Chapter Twenty-Four: The Fairy of Transcendence

The wild pheasant spirit, sensing her impending death, let out a heartrending, piercing cry. Yet the white and golden dragons were still locked in a furious battle, biting and coiling around each other with no end in sight—how could they spare any attention to rescue her?

The old white dragon, seeing the wild pheasant spirit tormented by a mere young Taoist, gave a thunderous roar in midair and tried to break away from the golden dragon to rush down and save her. The golden dragon, who was Bu Xu in her transformed state, also witnessed this and inwardly praised Yang Nan for his keen perception. She tightened her hold on the white dragon, refusing to let go. The white dragon exerted all its strength, but could not shake her off, and the golden dragon took the chance to bite down hard a few more times while the white dragon was distracted. Furious, the white dragon retaliated, and the two colossal beasts resumed their savage struggle in the sky.

Yang Nan, seeing that the golden dragon was indeed restraining the white dragon, felt a great weight lifted from his heart. He chuckled, “Sister Pheasant, why not confess what treasures you’re hiding? Save me the trouble of searching myself…” Yang Nan saw through her schemes—how could an old demoness of over a thousand years still hope to seduce him? Ridiculous! Both had only been playing their own games from the start…

Only now did the pheasant spirit realize that the handsome young Taoist had a ruthless heart, as cruel as the most seasoned bandit. Knowing there was no hope, her seductive manner vanished, replaced by a look of malice. “Cursed Taoist! Kill me if you will, but you’ll never trick me into handing over my treasures!”

Seeing that nothing more could be gained, Yang Nan put on a disappointed face. “You said it yourself, I never said I’d kill you. But since you wish for death, I will oblige…”

“Wait!” The pheasant spirit’s eyes brimmed with sorrowful despair and unshed tears. “Young sir, I have cultivated for over a thousand years—can you not show me mercy?”

A fleeting look of confusion crossed Yang Nan’s gaze before he replied coldly, “Say that to the countless souls whose life essence you drained.”

With that, Yang Nan drove the ice sword in his hand into her heart. The blade, formed of spiritual power, pierced through her, chilling her to the core. With a final, dying shriek that echoed like a phoenix’s lament, the wild pheasant spirit perished. Her beautiful illusion faded in death, revealing only a bald, featherless pheasant.

“My beloved! Taoist brat, I will kill you!” The white dragon in the sky, seeing the pheasant spirit fall, let out a wail of anguish and dove toward Yang Nan in reckless fury.

After slaying the pheasant with one stroke, Yang Nan looked up to see the vast shadow of the white dragon descending. He scrambled behind a boulder for cover. The white dragon, blinded by vengeance, exposed a flaw. The golden dragon’s massive claws seized it, jaws snapping onto the vulnerable reverse scale beneath its throat.

The white dragon howled in pain, eyes turning blood-red, and turned to bite the golden dragon’s head in a frenzy. Seizing the chance, the golden dragon raked the white dragon’s body, leaving it covered in bloody wounds, though she herself was equally battered and bleeding.

With its reverse scale torn, the white dragon realized that further struggle would only spell its own doom. With a desperate heave, it flung the golden dragon aside and twisted away, fleeing toward the horizon. Though the white dragon’s power exceeded that of the golden dragon, the latter was now spent and could not give chase, forced to watch as her foe shrank to its original size and vanished into the distant sky.

Seeing that the golden dragon had emerged victorious and the white dragon had fled, Yang Nan patted his chest in relief. The golden dragon reverted to her true form, a ten-zhang-long serpent, and landed. She opened her mouth and spat out a point of light, instantly transforming into a woman in a plain white dress. Golden radiance danced around her, coalescing once more into a crescent-shaped magical weapon.

Yang Nan noticed that though the woman’s face was pale, her beauty was breathtaking—utterly unlike the rustic appearance the village girl Bu Xu had worn before. He hesitated, gazing at her in awe. The ravishing woman smiled gently. “Little rascal, don’t you recognize me?”

Her star-like eyes, pearly teeth, delicate nose, and cherry lips formed a face of such perfect harmony that Yang Nan felt she personified beauty itself. If White Robe and the others were considered rare beauties, this woman’s allure was enough to stop a man’s breath. Even exhaling in her presence seemed a sacrilege.

It was as if even the air of the mortal world might desecrate her beauty.

As people would say in his previous life: This woman is no mortal—she is a goddess.

