Prologue

Dear Unknown:

This is I don’t know which letter your mother has written to you — traveling from one city to another, running from winter all the way into spring. What comforts your mother most is that we have already found four of the missing pieces of blue amber, or more precisely, the four stones hidden within the blue amber: the Flower of the Abyss, the Silk Fox Eye, the Branch Sparrow, and that “Peach Spring Cage” that turned your mother into a citizen of Lilliput.

The irritating Uncle Jiayī has become your mother’s new employee. What he excels at most is still making your mother half-dead with anger. Still, we must also be grateful for his occasional help and care. If he could exchange the Silk Fox Eye over to your mother, I would like him a little more.

As the satisfaction of recovering each “lost item” builds, a sense of unease and regret lingers in your mother’s heart. You see — apart from Chunlu, who came through unharmed — from Qianji to the ninety-eighth and Tianyin, they all departed. Of the remaining eight pieces of blue amber, who knows how many strange and peculiar, good and bad creatures they will bring before us. If they were all thoroughly wicked through and through like You Ju and the old demon woman, that would actually be simpler. But if they’re all like Qianji and Tianyin — “prodigal sons returning” who made some mistakes and then came to their senses — your mother is going to find it very troublesome.

Unknown, you’ve probably noticed by now: only when those sealed inside the blue amber disappear do these extraordinary stones, each with their own story, reveal their true forms. Which means that in the time ahead, your mother must continue to witness — and may have no choice but to “facilitate” — the disappearance of eight sealed beings, in order to help your father and great-grandfather resolve the great trouble between the Eastern Sea Dragon Clan and the Heavenly Realm.

If your mother were required to act against beings like Qianji or Tianyin, purely to obtain the stones embedded within their lives — your mother could never do such a thing. But the great gods of the Heavenly Realm are far more troublesome than demons, especially that undying Heavenly Emperor, and his henchman, the War God Liao Yuan, whom your mother has always despised. If they set their minds to causing trouble for the Eastern Sea Dragon Clan, your mother fears things will develop in a very bad direction. The gods of the Heavenly Realm love nothing more than “manipulation” and “submission.” Too many clans have paid an enormous price for “not listening.” The Eastern Sea Dragon Clan may hold a status rivaling the gods, free from the Heavenly Realm’s jurisdiction — but that is precisely what makes them most vulnerable. Between the Heavenly Realm and the Eastern Sea, the peace is surface-level at best.

Never mind. These topics are too deep for you right now. When you’re born, when you’ve grown up, when you’ve truly come to know this world — whatever path you choose for yourself, you will certainly see all the sunlight and flowers this world holds, as well as its fractures and ugliness. You will feel joy and pride, sorrow and fear, and all of these emotions are entirely natural. Your mother’s only wish for you is this: whether at the peak or in the valley, do not stop moving. You see the little shop your mother runs — it will always be called “Bu Ting” — Never Stop.

Returning to the stones: your mother’s two greatest questions right now are these. First, the twelve sealed beings. If they were truly the gods of ancient times, how did they end up sealed away? And who could have had such power as to seal even gods?

Second, the “state of existence” of these stones. When the first two pieces of blue amber fell from You Ju and the old demon woman, both were intact. But the stones on Qianji and Tianyin emerged already in their true forms — the outer blue amber that should have encased them had vanished entirely. This puzzled me for a long time, until Tianyin told of their past as a heavenly god. That’s when I formed a bold theory: whenever a sealed being is influenced and purified by the power of their stone, they break through the blue amber that served as the first layer of the seal. Afterward, the sealed being returns to this world in their true form, with the stone existing as a part of their life, dwelling within their soul.

As for those sealed beings who were never purified — they can only remain in the form of that blue amber “pigeon egg,” parasitizing a host whose nature aligns with their own malice, continuing to cause harm by manipulating a puppet. Your despairing grandfather, for example, was possessed by You Ju, who feeds on despair. And Chunlu, who harbored jealousy, had her body seized by the envious old demon woman. So in the end, the Flower of the Abyss and the Silk Fox Eye remained encased within their blue amber.

I believe the key lies in whether the sealed beings were “purified” by the power of their stones.

And that layer of blue amber — I had always assumed its purpose was simply to reinforce the stone’s seal. But looking at it now, that doesn’t seem to be the whole picture. I have even come to feel that the blue amber is not there to assist those stones in their purifying work — but rather to suppress their effects. The forces of the blue amber and the stone have been struggling against each other all along. Once the stone’s purification succeeds, the blue amber, as the “loser,” shatters. But if the purification fails, the blue amber endures — and even abets the malice.

If that is so — who, then, wanted to obstruct the careful intentions of that original sealer?

But this is nothing to fret over. For a demon of perpetually vigorous curiosity like your mother, the appearance and excavation of “secrets” is where all the joy lies. Most importantly, no matter how mysterious or fearsome a secret’s outer garment may appear, your mother has no fear of any of them. The source of this courage may be your mother’s nature, or the friends around her, or perhaps you, my dear little Unknown. And of course, there is one more reason your mother must whisper to you quietly: your father — who is forever going missing — has come back.

Though he has clearly run into trouble.

1

Tangled thornbushes crisscrossed in the warm air. A snake, tongue flickering, darted swiftly into the dry earth.

A trail of snow-white pebbles was inlaid within the thorns — clean as a freshly woven ribbon of silk.

From the end of the path came the faint sound of conversation.

“These red dots are…”

“The source of power.”

“I understand. Thank you!”

“Your name is… Tian Kong?”

“Yes. And what shall I call you?”

“Forgotten. I only remember that many years ago, I seem to have been an immortal in the Heavens — armored, longsword in hand, half a lifetime of campaigns.”

“An immortal? It sounds like you must have been a particularly courageous god.”

“No — I remember, in the end I became a tremendous coward… and because of my cowardice, I harmed quite a few living creatures. Never mind, I can’t recall the details anymore. I say — shouldn’t you be on your way? You still have so much to do!”

“Yes!”

From the wisp of thin mist, an agile figure leapt high above the thornbush grove.

2

In the early hours before dawn, Johannesburg was as silent as a city of ghosts. The streetlamps along the road grew dimmer one after another. A few vagrants slept soundly at the roadside.

Inside a mansion as resplendent as a castle, every light blazed.

In a room filled with medical equipment and specialists, Briman sat dazed, holding the cold body of his only child.

He was the wealthiest man in this city — in this entire country. He had once declared arrogantly that no one in this nation could stand higher than he did; looking down, all he saw was a ground full of common weeds.

Anything he wanted could be bought — including life.

Childless for decades, it was only at fifty-eight, from his seventh wife, that he finally received a boy carved from jade, whom he treasured beyond all else. But the misfortune was that this four-year-old child had, a year ago, suddenly contracted a rare malignant tumor. Every specialist he brought in told him with certainty: even with their best efforts, the child would not survive a year.

He dialed a number.

The one who could save his son was not those specialists, but a certain “insurance policy.”

Benjamin Walker was the world’s greatest “insurance” broker. If he could once keep Briman himself safe and sound, he could surely shield his son from Death’s aim as well.

So why had it failed this time?

Briman finally let out a howl like a beast: “Why didn’t he come back to life? What happened?! Benjamin, you bastard, what exactly did you do?!”

His despairing, furious voice burst through the window and shattered into fragments in the night.

An hour earlier, at the corner of Spring Street, an unremarkable Walker Insurance Company had been barged into by three uninvited guests — two men and one woman.

This so-called company occupied the bottom floor of an old building, with normally only one person working inside.

Benjamin Walker was slumped against the wall, half-collapsed in his ransacked office, slowly wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth. In the floor, an open gap roughly two meters square gaped wide, a ladder extending downward.

No one knew that beneath this unassuming company lay a spacious underground chamber.

Several cages of various sizes were arranged neatly around the perimeter. The largest could have held a full-grown elephant. In the open space at the center, a black lacquered coffin of the sort seen in vampire films had been kicked apart. Human and animal bones lay scattered inside; a medieval high-stemmed silver goblet had toppled among the bones, with traces of blood remaining within it.

Around the coffin were drawn strange symbols. A ring of white candles that had been burning around it were kicked every which way. The door of one of the cages hung open, twisted out of shape.

This dim, shadowed place looked exactly like a witch’s chamber.

At that moment, a mobile phone rang. Benjamin picked it up. Before he could speak, Briman’s frantic voice screamed through the receiver: “Sali is dead!”

“Someone took away Sali’s life-vessel and terminated my curse,” Benjamin said, touching his bruised face. “If you want revenge for Sali, I’d be happy to help.”

“You listen to me — whoever did this, I want them dead without a trace!”

3

This was my second time in South Africa. The last time I came, Ao Chi and I were still in our honeymoon period.

But this time, I was speeding across the African continent in my second-hand car with an unconscious antelope, plus those two troublesome men — Ao Chi and Jiayī — heading for Kruger Reserve, a few hours’ drive from Johannesburg.

April in South Africa, the temperature was just right. It was already morning; beneath an increasingly golden sun, this land straddling the equator slowly revealed its beauty and wildness to us, piece by piece.

Ever since Ao Chi came back, I had been kicked off the driver’s seat. This anxiety-ridden expectant father declared that pregnant women should not be driving — dangerous! But with his habit of driving as though he were drag racing, was I supposed to feel safe?!

Wait — you’re all saying what? The story is moving too fast? You want to rewind to the part where Ao Chi appeared on the roof of the car?

Hmph. I knew you all wanted to see Ao Chi give me a good thrashing for running away from home, didn’t you? I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. Though this man appeared fierce and menacing when he demanded I pull over, he hadn’t come to settle accounts with me.

After I stopped the car, the very first thing he said to me was: “I’ve run into a maniac! Come help me deal with it, quick!”

My apologies to everyone — at the time I truly could not help it. I laughed most uncharitably. Coming from Ao Chi’s mouth, those words hit me exactly as funny as the time I learned he had gone to find Zuo Zhanyan and then passed out from oxygen deprivation underwater. After months apart, this reunion of a couple who had been through trials together should have been full of endless warmth and emotion — but Ao Chi and I simply had no such awareness.

