Unseen Immortal of Three Hundred Years - Chap 55
The two young boys only realized there was another person present when they ran up close. They both cast a glance at Xiao Fuxuan, then, recognizing their master, quickly shrank back behind Wu Xingxue, hiding behind his robe.
Wu Xingxue felt like he had stumbled upon a ghost.
Xiao Fuxuan turned his head, ignoring the babbling boys, and looked straight at him.
Wu Xingxue closed his eyes for a moment.
This was the first time in his life he was so reluctant to reveal his identity.
Maybe I should just make up a name.
Wu Xingxue thought, ready to give up.
After all, this reclusive celestial being likely wouldn’t remember the specifics of who’s who in Xian Du. Even if he had heard of someone, he wouldn’t pay it much mind, let alone match a name to a face.
That’s the plan.
Just as he was about to speak, he saw Xiao Fuxuan’s lips slightly move, and a deep, low voice emerged, “I have no quarrel with the Spirit King. Why would someone harm me?”
Wu Xingxue: “”
Well, fuck, can’t make up anything now.
Hearing this, the two young boys poked their heads out from behind him, their eyes wide with astonishment. Then, looking at Wu Xingxue, they whispered, “Sir, he’s that celestial being from the heavens, did we slip up?”
Wu Xingxue: “”
He tugged at the boys’ hair buns and asked ominously, “Do you two think you’re whispering?”
The boys, dumbfounded, still didn’t grasp the capabilities of Xian Du’s inhabitants. What they considered a “whisper” was practically loud plotting in front of a distinguished celestial being.
The boys: “Isn’t it quiet?”
Wu Xingxue couldn’t help but laugh.
Seeing him laugh, the boys, probably out of fear, silently withdrew their heads.
Wu Xingxue kept that smile, then looked up again to meet Xiao Fuxuan’s gaze.
“About that,” the Spirit King finally said, explaining, “I had just come from Sang Feng, who clung to me, crying for a long while. I couldn’t take it anymore, and to get away, I blurted out that line, just a joke, really.”
He figured, everyone knew how the Ritual Pavilion wore people down. Once Sang Feng was mentioned, Xiao Fuxuan would surely understand the situation, saving further explanation.
But after hearing this, the celestial being gave him a look and said gravely, “Who is Sang Feng?”
Wu Xingxue was taken aback. “You don’t know Sang Feng?”
Xiao Fuxuan: “Should I?”
Wu Xingxue reminded him, “The Ritual Pavilion, the one who sends out the young celestial messengers.”
Upon hearing this, Xiao Fuxuan’s expression instantly fell.
He didn’t really show much emotion, but his immediate understanding at the mention of the young messengers, as if he had suffered greatly from them, seemed particularly amusing to Wu Xingxue.
“It seems the celestial being has been through a lot,” Wu Xingxue remarked.
He couldn’t hide the amusement in his eyes, and as Xiao Fuxuan looked down at him, he spoke deeply, “It seems the Spirit King’s calamity is to have the Ritual Pavilion torment me once more.”
Wu Xingxue: “”
Who said the celestial being was taciturn and valued his words like gold?
He flatly denied, “Of course not.”
Xiao Fuxuan: “Then what is it?”
The Spirit King internally “hmm”ed, unable to concoct a continuation, and finally, with a smile in his eyes, said, “Like I said, it was just a joke, not to be taken seriously. If the Ritual Pavilion does end up causing you trouble, you can always come to me to settle the account later.”
With a slight gesture of his fingers held behind him, the two young boys were swept forward by an unnamed breeze.
The boys were dumbfounded, “”
Before they could voice their confusion, Wu Xingxue nudged the back of their heads, pushing them forward.
Over the past couple of days, the boys had developed a conditioned reflex; a poke at the back of the head meant it was time to bid farewell. Instantly, the two little ones tilted their heads back and crisply said to Xiao Fuxuan, “We presume the gentleman is busy, and our master also has matters to attend to, so we won’t take up more of your time, farewell.”
The celestial being: “”
As Wu Xingxue turned to leave, the memory of that indescribable expression on the celestial being’s face made him burst into laughter.
