Chapter 80: Extra 6
Although the Phoenix had promised to visit Suxin, she had many responsibilities to the feathered lineages and often struggled to find free time. She felt that many matters could be handled by the individual tribes, but the elders insisted that, as their Sovereign, every issue, big or small, was her responsibility.
It was several months before she could visit Suxin’s abode again.
Suxin was lying on a rock by the stream, basking in the sun, her eyes covered by her sleeve, her right hand, dangling lazily, holding a silver wine gourd. Even from a distance, the Phoenix could smell the rich aroma of alcohol. Suxin glanced at her as she approached and tossed her the gourd.
Unless it was a feast, the Phoenix never touched alcohol. She caught the gourd, hesitated, then took a sip, coughing violently. The wine was strong, burning her throat.
Suxin chuckled.
The alcohol flushed her cheeks, but thankfully, her mask concealed her embarrassment. She glared at Suxin, who had sat up, and, without a word, sat beside her, taking another gulp.
She had braced herself this time and didn’t cough.
Suxin leaned closer, using the Phoenix’s shadow to shield herself from the sun. “Why did it take you so long?” she asked.
The Phoenix was startled, realizing that Suxin had been waiting for her. She returned the gourd and said softly, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” Suxin said, stretching. “We didn’t set a time.” She put away the gourd, slid off the rock, and, extending a hand towards the Phoenix, said excitedly, “I’ve made a lot of new elixirs these past few months.”
The Phoenix took her hand, her eyelashes fluttering, her gaze fixed on their intertwined fingers.
Within the feathered lineages, hierarchy was strictly observed. No one had ever touched her like this.
“What’s wrong?” Suxin asked, turning to her, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Is something bothering you, Fellow Daoist?”
“No,” the Phoenix replied slowly, then added, “Nothing.”
The alchemy furnace in Suxin’s cave had been replaced, and a hidden compartment for storing spiritual flames had been added to the medicine cabinet.
After receiving guidance from the Phoenix, Suxin believed her alchemy skills had improved significantly. She retrieved an elixir and said proudly, “This one will be perfect.”
The Phoenix reluctantly believed her lie.
Under Suxin’s expectant gaze, she tasted the elixir.
Her first thought was “What garbage,” but she didn’t want to hurt Suxin’s feelings. She praised its good points first, then pointed out its flaws. Suxin listened attentively, nodding occasionally. The Phoenix thought that Suxin might not lack theoretical knowledge but rather a natural talent for alchemy. Perhaps she should try creating poisonous elixirs instead.
“No one has visited lately,” Suxin said.
The Phoenix yawned, covering her mouth with her hand. She felt drowsy. She wasn’t sure if it was the wine or the elixir. She nodded, but didn’t reply.
“They said they wanted to discuss the Dao,” Suxin continued, her voice tinged with complaint. “They have no sense of commitment. I even prepared special elixirs for them.”
The Phoenix: “…” Perhaps they hadn’t come precisely because they didn’t want the elixirs.
Suxin’s relentless generosity had made her fellow Daoists wary of accepting her gifts.
“Perhaps you could find something else to do,” the Phoenix suggested.
“No way!” Suxin exclaimed, her voice rising. She looked at her disapprovingly, her brow furrowed. “I can’t give up halfway through!”
The Phoenix glanced at her, then sighed. Whatever made her happy.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you,” Suxin apologized, then, seeing her weary expression, asked, “Are you tired, Fellow Daoist?”
“Should I carry you to the stone bed?”
“That wine was too strong. Let’s not drink it anymore.”
“You’ve agreed to take off your mask, right?”
Suxin chattered incessantly.
The Phoenix’s consciousness drifted, her mind hazy, Suxin’s voice distant and annoying. She couldn’t understand her words, only that they were irritating, and she pushed her away.
Suxin, sitting beside her, her gaze lingering on the mask, her curiosity undiminished, wasn’t prepared for the sudden shove and fell off the bed. She sighed heavily and didn’t try to get closer again.
The Phoenix woke up less than two hours later.
She looked around the unfamiliar cave, her eyes wary, her mind gradually clearing.