I still remember that day clearly:

“Could it be that some blind fool has been coveting your good looks? Female or male?”

“Be serious! I’m telling you something real!”

“You’re the one who isn’t being serious! What kind of serious person drops out of someone’s car roof?!”

“I was in a hurry!”

“If you were in such a hurry, why did you wait until now to find me? Didn’t you get my texts? It’s been months!”

“I tried every method I know and couldn’t shake the thing! No matter how many detours I took, how well I hid, it kept following me! I made myself perfectly clear — there is absolutely no way I’m going with it to South Africa!”

“South Africa?”

“Yes!”

“What exactly did you do to deserve this?”

“What else but minding someone else’s business out of a sense of justice! I regret it thoroughly now!”

“You’re telling me that in your great good-heartedness, you rescued a maniac?!”

“Please don’t call me a maniac. I am very sincerely inviting you, brave hero, to come to my homeland and stay there permanently. If you agree, I swear I will never follow you again.” A snow-white ostrich egg came shooting out of the roadside grass and hovered in front of Ao Chi and me.

The moment he laid eyes on the thing, Ao Chi immediately twisted his face away in pain, pointing at the ostrich egg. “That’s it! It’s been following me for months! It can fly, it can run, and it can talk! I can’t shake it!”

At this point, Jiayī materialized from behind us as though a ghost, flicked his finger, and sent a two-inch square of bright yellow talisman paper flying out. It landed squarely on top of the ostrich egg — and a muffled “ow!” came from within. The egg dropped to the ground and couldn’t fly anymore. Jiayī said the talisman paper was equivalent to an invisible prison, very effective at restraining the movements of small-bodied demons. However, the cost of the talisman paper would be deducted from this month’s wages; nothing was being provided for free.

“I’m a demon, but I mean no harm!” With a crack, the shell split open down the middle. A fuzzy little creature not even half a foot long stared at the shell hovering above its head, scratched the back of its head, and gazed at me with a thoroughly dejected expression.

I nearly choked on my own saliva. How on earth was I supposed to describe this feline creature living inside an eggshell? Tiny, with round, wide eyes, triangular ears drooping flat, its fur completely devoid of any sheen — dusty gray, as if it had just finished rolling around in a coal pile. A stick-like tail swept awkwardly back and forth inside the shell. Two tear-stain-like black markings extended from the inner corners of its eyes all the way to the corners of its mouth, giving it every appearance of a dejected, paint-faced cat that had lost a fight. Most peculiar of all, this cat was wearing a glove — a single black fabric glove, firmly fitted onto its left paw.

I have encountered countless cat demons in my time. Setting aside high-caliber specimens like Cang Tongkai and Xuan, even the lowest-ranking cat demons paid careful attention to their own bearing and appearance. A dusty, bedraggled condition like this was absolutely unthinkable for their kind — let alone living inside something as pathetic as an ostrich eggshell!

According to Ao Chi’s account: when he and the old man went to the northern mountain to search for clues about the stones, they passed by the Nine-Color Pool — the densest part of the northern mountain and home to the most exotic birds and beasts. Separated from the old man, he came across a fierce gold-banded two-headed snake locked in fierce combat with a blue-winged fox-bird. What the fox-bird was desperately protecting were the eggs in its nest. The fox-bird was clearly no match for the two-headed snake — losing ground and suffering injuries.

Ao Chi gave the two-headed snake a lesson. He said he couldn’t stand watching the many bully the few: two heads ganging up on one head — not fair play. And that was that. He hadn’t even considered it worth mentioning, and after a fruitless search for leads, he left the northern mountain and returned to Wang Chuan.

But someone decided to treat him as a great hero. That someone was this maniac cat, hiding in its ostrich egg and living inside another creature’s nest. Ao Chi’s appearance had ignited some nerve within it, and it had followed Ao Chi all the way from the northern mountain of the Eastern Sea to Wang Chuan. Ao Chi’s countless attempts to drive it away had all failed. Finally, his temper got the better of him — he raised a fist and declared that if it didn’t leave, he would smash it and its shell into flour.

I asked Ao Chi why he hadn’t followed through. He sighed and said he simply couldn’t bring himself to lay a hand on a little cat.

The consequence of being unable to act decisively was that this little maniac — dead set on getting Ao Chi to emigrate to Africa — chased him from the northern mountain to Wang Chuan, and then from Wang Chuan to the ends of the earth. No matter what method Ao Chi used to conceal himself, no matter how fast he ran or how remote the place he fled to, he couldn’t shake it. His delay in coming to find me was precisely because he didn’t want to be mocked by me on account of this “little tail.” The fearsome and formidable dragon Ao Chi being tailed around by an ostrich egg — that was indeed enormously face-losing. Every time I imagined the scene of an ostrich egg standing next to Ao Chi… I’m sorry, let me laugh a little longer.

“Even if you mean no harm, following someone around like that all the time is still very rude.” I placed it — cat and eggshell together — on the hood of the car and asked, “Why do you need Ao Chi to go to your homeland?”

The glove-wearing cat lay in its shell, its gaze turning suddenly hesitant. “My homeland needs someone as powerful and strong as him to be present.”

“What’s your name? Where is your homeland?” I asked.

“I’m called… Xiao Qing. My homeland is on a savanna in South Africa.” It didn’t even dare raise its head as it spoke.

“Has something happened in your homeland?”

It stuttered for a long time without making any sense, only saying over and over how wonderful its homeland was, how there was nothing like it on Heaven or Earth, how it had magnificent scenery and abundant food, beautiful animals and a gold mountain known to no one — it only begged Ao Chi to come back with it and stay there permanently.

Setting aside how absurd that request was, the phrase “a gold mountain known to no one” struck me squarely.

“There’s a gold mountain!” I pulled Ao Chi aside and whispered.

Ao Chi ground his teeth: “So what? You’d sell me out for a gold mountain?”

I answered honestly: “You’re not worth a gold mountain.”

Ao Chi poked me furiously in the head: “You, a pregnant woman who has already committed the great crime of running away from home, now want to charge out of Asia to South Africa to dig for gold? I’m telling you — don’t think this is over. I have all my anger buried inside me. After you’ve had the baby, I’ll come to collect, with interest!”

“A gold mountain!!” I repeated, just as emphatically, as if I hadn’t heard a word of his threats.

“Gold your head! You’re not going!”

“I want to go!”

“You’re not going!”

“I want to go!”

“Who’s in charge in this family?!” Ao Chi was furious.

I straightened my back, lifted my chin, and stamped my foot hard: “I am! What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing — I was just asking.” Ao Chi’s attitude immediately softened. He wrapped his arms around me to keep me from jumping around any further. “Stop bouncing around! What if you frighten the baby! Whether we go digging for gold or not — let’s discuss it.”

Before he’d finished speaking, a familiar warmth suddenly rose from inside my coat. I had recently made a fresh black cotton drawstring pouch and was keeping all the stones next to my body inside it. The one generating heat was that jade-green “Peach Spring Cage.”

Something was happening! Whenever a stone grew warm, a clue was about to appear. I quickly pulled out the Peach Spring Cage, and a single crystal-clear character — “Go” — appeared in the very center of it, shimmering faintly.

This single character was practically divine intervention, instantly resolving the question of whether to go or not. I explained the stones’ magic to Ao Chi — that they each had a spiritual nature, and that following their guidance would lead us to the right place.

“Why don’t you just say that character might be it cursing you — as in ‘go away’…” A half-believing Ao Chi muttered.

Well — more than the guidance of the Peach Spring Cage, it was really the lure of the gold mountain driving this decision. Don’t judge me. In any case, the South Africa trip was settled.

Ao Chi was deeply unhappy the whole way. Reverting to his true form, he complained that carrying me was heavy enough — but now he also had to carry an employee and carry a car! He was a dragon, not a cargo container!

“What else would you do? You want me to expend spiritual energy flying alongside you?” I prodded him in the head. “I’ve decided — I need to break into international markets, bring Fusheng to foreign countries. Quite possibly many people out there would love it!”

“I beg you! We’re not short of money! Fusheng is something this good — can’t we just keep it for ourselves?”

“No! Searching for blue amber, running a business, and waiting for the baby — all at once, not wasting a single moment. This is the rich and full life of a tree demon proprietress!”

Feeling quite pleased with myself at this point, I was in the middle of tossing my head when I sensed something off behind me. I turned to look — Jiayī was sprawled on Ao Chi’s back, fast asleep. A strand of my long hair was pinned beneath his cheek.

His sleeping face was more serene than at any other time. I suddenly didn’t have the heart to pull my hair free, afraid of waking him. Looking back on the whole journey so far — Jiayī may have a terrible mouth, but fixing the car, changing tires, running errands and doing the rough work were all handled by him. Honestly speaking, at some level, my subconscious had involuntarily begun nudging him toward the “one of us” side.

Ao Chi was nowhere near as magnanimous as I was. On his first day back, beyond dealing with the Xiao Qing issue, he spent every remaining minute cross-examining Jiayī. I knew he harbored a profound dissatisfaction with all males who might score as handsome — especially ones near me. Jiayī’s attitude toward him was exactly what it was with me: ten questions might yield one answer at best. Finally he delivered his usual brand of contemptuous indifference, went to the back cabin, and went to sleep.

Having received the cold shoulder, Ao Chi told me ten times he was going to fire Jiayī — and then negated it himself each time, on the grounds that he hated changing tires.

With Ao Chi as a purely elemental means of transport, soaring through the clouds to South Africa was a matter of moments. But just as we were making our way toward Kruger Reserve, Xiao Qing — whom we had stuffed into a shoebox — said: could we make a stop in Johannesburg first? It wanted to see someone.

4

Spring Street ran along the north-south divide of Johannesburg, and the whole street could only be described with one word: chaotic. Loudly chattering men and women, vendors selling all manner of goods, gaudy neon lights flickering ceaselessly. In every restaurant and shop, young people working hard to make a living could be seen everywhere — this was typically where they chose to live.