Such unearthly beauty, transcending all, with skin like ice and bone like jade, her radiance was impossible to gaze upon directly.

Yang Nan stared, dumbstruck, for a long while before coming to his senses. Wasn’t this Bu Xu? Though her face was transformed, that cold, aloof, peerless bearing remained unchanged.

“Fairy Sister, so this is your true appearance—no wonder…” Yang Nan struggled to compose himself, but her beauty still disturbed his thoughts. The wild pheasant’s allure was only seductive; his own female disguise could only be called delicate; White Robe was elegant, Butterfly Robe gentle. But Bu Xu’s otherworldly face, combined with her icy temperament, seemed to outshine every woman in the world.

Bu Xu smiled faintly, her exquisite features blooming like a rare flower. “Little rascal, you’re barely grown—what do you know of beauty?”

Her smile made her seem even more radiant. The intimidating, icy demeanor of before vanished without a trace. Yang Nan quickly lowered his head and chanted to himself, “Boundless Heavenly Venerable! I am a Taoist—beauty is but a skull beneath the skin. What is a pretty face to me?”

After living two lives, Yang Nan soon regained his composure. Only now did he understand why Bu Xu had disguised herself in such a plain, unremarkable form—her true appearance would only bring endless trouble in the mortal world.

Before Yang Nan could respond, Bu Xu suddenly faltered and sat down heavily. Alarmed, he exclaimed, “Fairy Sister, are you all right?”

“I’m fine…” Bu Xu sat cross-legged and waved a weak hand, a strange blush rising to her pale cheeks. She seemed so frail and helpless now—gone was the daunting, awe-inspiring presence from before, replaced by the innocence of a girl-next-door.

Yang Nan realized she must have been gravely injured in the recent battle; otherwise, the formidable Fairy Bu Xu could never appear so vulnerable.

“Shall I fetch some spirit herbs to help you heal?” he offered. Ordinary injuries could be mended with a pill or two, but for a cultivator—especially a master wounded so severely—Yang Nan was at a loss.

Bu Xu closed her eyes without answering. The clouds above had long since scattered, and shafts of sunlight formed a soft halo around her, making her seem like a celestial being of legend.

Yang Nan dared not disturb her healing. He began gathering the scattered dragon scales and feathers littering the ground, then turned to the wild pheasant’s corpse. This creature had cultivated for over a millennium and—being of the wind element—its feathers were no ordinary plumage. Though Yang Nan had no mind to skin or dissect it now, he was searching for treasures like a Cosmos Ring. The pheasant had evidently carried valuables, so there must be some storage artifact.

After thoroughly searching the corpse, Yang Nan finally discovered a small black ring on one claw. Intrigued, he slipped it off. The ring, made from some unknown celestial material, was engraved with mountains, rivers, and grass. Focusing his spiritual sight, Yang Nan found that the energy it emitted was even stronger than that of his own Cosmos Ring.

The “Jiangshan Ring!” In a flash, Yang Nan knew exactly what he’d found. This was the Jiangshan Ring! His heart pounded wildly.

Of course, it could not be the legendary artifact itself—at most, a masterfully crafted imitation. Yet even as a replica, the Jiangshan Ring was priceless. Far superior to the Cosmos Ring, the Jiangshan Ring was said to contain a world of its own. Even the imitations possessed the unique power to store living beings, not just objects!

“What a treasure!” Yang Nan laughed delightedly. The ring alone was reward enough for the harrowing ordeal just past. He might not have contributed much to the battle, but he’d certainly been frightened enough.

Had Fairy Bu Xu lost, the disaster would surely have swept him away as well—his own life forfeit. He’d keep the ring to soothe his nerves!

Yang Nan tried to activate the Jiangshan Ring as he would a Cosmos Ring, but nothing happened. Frustrated, he muttered, “Was I wrong? Is this not the Jiangshan Ring?”

“It is the Jiangshan Ring, but the wild pheasant spirit placed many restrictions on it. You can’t use it for now,” came Bu Xu’s icy voice from behind him.

Delighted, Yang Nan turned and asked, “Fairy Sister, are you recovered?” The strange flush had faded from her cheeks, and Yang Nan was relieved. If anything happened to this formidable sister, it could only spell trouble for him.

