Long Yin’s shock was already beyond the reach of words. Hearing that, his very first reaction was…
[How… how many seeds are we talking about?!]
The feeling was like this: yesterday, your spouse still had a frosty face and wouldn’t let you touch them; today, out of nowhere, a whole bunch of “children” suddenly appeared! If it were just one, that would be pure joy, but when a whole group turns up at once, no one could possibly take it in stride!
The dignified Heavenly Dao, because of a single sentence from Feng Qingyun, abruptly froze in place, his mind filling with countless chaotic, disordered thoughts.
Not far away, within the Imperial Advisor’s courtyard, the old man himself sat silently at the stone table. After a long while, he poured himself a cup of tea. As he drank, his gaze lingered on the rose seeds laid out on the tabletop, as though hesitating.
No one knew when he would make up his mind. No one knew when he would leave. Everything was unknown, and therefore, everything was urgent.
Seeing that Long Yin had gone utterly still, as if lost in some kind of daze, Feng Qingyun clenched his teeth. Unable to endure it any longer, he released a single tendril of his true form. From Long Yin’s perspective, he could clearly see that the roses on the vine had withered at some unknown point. Where blossoms once filled the branches, red fruits now hung densely in their place. Long Yin snapped back to himself at once, instantly understanding why Feng Qingyun had suddenly imposed a one-month “no touching” ban on him not long ago.
At the same time, another memory surfaced. In his previous life, when he was on the brink of death, he had once joked during the collapse of heaven, asking Feng Qingyun whether his flowers could bear fruit after blooming, and whether touching them would feel any different.
It had only ever been a joke, yet fate, it seemed, enjoyed playing jokes of its own. After all the twists and turns, everything now had its answer.
Long Yin stared unblinking at the fruits for a long while, unmoving.
Feng Qingyun couldn’t see Long Yin, nor could he see his own true form. He could only brace his body, which felt as though it were about to smoke, and grit his teeth as he urged him inwardly.
[…Hurry up!]
Long Yin, flustered, reached out and lightly touched one of the fruits. Feng Qingyun’s whole body trembled, and Long Yin immediately stopped.
[Does it hurt?]
[It doesn’t hurt,] Feng Qingyun replied. [Just pinch it. The seeds are inside the fruit; squeeze, and they’ll come out.]
He said it lightly, but Long Yin paused, his heart tightening. After all, these were fruits growing from Feng Qingyun’s own body. How could he bear to crush them so roughly?!
What was more, Feng Qingyun had said it himself…
They were born for him.
To have him personally crush the fruits, extract the seeds within, and replace those on the stone table… only belatedly did a strange, sour feeling well up from the bottom of Long Yin’s heart, and he couldn’t help but say to Feng Qingyun…
[But these are our children!]
Feng Qingyun froze, then flushed scarlet.
[…What are you thinking?! What children?! These seeds will only grow more vines! I already told you, I can’t give birth!!!]
Long Yin was taken aback, an inexplicable sense of regret flickering through him. Humiliated by his misunderstanding, Feng Qingyun took a deep breath. Reaching out, he grabbed the fruit closest to him and squeezed hard. A seed identical to those on the distant stone table was forced out at once.
The intense stimulation nearly made him black out. His strength gave out immediately, and he collapsed straight into Long Yin’s arms. Panting, he found Long Yin’s right hand and shoved the freshly squeezed, still sticky seed into his palm.
[See? It doesn’t hurt! Don’t just stand there, hurry…!]
Long Yin snapped fully back to himself and hurriedly caught him. Seeing that Feng Qingyun truly wasn’t in pain, only overwhelmed by the intensity, he finally steeled himself. One by one, he grasped the fruits, squeezing each carefully and extracting the seeds from the flesh.
Feng Qingyun hadn’t lied. Fully ripened seeds were meant to fall away naturally, so it truly didn’t hurt at all. But pain or no pain, the sensation of the seeds being pressed out of the fruit was like scraping nectar from a flower’s stamen with one’s fingernails; an indescribable stimulation that far exceeded everything Feng Qingyun had ever experienced combined.
Just like flowering, it was his first time ever bearing fruit. He couldn’t help but feel ashamed, which was why he had stubbornly refused to tell anyone. And as it turned out, not telling Long Yin had been the right choice!