Xiao Qing said it was looking for a girl called Yueliang. Three years ago, she had left her homeland to work in Johannesburg. Before she left, she gave it a home address, saying she would stay there until she had earned enough money to open a clothing shop.

But at that old building called “Lucky Apartments,” we did not find its Yueliang. A Black landlady with extravagant false lashes told us, without any warmth, that Yueliang had not come back for three months. Her rent was paid up through the previous month. She also said we’d come at a good time — she had been about to throw out Yueliang’s belongings and rent the room to someone else.

“Where did she go?” I asked.

“Who cares where she went!” The landlady shot me a look. “Do you want to come in and collect her things?”

We walked into a two-room apartment with dim lighting and a small footprint. The inner room belonged to Yueliang.

A single bed, a writing desk, a wardrobe with a mirror. Beyond that — books everywhere. On the shelves, on the floor, packed tightly, most of them related to fashion design. The walls were also covered in pins holding up posters from various fashion shows, along with pencil sketches, and one photograph: a young woman whose features perfectly blended the finest qualities of both Eastern and Western faces, both thumbs raised, grinning cheekily at the camera. Beneath long, brown hair, her wheat-golden skin glimmered like diamonds beneath a brilliant blue sky. Behind her, a vast and magnificent African savanna had gathered what seemed like the most sweeping colors on earth. Far in the distance, several wild elephants had just wandered into frame.

The photo was so beautiful it looked like a postcard.

“Nothing much of value here. Take your time.” The landlady stifled a yawn and turned to leave.

“Wait.” I stopped her. “Your tenant has been missing for three months. You didn’t report it to the police?”

She stopped and looked at me as though that was funny: “I only care about who pays the rent. Everyone here only has the ability to look after themselves.” She gave me another once-over and said: “This place isn’t for a well-dressed beauty like you who’s never known hardship.”

“Then tell me — what kind of person is this place for?” I disliked the way she spoke.

She lit a cigarette and pointed toward the window. “See those people out there?”

I looked. Beneath the flickering neon lights, several older women were desperately pushing their cigarettes on a suited man; a ragged drunk stumbled and fell at the curb, vomited everywhere, drawing curses from passersby. A vendor pushed a heavy cart with downcast eyes.

Wealth and poverty. Beauty and menace. This city had always maintained a clear dividing line.

“You mean this place is only for the poor?”

The landlady shrugged and exhaled a puff of smoke: “For those who wouldn’t matter even if they died.”

I frowned.

“The last time I saw that girl, she said someone had introduced her to a good job. She went to the interview — and never came back. That’s all.” With that, she swayed her formless figure away from our view.

Ao Chi shut the door with a thud, shook his head, took the shoebox from his pack, and set it on the dusty bed. The shell was sealed tight, still as a fossil.

Ao Chi knocked on it several times. “Hey! Are you listening? Your Yueliang has gone missing!”

After a long pause, the shell slowly opened. Xiao Qing’s ears drooped even lower than before. Its whole body went limp, as if its bones had been extracted, slumping inside the shell, staring blankly at its left paw.

When had it taken off its glove?

“Yueliang… she might be close to dying.” It slowly raised its head, watching the girl’s photograph on the wall, rubbing its paws with extreme agitation.

Both Ao Chi and I were startled.

Jiayī seemed not to have heard any of it, still wandering around the small room on his own — flipping through books, staring at the posters on the wall in thought, and opening the wardrobe to look inside.

“How do you know? What is Yueliang to you?” I asked.

“She… she is the same kind as me.” Xiao Qing’s eyes grew even darker. It sat helplessly in its shell, murmuring, “What should I do… what should I do…”

“These might come in useful.”

A desk calendar came flying from Jiayī’s hand. Ao Chi caught it and flipped it over. Nearly every single day had a brief notation: First — Work. Second — Part-time at Rich Restaurant. Third — Work. Write letter to Mother. Three months ago, there was only one entry — the last entry in the entire calendar: “Going to Walker Insurance Company for an interview. Mr. Benjamin is a kind man! Do my best!” Followed by a small smiley face.

“Benjamin…” Ao Chi squinted at the messy handwriting for a long time before piecing together the name.

“Benjamin?!” Xiao Qing in the eggshell shot back to full life as if charged with electricity, leaping up with a shout. “Are you sure it’s Benjamin?!”

Ao Chi looked at the calendar again and nodded.

Xiao Qing paced anxiously in circles inside its shell. A hesitation — the kind where you desperately want to throw yourself at something but can’t quite gather the final breath of resolve — coiled around it like a snake.

After a long moment, it reached its paw out from the shell, grabbed my finger, and seemed to gather enormous courage before finally speaking: “Please, help me! That red dot still hasn’t disappeared — Yueliang is still alive! You must find Benjamin! He is a sorcerer — a very wicked sorcerer!”

It extended its left palm for me to see. On the pink flesh, a circle of small red dots was arranged in a ring — about ten of them. Looking carefully, you realized these weren’t circles at all but distinct marks, each with its own shape: some resembling lions, some elephants, and some antelopes. Compared to the others, the antelope-shaped mark was considerably paler.

“What exactly are you?” My intuition had always been sharp, and this creature was absolutely not merely a maniac cat demon.

Xiao Qing bowed its head, and said in a voice thin as a mosquito: “I’m a… beast-person.”

5

God had perhaps reserved all the most beautiful starlight in the world for the summer nights of this savanna. But beneath that sky, there was no peace.

In the distance, a hungry lion lay crouched in the grass, moving soundlessly toward an unsuspecting zebra under cover of darkness. Further off, a great white rhinoceros walked slowly with its calf, pausing now and then to crop the tender grass underfoot. From a tall baobab tree came rustling sounds — a leopard was busy hoisting its freshly caught young antelope up into the fork of the branches. A pack of hyenas circled at no great distance, watching the tree with poorly concealed resentment.

The beauty of this land was as painstaking as its danger.

The white rhinoceros took several shots to the abdomen. Pain, terror, and fury propelled it and its calf into a desperate, headlong flight. But no hunter willingly releases prey that is nearly in hand — especially a white rhinoceros, whose numbers had already grown so scarce.

Sleeping birds were startled from their nests. Lions and zebras alike were sent scattering. Even the habitually fearless hyena family scattered in every direction. The stars disappeared too, as though no one was willing to extend a hand and steer the mother rhinoceros and her calf toward a better fate.

Then, a great burst of fireworks exploded in the sky. The boom and crack echoed through all of Kruger Reserve. The light of the fireworks set half the sky ablaze, illuminating the faces of the poachers — and drawing uniformed workers armed with equipment rushing to the scene.

The following morning, in a shallow, uneven depression, the dead mother rhinoceros lay motionless. Because the fireworks had exposed their position, the poachers hadn’t managed to saw off her horn. The rhinoceros calf, struck in its foreleg, knelt vacantly before its mother’s body, nudging its head against her from time to time.

The workers sighed and set to cleaning up the aftermath. Poachers, impossible to guard against completely, grew bolder year by year. But once, for roughly ten years, very few animals in the Reserve were killed. In fact, it was the poachers who frequently suffered casualties — after which no one dared extend a hunting rifle this far again. No one knew the reason; the relevant authorities even credited their own anti-poaching efforts.

Unfortunately, that peace lasted only until six years ago. After that, poaching resumed and grew increasingly brazen.

Someone joked that the only way to end poaching now was for all the species to go extinct ahead of schedule.

At that moment, very far from the tragic rhinoceros mother and calf, a young man and a young woman sat on the branches of a baobab tree. The golden morning light unique to the African savanna, carrying its warmth, filtered through the leaves and fell on their fine-featured faces.

Qing carefully applied the juice of a medicinal herb to Yueliang’s burned palm, scolding gently: “I warned you long ago — stop meddling in other people’s affairs! Fortunately the exploding fireworks only singed your hand! If you’d drawn the poachers here, what then?”

“I just couldn’t stand it anymore. Someone had to give them a fright!” Yueliang swung her legs, gazing at the great savanna below her feet. “Those people keep getting worse. Our neighbors are getting fewer and fewer.”

“And nothing can be done about that.” Qing set down her hand. “We only have the ability to take care of ourselves.”

Yueliang turned to face him, watching his pale amber eyes: “Even if they’re all hunted to death, we should still do nothing?”

Qing sighed and quietly took Yueliang’s hand. “Our strength is too small.”

“But Uncle Tian Kong didn’t say it that way, back then…” Yueliang blurted out.

Qing faltered. His eyes grew dim. “Yueliang, I am his son. But I am not him. Do you understand?”

“Oh.” Yueliang lowered her head, and after a long silence, raised it again with a smile. “Next week, Kael and the others are setting off for the Thornbush Labyrinth. You’ve finally agreed to join them this year. I’m so glad!”

Qing smiled faintly. He jumped down from the tree — and in the instant he landed, the handsome silver-haired youth was gone. Standing beneath the tree was a small creature not quite half a foot tall, feline but not quite a cat.

He spread his paw, tilted his face up toward Yueliang, and said: “Look at me. Even my true form is only this. Any random elephant could crush me; any random lion could swallow me whole!”

“But at least you’re willing to try.” Yueliang jumped down too, becoming a gentle little antelope, and lightly pressed her forehead against his. “I think you are the one who can find the War God’s Staff. Just like Uncle Tian Kong did all those years ago. No matter what anyone else thinks — Mother and I both believe in you!”

Qing was silent for a moment, then stepped back and shifted into human form once more. “Talk about yourself. Your mother told me you’re planning to leave the valley?”

“Xingguang left too, didn’t he? He wrote back to say he’s learning to cook at a restaurant in Johannesburg — says it’s a good life!” Yueliang did a little spin and became that beautiful young woman again, taking his arm as they walked, talking as they went. “I don’t want to stay in the same place forever. All these years, Xiling Valley has always looked exactly the same. You know, just to buy a book or mail a letter, we have to walk so far. I’ve been thinking — if our young people could get a foothold out there, maybe we could bring everyone from the valley out eventually! The outside world is so good — there are telephones and cars and big houses.” She paused, then added: “At the very least, there are no gunshots that ring out at any moment.”

