Volume Two: Kunlun's Fleeting Life Chapter Sixty-Two

A few days later, when Jinli saw her food running out, she took her basket and headed once more to Peach Blossom City. The city seemed to have changed, yet remained much the same. As she was selecting fruits and vegetables, debating whether she should try growing some herself, the sound of an argument caught her attention.

Turning her head, she saw a little girl, dirty and pitiful, being roughly seized by a burly man who gripped her by the back of her neck. "Little brat, who gave you the nerve to steal?"

Tears streamed down the girl's face. The man's fierce look infuriated Jinli, and she was about to step forward in protest when someone’s sleeve brushed across the back of her hand.

"What did she steal from you?"

The voice was gentle and melodious as a mountain stream, and it struck Jinli’s heart like a misplaced note on a zither. She turned, dazed, to find him so close—the sky-blue sash at his waist brushing her hand. Even through the fabric, Jinli fancied she could feel his warmth. Her heart threatened to leap from her chest.

"Ten taels!"

People nearby murmured among themselves, "Since when is that worth ten taels? He must be making it up."

"Exactly. Looks like this young master is being swindled."

Jinli listened as the man reached for his purse, and at once she grabbed his hand, pulled him back, and faced the bully. "What nonsense! Ten taels? Why not just rob us? This thing is worth only one tael."

With that, Jinli tossed a tael of broken silver at his feet, took the little girl’s hand and the young man’s, and made to leave.

"Wait!" the man called after them. The three paused. Jinli thought, this is bad—they’re going to get beaten.

The man picked up the silver, sneering, "One tael? You think I’m a beggar?"

He swung a fist toward Jinli. But suddenly, the man beside her raised his foot and, in a flash, sent the bully to the ground with a painful cry. "We’ve paid you. If you want trouble, you can take it to the authorities."

Jinli stared blankly at his flawless profile. The god took her hand, and she hurriedly took the little girl’s as well, and the three of them left.

When they reached a quiet place, the young man finally spoke, "Are you alright?"

Jinli shook her head. The warmth of his large hand enveloped hers, bringing an inexplicable sense of security.

"My hand," she prompted.

He started, embarrassed, and let go. Jinli noticed his ears had turned red.

For the first time, she understood what it meant to feel her heart blossoming with joy.

Just then, his expression turned alert. In a grave tone, he said, "You two go back first."

Before Jinli could ask why, he was gone.

She shrugged, then crouched down to speak gently to the little girl. "Sweetheart, do you have a home? What’s your name? Where do you live?"

The girl pointed down the street, and Jinli understood. "Don’t take other people’s things again. Here’s some food for you to take home, alright?"

The little girl accepted it, nodded, and gave a polite bow. "Thank you."

Jinli stroked her face. "Go on, then."

Watching the child walk away, Jinli sighed. She had lost her last tael of silver and her food; this trip had been for nothing. Alone, she picked fruit as she walked home. By the time she reached her small cottage, dusk was falling.

As she pushed open the door, she noticed a small fish in the pond—a beautiful blue one with tiny whiskers. Its belly was upturned. Was it dead?

She brought the fish inside, not knowing what to do but blowing bubbles into the water. After a long while, the little fish began to move, its belly righting itself. It hid quietly under a lotus leaf—perhaps just asleep. Seeing it breathing, Jinli was relieved.

Now she had a talking squirrel, two kingfishers, and a little blue fish.

The next morning, sunlight poured into her courtyard. The squirrel and kingfishers were already peering into the lotus tank at the unconscious blue fish.

"What is that? I’ve never seen a blue fish before."

"That’s my new friend. His name is Little Blue."

The squirrel curled his tail awkwardly and scratched his face. "That’s a rather unimaginative name."

"Of course," Jinli said, quite proud.

The kingfisher asked, "You’ve named us all, but have you ever thought of giving yourself a name?"

Jinli grew animated, taking out a book. "‘Of the southernmost three classics, the first is called Mount Tianyu.’ So, my name shall be Tianyu. How about that?"

The squirrel asked, "Why name yourself after a mountain?"