Suxin entered, carrying a tray laden with pine nuts, walnuts, and various spiritual fruits.
“You’re awake?” she asked, nodding towards the tray. “Come.”
The Phoenix didn’t eat, her expression hidden behind her mask. After a moment, she said, “I need to go back.”
“Are you busy?” Suxin asked. “Are you a Heavenly Court official?” Before the Phoenix could answer, she added, “With your cultivation level, you must be at least a Star Monarch, right? You must have subordinates. You can delegate tasks to them.”
“No, I can’t,” the Phoenix said, shaking her head.
“Why not?”
She pursed her lips. “I can’t abandon my responsibilities.”
Suxin hadn’t heard the word “responsibilities” in a long time. She didn’t press her, only saying, “Alright.” Remembering her impatience during her long wait, she asked when the Phoenix would visit again.
The Phoenix wasn’t sure when she would be free. After a moment of thought, she replied, “A month.”
Suxin nodded.
But as the Phoenix left, she heard Suxin sigh wistfully.
A month, for them, was but a blink of an eye. Was it really that long?
She left with this question lingering in her mind, but the answer wasn’t given to her. She had to figure it out herself.
Over the next few days, she was clearly distracted.
“Is something troubling you, Sovereign?” her personal guard asked.
“Is there a problem with one of the tribes?”
She shook her head and, picking up a document from the pile on her desk, handed it to her guard. She composed herself and said, “Nine-Headed Bird.”
“The Nine-Headed Bird lineage is indeed unruly. They deserve to be punished. Shall we send an emissary?”
“Punished? I’m afraid that won’t be enough to subdue those arrogant creatures. They deserve to be exterminated for their actions.”
“They are still a part of the feathered lineages. There’s no need for complete annihilation. We should prioritize education and guidance.”
The Phoenix glanced at the Vermilion Bird, who had spoken last, and ignored her. “Kill them,” she said.
Those who committed crimes deserved to be punished, without exception.
“The other lineages might fear they’ll be next,” the Vermilion Bird said.
Another Phoenix, standing nearby, her sword in her arms, scoffed. “Why should they fear if they haven’t done anything wrong?”
By the time she had dealt with the Nine-Headed Bird lineage, she had already missed her appointment with Suxin.
She wanted to visit her, but then another problem arose. She had instructed the various tribes to build protective formations, and they had, but they had cut corners. Now, after being attacked by their enemies, they had suffered significant losses. They wouldn’t admit their own mistakes, of course. They simply claimed that the formations were weak and requested a better design from Danxue Mountain. But she had already given them the best one. She scolded them, then, taking out the original design, studied it, discussing potential improvements with other feathered immortals. By the time they had finished, several months had passed. She didn’t know if Suxin was still waiting for her. She retrieved some treasures from her vault and gathered some beneficial fruits, then set out.
When she arrived, Suxin wasn’t sunbathing or fiddling with her alchemy furnace. She was planting bamboo and parasol trees, using her sword as a shovel.
Suxin didn’t blame her.
But the Phoenix felt a pang of guilt. “I’m sorry I missed our appointment,” she said.
Seeing her silence, she hesitated, then removed her mask. Suxin had repeatedly asked to see her true face, but she had refused, fearing that her identity would be revealed.
Suxin stared at her, speechless, then suddenly said, “Wait here,” and rushed into the cave.
She had been digging and her robes were stained with dirt. Although she had used a spell to clean them, she still felt self-conscious.
The Phoenix sat on a stone bench outside, pouring herself a cup of wine, her heart heavy with anxiety. She didn’t understand Suxin’s reaction. Did she no longer want to be friends? Although Suxin wasn’t famous in the Heavenly Court, she had many wandering immortal friends. She didn’t need someone who was secretive and unreliable. Lost in thought, she drank, the wine flowing endlessly from the “Universe Spring” gourd.
By the time Suxin emerged, wearing clean robes, the Phoenix was drunk.
Suxin: “…”
The Phoenix pressed a hand to her forehead, her vision blurry, trying to focus. She stood up unsteadily and walked towards Suxin. “Where are your elixirs?” she asked.