This was the first time he had laughed like this in the three days since he had returned from the mortal realm.
Dressed in plain clothes that rustled with each step, he walked towards the direction of the nurturing spring breeze. His snow robe, adorned with silver patterns, swept behind him, occasionally revealing silver boots that blended seamlessly with the cloud and mist stones of Xian Du.
The young boys were spellbound, momentarily forgetting the trouble they had caused. They followed him, one after the other, their curiosity piqued, “Master.”
Wu Xingxue responded with a languid “hmm.”
The young boy asked, “Do you have a grudge against Lord Tianxu?”
Wu Xingxue replied, “How could I not?”
“Then, are you on good terms with Lord Tianxu?”
“Not really. First time meeting him.”
“Ah?”
“What’s with that ‘ah’?”
As he continued walking, Wu Xingxue realized that his interaction with Xiao Fuxuan lacked the usual formalities and small talk, and they hadn’t even introduced themselves properly. It indeed didn’t seem like a first meeting, which explained the boy’s curiosity.
But what the boy brought up next was something else, “Did you know who he was the first time you saw him?”
Wu Xingxue said, “Easy to recognize. The character ‘granted’ on the side of his neck hasn’t faded yet, and the word ‘exempt’ is on his sword.”
The boy let out an “oh” and then had another question, “Then how did he know who you were? You didn’t have your sword with you.”
Wu Xingxue paused in his steps.
Indeed, he wasn’t wearing his usual mask, his spirit sword wasn’t hanging at his waist, and there were no characters on his neck. How could he be so certain of his identity?
He pondered for a moment, then turned back.
By now, the white jade steps and the spiritual platform were far behind, leaving only distant shadows. He saw Xiao Fuxuan’s tall figure passing the last few steps, disappearing into the mist.
Wu Xingxue had thought that a trivial joke would be the end of it and that his relationship with Xiao Fuxuan wouldn’t be much different from others in Xian Du.
He remembered their past encounters well enough for himself and didn’t want the other to recall those times, naturally not wanting to appear overly friendly because of it.
The majestic Spirit King was known for his laziness. He enjoyed laughter and teasing others, yet he was never truly warm.
Oddly enough, a rumor spread through Xian Du suggesting that there was something special between Lord Tianxu and the Spirit King.
Wu Xingxue was utterly baffled when he heard this.
He had intended to go out that day but was drawn back by Sang, the old matron of the Ritual Pavilion.
She brought wine selected from the pool and shared the rumors with him, leaving Wu Xingxue utterly confused. “Why would our relationship be considered special? Clarify what you mean.”
Sang explained, “It’s about the day you visited our pavilion. Someone saw you and Lord Tianxu talking on the white jade steps in front of the spiritual platform for quite a while.”
Wu Xingxue asked, “And then?”
Sang replied, “There’s no ‘and then.'”
Wu Xingxue was perplexed. “Then how did these rumors start?”
Sang patiently explained, “Lord Tianxu is known for being sparing with his words. To have a long conversation with him is rare, and it’s said that he spoke several sentences that day.”
The Spirit King thought to himself, “What nonsense.”
Annoyed, he said, “Do you usually measure relationships by the number of sentences exchanged? More words mean a better relationship, fewer words mean a worse one? By that logic, my closest relationship would be with the spiritual platform and the heavenly way.”
Sang was taken aback, as most immortals held a mix of respect, fear, and caution towards the heavenly way and wouldn’t casually mention it. After some hesitation, Sang replied, “Please don’t joke about that.”
After a pause, addressing Wu Xingxue’s initial question, Sang added, “Of course, we don’t measure relationships by the amount of conversation. It’s more about how often one visits each other’s palaces and mansions.”
Wu Xingxue summarized, “So, dropping by for visits.”
Sang thought it made sense and agreed, “Exactly, visiting without a specific reason indicates closeness.”
Wu Xingxue responded with an “oh” and joked, “Then you’re closer to me than Lord Tianxu.”
After saying this, he paused for a moment, idly spinning the wine cup on the table.
