On the third day of He Bang’s disappearance, Rong Chen Zi found out — he had always been uneasy, and when Ye Tian falsely claimed to be with He Bang, he requested to speak with He Bang via a transmission talisman.

Zhuang Shaoqin had never hoped to conceal it for long — his only worry had been that if Rong Chen Zi learned of He Bang’s disappearance, he would no longer have any heart for the offering rituals. What he had not expected was that when Rong Chen Zi found out, he was nowhere near as frantic as Zhuang Shaoqin had imagined: “I once planted Conjoined Cinnabar on her — by following the spiritual trace I can find her without difficulty. Tonight I will separate my soul and go look for her.”

Conjoined Cinnabar was a Daoist method by which deeply close individuals could track one another by spiritual resonance and communicate without words. Hearing this, Zhuang Shaoqin let out a sigh of relief: “Elder Brother, why didn’t you say so earlier? You gave me an unnecessary fright.”

Ye Tian also felt greatly relieved: “That said, part of the fault is mine — knowing full well that Yuyan Zhenren felt no particular goodwill toward her, I still left her alone in the temple.”

Rong Chen Zi waved it off: “This has nothing to do with you. Rest now — I will go find her myself.”

With the Conjoined Cinnabar to follow the spiritual trace, Rong Chen Zi found this disobedient little creature almost immediately. The capital had a moat, and the moat had a tributary flowing east — passing through the winding rocks and stones on the eastern side, it formed a secluded, water-rich paradise lush with peach trees. It was a fine place for young men and women to go strolling.

Naturally there were many small stalls and vendors there, selling all manner of food. The heat being what it was, He Bang, too lazy to go anywhere, had taken up residence in a cavern hollowed into the great stone beneath a cool, clear pool — sheltered, quiet, with food close at hand. She found it extremely comfortable and planned to stay until the summer heat broke in autumn before moving along.

When Rong Chen Zi arrived, Jade Bone had just helped He Bang get to sleep. Seeing Rong Chen Zi, Jade Bone was still nervous, and only lowered her head and said: “Zhiguan.”

Rong Chen Zi naturally had no wish to make things difficult for her — in He Bang’s presence, Jade Bone was nothing more than a rabbit. Whatever He Bang wished, there was no stopping her. The stone cavern was not large, but more than adequate for three or four people. Rong Chen Zi made his way inside and found the interior with only a large round table, and beside the table a particularly lush clump of water plants.

He Bang had burrowed into this clump of water plants and was sleeping soundly, her shell shut. Rong Chen Zi shook his head with a helpless smile — since he had come here as a separated soul, he performed a technique and slipped himself inside He Bang’s shell.

Within the shell, a soft, lustrous pearl-light diffused through the space. The river clam at the centre was extremely small — just over three feet in length. Rong Chen Zi clasped her soft little hand and lay down beside her, sighing quietly: “How have you gone wandering off again?”

He Bang, at first thinking she was dreaming, blinked hard several times before finally registering that Rong Chen Zi was truly at her side. She immediately became indignant: “You ignored me entirely — so why come looking for me now?!”

Rong Chen Zi clasped her snow-white wrist and slowly drew her to rest against his chest. Daoist techniques were truly wondrous — though he had come only as his primordial spirit, he was as solid as his physical form: “When have I ever ignored you? It was only that a National Offering is no trifling matter — it cannot be disturbed. Be good and listen. In a few days when the offering is complete, I will take you back.”

He Bang pouted her soft rosy little lips, turned over repeatedly for a while, and finally rolled onto her side with her back to him: “I’m not going back. I will never go back again.”

Rong Chen Zi simply clasped her small hand pressed to his chest and said no more, and pulled her close as they slept.

The next morning, He Bang woke up to find Rong Chen Zi already gone. She still half-suspected she had been dreaming, until Jade Bone came in with food and told her: “Zhiguan went back to the ceremonial temple. He said he would come again tonight.”

The lingering flame of He Bang’s indignation had not died down: “Who cares if he comes? Once the weather cools down, I’m going back to the Eastern Sea!”

Jade Bone said quietly: “Mistress, do you truly intend to stop following Zhiguan?”

