Chapter Eighty-Three: The Death of Spring Breeze (Part One)

On the territory of Spirit Hill, one of the Five Hills of the Heavenly Realm, the immortal beings afflicted by calamity anxiously awaited a long-desired rain, hoping for the sweet dew that had eluded them for so long. They watched with mounting impatience as the clouds, carefully condensed by the deities of the Jade Purity Domain, failed to yield any rain, sparking lively discussions among the crowd.

Amidst the throngs, a master and servant, both dressed in plain attire, observed the unfolding events intently. The master was tall and elegant, his illness lending a certain frailty to his noble bearing. The servant was shorter, with a darker complexion and sharp, intelligent eyes.

Unable to contain his anxiety, the servant whispered, “My lord, what should we do? Perhaps you should intervene…”

The master’s expression remained impassive, his gaze profound. “Such matters are beyond the power of a mere grain merchant.”

“But is there truly no other way?” the servant asked, growing more agitated.

The master stared at the thick clouds above and covered his mouth, coughing softly. “If they find themselves helpless, then you must fetch someone.”

The servant was puzzled. “You mean to bring…”

The master fell silent, his attention fixed on the heavens.

The senior disciples’ clouds lingered above the Nine Provinces, unable to descend, their anxiety palpable. Though I had inherited some divine power from my master, and could use the Cloud Condensing Technique, my talents lay not in summoning rain and snow or mending the sky with ice crystals. If it were simply a matter of melting the sky’s flaws with fire, I would be more than capable.

Troubled, I recalled a solution: the grand dance performed in the Celestial Palace years ago, accompanied by the thunderous drum of the Kui Ox. If I could strike it once more with the “Triumphant Battle Chant,” surely the rain would be shaken loose. Yet, since the Heavenly Realm suffered its disaster, the palace’s management was strict, and as a mere caretaker, I had no access to the palace. Spring Breeze could, but he was busy countering the calamity with his magic, unable to spare himself.

Thinking desperately, a sudden inspiration struck. Besides the sound of the Kui Ox drum, there was Shanshui! After I lost my voice, Spring Breeze brought me countless throat-protecting remedies, and Shanshui consumed many on my behalf. Her voice surpassed mine in power, more earth-shaking than the drum itself.

I flew back to Jade Bamboo Mountain.

Shanshui was quietly seated among the bamboo, her square jaw propped up in a daze. Upon seeing me, she pinched her throat and whispered, “Fei’er, I’m stifled!”

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Spring Breeze said my voice is too loud. He doesn’t like it. I’ve been holding back for so long, it’s unbearable!” Shanshui’s face was full of grievance.

I chuckled. “No need to hold back anymore. Now, the louder you are, the more Spring Breeze will appreciate it. The louder you shout, the more you’re helping him.”

Listless moments ago, Shanshui instantly perked up, leaping to her feet with excitement. “Really? Let’s go help the god! What should I do?”

“Go beneath the clouds above the Nine Provinces and shout with all your might! The louder, the better. If you meet anyone from the Jade Purity Domain, say Spring Breeze sent you. Don’t mention me—be sure not to let it slip,” I instructed.

“Don’t worry, Granny! I won’t tell the seniors about you!” Shanshui soared away. As she matured and advanced in cultivation, she became ever more astute.

I transformed into my true form, a white sparrow, and followed.

Arriving above the Nine Provinces, I plugged my ears from a distance. Shanshui avoided the senior disciples, hid behind the vast clouds, and transformed into her original form, the Sky Roaring Beast. She gathered her strength, opened her massive mouth, and unleashed a roar she had held back for so long.

The heavens trembled, and suddenly, the clouds condensed above the Nine Provinces turned into a flurry of goose-feather snow, cascading down!

It was the blazing month of June, and the waters gathered from all four seas finally transformed into drifting snow.

The spirit birds, taking refuge everywhere, soared joyfully into the sky, singing their delight.

I flew among them, though my throat was choked and I could not utter a sound.

This snow was like his embrace… like returning home to Kunlun Xu… I could no longer see the snow of Kunlun Xu, but I saw the snow falling over the Nine Provinces and Four Seas. I could no longer see him, yet I saw how his concern for all beings had never left!

The great snow mingled with my tears of rebirth, falling upon the land, transforming into gentle streams. June snow brought new life; the earth was vibrant and green.

Those at death’s door survived the catastrophe; the wrongly deceased returned to life; those destined for calamity passed peacefully.

The immortals, witnessing this scene, were beside themselves with joy, cheering ecstatically…

“It’s snowing! There’s water!”

“We’re alive! My child is alive!”

“Chongming God has returned! Manifested!”

“Chongming God comes again by vow, now incarnated as the God of Great Sound!” Someone among the immortals shouted.

Soon the crowd echoed…

“Yes! True God of Great Sound!”

“True God of Great Sound!”

The master and servant were astonished by the changes in the Nine Provinces and Heavenly Realm. The servant involuntarily asked, “What is happening here? How do disciples of the Jade Purity Domain possess such powerful magic, able to resolve calamities and restore the dead?”

“This is not their own divine power; the immortal world is full of talent. In recent years, a divine physician emerged—perhaps they’ve acted in secret.”