After squeezing out only a few seeds, that bastard, through reading his thoughts and watching his expressions, shifted from initial concern to deliberate mischief once he realized Feng Qingyun could endure it.
Therefore, he deliberately dragged things out. Feng Qingyun was tormented until his eyes brimmed with tears, until the urging in his heart gradually turned into broken curses. Yet on the surface, he couldn’t help clinging to Long Yin’s shoulder, gasping uncontrollably, the contrast making one’s throat run dry.
After who knew how long, that bastard finally squeezed out a handful of seeds, still slick with juice. Feng Qingyun couldn’t see what the seeds looked like, and he had no energy to spare regardless. He simply leaned against Long Yin’s shoulder and closed his eyes.
By the time he finally caught his breath and looked up again, he saw that the Imperial Advisor had just made his decision and was about to return inside. Feng Qingyun’s heart leapt into his throat, but Long Yin reacted faster. With a flick of his hand, a wisp of demonic Qi drifted out, freezing the poor Imperial Advisor in place on the spot.
Feng Qingyun, legs weak, was helped out from the corner by Long Yin. The two moved to the stone table and replaced all of the rose seeds in the Imperial Advisor’s hand with Feng Qingyun’s own.
As for Feng Qingyun, he swiftly clenched his palm, crushing the immortal’s artificially cultivated seeds. Long Yin turned to look at him, asking, [Can he tell the seeds were swapped?]
[He can’t,] Feng Qingyun shook his head. [He obtained broken branches of mine from Mu Hanyang and used immortal techniques to force-grow those seeds. They’re no different from the ones I bore myself. The only difference is who they obey.]
Long Yin stared at him without blinking.
[You bore them yourself.]
[Wha…?!] Feng Qingyun hadn’t reacted at first. When he realized what Long Yin meant, he snapped in embarrassment and anger. [What do you mean, I ‘bore them myself’?! Shut up!]
With that, he flicked his sleeve and stormed off. Long Yin, suppressing his laughter, hurried after him. By the time they returned from the Imperial Advisor’s residence to the marquis’s estate, it was already deep into the night. Even so, they still encountered several cultivators concealing their presence at the gate, clearly sent by the Imperial Advisor to keep watch.
By all logic, Yue Jinshu’s act should have wrapped up perfectly by now. Yet with the entire estate asleep, only theirroom was still lit. By candlelight, one could vaguely see someone bracing a hand against the window frame. Indistinct voices drifted out…
“I can’t take it anymore… stop… you’re overstepping!”
“What are you saying, Master? How could a Master say they can’t take it? Be good. Open your mouth.”
“…”
The watching cultivators felt their ears burn. One of them muttered softly, “Why isn’t it over yet?!”
“Who knows… no wonder that guard was so high-handed at the city gate today. Turns out he’s good in bed. Tsk tsk… Pan, Lü, Deng, Xiao, Xian… no wonder ‘Donkey’ ranks second1!”
Feng Qingyun: “……”
Long Yin feigned surprise. [Why is the Little Palace Master blushing? What does that mean? This Lord doesn’t understand at all.]
Feng Qingyun cursed inwardly.
[Don’t you dare play innocent at a time like this!]
After cursing him out, he grabbed Long Yin and dragged him straight into the estate, returning to the room Yue Jinshu had arranged for them. Whatever spell Yue Jinshu had used, the moment they entered, the illusion began to fade. From the outside, it looked as though everything had finally ended, and even the candlelight went out.
The watchers yawned, chatted a bit more, and left.
Only then did Feng Qingyun let go of Long Yin as his own figure naturally reappeared. Long Yin, however, remained transparent, with no intention whatsoever of dispelling the spell. That bastard didn’t need to say a word, as Feng Qingyun knew exactly what he was thinking. Reaching out with exquisite precision, he grabbed his ear and snapped, “Turn back! Now!”
“Alright, alright,” Long Yin said with a laugh. “Little Palace Master, have mercy…”
Feng Qingyun had just been about to let go when the man fully manifested before him and immediately followed up with…
“Careful not to disturb your pregnancy.”
Feng Qingyun: “……”
A flicker of pale-blue sword Qi flashed across his fingertips. He lifted his eyes coldly to look at Long Yin, saying, “If you’re so eager to return to Heaven, I can grant your wish right now.”