He Bang pursed her lips and thought for a while, then stuffed a piece of slow-braised beef tendon — braised until soft and yielding — into her mouth: “But being a furnace vessel means an extremely low standing. It would be a very pitiful thing in the end.”

She had, after all, been a great demon of several thousand years and had weathered her share of storms — she could think on a longer horizon. In truth, the sweetness or bitterness of all things in the world was nothing more than what one sought out for oneself. There was truly no point in indulging in a few decades of happiness only to end in a desolate close.

With her mistress holding such thoughts, how could Jade Bone dare say another word? She could only make sure the food was well-supplied, so that she could eat her fill and sleep soundly.

The following night, just as expected, no sooner had Rong Chen Zi finished the day’s offering rituals than his soul came to find her again. He walked into the stone cavern without a word and picked up the river clam who had just eaten her fill. He Bang was curled in her shell, just settling in to sleep — startled out of it, she was greatly displeased. But before she could protest, she looked out and saw the bright moon and scattered stars, a gentle breeze blowing — cool and refreshing.

The entertainment of the capital’s people was far richer than that of Lingxia Town, and with no curfew, the nights were at their liveliest. Rong Chen Zi took He Bang to see shadow puppet theatre. The pear-blossom garden was full of vendors circulating with tea, pastries, sweetened dates, and melon seeds. Rong Chen Zi spread a length of soft silk on the table and carefully placed He Bang in the centre of the cloth. Their seat was near the front. He Bang opened her shell and watched the stage, while Rong Chen Zi fed her grape raisins, red dates, and shelled melon seeds from time to time. She munched on snacks and watched the performance, and her drowsiness gradually retreated.

Her shell tilted and shifted to follow the angle of the shadow puppet fights on stage. Before long she turned back to look at Rong Chen Zi. He had not been paying much attention to the performance himself — his long, clean hands had shelled an entire pile of melon seeds and peanuts, the kernels all heaped together. At that moment he was crushing a few walnuts and carefully picking out the walnut meat, peeling it clean.

Noticing He Bang watching him, he fed her a walnut kernel.

He Bang watched the performance happily for a while, then found the peanuts and melon seeds not sweet enough — and not long after, a vendor selling sugar-coated peanuts came and stood nearby, weighing out peanuts for the watching audience. He Bang coveted those peanuts, each grain coated in golden malt sugar, and seeing no one looking, she couldn’t help but reach out her soft, spade-shaped foot into the basket and try to get some.

The garden was dimly lit, and the vendor was busy serving customers, not noticing a thing. He Bang got a taste of what she was after and promptly stopped eating even the melon seed kernels Rong Chen Zi was handing her.

A long while later, some wealthy man’s concubine nearby suddenly let out a shriek: “Heavens! That river clam is stealing sugar-coated peanuts!!”

= mouth =

The second night, a martial arts practitioner had specially set up a fighting platform for his daughter to choose a husband through a tournament of arms. Rong Chen Zi took He Bang along to join in the spectacle — He Bang had long been eagerly waiting for him to come back and take her out, and ate her fill without going to sleep. Rong Chen Zi held her hand as they walked through the night market and bought her a lotus lantern. She carried it in her hand, lighting things here and there, delighted to the core. By the time they reached the fighting platform, she caught the scent of buns. Rong Chen Zi had no choice but to go buy some; she stood at the edge of the platform, her pale yellow long dress blown at a slant by the night breeze, sleeves and hems fluttering — she was lighter than falling petals, the flower lantern she held with slender hands swaying in the wind, like a fairy of the Jade Pool descended to earth.

Countless people around her assumed she was the young lady whose hand was being sought through the tournament. An uproar immediately arose, and all the assembled heroes’ spirits surged — they swarmed forward, clamouring to pay tribute to the beauty, swearing to spill their blood for her sake!

And then Rong Chen Zi came back with the buns and led her to a tea stall nearby to sit. He was dressed in the garb of a Daoist practitioner, which prompted some to suspect he was some immoral sorcerer from a local temple who had lured a beauty out to sell. In the time it took to drink one pot of tea, more than ten men had approached one after another, each more shifty-eyed than the last, making small talk and then circuitously enquiring about the price. Several of them ended up in a dispute that could not be resolved, the figures quoted kept escalating, and they finally simply came to blows.