Bu Xu shook her head gently and sighed, “My injuries will not heal so soon.” Suddenly, her gaze sharpened, and she fixed Yang Nan with a look like a drawn sword. “Whose disciple are you? How is it you know both Taoist and Confucian arts? Why did you aid me in killing the wild pheasant?” A hint of killing intent flickered in her eyes—one wrong answer, and she would strike without hesitation.

Yang Nan rolled his eyes inwardly at her combative nature. Beautiful as she was, she was simply too violent. Couldn’t his honesty in not striking her while she was down prove he was a decent person?

He knew, however, that a single wrong word could spell his doom. No matter her injuries, to someone of her power, killing a novice like him would be as easy as crushing a chick.

Bu Xu was no mere beast-born spirit like the wild pheasant.

Yang Nan straightened and replied earnestly, “Fairy Sister, I’ll be honest—I have no sect. My presence here was a complete accident.” He recounted his background truthfully, thinking that since he planned to join Kunlun eventually, honesty might win him this formidable sister’s favor.

He reasoned that, wounded as she was, Bu Xu would owe him a favor. Even if she was violent, she could not deny his help today.

Only much later did Yang Nan realize how lucky he’d been to be so forthright on Tianhu Island. Bu Xu was famed for her decisiveness; wounded, she would never tolerate an unknown stranger at her side. If he’d shown the slightest ill intent, he would have died instantly by her Coiling Dragon Sword.

Once Bu Xu grew suspicious, her murderous intent flared, and Yang Nan never realized how close he came to death’s door that day.

Much later, learning what had been in Bu Xu’s mind, Yang Nan broke out in a cold sweat. He once asked her, with a hint of grievance, “If I’d been less honest that day, would you really have killed me?”

Bu Xu only smiled sweetly. “What do you think?”

Her radiant smile sent a chill through Yang Nan’s heart. He knew that Bu Xu never hesitated. Escaping her wrath was thanks only to the blessings of whatever gods might watch over him.

Yang Nan recounted his story truthfully, concluding, “If I hadn’t killed the wild pheasant, I’d have died as soon as you did.”

His words were less than tactful; Bu Xu’s cheeks colored faintly, her dazzling eyes flickering with an unfathomable light. After pondering a moment, she asked coolly, “You claim to be the direct grandson of Confucian master Yang Pu? And that the sect’s Divine Weapon, the Xuan Yan Sword, is truly in your possession?”

“Absolutely,” Yang Nan replied without hesitation.

Bu Xu nodded. “And what does the Xuan Yan Sword look like? Where is it now?”

Yang Nan knew the answer well. “It’s about two inches long, its body like a shimmering stream of flowing light—like living water. On one side is engraved a fire qilin, the legendary beast; the other bears the name ‘Qingfeng.’ Right now, my brother Chi Yang has it. If you don’t believe me, come see for yourself.”

After being interrogated at such length, Yang Nan’s patience wore thin, and his words grew terse. Bu Xu paid it no mind, closing her eyes as she said, “Take the pheasant’s corpse. We’re heading for Dejiang Prefecture.”

Her tone brooked no argument, so Yang Nan could only nod in agreement. He had hoped to gather more scattered feathers and dragon scales from Tianhu Lake, but had no choice.

Using his Cosmos Ring, Yang Nan stored the pheasant’s remains alongside those of the flood dragon. In death, the mother and son, separated so often in life, were finally reunited.

When the flood dragon had brought him here, Yang Nan had been dazed and disoriented. Now, after Bu Xu had rested for some time, she stood and, using her power, resumed her village girl form. With a graceful wave, she summoned the crescent-shaped dragon weapon, which became a golden dragon for her to ride.

Yang Nan saw that the golden dragon was covered in wounds, its tail nearly severed—injuries clearly dealt by the white dragon. The memory of their fierce battle sent a lingering chill through his heart. The white dragon had fled, but must be in dire straits as well. In the end, both had suffered grievously.

Whatever became of the white dragon was not his concern. But having killed its son and wife, Yang Nan wondered how he would defend himself if the dragon came for revenge.

With a sigh, he thought, “Let tomorrow worry for itself. If the old dragon comes, Bu Xu will have to face him too. Though, can this battered, half-tailed golden dragon even fly?”

Bu Xu’s eyes flashed coldly as she saw Yang Nan hesitate. “Get on. Or do you plan to walk home?”

Startled, Yang Nan climbed onto the dragon’s back. With a mighty roar, the golden dragon bore them shakily into the sky.