Long Yin instantly raised both hands in surrender, but what came out of his mouth was: “Mercy, Little Palace Master! This Lord still has a delicate wife and so many young children at home, truly can’t afford to die!”
Seeing his utterly spineless expression, Feng Qingyun almost laughed. He shot him a glare, but the sword Qi at his fingertips immediately dissipated. As for Long Yin, though he forcibly kept the corners of his mouth from lifting, he still caught sight of that rare leniency and instantly climbed up the pole, continuing, “Good Palace Master, please tell me, aside from that vine just now, which other vines have borne fruit?”
Feng Qingyun’s face heated. Leaning on the blood deed to dodge the question, he said, “Don’t worry about it…” But Long Yin only wrapped an arm around him and sat him down on the bed. He lowered his head and kissed him twice, kissing the struggling person into compliance before turning the question back on him.
“Then how long does it take to bear fruit? Can this Lord know?”
With reddened ears, Feng Qingyun replied, “…One month.”
Long Yin immediately understood. “No wonder you wouldn’t let me touch you. Turns out you were pregnant!”
“I already said that’s not it!” Feng Qingyun shoved him in embarrassment and anger. “Flowering and fruiting are natural phenomena!”
Raising a brow, Long Yin seized the moment Feng Qingyun hadn’t yet reacted and leaned right in close, asking, “If it’s a natural phenomenon, then why won’t you let me see?”
Feng Qingyun’s breath caught. After locking eyes with him at such close range for three seconds, he pressed his lips together, looked away, and muttered softly, “Fallen flowers and withered branches… what’s there to look at?”
Long Yin hadn’t realized he thought that way at all. He froze for a moment, then snapped back and immediately grabbed Feng Qingyun by the waist, lifting him up and seating him firmly on his own thigh.
“How is that not worth looking at? Who dares say it isn’t beautiful?”
“I say it isn’t,” Feng Qingyun still refused to look at him. “…Some flowers have withered without bearing fruit. Some have only half-withered and are still shedding petals. Mixed together like that, it can’t possibly look good.”
Long Yin clicked his tongue. “I’m warning you, fellow cultivator, don’t think you can casually insult my Dao companion just because you’re good-looking.”
Feng Qingyun couldn’t help laughing at being coaxed like that. He finally turned his head to look at him, asking, “You don’t even have a title, what Dao companion?”
Holding him, Long Yin laughed, simply answering, “That depends on whether my Master is willing to bestow me with one.”
That single word, master, left Feng Qingyun completely stunned. After a long pause, he suddenly released his main vine without saying a word.
Sure enough, a few roses hung sparsely from it. In the remaining places, some new fruits had formed; those fruits carried a rosy-red hue within their pinkness, looking tender compared to the earlier fully ripened ones.
Raising a brow, Long Yin couldn’t resist reaching out and touching one of the fruits, but the next second, a vine lashed across his face.
It didn’t hurt; there wasn’t even much of a sound, but both of them froze, clearly reminded of the first time Feng Qingyun had ever released his flowers. Under the candlelight, Long Yin recovered first and burst out laughing. “So, got hit back then, still getting hit now. My heart’s already been whipped to pieces by the Little Palace Master.”
Feng Qingyun couldn’t help laughing as well, though he said, “Why don’t you ask yourself why you haven’t improved at all?”
With all the heavy, ominous futures hanging over them, it had been a long time since they’d shared such a quiet, ordinary warmth. Yet some moments were only ordinary in the moment. It’s only much later that one realizes just how sweet everything reflected beneath that honey-colored candlelight truly was.
With one arm around Feng Qingyun and the other hooked around the vine, Long Yin no longer touched the fruit itself but merely stroked the vine near it slowly.
“It’s just bearing fruit…” he mumbled, “why can’t this Lord touch it?”
But the way he said can’t touch was unmistakably double-edged, and Feng Qingyun’s gaze drifted, unwilling to answer. Seeing that, Long Yin leaned in close, pressing a hand against the fruit. “If the Little Palace Master doesn’t speak,” he threatened, “this Lord will pinch it.”
“…Because it can’t handle stimulation,” Feng Qingyun finally said. “Flowers are meant to wither… once stimulated, the petals will fall. It won’t look good.”