Suxin, reacting quickly, caught her before she could fall. “Gone,” she said.
“You gave them all away?” the Phoenix asked, her voice filled with disappointment. Suxin didn’t need her to evaluate her elixirs anymore. Would she still care about her? The more she thought about it, the sadder she felt. She bit her lip, her eyes, misty with alcohol, fixed on Suxin. A blush crept up her cheeks, a hint of unspoken desire in her gaze. Suxin blushed under her scrutiny and, helping her into the cave, explained, “No, I didn’t.” No one had visited her. She had tried to invite people to play Go, but they always had excuses.
The Phoenix didn’t believe her. She pushed at Suxin, but she was drunk and weak, her hand landing softly on her shoulder. “Liar,” she mumbled.
Suxin’s eye twitched. “I’m not lying to you,” she said.
The Phoenix’s thoughts jumped around. “Don’t you recognize me?” she asked.
“I do,” Suxin replied, nodding. But whether Feng Chiyue was a sparrow or a phoenix made no difference to her.
The Phoenix sat down on the bed, following Suxin’s lead, and, retrieving her Qiankun bag from her muddled mind, handed it to Suxin, urging her to put away the contents. Suxin complied, and when she returned, the bed was covered in jade bottles, filled with elixirs. She didn’t know how many the Phoenix had consumed.
“Fellow Daoist Chiyue?”
“Feng Chiyue?”
She called out twice, but there was no response. Her heart sank, fearing that the Phoenix had been poisoned by the elixirs. She was about to reach out, but then crimson flames erupted from the Phoenix’s body, her Phoenix Fire blazing.
This scene was familiar.
Whenever her elixirs contained too many toxins, the Phoenix would use her fire to purify them.
Suxin: “…” Was she really that bad at alchemy? She would never make elixirs again.
When the Phoenix woke up, Suxin was still there.
Her Phoenix Fire had burned away most of the toxins, and her drunkenness had vanished.
She turned to look at Suxin.
Suxin was cutting spiritual fruits, the pure energy filling the cave with a sweet fragrance.
The Phoenix’s lips moved, but she didn’t know what to say.
Suxin walked towards her, carrying a plate of fruit. “They’re very sweet,” she said, then picked up a slice and offered it to her.
Under her gentle gaze, the Phoenix took a bite. She didn’t have a chance to speak. As soon as she swallowed, Suxin offered her another slice. She ate, her eyes fixed on Suxin.
“I’ve never fed anyone before,” Suxin said, smiling. As the Phoenix took the last bite, she didn’t withdraw her hand, her fingertip brushing against the Phoenix’s lips as if unintentionally. The Phoenix shuddered, her face flushing red. Her fingers tightened, clutching her cloak, then, realizing the strange sensation, she quickly withdrew her hand, her gaze dropping.
Suxin turned away to put away the plate.
The Phoenix stared at her, then, as she turned back, quickly averted her gaze.
“You’re busy. Are you tired?” Suxin asked.
The Phoenix nodded, then shook her head. After a moment, she explained why she had been late.
Suxin didn’t ask what the Nine-Headed Birds had done wrong. She simply raised an eyebrow and said, “If you had contacted me, it would have been much faster.”
How could she involve Suxin in the feathered lineages’ affairs? The Phoenix thought, then mentioned the formation designs.
Suxin scoffed. “They should just return the original design,” she said dismissively. “Send someone to inspect their formations. Anyone who didn’t follow the instructions should be fined.” She didn’t want to get involved in other people’s problems, but seeing the Phoenix’s confused expression, she added, “If you always protect them, they won’t learn. They might make serious mistakes in the future.”
“But that’s how it’s always been done,” the Phoenix said.
“Does that mean it’s right?”
The Phoenix didn’t reply. She didn’t want to continue this conversation. This time, she didn’t rush back. She stayed in Suxin’s cave for two days.
She borrowed Suxin’s alchemy furnace and made a few batches of elixirs. She hadn’t been studying for long, but their appearance and quality were far superior to Suxin’s.