Although he was smiling, a complex mixture of emotions briefly passed through his heart—perhaps a blend of contemplation and regret.
The feeling was fleeting.
Wu Xingxue drank from his cup, jokingly saying, “At least I’ve been to your pavilion. As for Lord Tianxu, I don’t even know where he lives.”
Sang, a bit stunned, clinked glasses with him and downed his drink, saying, “Our pavilion, if nothing else, knows more about the abodes of all immortals than anyone else. We record these things daily. Lord Tianxu lives in a place called ‘Beneath the Southern Window,’ quite far from here.”
“You were secluded in your palace, meditating for a few years, so you might not be aware. There was a period in Xian Du when the spiritual energy was extremely unbalanced, resulting in two vortexes.”
Wu Xingxue, whose senses had dulled during his seclusion, was hearing about this for the first time. “What do you mean by two vortexes?”
Sang explained, “They are points where the densest and weakest spiritual energies converge, like two whirlpools in the sea. Dream and I used this term for convenience, and it stuck. You’d know the location of the densest point—it’s inevitably the spiritual platform, the connection to the heavenly way. As for the weakest point…”
Sang paused, and Wu Xingxue softly said, “Beneath the Southern Window.”
Sang nodded, “Correct, that’s the place.”
Wu Xingxue furrowed his brows, “Does he know?”
Sang Feng replied, “Of course, he chose the place himself.”
“When Tianxiu was summoned, it was during the days when that spot was most conspicuous. It’s said that anyone passing by could see that place, dark as pitch, with malevolent energy piercing the sky. Hence, that area is always deserted,” Sang Feng explained. “There’s a saying among the people, ‘fight poison with poison, stop killing with killing.’ It’s believed that such places need to be subdued by someone with even heavier malevolent energy.”
But how many immortals ascending normally would carry malevolent energy? Let alone enough to counteract that spot.
“If the esteemed ones from Lingtai, like the celestial chief Hua Xin, were to suppress it, it wouldn’t be impossible. It would work for a while. But what about after a few days, months, or years and decades? Any immortal would be worn down by the malevolent energy. No one could stay there long-term.”
Sang Feng paused, then added, “But Tianxiu can.”
He lowered his voice, “The first time I saw Tianxiu, the malevolent energy on him was truly intense, so intense that I doubted I was looking at an immortal. He seemed more like someone who had walked out of a sea of corpses, sword in hand.”
Sang Feng felt this wasn’t a nice thing to say and didn’t like speaking ill of others behind their backs, so after hesitating for a long time, he swallowed those words.
But even without saying it, Wu Xingxue could more or less guess his meaning.
“Truly using malevolence to suppress malevolence, ever since Tianxiu took up residence there, that place has become clearer. Except for some cold fog, there’s no trace of its once dark and oppressive nature.”
Sang Feng gestured with his hands, “His residence under the south window perfectly balances Lingtai, each anchoring one spot, stabilizing the entire celestial city. Without him, who knows how many years the city would last; it might collapse any day, bringing disaster to Taiyin Mountain and the Celestial Tower below, causing calamity to the mortal realm.”
Wu Xingxue listened without much comment.
When he heard Sang Feng murmur, “Don’t know why an immortal has such heavy malevolent energy,” he was even more lost in thought.
Others might not know, but he was very clear—such malevolent energy only belonged to those who had been generals for several lifetimes, who had died on the battlefield, their swords claiming countless souls.
He not only knew, but he had also seen it with his own eyes.
He had seen how Xiao Fuxuan in his previous life, sword in hand, walked through a wilderness littered with corpses. Even now, he could still smell that scent.
Strangely, amidst the blood-soaked general, he didn’t smell blood. It’s hard to describe that scent, but the moment he smelled it, it always reminded him of cold iron and winter.
“My lord,” Sang Feng suddenly spoke, “Your patience today is exceptionally good.”
Wu Xingxue snapped back to reality, retracting his gaze from the window.
Setting down the cup between his fingers, he said irritably, “What now, am I usually not patient enough?”
After a moment’s thought, Sang Feng said, “You’ve never let me speak at such length before.”