He was still hung up on the image of himself losing petals.
“How is falling not beautiful?” Long Yin kissed his lips lightly. “Besides, didn’t you say, ‘at the season of falling flowers, we’ll meet again’. What a wonderful omen.”
However, Feng Qingyun laughed at his literary illiteracy, asking, “What kind of good omen is that? Read a book sometimes… You still dare to call yourself the Heavenly Dao?”
But after laughing, his heart sank.
At the height of spring’s beauty, we meet again as flowers fall…
That really wasn’t an auspicious line at all. It only made him think, after his rebirth, not long after meeting Long Yin again, he’d bloomed under the stimulation of that man’s blood. He had thought they’d already walked through a long, long stretch of time together. Yet with a single turn of the head, he realized that short span had only been enough for a rose to go from blooming to wilting.
Some people arrive with a roar, and when they leave, they can never do so quietly.
Whether his falling flowers were beautiful or not was only an excuse. What he truly disliked was the imagery of flowers falling. After all, he had met his man in the season of bloom, and when the flowers fell, perhaps the man would have to leave as well.
Long Yin heard the meaning beneath his words and saw his low spirits, but didn’t expose them. Instead, he merely rested his forehead gently against Feng Qingyun’s and said softly, “Don’t change the subject, Little Palace Master. We already have children, yet you still owe this Lord a proper title. There hasn’t even been a Dao-companion ceremony…” He paused, then added with feigned grievance, “You’re not planning to keep the child and ditch the father, are you?!”
Feng Qingyun couldn’t help curling his lips into a smile. He said nothing. Instead, he quietly picked through his fruits, finally choosing the plumpest one and gently plucking it free. Placing it into Long Yin’s hand, he said softly, “The title you want, open it and see.”
Long Yin carefully peeled back the thin layer of fruit flesh, only to see revealed within it a golden rose seed, almost identical to the one from back then.
He froze on the spot.
Just as Long Yin had once put a dragon scale around Feng Qingyun’s neck, Feng Qingyun, in silence, took that seed from his hand. With a light pinch of his fingers, he drew out a wisp of demonic Qi, used it as a thread, passed it through the seed, and gently placed it around Long Yin’s neck.
The golden seed gleamed beneath the candlelight, like a shard of golden hope.
“Tied you down,” Feng Qingyun murmured, resting his forehead against Long Yin’s. “As for the Dao-companion ceremony I owe you, once the dust settles and the world is at peace, I’ll give it to you then.”
It was like a promise left behind for the two of them.
Long Yin smiled at that and lowered his head to kiss him gently. “This Lord can wait…” he said, “just make sure you really intend to marry me, Little Palace Master. No going back on your word.”
Under the candlelight, Feng Qingyun looked at him with a smile. After a long moment, he softly dropped a line that struck straight into Long Yin’s heart.
“…I love you this much. How could I go back on it?”
Long Yin’s breathing stalled. He lifted Feng Qingyun’s chin and kissed him again, murmuring between breaths, “I love you too. No one…”
The rest of his words dissolved into the sound of lips and teeth entwining, heard by Feng Qingyun alone.
Under all of heaven, no one loves you more than I do, my Little Rose.
Beneath the candlelight, the atmosphere grew thick and sweet. But just as things followed their natural course and Long Yin reached to remove Feng Qingyun’s clothes, a hand immediately pressed against his mouth.
“No matter how beautifully you talk,” Feng Qingyun said with trembling lashes and a soft laugh, fingers resting against his lips, “one month means one month! Not a day less.”
Long Yin: “……”
Smiling, Feng Qingyun patted his cheek, and Long Yin suddenly said, “Could it be that the Little Palace Master has grown tired of sleeping with this Lord and wants something fresh? Perhaps that newly born young Heavenly Dao who might’ve lost his memory?”
Feng Qingyun blinked, asking, “You figured that out, too?”
Long Yin choked, grabbed his waist, and leaned in to kiss him. “People say that even a spouse who brings hardship isn’t easily cast aside; how can the Little Palace Master be so fond of the new and weary of the old?”
Laughing, Feng Qingyun dodged his kiss. The two of them tussled through the night until Long Yin finally got his way, pulling him into his arms and kissing him thoroughly.
…………………….
