Chapter 79: Extra 5
Unlike other members of her lineage, the Phoenix had no mother.
She was born from the primordial energy of heaven and earth, destined to rule the feathered lineages.
At that time, the Sovereign of the feathered lineages was an Azure Dragon, and all lived in Danxue Mountain.
The Phoenix was raised until she was around ten years old, then presented to the other feathered lineages as their “Young Sovereign,” studying alongside other youths of similar age. But they didn’t like her. By the time she appeared, they already had a leader, a Vermilion Bird, whom they believed to be the true Young Sovereign.
The Phoenix didn’t care much for their opinions. Born with innate knowledge, she didn’t need to learn techniques or spells. She knew the elders simply wanted her to interact with the future leaders of the lineages, fostering relationships. But they also taught her that a ruler should be impartial, selfless.
What was selflessness? Where there was affection, there was bias. Only without emotions could one achieve true impartiality.
When she turned two hundred years old, the Sovereign, having achieved perfect cultivation, retreated to the Realm Beyond Heaven, entrusting the feathered lineages to her care. The Phoenix agreed. Over the past two hundred years, she had fulfilled the elders’ expectations, becoming the ruler they desired.
Those youths from her childhood became her trusted advisors, assisting her in governing the lineages.
Some were genuinely loyal, their hearts devoted to her. Others harbored ulterior motives, but she didn’t care. Day after day, she diligently handled their affairs, leading them towards prosperity, their influence even surpassing the Heavenly Court’s.
But gradually, she grew weary.
Looking in the mirror, she saw two faces.
As the Phoenix Sovereign, she couldn’t remove her mask. But as long as she wasn’t the Sovereign, she could be herself.
One day, seeing a small sparrow flitting past her window, an idea struck her. She used her magic power to transform into a fluffy bird.
Lower-ranking feathered lineages couldn’t transform into phoenixes, but she, as the Phoenix, could take on any form.
No one would pay attention to a sparrow flying through the sky.
She was finally free to roam.
She left Kunlun Mountain and Danxue Mountain behind, venturing to the realm of wandering immortals, perching on branches, watching them play Go and discussing the Dao.
“Fellow Daoist Suxin gave me more elixirs.”
“How are they this time?”
“They look good, and they taste sweet.”
“Suxin Sword Master doesn’t practice swordsmanship. She spends all her time making elixirs, giving them away to everyone, claiming she can’t give them away fast enough. Such a waste.”
A waste? That sounded interesting.
From their conversations, she easily learned the location of Suxin Sword Master’s abode.
Unfortunately, she didn’t find Suxin there.
She smelled a sweet fragrance and, after a moment of thought, stealthily entered the cave.
There was a barrier outside, but it was easily bypassed. Her gaze fell on a medicine cabinet, and she snatched a bottle of elixirs, leaving behind a large amount of Cinnabar Jade, both as payment and as an apology. After all, her actions were inexcusable, but she wanted to do it just once.
But the elixirs were a complete disappointment.
The taste was decent, but they had no effect. Even after burning away the toxins with her Phoenix Fire, some residue remained, requiring further purification.
A sword cultivator should focus on swordsmanship, and the Phoenix Sovereign should fulfill her duties as a ruler, not indulge in whimsical fantasies of being herself, right?
Her mood soured, her expression as cold as frost. Those around her didn’t dare to speak.
They respected her, but they also feared her.
She was the Phoenix, born with virtue. They were right to fear her.
On a sleepless night, she visited Suxin Sword Master’s abode again.
She had heard that Suxin loved giving away elixirs. Was she trying to poison half the Heavenly Court?
She felt a surge of anger and was determined to confront her.
She transformed into a small sparrow and flew into the night.
The moonlight was beautiful, and the fireflies by the stream twinkled like stars.
A hazy mist drifted through the air, and a figure lay sprawled on a rock by the stream.
One hand rested in the water, the ripples scattering the reflected moon.
She scooped up a handful of water, but more reflections appeared, flowing from her fingertips.
The Phoenix didn’t know what Suxin looked like, but somehow, she felt this wasn’t right.
She stared at Suxin, her mind blank. When she finally snapped out of her daze, she wasn’t thinking about Suxin, who had sat up lazily, but about giving herself a name.
A Sovereign had no name.
She had never had a name before and hadn’t felt the need for one.
But now, she wanted to be called “Chiyue.”
She would be Feng Chiyue.
“Who’s there?” Suxin asked, her voice sharp, scattering the fireflies around her.
A sword case hovered beside her, its sharp blades spinning like a river of stars.
The Phoenix perched on a tree branch.
Suxin glanced at her and smirked. “So it’s the elixir thief,” she said.
The Phoenix had been about to transform back into her human form, but those words embarrassed her. She flapped her wings but didn’t fly away. “I left Cinnabar Jade,” she said.
Suxin clicked her tongue, studying the sparrow with amusement.
Seeing her silence, the Phoenix’s suppressed nature resurfaced. Despite her small size, her aura was powerful. “Your elixirs are poisonous!” she exclaimed. She had intended to insult Suxin, but the soft moonlight clouded her mind, and her words were directed at the elixirs themselves.
She was telling the truth.
Suxin was startled. After a moment, she pointed at the Endless Sword Case, and a beam of light shot towards the sparrow.
How dare this little bird criticize her elixirs! And it wasn’t even one she had given away. It had been stolen from her cave. Was she shameless? None of her fellow Daoists, who had received countless elixirs from her, had ever complained! If she hadn’t valued her freedom, she could have easily become the head of the Supreme Palace!
