Chapter Eighty: Hope Restored

The spring breeze drove Shanhe into the farthest corner of Chenguāng Cave.

“Shanhe! Hand over the little crow! If you keep gripping her like that, there won’t even be a corpse left!” cried the spring breeze anxiously.

“I’m not gripping her hard! You’re not allowed to bury her!” Shanhe roared back.

The spring breeze, furious, cast a spell to turn Shanhe into a small beast, sealed her mouth, and lunged to snatch the little crow. Shanhe shielded the little crow beneath her body, anchoring herself to the ground, refusing to let go.

“Will you let go or not?” the spring breeze demanded in anger.

Shanhe shook her head.

The spring breeze raised the purple-gold mace and bellowed, “Hand over the little crow!”

“No!” Shanhe replied, her voice muffled.

A sharp crack sounded as the mace landed on Shanhe’s body, tearing flesh from her skin.

Shanhe shook her head desperately.

“Give her up!” Another blow fell, and Shanhe’s head shook like a rattle drum.

After several such strikes, Shanhe was left half-dead. The spring breeze, eyes red, pried her limp form away and, fortunately, found the little crow still intact.

The spring breeze cradled the charcoal-like little crow in his hands…

Suddenly, he froze. Within the “charcoal” seemed to thump a heart—strong and powerful, pounding like a drum!

He set up a celestial screen at the cave entrance and placed the little crow on a mat of fragrant grass. Shanhe struggled over to protect the little crow, but he scooped her up and began to heal her with a spell. “Fool! Clumsy thing! I understand now. Are you stupid or what?” he muttered, scolding softly. Shanhe settled quietly in his arms and soon fell asleep, reassured.

The crust of charcoal on the little crow began to flake away, disintegrating into ash, revealing snowy white feathers beneath.

With Shanhe in his arms, the spring breeze wept for joy, overcome, and kissed her fiercely. Then, realizing he’d just kissed a furry little beast, he gagged in disgust and vomited loudly…

Outside the cave, a crowd of flower and tree spirits, blocked by the screen, heard his sobs and retching. They were so frightened they began to offer comfort from outside, “My lord, please restrain your grief!” “Take care of yourself, my lord!” “Do not be consumed by sorrow, my lord!”

His retching was so intense it seemed his very organs would come up. Blood on his chest and a handful of ashes, he finally emerged from Chenguāng Cave.

The spirits all sighed, thinking, “No wonder the Lord is so heartbroken. The lady he cherished didn’t even leave an intact body—reduced to ashes by that wild beast.”

The spring breeze placed the ashes into a precious camphorwood box prepared by the flower and tree spirits and personally buried them beneath the pear tree mound. Remembering the torments the little crow had suffered, guilt overwhelmed him for not having protected her. In a wave of grief, he mourned anew.

He discovered a spy from the Netherworld and knocked down the spirit butterfly that had been gathering information, sealing off Hundred Flowers Island. The next day, he left a single message: “I am in poor spirits and am going for a walk,” and flew away.

On the island, the spirits gossiped, “So the Lord does not fancy men but women after all!”

“Didn’t he like Lord Yu Fei?”

“Yes, but this time he’s really shaken.”

“Why?”

“Lord Yu Fei died, and the Lord grieved for a long while. He finally found a substitute—a female spirit—only for her to end up with some brute and then burn herself to death. Wouldn’t that be a blow?”

“Will the Lord go mad?”

“What difference does it make if he’s mad or not?”

“That’s true. But will he go out and indulge himself?”

“In what way?”

“Will he go seeking pleasure?”

“I doubt it. Our Lord may be eccentric, but he’s never done such things.”

“But after such a shock, who knows?”

“Sigh… So beautiful, yet no good match.”

Having left Hundred Flowers Island, the spring breeze arrived at Jade Bamboo Mountain in the South Sea. The mountain’s spirits flocked to curry favor.

“Beautiful female spirits, stay with me! The ugly and the men, get lost!” he commanded.

A few pretty female spirits followed him deep into the bamboo grove and into a cavern.

“Come in with me!” he ordered, leading them inside. “Clean this cave. Arrange it with fragrant flowers and herbs. Not a speck of dust! Prepare all the necessities…”

When the cave was spotless, the spring breeze set a celestial screen at the entrance, pulled a white finch from his robes, and placed it on the mat woven from fragrant herbs.

That white finch was me.

When the inferno swept through Hundred Flowers Island that year, I simply fell asleep within it. For three days and nights, I slept and dreamed—dreamt I returned to the void of Kunlun, where snow fell endlessly on Chasing Immortal Cliff… He was always there, mending the sky’s rift… and I watched him… The snowflakes, like clouds, landed on my hair and body, melting into my heart…

Three days later, the spring breeze carried Shanhe, still in her beast form, to welcome me in the mountain cave.

“Come, Shanhe, look at the little crow’s new form! A white finch, especially beautiful! The little crow has cultivated a divine body!” Shanhe exclaimed in excitement from the spring breeze’s arms.

“Silence! If you keep shouting, I’ll poison you mute!” the spring breeze threatened.

Shanhe fell silent, helplessly lying in his embrace.