It was fortunate indeed that Daoists placed the highest value on cultivating the self and nurturing one’s nature — otherwise Rong Chen Zi might very well have broken more than a few heads with his horsetail whisk.

The third night, Rong Chen Zi took He Bang to see the bell tower of the capital. This was the tallest building in the capital, its body rising over twelve zhang in height, shaped like a pagoda, with a great bronze bell suspended from the highest tier. Rong Chen Zi held He Bang close as they stood at the very pinnacle of the bell tower’s spire, looking out over the ten thousand lights of the mortal world below — those pinpoints of radiance gathering and dispersing, shimmering and brilliant, as though the entire Milky Way had been spread out at their feet.

A gentle breeze came drifting in. He Bang spread her arms wide to receive it, her hair and hem dancing freely. The round moon rose at her back, the night sky a single piece of sapphire — He Bang closed her eyes and let the cool wind caress her, and after a long while said: “Standing here feels like standing in the sky.”

Rong Chen Zi smiled serenely, and drew her to sit with him on the glazed tiles of the tower’s peak. He had come only as his soul this time and could not smell the fragrance of her divine flesh. But He Bang felt her heart full to the brim — sitting like this for a lifetime seemed as though it would be no bad thing at all. Rong Chen Zi let her lean against him, and after a long while said: “In a hundred years, will you come back to the heavens with me?”

He Bang suddenly turned and clutched the bell tower’s gilded finial: “This looks just like a candied hawthorn stick!!”

Rong Chen Zi did not wish to pressure her, and in the end took her hand and said: “Let us go. Let’s go down and buy candied hawthorn.”

The fourth night, when Rong Chen Zi came again, He Bang did not want to go out with him. Separating one’s soul was itself a great drain, and Rong Chen Zi, with his mortal body, had been exhausting himself all day presiding over the offering rituals — and then every night he separated his soul to come and take her out to play. With no rest day or night, even a Daoist of his attainment could not sustain it indefinitely.

He relied on his deep cultivation and never mentioned it, but He Bang had the sensitivity of an internal cultivator — she could feel his exhaustion. So that evening she had Jade Bone turn him away at the entrance, and she herself went into her shell to sleep.

Jade Bone stood watch at the entrance to the stone cavern, and He Bang had passed on to her some heart-methods for controlling water, so she practised them on her own when she had nothing else to do. With Chunyu Lin’s foundational work from before, and a single drop of the Crying Snake’s dragon-serpent blood on top of that, she learned without much difficulty. Only He Bang was too lazy to pass on much.

When the third watch of the night came, a strange sound suddenly emerged from outside. Jade Bone jolted awake at once, and looking up, could barely believe her own eyes — making their way through the clear, cold pool water came a figure, step by measured step, red robes rippling, black hair drifting, beauty enough to overturn the age.

Her whole body went rigid. After a long moment, she reached out a trembling voice: “Master?”

The newcomer, seeing her here, was also mildly taken aback, but then said lightly: “So you are here as well.”

That voice — gentle as it had always been. Jade Bone’s eyes grew warm: “Master, you’re still alive!!” She flew forward and wrapped her arms around that soft waist, tears pouring down: “You’re still alive!”

The one who had come was unmistakably Chunyu Lin. A smile gradually spread across his exquisite face, and he gently patted Jade Bone’s back: “I am alive, of course. Do not grieve.”

Jade Bone cried for some time, then finally remembered: “Let me go tell Mistress!”

Chunyu Lin gave a slight nod, his steps unhurried, and followed her into He Bang’s stone cavern.

Jade Bone woke He Bang, who was fast asleep. He Bang opened her shell and saw him — those red robes seemed to kindle a fire in her eyes, but she showed not a trace of joy: “What do you want?”

Jade Bone, overjoyed to the point of disbelief, could not make sense of such coldness and was momentarily confused. Chunyu Lin, for his part, settled himself composedly at the stone table, his voice bright and clear: “The weather is so hot. Seeing the Emperor lingering here and not departing, I could not help but come and look in.”

He Bang fixed her gaze on his eyes, gentle as still water: “Have you finished looking?”

Chunyu Lin’s expression flickered. He Bang immediately issued her dismissal: “Then go.”