“What would you do out there?” Qing watched her bright, vibrant profile.

“Xingguang already asked a contact there to find me a room, and lined up a restaurant where I can work. Though this guy — he said he’d come back this week to take me over there, but there’s been no sign of him.” Yueliang pouted, then tilted her face up with an expression full of anticipation. “Xingguang says the wages in that city are the highest! If I work for a few years, I might have enough to open a little clothing shop, selling clothes I design myself. And then, once I’ve earned more money, I’ll buy a big house—”

What a beautiful future. Qing was smiling just listening to it. But whether the outside world truly had no hunting rifles and no killing — he wasn’t quite sure.

As they walked, Yueliang suddenly stopped, jumped in front of Qing, and tapped his forehead: “Work hard next week!”

“All right.” He nodded, with some effort.

Yueliang smiled contentedly. “The address in Johannesburg — Lucky Apartments — you’ve got it memorized? I won’t be moving until I’ve bought a big house. Come visit if you get the chance! And if I have time, I’ll come back to see all of you.”

Qing patted her head. “Don’t worry. I’ve memorized all of it.”

The sun climbed higher. Heat waves rolled all around. But there was someone whose heart, no matter what, could not grow warm…

6

Qing ran away.

He didn’t take a single step onto the path leading to the Thornbush Labyrinth.

The legendary War God’s Staff, hidden deep in the labyrinth, said to bestow limitless power upon whoever found it — it was nothing but a dream. No, not even something he dared dream about.

He was afraid. Thorns that would pierce his body. The lightless labyrinth. Ferocious beasts and poisonous snakes. Everything terrified him.

As one of the few remaining beast-people in existence, Qing felt himself getting worse with each passing day.

Come to think of it, beast-people were perhaps the most misleadingly named demons in the universe. The title sounded impressive, but beyond the ability to shift freely between animal and human form, they had no other abilities whatsoever. Every means and object capable of killing a human was equally effective against them. The world was a vast place, and not every demon was omnipotent.

What’s more, even a beast-person who lived out a perfectly healthy life had only thirty years.

Xiling Valley was hidden in the most secluded corner of the foothills at the edge of Kruger Reserve. Lush trees and fresh-grown grass embraced river water that never ran dry through all four seasons. The small mountain on the west bank of the river, shaped like a camel, always caught the sunlight and sparkled with glints of gold. After rain, a rainbow often hung across its peak — a sight of extraordinary beauty.

From as far back as Qing could remember, the beast-people of the valley had decreased from over thirty to just over twenty, and would of course continue to decrease. Some died of illness. Some died of old age. And some met violent ends.

Qing had no idea how many of his kind existed in the world beyond his homeland — just as he had never been able to understand the purpose of his own existence.

Look at him: from birth until now, always that dull gray coat, smaller than a little cat. Even as he grew older and could transform into the appearance of a young man, he could never change his fundamentally weak nature. His true form had never once changed — a tiny, insignificant “little cat.”

Racing, tree-climbing, arm wrestling — he was never a match for Kael. Kael’s true form was a sturdy young elephant. Kael’s catchphrase was that he wanted to become a hero like Uncle Tian Kong — to find the War God’s Staff hidden in the Thornbush Labyrinth and receive infinite power.

From who knew how many generations of beast-people ancestors came this legend: in the deepest part of the thornbush labyrinth to the east of the valley, there was a War God’s Staff of boundless divine power. Anyone who could reach it in person would be granted limitless strength. The so-called thornbush labyrinth was an enormous thornbush forest where no sunlight penetrated; it earned the name “labyrinth” because the terrain within was too complex and tangled to navigate. Not only was the path through it treacherous, it also harbored venomous snakes and ferocious beasts. Many beast-people who went seeking the Staff by reputation mostly returned in failure, some gravely injured. According to the rule established by their ancestors, every beast-person had only one opportunity in their lifetime to attempt the Thornbush Labyrinth.

Over many years, only Qing’s father had ever reached the Staff.

And he had indeed become the hero in everyone’s hearts. While he lived, not a single poacher ever escaped his claws and fangs. The wild elephants and rhinoceroses, leopards and lions he saved — too many to count.

During that time, a warning spread among the poachers: “Don’t go to Kruger! There’s a powerful monster there!”

Qing still remembered how his father loved to bring him along and lie beneath a baobab tree, sometimes sunbathing, sometimes moonbathing. When he saw a young elephant tumble into a mud pit in the elephant herd, or watched a clumsy rhinoceros family go thundering past, he would laugh until he couldn’t stop. Back then, this world still felt interesting and beautiful to him.

But his father’s eyes never once relaxed their vigilance.

“Why do you work so hard to guard this place? Isn’t our home in the valley? These animals aren’t even our kind — why do we protect them?” Young Qing, impatient, flicked his tail to drive away the mosquitoes buzzing around him.

“They are our neighbors,” his father said, patting his head.

Qing looked at his father uncomprehendingly. “But the hunters aren’t aiming their guns at us.”

“Foolish child.” His father’s pale amber eyes grew deep and still. “When every last neighbor on your left and right has been killed — how much longer can you yourself stay safe?”

Qing thought about it, half understanding.

“Our home isn’t just one small valley. Calling them ‘neighbors’ is even a little imprecise — we are a part of this place.” His father smiled. “You’ll only understand what your father is thinking once you’re older.”

Qing blinked and swatted a mosquito dead with his tail.

But even now, he still couldn’t understand his father. Or more precisely — he didn’t want to.

He couldn’t understand why his father, by the time he was covered in wounds and coughing every time he took a drink of water, still insisted on his daily patrol outside the valley. A beast-person of twenty-six was already very old; now he couldn’t even climb a tree.

If he had been willing to ease up on that habit, even for just one day — perhaps the bullet from a poacher’s gun would never have passed through his heart.

That year, Qing was only eight. When it happened, he was not far from his father.

He still remembered that powerfully built man standing in the open jeep, a cigar in his mouth, over a dozen subordinates surrounding him, every one holding large-caliber firearms impossible for ordinary people to obtain.

“Ha! Got it!” The man laughed. “Bring that thing over to me. I’ve been needing a good leather floor mat.” He gave the driver’s shoulder a hearty slap and praised him: “You really are the best guide around here. How about you just become my permanent driver? Your name is Benjamin, right?”

“That’s right, Mr. Briman. Thank you for the kind offer. Working as a tour guide here is just a side job — what I love most is being an insurance broker.” The young European man in the driver’s seat was handsome with a youthful freshness, looking more like a college freshman than anything else.

“So I should buy some insurance from you?” Briman took a draw from his cigar.

“You’re sure to find it interesting to become my client.” Benjamin smiled. “My insurance can help clients escape Death’s aim once.”

Briman regarded him with amusement. “Interesting. Come find me and we’ll talk.” He looked with smug contempt at the “prey” convulsing in a pool of blood ahead and declared loudly: “Haven’t felt this satisfied in a long time. Spend enough money, and even a protected reserve is my private hunting ground.”

“Only this one day, Mr. Briman,” Benjamin reminded him.

“Ten million dollars for one day of free hunting — not expensive.” Briman exhaled a smoke ring, the enormous gemstone on his ring finger refracting blinding sunlight. “In this world, money is always the greatest power. Ha ha.”

So they weren’t poachers at all. Just a group of people who bought their entertainment with money.

Qing, his mind gone completely blank, lay flat in the grass, trembling, watching through tangled gaps at the men on the vehicle chatting and laughing. Two of the man’s subordinates were cautiously approaching his gravely wounded father.

He couldn’t just let them take his father away like this.

Qing’s claws had already snapped the grass roots. Before their hands could reach his father, he shot out and bit down with everything he had.

One of the subordinates cried out in pain and shook his hand. Qing was sent flying a considerable distance. The man looked at his palm — just a few bleeding tooth marks. Not serious.

“Oh, there’s a small one too?!” Briman quickly raised his gun, aiming at where Qing had landed.

Two shots in succession — the bullets skimmed past Qing’s scalp. But that familiar figure launched itself from the ground, slashed open the throat of the foremost subordinate with one claw, then pounced to Qing’s side, bit down on the back of his neck, and vanished into the grass without a trace.

“Damn it! That thing wasn’t dead?!” Briman stamped his foot furiously. “After them!”

Benjamin didn’t press the accelerator. He watched the direction the father and son had disappeared, and a smile too faint to notice appeared at the corner of his mouth.

Qing was frightened senseless. Every member of Xiling Valley was frightened senseless.

Their hero, bearing a body riddled with bullet wounds, spent his last strength to carry his son back to the valley.

Qing stared at his own blood-soaked palm, and looked blankly at his father.

“Qing — this place I leave to you,” his father said, taking his left hand. Those were his final words.

Qing burst into loud, broken crying — whether it was more grief or more terror, he couldn’t have said.

He was not capable of accepting such a heavy charge. He didn’t dare charge into the Thornbush Labyrinth as his father had done, to receive the power the War God’s Staff bestowed. He didn’t dare respond in any way to the dangers facing his neighbors. He didn’t dare fight back against enemies aiming guns at him. He didn’t even dare race Kael anymore — he was so weak that “not daring” was perfectly natural.

Today, at last, he was going to leave. Completely, finally escape.

He couldn’t bear the gazes in the valley any longer — those looks that held both expectation and doubt. He couldn’t bear Kael’s challenges. And even more unbearably, he couldn’t bear Yueliang’s mother bringing delicious food every day, urging him to eat more so he could grow as strong as his father.

He couldn’t grow strong! Inside his body was a barrier that could not be broken through, keeping him living forever like a little cat.

Of the younger generation in the valley, only he, Yueliang, Kael, and Xingguang remained. He was closest with Yueliang — she was gentle and lively, her true form a small antelope. Kael was an elephant. Xingguang was a black rhinoceros. Now, the young beast-people were no longer satisfied with the tiny world of the valley. They had new ambitions, hoping to use their brief lives in a bigger world.