Suxin applauded her, praising her skills, claiming they surpassed even those of the Supreme Palace’s Immortal Monarchs.
The Phoenix smiled and promised to visit again.
Back in Danxue Mountain, the elders were gathered.
Since she had become the Phoenix Sovereign, they no longer used a commanding or critical tone with her, instead adopting a concerned approach. But no matter how their tone changed, their underlying intentions remained the same. She didn’t enjoy listening to them.
Her expression was cold and distant, her eyes sharp, her aura intimidating.
“Do I need to inform you of my interactions with wandering immortals?” she asked.
The elders were relieved. After all, the Phoenix, born from the primordial energy of heaven and earth, was destined to lead them to glory. But they were also anxious. Her rapid growth meant that things might spiral out of control.
She ignored their complex emotions, her gaze seemingly fixed on the documents before her, but she wasn’t actually reading anything.
“Why didn’t you stay longer?” her personal guard asked softly.
She turned to her. “Would that have been acceptable?” she asked.
The guard’s expression stiffened, and she fell silent. The elders of the Five Phoenixes and Three Feathered Birds had become anxious after only two days. How long could the Sovereign stay away from Danxue Mountain?
The Phoenix continued her relationship with Suxin, visiting her whenever she had free time.
She shared her concerns about the feathered lineages, and Suxin advised her to learn to delegate and relax. They had different perspectives and occasionally argued, but they always reconciled quickly.
The Immortal Realm was mostly peaceful.
Until one year, a major event occurred.
“The Heavenly Emperor has abdicated and retreated to the Realm Beyond Heaven,” the Phoenix said.
Suxin wasn’t particularly interested. After all, she was a wandering immortal. Even if the Heavenly Emperor changed ten times, it wouldn’t affect her.
“Among his many children, Tian Yuan wasn’t the most outstanding, but he was the most cunning. The throne could only fall to him.”
Suxin chuckled. She had no qualms about discussing the Heavenly Emperor. “So the Heavenly Court is now ruled by an incompetent fool?”
“Yes,” the Phoenix confirmed, nodding.
“Why don’t you abandon your responsibilities and join me in a carefree life?” Suxin asked. “When the Dao prevails, we emerge. When it doesn’t, we hide. Isn’t that how it goes?”
The Phoenix looked at her. “The feathered lineages are my responsibility,” she said.
“Just because you’re the most powerful among them?”
“I was born from primordial energy, destined to be their leader. I can’t abandon them.”
Suxin didn’t understand. “If you were born from primordial energy, shouldn’t you be free from karmic ties? Why do you have to bear so much?”
The Phoenix couldn’t answer. After a moment of silence, she said, “The feathered lineages’ destiny is tied to mine.”
Suxin didn’t press her. After learning that Feng Chiyue was the Phoenix Sovereign, she had secretly visited Danxue Mountain a few times. She couldn’t see anything worth protecting in those feathered lineages.
After Tian Yuan ascended to the throne, the Immortal Realm subtly changed.
He presented himself as an ambitious and progressive ruler.
It was difficult to say whether he was truly competent, but conflicts with the Demon Realm increased.
He was dissatisfied with the Sui River as the boundary between pure and turbid, seeking to conquer the Demon Abyss and expand their territory, creating unprecedented achievements.
Suxin had initially remained indifferent, but the Phoenix’s visits became less frequent, and she would often leave abruptly.
The Phoenix felt guilty. She considered ending their relationship. Without promises, there would be no disappointment. But as Suxin saw her off, she couldn’t bring herself to say “goodbye.”
She continued visiting whenever she could.
But she noticed that they argued more often, and things that had once seemed insignificant suddenly became important.
She was greedy. She wanted not just mutual understanding and tolerance but complete and unconditional support.
One hundred and fifty years into Tian Yuan’s reign, she visited Suxin, and they argued again.
Suxin said that the feathered lineages had never left their nest to fend for themselves, taking everything for granted.
She also said that they were incapable of learning and would only become traitors.
But she was their Sovereign. She had been taught to prioritize their interests since birth.
This wasn’t their first argument, and neither of them realized it would be their last.
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