GWID Chapter 50

Little Phoenix solemnly entrusted his wish to Little Coal Ball, then treated the small pitch-black round creature to more than ten lianshi fruits, steeling himself to give away more than half of his daily allotment of fifteen pieces — a painful sacrifice.

Xingyi ate them without a shred of guilt and said, “I’m heading back now, big brother. Just wait — your wish will come true tomorrow.”

Little Phoenix grew genuinely expectant. “Alright, I trust you, Little Coal Ball. I’m a phoenix who isn’t quite orthodox, and I don’t know much about phoenix clan customs. Since you say that a black-feathered phoenix’s word spirit is effective, then big brother will take you at your word. That said, if it doesn’t work, big brother won’t blame you. After all, we both only heard about it secondhand.”

Xingyi, however, was certain. “It will work. Just wait and see.”

The little coal ball rubbed his belly against Little Phoenix’s belly, then nudged him under the pillow and picked up a small blanket in his beak to tuck over him. “I’ll be off then — it’s time for your afternoon nap, big brother.”

Little Phoenix’s tiny bead-like eyes filled with warmth. “Little Coal Ball, you’re really sensible. You’ll definitely grow up to be a useful coal ball someday.” The plump little bird never even thought to wonder how a coal ball he’d known for less than a month could already know he had a habit of taking afternoon naps.

The two little birds rubbed bellies once more as a friendly farewell. After watching Little Phoenix fall asleep, Xingyi flapped his wings and slipped back out through the broken hole by the window.

The moment he landed, he resumed his human form.

Xingyi tilted his ear to listen for sounds from inside the room. Little Phoenix’s breathing gradually grew slow and even — he was indeed asleep. The little bird even let out occasional soft snores, the sound curling around several bends, producing a coquettish nasal hum, as though someone were muffled blowing on a short flute.

Xingyi listened and broke into a smile. He left the courtyard outside the bedchamber and stopped by the study to collect a few charts and diagrams, then prepared to make a trip to Fan Tian.

He had been going out frequently of late. Whenever Little Phoenix was around, he almost always brought him along. In the past, he would summon Tanlang, Qisha, and Yue Lao to him; now he sent word ahead via the blue bird and called on them himself.

He still remembered what Little Phoenix had said to him last time — that he was cold and reclusive, that everyone feared him and kept their distance, and that this melodramatic, fussy little plump bird found that very upsetting. From then on, Xingyi made a point of socializing more, so as to appear less solitary and to put Little Phoenix’s mind at ease.

In truth, he did not find solitude to be any great hardship. But since Little Phoenix liked it, he followed his wishes. Little Phoenix was also cheerful whenever he tagged along on visits, and so Xingyi thought this arrangement suited everyone well enough.

He summoned the blue bird and had it notify the Phoenix Ming Zun in advance, then drifted leisurely over on a cloud. He had told Little Phoenix last night that he would be busy today and wouldn’t have time to see Little Coal Ball — that wasn’t entirely a lie. He did have some matters of genuine importance to discuss with the Phoenix Ming Zun, and he also needed to stop by Fan Tian to collect some weapon-forging materials from the Immovable King.

When he arrived at Fan Tian, the Phoenix Ming Zun was in the middle of something and cried out the moment he saw him. “Your Majesty! Your Majesty, you’re doing it again — you send word and then just show up without asking whether I’m free. So, the hopeless Little Yuan Yuan didn’t come this time?”

Xingyi, completely at home, went to the lotus pond to collect dew for brewing tea, and replied, “The hopeless Little Yuan Yuan is sleeping.”

He and Gautama Buddha were old acquaintances, and everywhere he went people showed him the utmost respect and deference. He moved through Fan Tian as though it were uninhabited. By seniority, the Phoenix Ming Zun was not in a position to exchange more than a few words with him in Fan Tian — yet Xingyi happened to get along with him quite well, just as he did with the minor star officials Qisha and Tanlang. He had never been one to stand on ceremony about rank or age.

Since returning from Wangchuan, everyone had noticed that he was coming to Fan Tian more and more frequently, always seeking out the Phoenix Ming Zun for conversation. According to those in the know, it was usually Xingyi who did most of the talking. Those who eavesdropped from a distance could only catch fragments — words like “the mortal realm,” “Little Yuan Yuan,” and “past life” — and all manner of speculation arose that the two must be discussing some tremendously scholarly and abstruse problem of the immortal realm.