Seeing her attack, the Phoenix was also furious. She dodged the relentless sword energy, listing the elixirs’ flaws. Even her Phoenix Fire couldn’t completely purify them! But Suxin fell silent, the sword beams intensifying, clearly intending to kill her! Fighting in her sparrow form was disadvantageous. After a sharp blade clipped one of her feathers, she transformed back into her human form, raising her sword to block Suxin’s attack.
But Suxin didn’t stop.
Her eyes gleamed with excitement as she summoned several swords from the Endless Sword Case, attacking the Phoenix relentlessly.
They fought fiercely. Even after the exhilarating battle, Suxin still seemed unsatisfied. She touched the case, rotating it slightly, and the flying swords returned.
The Phoenix stood a few feet away, sheathing her sword.
She felt Suxin’s gaze on her.
That bold gaze swept down from her silver mask, finally resting on her lips.
Suxin bowed in a gesture of greeting between equals. “May I ask for your name, Fellow Daoist?”
The Phoenix hesitated for a moment. “Feng Chiyue,” she said. It was her new name. No one knew her here. It didn’t matter if she revealed it. After all, names were meant to be used.
“So it’s Fellow Daoist Chiyue,” Suxin said. She was quick to change her demeanor, from fierce to polite. “May I ask what flaws you found in my elixirs? How can I improve them?”
The Phoenix: “…” How should she know? She only knew they contained a lot of toxins. But Suxin was looking at her expectantly, and the elders had taught her never to disappoint others. So, after careful consideration, she said coldly, “Insufficient heat control,” then, transforming into a beam of light, left.
Back in Danxue Mountain, she searched for alchemy manuals. The next time Suxin asked, she would have a definitive answer.
She didn’t visit Suxin for a while but received news about her.
Suxin, believing her words, was searching for suitable fire sources. Apart from naturally occurring spiritual flames, the only options were those belonging to phoenixes, Vermilion Birds, or other feathered lineages. This led to a series of conflicts.
Reports of these conflicts landed on her desk.
Those feathered lineages were no match for Suxin.
The Phoenix offered them some consolation, compensating them with treasures from her own vault.
She personally promised to “seek justice” but didn’t actually do anything. After all, those who had benefited would soon forget the incident.
The next time she visited Suxin, she heard a thunderous boom, a wave of heat washing over her, followed by a shrill scream.
Startled, she rushed over, fearing something terrible had happened, only to find a simple alchemy furnace explosion.
The scream had come from the spiritual flame.
The Endless Sword Case stood on the ground, its blades flying out, cleaning up the mess.
Suxin, her clothes spotless, turned to her and explained, “My swords are curious and wanted to learn alchemy. They encountered this unruly flame and things got out of hand.”
The Phoenix: “…”
Could sword spirits even practice alchemy?
She glanced at the swords sweeping the floor, then, composing herself, thought, “I guess they can.”
The world was full of wonders.
“I just made a new batch of elixirs,” Suxin said, her tone enthusiastic. “Would you like to try one, Fellow Daoist?”
The Phoenix agreed.
The elixir was delicious, then, for a moment, she lost consciousness.
If she had been facing an enemy, she would be dead.
Suxin, assuming she was simply contemplating the elixir’s effects, asked expectantly, “How is it?”
The Phoenix frowned, briefly listing its flaws, then pushed Suxin away and sat down to meditate, her Phoenix Fire swirling around her, purging the residual toxins.
The heat control might not have been the problem. Suxin herself was definitely the problem.
Silence filled the mountain, the sound of pine needles falling clearly audible.
Suxin wanted to get some healing elixirs for the Phoenix.
But remembering that the “injury” had been caused by her own elixir, she hesitated.
She took a couple of steps forward, looking at the Phoenix with concern. “Are you alright, Fellow Daoist?” she asked.
The Phoenix opened her eyes, not answering.
Suxin knelt before her, her shame deepening.
After a long moment, the Phoenix asked, her voice hoarse, “Are you going to continue making elixirs?”
Suxin raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”
“Aren’t you a sword cultivator?”
“Yes,” Suxin agreed, nodding. “But no one said sword cultivators can’t practice alchemy.”
“If you spend all your time on alchemy, what about your swordsmanship?”
Suxin lazily pointed at the sword case, and a brilliant light erupted, several spectral figures appearing.
She turned to the Phoenix. “It doesn’t affect me, does it?” she asked.
“Do what you want,” she added. “Let others suffer the consequences.”
The sword energy, like a surging wave, captivated the Phoenix.
The sun dipped below the horizon, night fell, and a hazy mist drifted through the mountains.
The bells hanging from the eaves chimed softly in the wind.
Time seemed to slip away, and when the Phoenix finally snapped out of her daze, it was already night.
Suxin knelt before her, holding a handful of pine nuts.
The Phoenix looked at her.
Suxin offered her half the nuts, then, with a flick of her wrist, her hand shot towards the Phoenix’s mask, fast as lightning.
The Phoenix was startled and grabbed her wrist, the nuts scattering on the ground. She wasn’t angry, only curious. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Just curious,” Suxin replied, shifting into a more comfortable position. “You’re curious about my alchemy. I’m curious about your face. Isn’t that normal?”
“If you won’t let me touch it, then take it off yourself,” she urged.
The Phoenix nodded, then hesitated. Why should she take off her mask? She blinked, then abruptly stood up, retreating a few steps, turning to leave.
Suxin chuckled. “Will you come back?” she asked.
The Phoenix paused. “Yes,” she said simply.
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