Her eyes brimmed with longing. "Because Mount Tianyu is lofty, beyond the reach of ordinary folk. I love to climb high and gaze far. Tianyu—I like the name."

The kingfisher and squirrel were puzzled, but Jinli didn’t notice the fish under the lotus leaf watching her.

Tianyu—broad as the sky, peaceful and unending. A fine name, indeed, and fitting for her.

That night, as all fell silent, Jingye emerged from beneath the lotus as his true form. Under the dewy stars, he recalled how he had sensed a trace of demonic energy, followed it, and fallen into an ambush. Outnumbered, he was wounded and forced into his original form.

Now, gravely weakened, he could not confront his enemies head-on. He had to return to the Sacred Domain to recover.

Glancing back at the little cottage, Jingye turned to mist and vanished into the wind.

"Is it still sleeping?" Jinli reached out and poked the motionless blue fish, thinking it still slumbered. Unbeknownst to her, in the Sacred Temple, someone’s face turned inexplicably red from being poked on the forehead.

Siming noticed something amiss. "Lord Jiuxuan, are you unwell?"

Jingye flushed, shook his head, and looked up with dewy eyes. "I’m fine."

The God of War and the other deities of the Sacred Domain were present, so he quickly hid his face behind a scroll.

Siming discreetly shielded him as well, while the gods discussed ways to suppress the chaotic yin energy. If left unchecked, chaos would divide the worlds into yin and yang, with dire consequences.

As the gods deliberated, Jinli stared at her silly fish. Summer was nearly upon them, and yet the little fish was still unmoving.

These days, Jinli had started renovating her little courtyard and cleared a patch to plant vegetables.

A few more days passed; the vegetables sprouted, but the fish remained still. The kingfishers and squirrel visited more often as the days grew hotter. In the sweltering summer, Jinli sat in the corridor with a watermelon, changed the fish into a new tank with clear water, and watched it float motionless.

She had grown used to it.

Then she heard a cat’s meow. Delighted, she put down her watermelon, picked up the stray cat she’d adopted, and stroked its fur with a smile. "Mimi, you’re back."

She stood, carrying the kitten. "Let’s go for a walk."

After she left, the little blue fish transformed into Jingye. He looked at the watermelon, the fish tank, and the open door, and chuckled. This mortal truly had a carefree heart.

He noticed her vegetables—nearly eaten by insects. With summer passing and harvest season approaching, Jinli might be left with nothing but dirt to eat.

He set about replanting them for her. Glancing at the food and the unused stove, he shook his head in amusement. She’d been surviving on these scraps, no wonder she was so thin.

He lit the fire and cooked. Soon, two dishes and a soup were ready.

The kitchen was lonely, but her desk was vibrant, strewn with books and her handwritten stories. Before he knew it, Jingye had read through an entire volume.

The tales were plain, but he could sense her joy, anger, sorrow, and delight in every line.

This mortal could speak with spirit beasts, fight, plant vegetables, and write stories—just not cook.

"If you ask me, that Sea Snail Maiden is too kind. I’d never wash and cook for someone else," he overheard.

Jingye waved his hand, vanishing from sight.

Jinli saw smoke rising from her kitchen. She hadn’t cooked in ages, so this was odd. When she went to check, she noticed the blue fish was gone.

"Where’s my fish?"

A fish? He was the only merman god in the heavens, not just a fish.

Jinli set down the cat, unease growing in her heart.

Jingye eyed the cat. He’d been gone half a month and already a cat had taken his place? Tianyu quietly picked up a stick from the corner and headed for the kitchen.

No one was there, just two dishes and a soup on the table, looking and smelling delicious.

"Could this be a trap?"

Jingye paused, then, amused by her reaction, his eyes softened in laughter.

Tianyu, both wary and curious, sniffed the food. It smelled wonderful.

Sea Snail Maiden?

A missing fish, delicious food, a tidy home.

Sea Fish Maiden?

At last, she took a silver needle from her dressing case to test the food for poison.

Clever girl.

The needle didn’t darken, and after a moment’s hesitation, hunger got the better of her and she ate.

The young man propped his chin in his hand, watching her eat with relish, her contentment bringing a smile to Jingye’s lips.