It wasn’t that he had never allowed others to speak
So much, but rather, he seldom asked questions in the past, so naturally, others wouldn’t go on at length. Everything was always to the point.
Wu Xingxue swirled the rim of his cup, remaining silent.
When people mention Xiao Fuxuan, he indeed takes an extra glance and listens a bit more. But he never shows it, not even the naive boys who follow him day and night have noticed, let alone today when Sang Feng unintentionally hinted at it.
Wu Xingxue himself was also stunned for a moment.
But then he thought it was quite normal, given their history. He said to Sang Feng, “After all, he’s a Celestial, and hearing you all talk about him, I’ve grown a bit curious.”
Sang Feng nodded, thinking it made sense.
What Sang Feng didn’t know was that that night, the “slightly curious” Spirit King didn’t rest but instead went out in light clothing.
The two boys following him curiously asked, “My lord, where are we going?”
Their lord replied indifferently, “Just for a walk.”
The boys went “Oh.”
But this casual stroll took them across most of the Celestial City. And it seemed their lord knew exactly where he was going, it wasn’t casual at all.
It wasn’t until Wu Xingxue stopped by a jade bridge, looking across a winding celestial river at a palace, that the boys realized their journey had a purpose.
“My lord, what’s that place?” The boys, not understanding, followed his gaze and shivered quietly, “It looks so dark over there.”
Wu Xingxue asked, “Can you two keep your mouths shut?”
The boys pursed their lips and made a sound, indicating they could.
Wu Xingxue smiled, then resumed his composure and whispered, “That palace is called ‘Under the Southern Window.'”
He didn’t know if Xiao Fuxuan chose the name or why he would choose such a name.
Wu Xingxue had never passed by here before, so he never knew it could be so dark at night, almost uncharacteristically dark for the Celestial City.
Upon closer inspection, there were lights in the palace, but they were shrouded in a grey, cold fog, making the light appear faint from afar.
Sang Feng mentioned that this place had improved a lot over the past two years. So it was hard to imagine what it was like when the Celestial first moved in.
It must have been very desolate.
The next morning, just as Sang Feng arrived at the Ritual Pavilion, he found a figure standing in front of it, tall and elegant.
Sang Feng rubbed his eyes and after a long while said, “Spirit King, why are you standing here?”
He opened his mouth, calculating the time, and couldn’t figure out why the Spirit King, who wasn’t one to socialize, would be waiting at the Pavilion’s door at this time.
The entire day felt like a dream to Sang Feng.
It was one thing for the Spirit King to come and wait at the Pavilion, perhaps there was an urgent matter.
But after welcoming the Spirit King and chatting for most of the day, Sang Feng couldn’t detect any hint of “urgent matters.” It was purely casual conversation.
Sang Feng felt both honored and pinched his own thigh, feeling something was off.
After two pots of wine, all sense of oddity was forgotten, leaving only the conversation.
Sang Feng, with his motherly nature and the Pavilion’s role in managing miscellaneous affairs, could talk endlessly. With just a little prompting, he could steer the conversation in any desired direction.
When Sang Feng mentioned “Under the Southern Window,” Wu Xingxue, holding his wine cup, smiled and thought to himself, “Finally, we’re on track, it almost killed me.”
Following Sang Feng’s lead, he casually mentioned, “So Tianxiu lives in such a cursed place, where no one goes on regular days, and there’s not a second breathing soul in the mansion. You guys once tried to shove a boy there, but it failed, and that was that.”
Sang Feng remained silent.
Though it was the truth, for some reason, he didn’t dare to agree, as if doing so would make it the responsibility of his Ritual Pavilion.
After a while, he vaguely hummed in agreement, “What can be done about Tianxiu’s temperament? I’m out of ideas.”
Wu Xingxue said irritably, “I told you no, but you still nagged me several times, telling me to give it a try.”
Sang Feng replied, “I did try. I even risked having Menggu give it a shot.”
Wu Xingxue asked, “Oh? How so?”
Scratching his face and grimacing as if in pain, Sang Feng said, “I had Menggu try using her charms.”
Wu Xingxue fell silent.