Early the next morning, since the Imperial Advisor still had to meet that immortal once more that night, the two of them didn’t rush to close the net. Instead, they truly acted like visitors sightseeing and visiting relatives, wandering the city streets beneath the Imperial Palace.
After all, even though the other party already knew who they were, the play still had to be acted through to the end.
The capital of Jinlin was still as lively as it had been when Feng Qingyun first descended the mountain all those years ago. Though the streets were no longer the same and the operas being sung had changed through several generations, the prosperity itself had never faded.
The two of them strolled down the street like an ordinary noble young master and his attendant, unhurried and conspicuous. Before long, however, Feng Qingyun realized that while most things here had changed, some had not… such as taverns whose functions were decidedly less than wholesome.
As they passed an exceptionally lively wine house, the prettily dressed male courtesans on the second floor immediately leaned over the railing, waving enthusiastically at them. The moment Feng Qingyun understood what kind of place that was, he was afraid the person beside him might lose his mind on the spot. He hurriedly withdrew his gaze, but in the very next instant, he saw someone painfully familiar… the exact same male courtesan he had encountered back when he first came down the mountain!
Because Feng Qingyun had concealed his appearance, the courtesan did not recognize him. Instead, the man waved flirtatiously and called out in a sticky, coaxing tone, “Young Master, come up and have some fun?”
Feng Qingyun: “……”
He immediately turned away like a guilty thief, but unfortunately, it was already too late. Long Yin turned his head at once, narrowing his eyes as he asked, “Master, an old acquaintance?”
Feng Qingyun denied it on reflex. “……No.”
But knowing Long Yin could hear his thoughts, he still hastily explained inwardly: [It’s the male courtesan I ran into a hundred years ago. I was just wondering how he could still be alive.]
Unexpectedly, Long Yin responded with understanding rather than suspicion. “So what if he is? I’m not going to eat anyone. What’s Master afraid of?”
His words carried the magnanimous air of a proper main wife, but his actions told a very different story. Grabbing Feng Qingyun by the hand, he dragged him straight toward the building, looking every bit like a lawful spouse catching someone in the act.
No matter how Feng Qingyun tried, he couldn’t pull his hand free. All he could do was be hauled inside the wine house, feeling utterly miserable. The moment they stepped through the door, the proprietor greeted them warmly. “Two honored guests…”
But before he could finish, Long Yin already waved a hand to interrupt him, saying, “No need to attend to me. Just serve my Master well.”
Feng Qingyun wished he could bury his head straight into the ground.
“Oh, right,” Long Yin added casually as he pulled Feng Qingyun upstairs. “Don’t you have a male courtesan here? Call him up.”
The proprietor beamed. “Ah, yes, yes! Right away. Little Yu will be here shortly!”
Whether that was the courtesan’s original name or one he’d taken on over the years was anyone’s guess. Not long after the two of them sat down in the private room, the shy-looking male courtesan lifted the curtain and entered, lowering his head in greeting.
“Honored guests…”
Feng Qingyun needed to take just a close look to realize the man was already a corpse.
A reanimated one, at that. One who had existed for about a hundred years, yet possessed almost no cultivation at all. For reasons unknown, his body bore a corpse curse, as though he had been forcibly bound to a master. On top of that, restraining spells wrapped tightly around him.
Someone had imprisoned him here, forcing him to exist as a bound earth spirit.
Feng Qingyun’s brow twitched at the sight. Before the courtesan could finish speaking, he waved a hand to stop him, asking, “……You don’t recognize me?”
The courtesan froze, assuming he was a former patron. But no matter how he looked, he couldn’t place him, so he only said, “Please forgive my poor eyesight… May I ask who you are?”
Feng Qingyun said nothing. He simply removed the veil covering his face, revealing his true appearance. The courtesan stared blankly for a moment, then his face went deathly pale as he turned around and bolted.
Long Yin frowned slightly and lifted a hand. A strand of demonic Qi shot out, dragging the man straight back. Unable to escape, the courtesan dropped to his knees at once, begging, “Immortal Lord, spare me! Immortal Lord, please spare me!”
“We only met once in the past. I have no intention of killing you,” Feng Qingyun said, frowning. “Why did you run? And why didn’t you properly reincarnate?”