He set the list of materials he needed on the table and languidly surveyed the room. “I’ve left the list there. Look into it when you have a moment.”

The Phoenix Ming Zun looked thoroughly harried, apparently in the middle of sorting through a register of some kind. He glanced at the list to acknowledge it. “Fine. If it’s not too much, I should be able to send it to your Fuli Palace within three to five days. These next few days the Phoenix King of the phoenix clan is sending over a dozen young ones to apprentice at Fan Tian, and I have to deal with that — so I won’t deliver it personally.”

Xingyi was watching the tea brazier, but at those words his interest was immediately piqued. “A dozen… young ones?”

The Phoenix Ming Zun nodded. “That’s right.” As soon as he finished speaking, a faint chorus of chirping arose in the distance — growing closer — and a crane spread its wings and came to a stop before them. From its back tumbled more than a dozen plump little golden-red balls, every single one looking exactly like Little Phoenix.

The Phoenix Ming Zun rubbed his temples. “In short — it’s babysitting. Every year they send about a dozen over for me to personally raise and assess. I test their spiritual roots, keep the ones suited to work at Fan Tian, and send the rest back where they came from.”

Xingyi suddenly cut him off. “Do you take black phoenixes here?”

The Phoenix Ming Zun shot him a suspicious look. “Your Majesty, phoenixes have only ever come in golden-red, dark gold, and white. The closer to red the colour, the more powerful — there are no black phoenixes.”

Xingyi said, “No matter — even if there aren’t, there will be soon enough. I need you to go along with me on something: there’s a small black phoenix who will need to be taken in. Apparently this black phoenix is all alone with nowhere to go. Since it’s a little bird from my Fuli Mountain, I think it’s time I arranged a proper path forward for it. But Little Yuan Yuan gets along very well with it, and would surely be reluctant to see it go. Still, you know — Little Yuan Yuan himself is hardly a proper phoenix. He’d probably lead that black phoenix astray. So sending the black phoenix away would really be for the good of both of them. When the time comes, I’ll need you to firmly insist on taking the black phoenix away. That should do it.”

The Phoenix Ming Zun narrowed his eyes. “Pulling a few strings to take in a small black one isn’t beyond me… but something about the way you’re telling this doesn’t quite sit right with me. Also — I’ve been a phoenix for nearly a thousand years, and I’ve genuinely never heard of a black phoenix.”

Xingyi said gravely, “You’re young — of course you wouldn’t have. In ancient times, the black phoenix and the red phoenix were equally revered. As you yourself said, the deeper the colour, the greater the power. The black phoenix is what happens when red reaches its absolute extreme and turns to black — an auspicious omen whose every spoken word comes to pass. They were simply so rare that they died out along with the huang birds. You ought to read more.”

The “young” Phoenix Ming Zun grew somewhat doubtful. “Is that so? I have a feeling you’re making this up.”

Xingyi smiled faintly and said nothing more. Seeing that the tea was ready, he poured himself a cup, took a few slow sips, and rose to take his leave. “I’ll be off. Little Yuan Yuan’s afternoon nap should be ending — I’ll take him out for a walk.”

The Phoenix Ming Zun watched his unhurried figure disappear into the distance and let out a long sigh. “The times have truly changed. Even the Fuli Emperor is out here showing off his affections. Blinding stuff. I suppose the next chapter of The Cold Emperor and His Lovely Little Yuan Yuan should be about a black phoenix disrupting the pair’s romance — that’s bound to stir up another round of heated discussion.”

****

By the time Xingyi returned to the palace, Little Phoenix had just woken from his afternoon nap and was in the courtyard doing his slimming exercises.

Seeing him return, Little Phoenix chirped out a little tune for him as he exercised, managing to carry an actual melody. Xingyi sat to one side and listened. Once he had finished, Xingyi caught him up and set him in his palm, feeding him a few more lianshi fruits.

Little Phoenix hinted at him. “Weijian, today I shared my snacks with Little Coal Ball. Shouldn’t you praise me for that? This kind of sharing-with-friends behaviour deserves praise — and not just praise, but a reward.”

Xingyi knew his every thought inside out. He held him in his palm and headed toward the snow bamboo grove behind the palace. With a tap of his fingertip, several hundred fruits came raining down from the bamboo. “Eat to your heart’s content today — but mind you don’t get indigestion. The rest you can save for another day and invite your friends over for a gathering. Understood?”