Xingguang was the oldest and the first to leave. He had been in Johannesburg for two years and only returned once, saying the outside world was wonderfully, magnificently good. Qing hadn’t had word from him in a long time, and the one who had promised to come back and take Yueliang away had never shown his face.

Soon, Yueliang would leave too — for the beautiful future she had constructed for herself.

They were each, in their own way, leaving this homeland that in their eyes held nothing but wild beasts and savanna, hunting and flight.

Kael refused to leave, because he hadn’t yet let go of that “War God’s Staff.” He was determined to stand before it at least once before he died.

Qing packed no luggage. He told no one — including Yueliang.

Before dawn broke, he quietly slipped out of Xiling Valley.

On his left paw, he put on a glove. Because he didn’t want to look at the ring of twenty small red dots on his palm. If you looked carefully, you’d see these small red dots were actually marks with distinct shapes: elephants, rabbits, lions, antelopes.

These red dots had appeared on Qing’s palm on the day his father died.

Long ago, he had seen them on his father’s left palm too. His father said these marks had appeared after he entered the Thornbush Labyrinth and stood before the legendary War God’s Staff — the marks left on his palm from the moment the Staff rested in his hand. The Staff had spoken to him, telling him: these were the War God’s marks. With them, one could come to understand immense power.

It had to be a lie. A row of little red dots — how could they bring anyone immense power? At least, they had done nothing for Qing. Six years had passed since his father died, yet his true form showed no change whatsoever — still that same weak, dusty, pitiful little creature.

These deceptive “War God’s marks” — the only use he had ever discovered for them was this: whenever someone in the valley was close to dying, whether from illness or some other danger, one of the red dots would grow pale. Once that person died completely, the dot would vanish. By today, only twenty remained.

He could not stop the increasingly brazen poaching. He could not protect the safety of their neighbors. And even less could he stop the deaths of his own kind.

Leaving, perhaps, was the best option. Hiding away forever, needing to look after no one, and needing no one to look after him.

“Hey — beast-person!”

Suddenly, from behind him, someone called out.

7

Of course he still remembered this man called Benjamin. Six years had passed, and he had managed to do a few things — such as investigating Briman’s and Benjamin’s backgrounds, learning that one was the wealthiest of the wealthy and the other had worked several years as a part-time tour guide at the Reserve before resigning. But that was all that was within his reach. He knew clearly that he couldn’t withstand even one of Benjamin’s punches, let alone go up against Briman, protected by countless bodyguards. His father’s death, branded into his heart — beyond causing him pain, what else could it do?!

“Leaving?” Benjamin stood with his hands behind his back, looking down at him — still in his animal form. He had grown even taller since six years ago, and standing before Qing, he seemed like a giant.

“Get out of the way.” Qing quietly clenched his fist.

“At least say goodbye to your friend before you go.” Benjamin smiled. His snow-white teeth flashed cold in the darkness. One hand came out from behind his back, holding a black cloth pouch. He gave it a casual shake — and out of that small pouch rolled a large, powerful black rhinoceros. When it hit the ground, the entire stretch of grass shuddered.

It was no longer breathing. On its massive head was a terrifying bullet hole, surrounded by dried blood.

Qing went rigid. This rhinoceros — was Xingguang.

“My family has made sport of hunting beast-people for generations, and earns its livelihood doing so. I prefer to call myself a hunter, though most people call us sorcerers.” Benjamin gave a gentle flourish, and the pouch became a black handkerchief. “I’ve traveled to many places where wild animals congregate. It was only in Kruger that I found traces of beast-people — unfortunately I couldn’t locate your nest. But that didn’t matter. I’ve always enjoyed waiting for prey to come to me. I knew some beast-person would eventually overestimate themselves and walk out. Like this foolish rhinoceros. He turned himself into a heavyset fellow, shouldered a pack, and walked out through the Reserve’s exit. I followed him to Johannesburg and posed as an out-of-town student, becoming his ‘friend’ for nearly two years. If Briman hadn’t run into trouble, I would have let him live a while longer. After all, the food he cooked was very good.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Qing’s voice was trembling. “Why did you kill Xingguang?”

“Beast-people are the world’s most perfect ‘life-vessel,'” Benjamin said. “Your dual nature — both human and animal — makes you the optimal replacement system. There are far too many people in this world who fear death. For the right price, I can ‘store’ their lives inside a young beast-person who hasn’t yet reached eighteen. Once the client suffers a fatal injury — a bullet through the brain, a terminal illness — the life-vessel activates immediately and bears the final death in the client’s place at the moment of their death. The client themselves then continues to live on with a brand new life.” He smiled, watching Qing. “I imagine even you beast-people yourselves never knew about this ‘use’ of yours. But never mind — I’ve told you now. And as an insurance broker, what I sell is precisely this kind of insurance.”

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a newspaper, and tossed it in front of Qing.

In large headline type: “MIRACLE! Tycoon Briman Survives Assassination — Bullet Passes Through Skull, Walks Away Unharmed!”

“At first, Briman didn’t believe I had this ability — thought spending so much money on a life-vessel was absurd. But he had recently provoked a criminal organization, and they put the word out that they would take his life. He hired endless bodyguards and still felt unsafe, so he came to me, hoping I could keep him protected. The price he offered was satisfactory to me. So I knocked on Xingguang’s door.”

Qing stared for a long moment before stammering: “You… you’re saying that you used Xingguang to die in Briman’s place?”

“Correct.” Benjamin gave a soft clap. “Rest assured though — I don’t take on business casually. Storing a life takes one to two years of recovery afterward. So you needn’t be afraid — I’m not here to catch you today.”

Qing drew a long breath. “Then why are you here?”

“No particular purpose.” Benjamin shrugged. “Simply to help you understand that whether it’s your father — who thought himself the guardian deity of this land — or you, his son, you are both the weakest things in this world. You’ve never known what true power actually is.”

Power. That word had always been the knife lodged in Qing’s heart.

“A powerful body, great wealth, practiced sorcery — these are the sources of power.” Benjamin crouched down, lightly tapping Qing’s head with one finger. “And you have none of these. A worthless little coward.”

Qing dodged his hand and instinctively stepped back several paces.

“Yes — exactly like that. When something happens, you can only step backward.”

Benjamin’s mocking laughter pressed down from above Qing’s head, sending a sharp pain stabbing through his skull.

He clapped his hands over his ears and screamed: “What exactly do you want?!”

Benjamin stood, wearing a feigned-innocent smile on his wicked, beautiful face: “Briman enjoys watching his prey bleed and die — maybe many hunters are like that. I’m a hunter too, but what I enjoy most is watching my prey… be afraid. The more afraid you are, the greater my satisfaction. This rhinoceros, while I kept him in a cage, was afraid every single day. Oh, right — he also drew me a map to enter Xiling Valley, begging me to release him.”

His matter-of-fact description nearly stopped Qing’s breathing.

“Well then — safe travels. Best find somewhere far enough to hide. In a few years, if I still haven’t found a suitable life-vessel, I’ll definitely come looking for you. And I’ll definitely find you.” Benjamin waved at him. “Goodbye. I hope you sleep well every night until then.”

He flicked his hand. Xingguang’s massive body instantly turned to a heap of ash.

Uncontrollable terror, riding on the image of Benjamin casually walking away, surged in from all directions in a torrent.

Qing had once heard a saying: death is not frightening — what is frightening is waiting for death to arrive.

The horizon had just begun to brighten faintly. Across the vast savanna, Qing ran as if his life depended on it. Perhaps if he ran fast enough and far enough, the deaths of his father and Xingguang, the sorcerer’s death sentence upon him, and the safety of his kinspeople back in the valley — all of it would be left far behind.

In his churning thoughts, only one idea kept bouncing: Thank goodness he wasn’t targeting me. Thank goodness I’m still alive.

Hadn’t this been his way of thinking all along? As long as the gun barrel wasn’t pointed at himself, there was reason to feel fortunate.

A worthless little coward. Benjamin wasn’t wrong. His timidity and weakness meant he was only ever going to run.

He ran out of the savanna, ran out of this equatorial nation. He had no direction — only the instinct to follow the direction the sun rose. The climate grew colder and cooler around him; there were more and more yellow-skinned people. Exhausted beyond his limits, he collapsed at the entrance of a small sundry shop. The old man inside the shop — round-spectacled, dressed in a Mandarin jacket — saved him. The old man fed him a sour preserved plum that not only swept away his hunger but instantly allowed him to understand the Chinese the old man spoke.

The old man patted his fuzzy head and said: “I can tell you’re a demon. A demon in such a sorry state — that’s something of a rarity.”

Nearly at his breaking point, he recounted his story in fits and starts, telling the old man the broad outline.

When he’d finished, the old man shook his head, went to a cabinet in the corner, and produced an ostrich eggshell, which he gave him. He said: “If you’re afraid, crawl inside. No one will find you there. And this eggshell can take you anywhere you wish to go. Inside it, you’ll never hunger or tire — it’s perfectly suited for you.”

The old man hadn’t deceived him. This extraordinary eggshell truly could “protect” him. From that point on, the eggshell became his “home.” He hid inside it every day and drifted from place to place. The safety that small world provided was something he grew addicted to. He thought — no one would ever find him again. Even that sorcerer Benjamin would never imagine he’d hidden inside an eggshell. How perfect!

But as the time spent inside the eggshell grew longer and longer, Qing discovered that he had lost even the ability to take on human form. Like a ridiculous hermit crab dragging its shell, he drifted about everywhere, seeking one “safe” foothold after another — ducking inside the eggshell at the slightest sound, flying away at speed. And later, he simply stopped leaving the eggshell altogether. Twenty-four hours a day, sleeping inside.