“I…” He was already a corpse with a deadly pale complexion, but now thoroughly terrified, the rosy powder on his face flaked off as he trembled, struggling to find his words. At that moment, Long Yin spoke directly into Feng Qingyun’s mind.
[He was killed by that dog surnamed Mu.]
Feng Qingyun froze.
“Mu Hanyang killed you?!” he asked in disbelief.
The courtesan jolted, lifting his head in shock. “How did you…”
“I guessed,” Feng Qingyun said coolly. “He doesn’t know I’m here. But whether he finds out depends on whether you speak. Tell me everything. Now.”
The courtesan steeled himself and lowered his voice. “It… it was Lord Mu who killed me… Because you once showed me a bit of favor, he grew jealous. One day, he lured me out under false pretenses and killed me with a single sword strike. Then he left.”
“By chance, that day was the Ghost Festival. Yin energy was heavy, and my fate was strong. Coupled with my resentment, I became like this. I wanted to seek you out for justice, but Lord Mu discovered me again. He wanted to destroy me outright. I knelt and begged repeatedly before he spared my life, but he forbade me from seeking you and placed restraints on me, binding me here as a ground spirit.”
Feng Qingyun had never known any of that and was utterly stunned.
All because of a trace of kindness on his part, an innocent life had been ruined, trapped in mud for a century. His chest felt unbearably heavy.
The courtesan, accustomed to life in the pleasure quarters and ignorant of what love truly was, sighed dejectedly after speaking. “I once thought Lord Mu loved you so deeply that you would become Dao companions…”
He had never hated Feng Qingyun. On the contrary, he had been happy for him, to be loved so fiercely, so madly, by a Senior Brother driven to jealousy. But Feng Qingyun stiffened at those words, his expression turning as unpleasant as if he’d swallowed a fly.
“He harmed an innocent person for no reason,” he said. “How can that be called love?”
The courtesan replied matter-of-factly, “…That was Lord Mu. Someone so upright and noble, yet willing to draw his sword in jealous rage over a lowly male courtesan like me, if that isn’t deep affection, then what is?”
A saint twisted by love, consumed by jealousy born of unfulfilled desire. Such feelings were the very thing male courtesans in the pleasure quarters dreamed of their entire lives.
However, Long Yin let out a cold laugh. Feng Qingyun fell silent for a long while before finally saying, “……You’re mistaken. This isn’t love.”
“And it wasn’t because of me either. He’s always been that kind of person; he just used to hide it propriety.”
Unwilling to dwell any longer on Mu Hanyang, Feng Qingyun turned to look at Long Yin, who immediately understood. Proud of being nothing like that petty, narrow-minded man, he adopted the magnanimous bearing of a rightful spouse, and with a wave of his hand, he dispelled the restraints on the courtesan.
The courtesan froze. Then, once the realization hit, he burst into ecstatic gratitude, kowtowing repeatedly. “Thank you, Immortal Lord! Thank you, Sir! This gentleman clearly possesses vast assets and technique! Standing beside the Immortal Lord like this, you look like celestial partners reborn, perfectly matched!”
Being a courtesan by trade, even when trying to sound refined, his praise inevitably drifted into suggestive territory. Feng Qingyun knew the man meant well, but still found it both awkward and amusing.
…The dignified Demon Lord, being praised like some kept man who climbed his way up through bedchambers…
Long Yin, on the other hand, smiled unconcernedly, asking instead, “Do you know why demonic Qi lingers so heavily in the Imperial Advisor’s residence?”
“Imperial Advisor…” The courtesan was still kneeling, barely recovered from the joy of freedom. After a moment’s thought, he replied, “He did come to see me several times. From what he said, it seemed he kept demonic slaves in his estate. Once, when he was drunk, he mentioned that he even had a demon wife and children in the mountains. I don’t know if that has anything to do with the demonic Qi there.”
Feng Qingyun’s eyes snapped up. “He had a wife and children in the mountains?”
“Yes,” the courtesan nodded. “All the demons struggling to survive in the city know him. He also knew I was sealed here, without cultivation and without connections, so he wasn’t afraid I’d spread his secrets. He spoke very freely.”
“He insisted on turning me into his woman, but I have little cultivation. Changing my appearance once would cost me several decades of demonic Qi, so I refused, saying I was merely a corpse, unworthy of the Imperial Advisor’s favor.”