Little Phoenix agreed at once — yet by nightfall, he had gotten indigestion all the same. He couldn’t even get his cherry blossom broth down. The entire bird was so stuffed his belly had gone perfectly round, and he could only walk along the wall with his little wings propped against it for support.

Xingyi didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “I told you not to overeat. How did it still come to this? Even someone who hadn’t eaten in eight hundred lifetimes wouldn’t be like you. Foolish.”

He rubbed Little Phoenix’s belly, slowly guiding the qi to help dissolve all the lianshi fruits in his system, converting them into cultivation. Little Phoenix lay sprawled before him with his little wings outstretched, chirping contentedly. “Lianshi fruits can build up cultivation, Weijian. I want to become a very powerful little bird.”

Xingyi poked his belly. “Not afraid of getting fat anymore? ‘Building up cultivation’ — I can see plain as day that you’re just greedy.”

Little Phoenix let out a “hmph”. “You don’t understand, Weijian. This is part of the birthday gift I’m preparing for you.”

Xingyi genuinely could not figure out what connection Little Phoenix stuffing himself had to his own birthday gift, but Little Phoenix looked so earnest and righteous about it that Xingyi played along and pretended to believe him. “Ah.”

Even as he said so, Xingyi privately grew suspicious. This little bird’s appetite was probably far greater than he had originally estimated. The sneaking-food habit had most likely been going on for quite some time and had become rather well-practised. Xingyi took note of it and kept an eye on Little Phoenix’s movements into the night.

That night, sure enough, Little Phoenix stealthily ate three more lianshi fruits, only to be caught red-handed by Xingyi. He drooped his head and confessed, “I’m sorry, Weijian. I didn’t think you’d catch me. My dieting hasn’t been going well lately, and you said you don’t care whether I’m fat or thin — so my willpower hasn’t been very firm either. And you only allow me fifteen lianshi fruits a day, and I get very hungry, so that’s how it ended up like this. This is your fault.”

Xingyi gave him a thorough scolding, kneading and squishing him. “My fault? Getting bolder and bolder, aren’t you, Little Yuan Yuan?”

Little Phoenix chirped and squawked under the scolding, and at last grudgingly admitted his mistake, then sincerely added, “Weijian, I acknowledge my error. I can write you a self-criticism.”

A faint stirring crossed Xingyi’s mind. “A self-criticism? How long are you planning to write?”

Little Phoenix thought it over. “Three thousand… two thousand… one thousand… five hundred characters. Five hundred characters, alright, Weijian? I haven’t written anything in a long time. My hand will ache terribly afterwards, and you’ll feel bad for me — won’t you?”

He lifted his little claw and waved it back and forth in front of Xingyi’s face. Xingyi mimicked his manner from the day before and rapped him on his small head with measured gravity. “Very well. Write it properly. Reflect sincerely. Understood?”

This plump little bird had made him write a self-criticism, and had even beaten him soundly over the head for drawing those cheeky little bird pictures. A debt like that is not something a gentleman lets go.

Little Phoenix immediately dashed off to the study, calling out, “Weijian, I promise I’ll write it very quickly! I’ll definitely reflect sincerely! I am a good little bird who reflects sincerely!”

It was past the hour they should have been asleep, but Xingyi made an exception and waited for Little Phoenix. He finished washing up, lay down, and opened a new volume that Yue Lao had sent over a few days ago: An Exclusive Interview with Little Yuan Yuan: The Emperor’s Cherished One. Yet before he had even turned a single page, the plump little bird came rolling in from the study.

Xingyi looked up at him. “Surely it hasn’t been half an incense stick’s worth of time? You wrote that quickly? You’re so practised at writing self-criticisms too — who taught you?”

Little Phoenix perched cheerfully on his chest and set down the sheet of paper he had been carrying in his beak, gesturing for him to look.

Xingyi picked up the paper. He took one glance and drew a slow, deep breath.

Little Phoenix watched him with eager anticipation. “See — I wrote it well, didn’t I? Is the attitude of remorse not sincere enough? Weijian, just forget about me sneaking those fruits, won’t you.”

At the top of the page were the words: “A Sincere Self-Criticism: I should not have followed the example of other little birds and sneaked fruit…” The phrasing and wording were strikingly familiar — it was unmistakably the very self-criticism that Xingyi himself had racked his brain to write just the day before.