One day, he flew across a mist-shrouded sea and landed on a mountain rising from the water. This uninhabited place, home only to rare birds and beasts, became the spot where he stayed longest. He hid inside a bird’s nest, disguising himself as a fox-bird’s egg, and contentedly enjoyed the fox-bird’s protection. The none-too-clever fox-bird naturally had no way of noticing anything amiss — at most it would feel puzzled about why this particular egg never seemed to hatch a chick.

He felt safe. Maybe it would be best to just stay here and live out his days this way…

8

“You enjoy living in that eggshell so much?” I lifted the shoebox from my feet. Xiao Qing was still curled inside its shell, utterly still. I knocked on the shell. “You’re not even going to go see your own kind?”

The shell cracked open a sliver. Xiao Qing stuck out half its head and asked quietly: “How is Yueliang?”

“Go see for yourself!” I flipped the shell open and pinched it between two fingers, lifting it into the air.

“No! Don’t let her know I’m here!” Dangling in midair, Xiao Qing kicked frantically. “What face do I have to see her?! I said I would go find the War God’s Staff — but I ran away instead… I’m a contemptible coward! Please, don’t tell her I’m here!”

“You don’t dare face your best friend. You don’t dare take responsibility for protecting your homeland. But you had the nerve to fixate on following someone you thought was powerful enough, begging him to go and protect your home for you.” I dropped Xiao Qing back into the shoebox. “You are not as weak as you imagine.”

Xiao Qing made a whoosh and dove back inside its shell, shaking its head emphatically: “That’s not right! Open your eyes and look at me — look at my pathetic past and present — and you’ll know just how easily I can be defeated. I don’t have Briman’s wealth and influence. I don’t have Benjamin’s sorcery. I definitely don’t have the powerful strength you and Ao Chi possess. I can’t even fly on my own — I need a ridiculous eggshell someone else gave me!”

The shell snapped shut again with a heavy thud.

Ao Chi frowned and eased off the accelerator.

I scratched my head. Ao Chi really had brought back a massive headache.

My right hand — the one that had knocked against its head — still ached a little. The bruises would probably take days to fade.

Ao Chi noticed the small motion of me rubbing my hand and immediately warned: “I’m saying it again — leave any physical confrontations to me in the future. Pregnant women are strictly forbidden from hitting people!” Then he glanced at me sideways, clicked his tongue twice, and said: “Though that said — I haven’t seen you deck someone in years.”

I shot him a look and said nothing.

The injury on my hand was from when I punched Benjamin.

After I summoned the Worm People and located Walker Insurance Company — just one street away from Lucky Apartments — the sorcerer had been quietly waiting in his basement, sitting before the cage holding Yueliang.

To Xiao Qing, Benjamin was a creature of demonic terror. But to Benjamin, Ao Chi and Jiayī and I were demons among demons.

A young sorcerer who knew only the art of life-storage — his power was laughably weak compared to Ao Chi’s and mine.

Life-storing — this selfish and harmful sorcery — had existed since ancient times. People who feared death would hire a sorcerer to “store” their life within another living being. The sorcerer would then imprison the life-vessel and control its movements, ensuring it remained alive until the client’s death. This act of forcing another being to wait to die in your place was despicably cruel, condemned as dark arts long ago — and yet this foreigner had made it his livelihood: not only causing the deaths of innocent beings, but also using a twisted psychology to terrorize creatures like Xiao Qing. Truly contemptible.

Jiayī needed only one talisman paper to sever the curse Benjamin had placed on Yueliang — which also meant that the person whose life had been stored inside her would lose their “insurance” of a second life.

As we carried the unconscious Yueliang away, Benjamin — knocked to the ground by Ao Chi — gave a cold laugh and said: “So the little coward brought hired help? Heh. I can smell its stench.”

Xiao Qing, hiding in Ao Chi’s backpack, did not dare breathe a single breath.

Remarkable that this man hadn’t been scared half to death by Ao Chi’s power. I paused and said: “I’m a businessperson too. But I don’t sell insurance.”

“Five hundred million dollars.” Benjamin named a staggering sum. “The life of a beast-person is worth that much. Would you care to consider it?”

“Life is something that can’t be given a price tag.” I looked at this adequately handsome man and disliked him more with every passing second.

“Do you know whose life was stored inside her?!” Benjamin called out from behind me. “Briman’s only son — dying of a terminal illness! His life is worth more than diamonds and gold! Beast-people are no different from the vagrants on the street — even if they die, no one will know. And no one will remember!”

“This place is for those who wouldn’t matter even if they died” — the landlady’s words. I suddenly understood.

I stopped, turned back, walked up to Benjamin sitting on the floor, gave him a brilliant smile — and then drew back my fist and hit him across his self-satisfied face with every bit of strength I had.

“Their parents remember.” I released my aching fist and let out a long breath. “Every parent’s child is equally precious.”

To scorn and even harm the lives of the weak has never been how truly strong people demonstrate their power. And this was also why Benjamin survived Ao Chi’s arrival: if he had wanted, he could have made this little sorcerer die without a grave the moment he walked in. But Ao Chi had never condescended to kill someone weaker than himself.

This principle, Benjamin clearly did not understand.

The sun had risen high. Kruger Reserve lay just ahead.

“Does your hand still hurt?” Ao Chi focused on the steering wheel, then muttered to himself: “Should I just finish off that little sorcerer? Leave him alive and more beast-people will end up suffering for it.”

I flexed my fingers, watching the magnificent savanna stretching into the distance beside us. “Even if someone should finish him off — it shouldn’t be you.”

I looked down at the shoebox at my feet.

9

Although three years had passed since leaving home, Xiao Qing still remembered the way back.

It led us through seven turns and eight bends — past a stretch of jagged rocky ground, around a dried riverbed, through a hidden underground tunnel, walking for a very long time — until a lush, beautiful valley rich with flowers and grass spread out before our eyes. The beauty of Xiling Valley was exactly as it had described — no exaggeration at all.

But at the valley entrance, it asked us to stop, and begged Jiayī to remove the talisman paper from the eggshell.

“Going to run again?” I gave it a cold look.

“Please, carry Yueliang back for me.” Xiao Qing stayed curled inside its shell without coming out. “Thank you for being willing to come here.”

“We have no plans to go in.” I set the cowardly ostrich egg down on the ground. “Your Yueliang is right here. Either wait for her to starve, or go back and find someone to help.”

The shell flew open. Xiao Qing’s eyes went wide. “What did you say?”

Seizing the moment, I shot out my fingers in a flash, pinched the little creature up by the scruff, swung my left hand — and a wave of force shot from my palm, smashing the eggshell to powder.

“My… my…” Xiao Qing grabbed its own head, shrieking incoherently.

“Your what? Your home? Your shell?” I tossed it onto the grass.

Xiao Qing picked up the pieces from the ground with a dazed expression, lips moving: “I… this… this is my home!”

“Home doesn’t shatter that easily.” I looked ahead. Several figures — men and women — were peering cautiously in our direction, and beside them, an elephant. “Your home is over there.”

Yueliang’s mother, Xingguang’s father, and Kael came running urgently toward us.

There was no blame whatsoever. The only thing the people of the valley did was go to meet the child coming home.

Yueliang woke at sunset, in her mother’s arms. Her first words were: “I think I saw Qing!”

“I’m right here.” Xiao Qing sidled out awkwardly from behind Ao Chi and walked over to Yueliang. “Are you all right?”

“Did you save me?” Yueliang looked at it, eyes shimmering with tears.

“No, no.” It waved its paws hurriedly, pointing to the three of us. “They rescued you from Benjamin. I didn’t have the power to defeat a sorcerer.”

I really wanted to kick its backside.

“I always believed you would come to see me.” Yueliang’s body, in the starlight, shifted into the form of a young woman. She sat up and cradled Xiao Qing in her palm. “When Benjamin caught me, I kept calling Uncle Tian Kong’s name. You see — he brought you back to me.”

Xiao Qing pressed its lips tightly shut, unable to say a word.

At that moment, a middle-aged man with a great beard hobbled out on a walking stick and asked us urgently: “What about Xingguang? Did you see him? He hasn’t come home all this time. I’ve looked everywhere and can’t find him. This child…”

“Xingguang opened a restaurant in the Middle East. Business is too good — he said he’ll come back to see you as soon as things slow down.” My lie came out without missing a beat.

“Really? You’ve seen him? Are you Qing’s friends?” The man’s eyes lit up. He turned to Xiao Qing. “Is it true?”

Xiao Qing nodded: “Yes. Xingguang is doing very well. My friends all say his cooking is wonderful. He even asked me to bring you back some good food — but I lost it on the way.”

The man let out a breath of relief, wiped his eyes, and laughed and scolded: “That little rascal… as long as he’s fine. Whether he comes home or not — that doesn’t really matter.”

If beast-people lived only thirty years, then let this lie accompany this man for the rest of his life. Why destroy something so simply happy.

Sturdy Kael came out carrying a string of wild fruit, tossed it to Xiao Qing: “Your favorite.”

“Kael…” Xiao Qing held the fruit awkwardly. “I…”

“You what — I didn’t find the War God’s Staff,” Kael said briskly. “But maybe you can manage it. The gaps between the thorns are too narrow for me, but your size might be exactly right. What are you standing there for? Eat up! If you don’t eat, I will!”

Not a single word about Xiao Qing’s past desertion.

“Kael, I’m sorry—” The words weren’t even out of its mouth before a fistful of fruit was shoved in.

“Eat, eat! What’s there to calculate between family? ‘I’m sorry’ — sorry for what?!” Kael gave Xiao Qing a shove. His strength was too much — Xiao Qing went rolling several times across the ground.

Everyone present burst into laughter — genuine, happy laughter.

Even Xiao Qing itself, rubbing its head, managed a goofy smile.

10

“Not so bad after all, is it? A lot more comfortable than the inside of an eggshell.” I sat on a tall baobab tree at the valley entrance, my own personal teacup in hand, swinging my legs. The nightscape of the African savanna was unlike any other — the stars in the sky were not many, but already enough to move the heart. Even knowing that somewhere close or far away, a lion might be stalking an antelope, or hyenas fighting over food — none of that felt like a disruption. Except for the sound of human gunfire, everything on this land was in harmony.

