There is a limit to the strength of soul that a human body can bear.
For Yao over two thousand years old, once they become human, their souls begin to erode the body. The more powerful the Yao, the stronger this corrosive effect, and the shorter their lifespan in human form.
Even though the Supernatural Administration Bureau forged Bai Ze’s human body with countless rare spiritual treasures, Bai Ze was ultimately too powerful—after becoming human, he lived just over forty years.
He Qingguang couldn’t help but sigh. “A human body simply can’t bear a Yao as strong as him.”
“Afterward, he’ll enter the cycle of reincarnation, becoming human again and again. But his soul is too strong, while an infant’s body is much too weak. In every lifetime, he’ll die young, never reaching adulthood, until his soul, over hundreds of lifetimes, is slowly worn away and finally becomes human at last.”
“But Bai Ze said he would choose indifferent parents for himself in reincarnation,” He Qingguang’s expression was deeply moved. “Best would be those who don’t care at all if their child lives or dies; that way, he’ll take disasters for other children too, minimizing as much as possible the harm he does to those who become his parents.”
“Ah, now that’s truly a good Yao.”
Jiang Yan had previously asked He Qingyuan about Bai Ze.
Bai Ze’s wife once suffered from a serious illness, and the Supernatural Administration Bureau used their methods to prolong her life. After his wife died, to repay the Bureau, Bai Ze sealed his own abilities into his flesh and presented his body to them.
Since then, Yao could use Bai Ze’s flesh to transform themselves into runes.
Jiang Yan was a little curious about this.
She asked He Qingguang, “Whose idea was this as a way of repaying them?”
He Qingguang thought for a moment, then replied, “It was the Director at the time—also my and Senior Brother’s master, your grandmaster.”
“No one thought Bai Ze would agree, but he actually did.”
Jiang Yan smiled.
She asked again, “What illness did Bai Ze’s wife have that the Bureau could cure?”
It seemed a favor worth all that Bai Ze had done in return.
He Qingguang’s sorrow gradually faded as he recalled the past, a note of mischief now in his tone.
He leaned closer to Jiang Yan. “You’re curious too, aren’t you? I was so curious back then myself—I had to work hard to find out.”
Jiang Yan said, “A little.”
“Curiosity is only natural—for humans, and for Yao!”
He Qingguang had only recently learned from He Qingyuan that Jiang Yan was a Yao herself, but only knew that much—he had no idea her spirit was six thousand years old and could easily outmatch him, so he wasn’t afraid of her at all.
“Bai Ze’s wife was human.” He Qingguang cleared his throat and began.
Jiang Yan raised an eyebrow. “Human?”
“You’re not making this up?”
“Of course not. When I was young, I overheard it myself crouched outside the wall—how could it be false?!” He Qingguang protested.
Jiang Yan looked at him and saw he truly wasn’t lying; she nodded slightly.
He Qingguang relaxed. “Trusting me makes you a good kid.”
He went on, “The story of Bai Ze and his wife isn’t really that complicated.”
“More than three thousand years ago, Bai Ze got into a fight with Torch Dragon—just fooling around—but Torch Dragon didn’t control his strength and forced Bai Ze back into his true form. Embarrassed, Bai Ze slipped away, leaving Torch Dragon to search the whole mountain for him without success.”
“Bai Ze shrunk down, hiding the horns on his head, pure white all over, eyes as round and large as grapes—very cute.” He Qingguang gestured, painting the scene. “He was so adorable, yet dared to run around everywhere, almost courting death. While out healing on another mountain, he was discovered by an herb-gathering woman and put into her basket to take home.”
“That herb-gatherer had quite a character—Bai Ze once said she was arrogant and endearing.”
“Bai Ze’s wounds healed on their own, but the woman thought it was all her doing, feeling very proud, and kept Bai Ze as a white weasel, teaching him how to steal chickens from the village bully. Back then, Bai Ze’s physical injuries mended, but his Yao power hadn’t returned, his natural abilities were gone, and on a sudden whim, he actually went on a chicken-stealing mission, ending up chased several streets by the bully.”
He Qingguang had real storyteller’s flair, his words lively and compelling.
“Bai Ze had never been so humiliated. He staggered back, collapsed on the floor, and the herb-gatherer scooped him up by the tail and smothered him with kisses. In Bai Ze’s words… er, like a legendary, sharp-witted man, suddenly weak and toyed with all over by a slip of a girl—not even able to show his face in human form anymore.”
“After his Yao power returned, Bai Ze was too embarrassed to stay and left a bit of wealth behind before leaving. Half a year later, the herb-gatherer caught the eye of a local official and was presented to the king at the time. But that king was… flighty, let’s say, with many in the harem and a habit of gifting consorts to his favorites.”
Here He Qingguang laughed. “Would you believe it? Bai Ze, traveling in human form from country to country, ended up being gifted one such woman by the king.”