“I hoped my identity would gross him out, but instead, he waved it off, saying a corpse was nothing for him… at least I’d once been human! He even slept with a fox woman, it was just that the cub she bore was too ugly… then he realized he’d misspoken and shut his mouth at once. That’s all I know.”
Feng Qingyun fell completely silent.
That fox woman, Qiu Ying’s husband, was the Imperial Advisor himself.
When he cut off his wife’s tail with his sword, what had he been thinking? When he watched his child crying and calling for his mother, what went through his mind?
Feng Qingyun didn’t know.
After a long silence, he finally said, “Thank you for telling me this. These past decades… it was my fault you suffered.”
“No, no, Immortal Lord, please don’t say that,” the courtesan said hastily. He fumbled out a pitifully small storage pouch and retrieved a box, offering it up like a treasured jewel. “You gave me a second life. I have nothing to repay you with, but please accept this small token of my gratitude.”
“This is…?”
Unable to refuse, Feng Qingyun accepted it and opened the box. Inside was an exquisitely crafted round bell, carved with delicate hollow patterns. When lifted, it chimed softly, crisp and clear.
Feng Qingyun had never seen such a bell before and mistook it for some kind of ornament, so he couldn’t help but praise it. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
However, the moment Long Yin saw it, his expression turned subtle almost instantly. But when Feng Qingyun looked over in confusion, Long Yin said nothing, only offering a deeply meaningful smile.
Before Feng Qingyun could figure out what that smile meant, the oblivious courtesan cheerfully added, “It’s not just pretty, the sound it makes inside the body is even better!”
- Pan, Lü, Deng, Xiao, Xian… no wonder ‘Donkey’ ranks second!” – Jin Ping Mei (Chinese: 金瓶梅), translated into English as The Plum in the Golden Vase or The Golden Lotus, is a Chinese novel of manners composed in vernacular Chinese during the latter half of the 16th century during the late Ming dynasty (1368–1644). Jin Ping Mei takes its name from the three central female characters, Pan Jinlian (潘金蓮, whose given name means “Golden Lotus”), Li Ping’er (李瓶兒, literally “Little Vase”), a concubine of Ximen Qing, and Pang Chunmei (龐春梅, “Spring plum blossoms”), a young maid who rose to power within the family. Jin Ping Mei is framed as a spin-off from Water Margin, another novel that first introduces the readers to some of the best-known characters in Chinese literature, such as Wu Song, Lin Chong, Pan Jinlian, Song Jiang, and Lu Zhishen. The saying “Pan, Lü, Deng, Xiao, Xian…” comes from chapter 3 of Jin Ping Mei, when the character Wang Po tells his lord that if he wants to be successful with women, he needs 5 things: “first, you need to be as handsome as Pan An; second, you need to be as well-endowed as a donkey; third, you need to be as wealthy as Deng Tong; fourth, you need to be patient and tolerant; and fifth, you need to have plenty of free time. These five things are called Pan, Lü (donkey), Deng, Xiao (small, as in with a good temper), and Xian (free). If you have all five, you will succeed.” Pan An (247-300), also known as Pan Anren, was a writer during China’s Western Jin Dynasty. Born in Yingyang, Henan, he had outstanding looks and an elegant disposition, and became known as the quintessential handsome man, while Deng Tong was an official of the early Former Han period 前漢 (206 BCE-8 CE). While also handsome, he is more known for the fact that he was so loved by Emperor Wen 漢文帝 (r. 180-157 BCE), that he was granted a copper mine and allowed to coin his own money that circulated throughthe whole empire. All jokes aside, the saying “Pan, Lü, Deng, Xiao, Xian” went on to embody all the qualities a male lead should have in a female-centric novel, literally “handsome as fuck, huge penis, filthy rich, tolerant, and with a lot of free time to spoil you” :)) If you want to have fun, read what Chinese netizens have to say about it here – https://en.zhihu.com/answer/1916123197708952310My personal favourite is the comment that says “The male protagonist can be homeless, have personality flaws, be in a wheelchair, be a poor student, and some authors with questionable morals can even make their male protagonists criminals, blind, mute, or eunuchs. But the only thing he cannot be is ugly.” ↩︎
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