Xiao Qing sat in the fork of the tree beside me. Its perpetually drooping ears had risen just slightly. It stared unblinkingly at the world it had fled three years ago, and from time to time quietly rubbed its eyes.

“Ao Chi said he’s a dragon in the Eastern Sea, and that you’re a very, very old demon,” it suddenly said. “He also said you like to make people drink a very bitter tea.”

“I hate how he insists on adding unnecessary adjectives in front of the word ‘demon’.” I pursed my lips and took a sip of tea.

“He also said that after drinking the tea, you come to understand certain things.” It stared at my teacup. A pool of vivid green tea shimmered and sparkled in the night, perfectly cool and clear.

“I absolutely forbid anyone from drinking from my cup!” I hurriedly moved it aside. “Don’t even think about putting your mouth near it!”

Xiao Qing extended a paw: “Pour some here instead. Just a tiny bit is enough.”

“All right. For someone who knows how to drink tea, a tiny bit is enough.” I lifted the teacup and let a few drops fall into its palm.

It sniffed, then extended the tip of its tongue for a tentative lick. Its little face immediately became very conflicted: “So bitter!”

“And after the bitter?” I asked.

It smacked its lips. Its expression relaxed. “Sweet!”

“You always have to go through the bitterness before you can taste the true sweetness.” I took a sip too. “Many people don’t like my tea because the moment they taste the bitterness, they spit it right back out. This is like the many people who believe themselves to be weak — before they’ve ever experienced their true strength, they’ve already given up on themselves.”

Xiao Qing turned its head and stared at me. “How does one find true strength?”

“How would I know? That’s something you’ll have to work out for yourself.” I gave it a look. “A once-in-a-lifetime chance — don’t waste it.”

With that, I jumped down from the tree. If Ao Chi caught me climbing trees, he’d lecture me for a solid hour.

Back in the valley, everyone old and young had fallen asleep. There were no houses here — all the beast-people were accustomed to living under the open sky. Some slept on rocks, some lay on the ground, some curled beneath trees, with the moonlight and stars looking after their dreams.

The beast-people had told me: their names came from the very first thing their mother’s eyes fell upon in the moment they were born. When Xiao Qing’s mother gave birth to it, the first thing she saw was a vast, vivid green savanna. She said that though she saw the savanna every day, only in that moment did its color feel so alive, so magnificent. Sadly, she was with Xiao Qing for only two years before she passed away from illness.

I moved as lightly as I could, afraid of waking these demons who seemed nothing like demons.

When I finally lay down beside Ao Chi, who was stretched out asleep in a pile of dry grass, I discovered he hadn’t actually fallen asleep.

“These creatures really do need someone to look after them,” he said, laying his arm lightly across me. “I hope your tea session went well. Goodnight.”

I blinked in slight surprise, smiled, and patted his hand. “Goodnight.”

All around, silence. Ao Chi’s snoring rose and fell. Jiayī had disappeared somewhere — by now I had long grown accustomed to this employee’s habit of appearing and vanishing, and felt absolutely no worry that he might get eaten by a lion.

Unable to fall asleep for a moment, I reached for the drawstring pouch with the stones inside, took out the Peach Spring Cage with the character “Go” written on it, and held it up in the moonlight. To my surprise, the inscription on it had faded.

A sign! The fifth piece of blue amber was nearby?!

11

Xiao Qing had vanished again.

And so had I.

Because I had gone to follow it.

As I expected, it set out on the path to the Thornbush Labyrinth before the sky had even fully brightened.

For me, this path was no great difficulty. But for this weak little beast-person, the crisscrossing thorns were a constant threat of injury to its body, and venomous snakes that kept materializing sent it scrambling and dodging in every direction.

Hidden from sight, I kept holding myself back from stepping in to help. Every road is walked by the person walking it.

After Xiao Qing used a stone to drive off one enormous strange insect, it lost its footing on a slope, rolled down, and tumbled onto a perfectly straight path of white pebbles.

Based on my experience reading martial arts novels, I had a feeling something good was about to happen.

At the end of the path stood an ordinary baobab tree of the kind seen everywhere on the savanna. In the soil at its base leaned a brown wooden stick about three feet tall, crooked and lopsided. A small bird had just left its mark on the stick, then spread its wings and flew away.

Xiao Qing stared blankly at this stick. I stared blankly at this stick too. Something was wrong — the War God’s Staff: what a thrilling name. Surely it should at minimum be enshrined in some decent-looking altar?

“Someone finally came again… The female demon behind — stop hiding, come out, come out.” The stick spoke!

Xiao Qing was startled twice — once by the talking stick, once by me emerging from behind it.

“Are you… the War God’s Staff my father spoke of? The one that can bestow supreme power upon us?” Xiao Qing asked timidly.

“Your father?” The stick thought for a moment. “Oh — the one who found me twenty years ago. What was his name… Tian Kong, wasn’t it?”

Xiao Qing nodded eagerly.

“That one wasn’t bad. I’ve been here for goodness knows how many thousands of years — very few beast-people have ever found me.” The stick clicked its tongue.

“So you bestowed tremendous power upon my father, didn’t you?” Xiao Qing said excitedly, then thud — dropped to its knees before the stick. “Then please also bestow power upon me!”

The stick gave several coughs and said: “I gave your father the power long ago. When he died, the power would have passed to you.”

Xiao Qing was bewildered: “But that never happened! I have always been exactly the same — my father didn’t pass on any power to me.”

“Nonsense! Look at your own left palm — those red dots are the power I gave to you all.” The stick sounded somewhat annoyed. “Think carefully on it. Your father understood immediately.”

“You…” I looked at this peculiar stick. “Why can you see me?”

“What a question! I was once an immortal myself!” The stick paused to catch its breath, then continued: “Though I’ve completely forgotten what I was actually doing as an immortal.”

“You’re an immortal?” I studied it. “How did you end up here?”

“I vaguely remember — in those years, I was cowardly and timid, causing harm to quite a few innocents. Afterward, someone locked me inside a piece of blue stone. When I came to, I was already here, with nothing beside me but a small pile of jade-like fragments. I found this place quiet and comfortable, tidied things up, and settled in for a long stay. No idea how much time passed before some human-animal hybrids discovered me. They were quite awed by my ability to repel wild beasts and venomous snakes, and started calling me the War God, hoping I’d bestow power upon them.”

Wait — I had the feeling this voice wasn’t coming from the stick at all. I looked carefully, and there beside the wooden stick floated a wisp of something faintly white, so faint you could barely make out what it was.

“Ah… it’s not the stick talking to you.” The voice sighed. “I’m talking! My true form isn’t like this! It’s just that from about a hundred years ago, I began to decline… little by little, until only this wisp of white remains. This stick is my walking cane. This misunderstanding is what changed me from the War God into the War God’s Staff. Really, of all things…”

Before it could finish, the wisp coughed violently again, its color growing ever more faint.

This creature was truly dying.

“Female demon — there is much about you that smells familiar to me…” The white wisp’s voice grew increasingly faint. “I always felt certain that someone would come to find me.”

I moved closer. Having no idea how to comfort a wisp of something barely alive, I could only say: “Rest a moment before you speak.”

“I’ve rested enough…” The wisp breathed. “If you had come even a few days earlier, perhaps you might have helped me figure out what I used to be. But never mind. I can’t wait anymore…”

Before the words were fully out, the white wisp dissipated like something blown away by wind. A cyan-blue radiance flashed and shimmered from where it dissolved, fell to the ground, and became a piece of cyan-blue axe-shaped rock, roughly one inch square. Picking it up, there was no trace of any human craftsmanship — it looked as though it had simply been born that way.

The fifth stone?!

I quickly pulled out the Peach Spring Cage — sure enough, the inscription on it had disappeared.

I hadn’t imagined the fifth stone would come to me in such a dramatic fashion.

While I was moved to agitation at having found the fifth stone, over to one side, Xiao Qing was still kneeling dazedly on the ground, staring at its own palm, murmuring: “It already passed the power to me?”

“It truly did give it to you.” I walked over and pulled it to its feet. “But all this time, you’ve been afraid of those red dots — couldn’t even bring yourself to look at them.”

Xiao Qing habitually rubbed its palm together, head bowed, voice low: “I thought they only existed to remind me, each time someone left, how much closer death was getting to me. Hiding in the northern mountain — I never once slept well a single night. Those neighbors who were hunted and killed, Xingguang who died, Yueliang’s smile, and every word my father ever said to me — they filled my dreams to bursting. I hated my fear, and kept right on being afraid. Ridiculous, isn’t it?”

“But you still couldn’t let go of your kinspeople in the valley. Otherwise, after you met Ao Chi, you never would have hit on the idea of having him come and protect the valley.” I stared at it and my tone grew stern. “Raise your head when you speak.”

Xiao Qing startled and lifted its head to look at me: “All these years, the only times I ever took off the glove were a few times — and every time I did, I found there were fewer people in the valley. Beast-people’s lives are already short enough, and we still have to face danger from outside… What they need is a hero like my father. Not a born coward like me.”

“What do you think is truly the strongest power in the world?” I crouched down and looked into Xiao Qing’s dejected eyes. “Powerful muscles? Great wealth? Evil sorcery? Or perhaps, like Ao Chi and me — possessing spiritual power, able to ascend to Heaven and descend into the earth?”

Xiao Qing thought for a long moment, shook its head, unable to answer.

I sighed: “None of these count as truly formidable power.”

“None of these count?” Xiao Qing was genuinely confused.

“I know of a girl from the centaur clan — born a natural hunter — who turned an arrow aimed at a lion and sent it flying toward herself instead.” I picked up the wooden stick and swung it through the air a few times. “Power does not lie in whether you’re holding a stick or a hunting rifle, a sum of money or political authority. It lies in whether there is something in your life that you would stake your very life to protect.”

The stick tapped lightly on Xiao Qing’s head. “And this has nothing to do with whether you’re an ant or an elephant.”