The moment I stepped out of the cave, the spring breeze’s delight froze on his face.

“Little crow, your hair!” he exclaimed.

“Perhaps this is how a white finch should look,” I smiled gently.

“Even a white peacock in human form doesn’t have white hair! Your master is a white dragon, and his hair is not white! I am a purple dragon, but my hair isn’t purple!” he fretted.

In my heart, I thought: Because I will never see the Kunlun snow again, he gave me this snow-dusted hair in my dreams.

Seeing my silence, the spring breeze hastened to comfort me, “You’re still the little crow, only more beautiful! From a high immortal, you’ve become a goddess! I always knew you were different! Your hair doesn’t matter! Whatever color you want, I’ll dye it for you!”

I laughed, “Don’t make me look like someone from Hundred Flowers Island, all garish colors. I’m fine just like this, a proper old lady.”

“What old lady? You’re the most beautiful goddess! I’ll have all the spirits on my island dye their hair like old ladies!” said the spring breeze.

“You too,” I replied.

“I… fine! I’ll do it with you! I’ll be an old grandpa!” The spring breeze was about to rush off to dye his hair, intending to bleach Shanhe’s as well.

I stopped him. I was only joking. The spring breeze cherished his appearance, especially his jet-black, silken hair, which he groomed daily with countless fragrant oils, always arranging it impeccably. Dyeing it like an old man would be no different from disfigurement. The whip scar on his face had healed lightly, leaving no mark; otherwise, he would have gone mad.

After this calamity, not only did I survive, but I also transformed from a high immortal into a goddess. The ranks of immortals are lesser immortals, immortals, high immortals, and the great golden immortals. The great golden immortal is the highest. I had only reached high immortal, but was suddenly elevated to goddesshood. The spring breeze said that gods rule heaven and earth, and must be born of tribulation or divine blood. The fall of the Chongming God was a catastrophe for heaven and earth, so I was made a goddess by fate.

My master had spent half his life force to save me, and even bestowed his divine power upon me. As his disciple, I should bear his responsibilities—this was both duty and my sole reason to keep living.

Even more comforting was that Keke had survived. The hound of the Netherworld had swallowed her, but did not devour her. The Netherworld released her, hoping to lure the spring breeze, but she was too weak and fainted for days after being set free. It was Shanhe who led the spring breeze to the Netherworld. When Keke awoke, she wandered in search of Hundred Flowers Island, and by a twist of fate, found Jade Bamboo Mountain, where she encountered me in my white finch form, resting in the bamboo forest.

“Fei’er, I’m sorry! I’ve become addicted to wine! That Jiang Wu pretended to be kind to me, always tempting me with fragrant spirits. On your wedding day, I got drunk and was captured by her. Did you marry Mingzhong? I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It’s all my fault!” Keke apologized to me over and over.

“As long as you’re alive, that’s all that matters. The past is gone,” I reassured her. Keke shouldn’t have been in danger—she only entered that den to rescue me, and I will always be grateful for her heart.

I warned her not to tell the spring breeze about my abduction to the Netherworld or what I endured there. During my captivity, Tiande, for his “merits” in negotiating with the Netherworld, had been made crown prince of the Celestial Palace, now bearing the prince’s divine seal. Without the thunderous might of a heavenly tribulation, ordinary lightning or execution could not kill him. The revenge for nearly crippling me and sending me to the Netherworld would have to wait for the right moment.

“Little crow! Let’s start anew!” the spring breeze said with a hopeful smile, as though he were my master…

I smiled back. I would begin again, for my departed master…

I thought I could sever all ties with Mingzhong, forget that dreamlike night, and start completely anew. But that night of entanglement left me with an unexpected “gift.”

I was pregnant—with Mingzhong’s child. Another cruel blow. The Netherworld had enough demons tormenting the world—must Mingzhong add another to their ranks? I didn’t want this “little demon”! I thought a bowl of herbal abortion brew would rid me of it, but the child proved stubborn, its heart beating ever stronger with each attempt. I added an even harsher sterility powder to the red flower decoction, but the spring breeze discovered it, smashed the bowl, and scolded me furiously.

“If you say your master scattered his soul among all beings, then this child is one of them! Your master never killed the innocent! Claiming to save all beings while slaying an innocent—your own child—you’re crueller than Mingzhong! Even a tigress will not eat her cubs. Are you still the kind-hearted little crow?”

What mother wishes to kill her own child? Yet this child pierced my heart. Carrying it, I constantly dreamed of Mingzhong—dreamed of him slowly removing his mask, revealing my master’s face; dreamed of escaping the Netherworld, fleeing Mingzhong, only for him to clutch his chest in pain, grabbing my hand and writing “Kunlun Snow” in blood on my palm.

I had fallen in love with my master, only realizing it after death separated us. I didn’t even know if he loved me back, and in my confusion under the soul-bewitching spell, I mistook my enemy for him, made him my husband!

That night, I dreamed of my master on Chasing Immortal Cliff, telling me, “Live well.” I asked him whether I should let the “little demon” live.

He merely smiled in silence and turned once more to mend the rift in the sky…