feathers, they were indistinguishable from real birds. These mechanical birds carried flowers in their beaks and circled the wooden figures, scattering petals like rain.
When the performance ended, Yuan Zhong’s jaw had yet to close. Then, from behind the door, a slightly larger mechanical magpie flew in, carrying a small note in its beak. It landed on his arm, tilting its head back and forth with a playful air.
Yuan Zhong slowly pulled the note from the magpie’s beak. It had only three words written on it: “Dinner time?”
He looked up, and from behind the door, only a pair of eyes could be seen—Ji Tan Yin, foolishly staring at him.
He was both angry and amused, and the bad mood he had felt all day suddenly evaporated.
How stupid was he? How stupid?
Why was he laughing? Why did he suddenly feel so refreshed?
Yuan Zhong deliberately dropped the note, waved away the mechanical magpie, and turned over in bed without saying a word.
Before long, the sound of chirping birds filled the room, echoing incessantly, like raindrops falling thick and fast. Seven or eight mechanical birds had landed on his arm, including magpies, crows, and even a lively little eagle. Each bird carried a note, and all of them bore the same three words.
Yuan Zhong’s head throbbed from the constant chirping. He sighed, got up, and looked toward the guest room door. Ji Tan Yin was still hiding in the same spot, watching him with eager anticipation.
“Sigh…” He let out a long sigh, just as he was about to speak when a sudden flash of white light outside the window lit up everything like daylight. It was followed by the startled murmur of many people: “Tianguang Kaihe has begun!”
Tianguang Kaihe had appeared eight hours earlier than the Yuqing Immortal had predicted.
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