The Spirit King did not speak, but Sang Feng added, “Then Menggu told me, if I ever come up with such a deadly bad idea again, she’d slaughter me alive.”
“Do all those boys look the same to you?” the Spirit King suddenly asked.
He actually wanted to say “Are they all so by-the-book?” but held back for Sang Feng’s sake.
Oblivious, Sang Feng nodded, “Yes, they are all very sensible.”
The Spirit King said, “Then bring a few to me tomorrow.”
Sang Feng perked up, “Why? Does the Spirit King intend to take those boys again?”
“Not take them.” The Spirit King was adamant, then added, “I’ll adjust them a bit, then you can send them to Tianxiu again.”
Sang Feng was very skeptical, “Will that work?”
As it turned out, it really did work.
In just two days, the Ritual Pavilion received a letter full of praise, clearly written by someone in high spirits.
Summarizing the letter, it essentially said:
“I took those twelve boys back, and as you instructed, I sent them to the outer courtyard beneath the south window while Tianxiu was away, and then I ran. I waited at the Ritual Pavilion for two days, and indeed, the boys weren’t sent back. If it had been like before, the moment Tianxiu returned to the palace, it wouldn’t have taken the time it takes to drink a cup of tea before those boys would have lined up and returned obediently. Menggu was stunned; it was the first time I saw that expression on her face. How did you manage it?”
After the boy finished reading the letter aloud, he looked up and asked, “Sir, shall we reply?”
Wu Xingxue said, “No need, as long as it’s done.”
The boy then asked, “So how did you manage it?”
Without giving anything away, the adult said, “Guess.”
Before the boys had a chance to guess, the answer came knocking.
That night, Wu Xingxue was leaning against the couch, idly crumpling paper balls to make some fun, when suddenly he heard a boy running in, saying, “Sir, there’s someone outside the mansion.”
Wu Xingxue was startled.
Normally, if there was someone outside the Zuo Chunfeng gate, he would definitely feel it. It’s not easy for the immortals of Xian Du to move silently under his watch, even if he was distracted and not concentrating.
“Who is it?” Wu Xingxue stood up straight.
Before the boy could answer, he felt a breeze as his master, the Spirit King, vanished before his eyes, only to appear outside in the courtyard.
Wu Xingxue, blending almost completely with the night mist, moved from the window to the outer courtyard gate in an instant.
He glanced outside.
The Zuo Chunfeng gate was adorned with long strings of lights, resembling those at the Luohua Platform market, bright and lively. The lights intertwined, forming a vibrant scene.
A tall figure leaned against the wall, holding a sword, standing in the light, looking down as if waiting for the boy to announce him.
It was Tianxiu’s immortal, Xiao Fuxuan.
Wu Xingxue was taken aback, “Why are you here?”
It was rare for anyone to visit Zuo Chunfeng, especially at this hour, and even more so for the reclusive Tianxiu immortal, Xiao Fuxuan.
Without answering, Xiao Fuxuan glanced at him, then tapped his sword’s scabbard lightly against the wall, and said quietly, “Come out.”
Wu Xingxue, puzzled, followed his gaze.
After Xiao Fuxuan tapped the wall, a group of boys, shorter than Wu Xingxue’s thighs, walked out from the corner, heads down, forming a long line, and slowly gathered in front of Wu Xingxue.
Xiao Fuxuan said calmly, “Look familiar?”
Wu Xingxue was silent.
Familiar indeed.
Without counting, Wu Xingxue knew there were exactly twelve boys, all sent by the Ritual Pavilion to Xiao Fuxuan. He had tampered with them slightly, so they were naturally familiar.
The Spirit King thought, “This isn’t good. This doesn’t look like a friendly visit.”
Sure enough, Tianxiu gestured to the boys and said gravely, “Someone said that if the Ritual Pavilion really found me, it wouldn’t be too late to settle accounts then.”
“I just returned to Xian Du after handling some matters.” He was still wrapped in the chill from the mortal realm, and as he straightened up from the wall, he moved the long lantern aside and said softly, “Now that I’m back to settle accounts, is it too late?”