“Does this divine physician possess such power, perhaps as the newborn god?”

“It cannot be known. The vast immortal realm conceals many hermits, some able to mask their celestial star.”

“When you asked me to fetch an immortal, could it be this roaring immortal?” the servant asked.

The master smiled slightly, offering no answer, but seemed suddenly to recall something. He gazed toward the spirit birds singing and soaring in the sky, his eyes bright with anticipation, searching among them with a longing gaze…

The birds circled in the snowfall, and as his eyes failed to find what they sought, they grew ever more desolate and deep.

The servant, seeming to understand his master’s intent, joined in the search.

“Let’s go,” the master said softly, turning to leave in silence. The servant followed, and the two melted into the crowd of immortals rejoicing through tears.

A magnificent snowfall illuminated the entire Nine Provinces. In my white sparrow form, I flew alongside the birds. This snow was imbued with my master’s presence; this light and hope seemed to be his gift…

As I flew, I glanced back unwittingly—there was a familiar figure amid the crowd… The snow obscured my vision; I hurried over, but found nothing—it was only an illusion.

Disappointment… Anger… Why did the memory of Mingzhong from the wedding day in the Netherworld intrude, why did his harsh words mingle with my master’s gentle admonitions, why could I not erase the shadow of that demon from my longing?

Shanshui, once her roar was spent, rushed back to Hundred Flowers Island to claim credit with Spring Breeze.

I hurried to the other Four Hills and Eight Marshes, discovering that the immortals of those territories had all purchased lifesaving grain from the mysterious merchant. If they used it sparingly, it would last until the new harvest matured. I couldn’t help but admire the merchant: though cunning, he made a fortune from the disaster, yet his actions were more crucial than the snow itself.

When my master was alive, the immortals of the Five Hills and Eight Marshes defied him, acted recklessly, boasted in prosperous years, some even belittled my master’s fame as Chongming God. Now, having suffered calamity and been gouged by the merchant, they felt aggrieved but were grateful, and as my master’s soul scattered, they remembered his goodness and hoped for his aid. These people truly refuse the wine of goodwill and only accept punishment; their greed must be cut from their hearts, for nothing leaves a deeper mark than a wound upon the soul.

Though the calamity was resolved, my doubts remained. Who was this mysterious merchant with such vast reserves of immortal grain? How did he possess such foresight? I sought clues and attempted to meet him, but found no sign or trace. The immortals’ descriptions of his appearance were unfamiliar to me.

I searched the Nine Provinces for the merchant and, finding stability restored, flew back to Hundred Flowers Island in the South Sea to check on Spring Breeze, exhausted from his labors.

He had recently overseen both the seasons and agriculture, bearing responsibilities for both Hundred Flowers Island and Jade Purity Domain. Each year, he went to Jade Purity Domain to repair the flaw in the sky in place of my master, but he needed to reverse his own cultivation to mend it, consuming far more divine power than my master ever had. Over the years, he had spent much energy. This time, he exhausted himself to shield the Heavenly Realm from disaster, and amidst his fatigue, worried about Keke caring for Little White, making time each day to play with him, so busy he neglected even his own vanity. It was truly difficult.

Crossing mountains, I returned to the South Sea and sensed something was amiss. Spring Breeze’s territory was usually filled with freedom, color, and joy, but now there was an uneasy air. Transformed into white light, I hurried forward, and before I had even landed, I heard Shanshui’s deafening cries: “God! Wake up!”

Her wailing nearly made me faint, and I rushed onto the island. It was chaos, a scene of devastation. The flower and tree spirits were on their knees, sobbing.

Shanshui sat on the ground, her mighty arms wrapped around Spring Breeze, who was covered in blood, her tears and snot streaming as she cried aloud. The most beautiful god of the heavenly realm lay limp in her embrace, his body as soft as a noodle, his face pale to the point of terror.

In over two thousand years of knowing him, I had never seen the vain and cleanliness-obsessed god in such a state. My heart turned upside down, blood surging to my head, and I rushed over. Instinct told me Spring Breeze’s situation was dire, and I couldn’t help but shout: “Shanshui! What happened to him?”

“Someone ambushed him while he was exhausted, and after a fierce battle, he was gravely wounded and could not recover!” Shanshui’s cries resounded.

“If not for the Netherworld, who seized the opportunity to strike! They still refuse to give up, still covet Spring Breeze’s divine body!” I nearly ground my teeth to dust.

I hurriedly checked Spring Breeze’s breath—none. I grabbed his hand, cold and pulse-less. I pressed my ear to his chest—no heartbeat.

How could I have overlooked him! How could I have left him alone on Hundred Flowers Island when he was so exhausted! I knew full well the Netherworld coveted him! My heart was filled with remorse.

“Spring Breeze! You cannot die!” I called desperately to him, using my magic to heal him, but my medical skills had no effect. Even my tears of rebirth refused to flow! Had I wept them dry above the Nine Provinces? Why could I not shed a single tear now? Was Spring Breeze destined for this calamity?

“Save him, please!” Shanshui tugged at my arm, pleading.

I forced myself through the pain and asked, “How long has he been without breath? Has it been more than an hour? Did you use any artifact like a goblet?” My heart was frantic, terrified she would say what I dreaded most.