I didn’t know whether this creature could understand what I was saying. I only saw it remain silent for a long time, then raise its palm, and for the first time look at those red marks without flinching or pulling away.

12

The mood in the valley grew tense.

The reason was a video that Jiayī had captured on his phone while wandering outside — over a dozen heavy-duty vehicles charging through the Reserve’s entrance in a great, thundering mass. The workers who tried to stop them were beaten down by several men jumping from the vehicles. This group of unknown origin paid absolutely no heed to the law, and was barreling aggressively toward the deeper part of the Reserve.

“That man brought Briman here.” Jiayī turned off the video and glanced at Xiao Qing. “You said Benjamin has a map to enter the valley?”

Xiao Qing nodded: “But even with the map, they’d need at least a day to get here.”

“They’ve brought quite a few weapons,” Jiayī said flatly. “Enough to tear this place apart.”

The beast-people in the valley, not knowing what was happening, looked at us anxiously, asking what was going on.

“Nothing is going to happen.” Xiao Qing leapt onto a tall rock and said loudly: “No one is going to come here and cause trouble.”

I had never seen it stand so straight, speak with such a firm voice. Even those eyes that had always been so listless now held a thread of light — I couldn’t help but think of the light that had filtered down through the cloud cover on the first morning we arrived here. Though it still looked, right now, like an unremarkable little cat, the shadow cast behind it had undergone a subtle, inexplicable change — that was not the shadow a cat was supposed to cast.

I took Ao Chi by the arm and withdrew from the group. “Time to go.”

“Go?” Ao Chi looked puzzled. “There’s a whole crowd of people outside looking for revenge… we’re just leaving?”

“The tea session is already over.” I gave him a look and smiled with a trace of cunning. “This one also saw the War God’s Staff, and received the genuine transmission.”

“Really?” Ao Chi looked at me with disbelief.

I tugged him by the ear, leaned in close, and whispered several things, then beckoned to Jiayī. The three of us slipped away quietly.

But just as we reached the baobab tree at the valley entrance, Xiao Qing came running after us.

“You’re leaving?” It darted in front of us.

“This place truly is beautiful,” Ao Chi said, scratching his nose. “But it isn’t my home. It’s yours. So kill the idea of getting me to immigrate!”

“I only came to say goodbye.” Xiao Qing looked up at us. “I’m not leaving anymore.”

“What are your plans?” I asked.

“I’ve already had Kael and the others take the elders in the valley to a safer place for now. The young ones are all staying.” Xiao Qing said earnestly. “You’re right — this is my home. So I’ll stay.” Its eyes curved into two crescent moons. It jumped onto my shoulder and said quietly: “I didn’t spit out your tea. The War God’s Staff — even though I don’t fully understand what it was, I believe what it said. And I believe my father really did receive true power from it all those years ago. And that he really did pass that power to me. I just never discovered it.”

“You know where that power is now?” I smiled.

“Power comes from courage. True courage does not lie in conquest, but in protection.” Xiao Qing extended its palm. The red marks were vivid and clear. “These aren’t reminders of how close death is. They’re reminders of how many people still need me to protect them.”

Not only I, but even Ao Chi, let out a breath of relief.

“Then safe travels to you all.” Xiao Qing turned to go, then stopped, looked back, and flashed me a grin: “If it isn’t too much trouble, bring your child here to play someday. Sitting on this baobab tree together, I guarantee you’ll see the most beautiful scenery in the world!”

I nodded: “We’ll come. That’s a promise.”

“Goodbye!” Xiao Qing waved a paw at us.

“Wait!” I suddenly called out.

“What is it?”

“What about the gold mountain you said no one knew about?”

“It’s that mountain in the valley.”

“But there’s no gold there!”

“I never said there was gold there. That mountain’s name is just ‘Gold Mountain.'”

“Say that again!!!”

13

With a shattered heart over failing to acquire any gold, I departed the valley in sorrow.

Before leaving the Reserve, however, Ao Chi and Jiayī both independently disappeared for fifteen minutes. Ao Chi’s reason was a stomachache, needing to find a place to relieve himself. Jiayī offered no reason whatsoever — he simply vanished.

Please. Did these two idiots think I didn’t know what they’d been up to behind my back?

Looking at the two of them returning with heads and faces covered in black ash, I said directly: “There’s no water here for you to wash up. Next time, before you reduce someone’s firearms to powder, could you position yourselves downwind?”

“He’s the one who caused it!” Ao Chi glared at Jiayī with indignation, vigorously wiping his face. “One person was perfectly sufficient to deal with those people’s weapons. But he just had to show off, throwing out a talisman paper that went flying all over the place and blew black ash everywhere!”

“Something I could complete in one minute — why wait ten minutes for you to finish?” Jiayī said coolly. “Efficiency matters.”

“I only took five minutes!”

“Still too slow.”

“Looking for a beating, are you?”

“I’ll file a complaint with the labor board for employee abuse.”

“…”

We made it back to the car, parked outside the Reserve, just before sunset.

Before Ao Chi started the engine, I suddenly asked: “You really only destroyed their weapons? You didn’t kill anyone?”

“Of course not.” Ao Chi’s expression turned to one of his rare, genuine, serious looks. “Every contest should be fair.”

“Whether they can survive from here — that’s their own business.” Jiayī stifled a yawn and retreated into the back cabin.

I looked one more time in the direction of the valley, drew a deep breath, and said to Ao Chi: “Let’s go.”

I know there are many people who were hoping to see a dragon and a tree demon and a Daoist strike down a wicked sorcerer and save the valley’s weak and small. My apologies — that won’t happen. Reality may be a little crueler. But if a person can’t even protect their own homeland and loved ones without relying on others — then their existence truly has no meaning.

Our car sped forward into the sunset. Even though the savanna and the valley will soon become a part of our memories, I still promise — no matter what the future holds, I will bring my child back here.

I hope you’ll still be there then.

I hope at that time, I can hold my child in my arms and sit in the baobab tree, and say to him or her: once, there was a little uncle here who looked like a small cat. He was very brave. He defeated the bullying villains and the sorcerer who came to cause trouble.

14

“This stone looks so strange — like an axe,” Ao Chi said, sitting in a restaurant on a long street in Cape Town, turning the stone over in his hands and finding no obvious pattern to it.

“And this axe has no cutting edge — completely blunt,” I said, taking a sip of soup. “And that formless creature was too strange — claiming to be a heavenly god, yet with barely any memory. No idea what its background was.”

Jiayī wiped his mouth and said, unhurriedly: “In the deepest part of the divine tomb where Pangu is buried, there is a kind of cyan-blue stone that forms naturally in the shape of an axe. It is extraordinarily blunt — use it to actually chop something, and it can’t even cut through paper. It’s said these stones were transformed from the axe Pangu used to split open Heaven and Earth, and so they are called ‘Heaven-Splitting Axes.’ They have always been symbols of courage and strength. Throughout history, many warriors considered possessing one of these ‘Heaven-Splitting Axes’ to be a supreme honor.”

“Why do you know so much about these stones?” Ao Chi and I said in unison.

Jiayī turned his head toward the server and called: “Excuse me, another serving of lobster salad, please!”

This fellow was completely ignoring us!

Just as I was about to press him further, Ao Chi suddenly grabbed my arm and pointed at the television across from us:

“According to this station’s latest news, several men who illegally entered Kruger Reserve have been formally arrested. All suspects have admitted to being hired by wealthy businessman Briman Karla. Reserve staff have confirmed that they personally witnessed Briman leading a motorcade forcing its way into the Reserve — though the reason remains unclear. All suspects who entered the Reserve that day sustained injuries of varying severity, with Briman himself and one accompanying individual bearing the most serious wounds — both still not out of danger. All parties claim they were attacked by a rare white cheetah. This claim has yet to receive any corroboration.”

The three of us looked at each other.

“Cheetah?” A piece of lobster fell out of Ao Chi’s mouth. “Wasn’t it a cat?”

“As long as it was still inside that eggshell, it was always only a little cat.” I let out a full, satisfied belch.

“So it really was Xiao Qing?” Ao Chi still couldn’t quite believe it.

I pursed my lips: “Beast-people are, at the end of the day, demons. What shapes their form is not only time — it can also be… a ‘shell.'”

In truth, whether or not the “unconfirmed” white cheetah that had gravely injured Briman and his party was Xiao Qing — I was certain of one thing. That land had, once again, found itself a courageous guardian.

Epilogue

On a scorching savanna, a pair of young photographers raised their cameras, excitedly collecting every beautiful image before them. Suddenly, the female photographer cried out and shot a rapid series of frames at the grass ahead. “What is it?” Her boyfriend came rushing from the other side. She raised her camera, so astonished she could barely speak: “I saw a white cheetah!” “You must be seeing things,” her boyfriend was naturally skeptical. “Cheetahs are already rare enough — let alone a white one.” “Really!” The woman tilted the camera toward him and pulled up the series of photographs she’d just taken. But in every single photo, there was only a flash of snow-white shadow crossing through the grass — impossible to make out what it was.

The sun climbed ever higher. A parched lion lay resting on the ground. Antelopes drifted leisurely in the distance. A few vultures busied themselves picking at the remains of a zebra’s skeleton. A black rhinoceros happily rolled in a mud pit.

This land — whether in daylight or in darkness — had at last returned to what it was meant to be.

When the first golden thread appeared on the horizon and the birds and beasts began their lively morning chorus, a new day arrived right on time. On a tall rock crouched a cheetah — pure white all over, its posture graceful and powerful. It held its head high, and within its pale amber eyes, a red sun was slowly, steadily rising. A little while from now, when the light fully pierced through the clouds, its body would become as radiant as gold. In that moment, all the power and beauty of this world would be there and nowhere else.

“Father — this place, I’ll leave to me now.”

He sat up a little straighter. From now on, he would never call himself “Xiao Qing” again. Xiao Qing was only a cowardly little cat living inside an eggshell. But he was a cheetah. His name was Qing.

His mother had said: when he was born, the first thing she saw was the widest, most vivid and vibrant color of the savanna.