“Mistress…” Jade Bone called out softly, but in the end dared not go against He Bang’s wishes. Chunyu Lin extended his right hand and produced a box as though from nowhere, handing it to Jade Bone: “Inside are some sweets the Emperor enjoys. I will take my leave first. Her constitution is delicate and frail — watch over her carefully.”

Jade Bone’s eyes were full of reluctance, but she dared not see him out, and could only take the food box and watch him leave.

“Mistress.” She turned back, meaning to say something to He Bang, but was stopped cold by a single icy sentence: “If you wish to follow him, you can leave right now.”

Jade Bone was shocked and horrified, and immediately fell to her knees: “This servant would not dare — this servant will devote this entire life to Mistress’s service!”

He Bang shut her shell, and after a long pause, gave Jade Bone one hint: “Chunyu Lin had only three hundred years or so of cultivation, while the Crying Snake is a ferocious beast of at least ten thousand years. Even with the two merged into one — do you truly believe it is Chunyu Lin who survived?”

Tears welled up in Jade Bone’s eyes again: “So he…”

She did not finish. She knew she should trust He Bang’s words — He Bang had absolutely no reason to deceive her, given Jade Bone’s current level of ability. And yet she still harboured a hope bordering on wishful thinking — that face, that gaze, those words and expressions and mannerisms: in which of them was there any trace that was not Chunyu Lin?

Since moving about in one’s true form was genuinely inconvenient, all river clams were extremely lazy by nature. Even a great river clam who had cultivated for over four thousand years could not change this inborn trait. So when food was plentiful, He Bang was quite well-behaved — she would basically not go wandering about, eating her fill and sleeping.

Rong Chen Zi would come to look in on her every day after finishing the day’s offering rituals, and whenever he found her sleeping he would not disturb her. Chunyu Lin also came by from time to time, bringing food as always. Jade Bone always worried the two of them would run into each other, but the two of them seemed to have made some unspoken agreement, and never once crossed paths.

She had a vague feeling that the Chunyu Lin of now was truly vastly different from before — she always sensed a demonic, uncanny quality seeping through him at the core, which gave her an inexplicable fear she could not place. And yet when she thought about it carefully, she could not identify where this oppressive feeling was coming from. He was still the same as before — he would speak to her with great gentleness, and though there were no intimate gestures, every time he opened his mouth even his eyes held a warm, gentle radiance.

Day or night, in the depths of the pool it was always still and silent. Light could not reach the dark corners, which were pitch black. He Bang shot upright with a cry, and Jade Bone, hearing the sound, hurried over to attend to her. Seeing her in the state of someone waking from a nightmare, Jade Bone dared not ask what she had dreamt, and could only mix up some sweetened water for her.

He Bang drank a bowl of sweet water, then curled back into her shell and closed her eyes again. Something felt hollow and adrift inside her, and for no particular reason she began to think of Rong Chen Zi. She had lived for over four thousand years and had never known what longing was. It was only after this period of separation, with Rong Chen Zi presiding over the National Offering, that she had slowly begun to taste it.

Now, turning back and forth in her shell, unable to sleep, she could not help but think of Rong Chen Zi’s broad warm chest, his strong capable arms, his callous-roughened palms, and the intoxicatingly appetising scent of his flesh… = =

But she also knew she could not let Rong Chen Zi come tonight. Ever since she had run from Qingxu Temple to here, Rong Chen Zi had been extremely indulgent toward her — clearly feeling guilty, believing she had suffered greatly back at the temple. If she said anything, Rong Chen Zi would certainly come in the night, and would stay until dawn, but he still had matters to attend to the next day, and it would inevitably be far too taxing.

She tossed and turned, drifting in and out of a hazy half-sleep — and when she opened her eyes, she found Rong Chen Zi’s face not two or three inches from her own. That warm, gentle pair of lips brushed past her cheek, and He Bang could not help but rub her eyes: “Zhiguan, why have you come?”

The Rong Chen Zi before her only smiled without answering, and slowly kissed her lips, her chin, then moved to her throat — He Bang was so content she let out a long, soft hum. Then, suddenly, from behind Rong Chen Zi’s neck, a savage, grotesque snake head shot out!!

He Bang’s heart gave a violent lurch — she woke in a jolt, only to realize it had been another nightmare.