“Bai Ze was going to slip away, but when he saw the woman who’d been brought, he didn’t.”
“Three thousand years ago, there’d only be an energy field every few centuries, so there was little need for a great Yao like Bai Ze. He lived in the thickest forests and clearest waters, meant to be transparent and compassionate, feeling all things. But after being battered by surly types like Torch Dragon and Qiongqi, he ended up a little rebellious…”
He Qingguang glanced furtively over his shoulder. “Really, I must be crazy, saying Bai Ze’s rebellious.”
“I’m scared of being silenced.”
Jiang Yan paused. “He’s really gone. Keep going.”
He Qingguang checked carefully before continuing, “What comes next is rather conventional. Bai Ze only meant to give the herb-gatherer shelter, but with time together, their feelings grew, and Bai Ze couldn’t help falling for her. He started scouring the land for a way to make a human into a Yao. He wanted not a single life together, nor eternal lifetimes, but endless years in this world.”
“In the end, he really did find a way. But though the elixir could be made, its side effects could not be undone.”
He Qingguang said, “That pill could turn someone into a Yao for three thousand years, after which their soul would scatter, utterly destroyed.”
“Bai Ze refused, hiding the book away. But with time, the herb-gatherer grew suspicious—like why did places Bai Ze slept always have fluffy white hairs, as if a small animal had shed there? She eventually found the elixir book, and after deliberation, agreed to take it.”
“Her reasoning was, more or less: if the next life has no memory of this one, then it’s already a brand new person—if her next life is still her, then she had the right to decide for her future self; if it’s not, then there’s no obligation for her to answer for that stranger.”
“After becoming Yao, the two spent three thousand years together. But as time ran out, her soul began to fail, and Bai Ze turned to the Bureau for help.”
“It was Senior Sister who found a solution then.”
Jiang Yan was startled. “He Qingfu?”
“Yes,” said He Qingguang, “Senior Sister’s ability was the strongest since the Bureau began—maybe the strongest among all psychics to this day. She could sense through the ages, surveying the centuries through all people’s eyes.”
“She found a solution two thousand years in the future. So the herb-gatherer became human again, entered the cycle of rebirth, and Bai Ze—at Grandmaster’s request—offered up his flesh.”
Two thousand years in the future…
“What was it like, two thousand years later?” Jiang Yan asked.
“Senior Sister never said,” He Qingguang scratched his graying hair. “Ah, what a nosy little Yao you are!”
“I hadn’t even joined the sect then and didn’t know Senior Sister. But I heard after she came out of trance, she was unconscious for a while and talked all muddled—she’d say the same things to Senior Brother over and over.”
“After Senior Sister died, all information on her was sealed by the Bureau. I don’t even know what she looked like. Even when Senior Brother went to pay his respects, he’d never take me—so stingy!”
He Qingguang and He Qingyuan were completely different in temperament. He Qingguang was lively, unpretentious, even willing to argue with the younger generation—a typical mischievous elder.
After feigning sternness to scold Jiang Yan, he stroked his beard and prepared to go catch up on sleep.
But after only a couple steps, Jiang Yan called him back.
“I heard from He Qingyuan that the great Yao of the Classic of Mountains and Seas not only maintain our world’s stability, but also that of other worlds. That’s why the great Yao are gone from this world—does Bai Ze have no other world to look after?”
He Qingguang turned back, grumbling, “His brothers and sisters dote on him!”
“Torch Dragon split off a world for him, White Deer split one, Nine-tailed Fox another—Bai Ze isn’t good at fighting, so he can’t win a single one back.”
“Old people’s lives matter too—I’m going back to nap!”
With that, he strode off so briskly that Jiang Yan didn’t have another chance to stop him.
Jiang Yan let out a little laugh. After half a minute, she called for Mu Wang, who was daydreaming nearby.
“Let’s go.”
The two walked along the roadside toward home. Jiang Yan thought over their conversation and for a while didn’t notice Mu Wang’s unusual behavior.
Mu Wang kept his hands in his sleeves as he walked, stuffing something into his pockets as he went.
His actions soon grew too obvious to ignore. Jiang Yan looked over helplessly. “What are you trying to hide?”
Mu Wang stopped.
After a moment, he slumped his head, lifting his longer hem slightly to reveal an armful of nearly bursting peach blossoms.
“They just keep growing. It’s so annoying.”
“Now you’re the one who’s upset.” Jiang Yan asked, “Why do they keep growing?”
Mu Wang pressed his lips together, his mouth curving upward ever so slightly. “Sister told Pingping that I live with you. That sentence keeps repeating in my head—can’t stop thinking about it, so the blossoms keep growing too. Won’t stop.”
Jiang Yan said, “Then I’ll take it back.”
Mu Wang froze.
The bright little peach blossoms sprouting from his sleeves instantly wilted.
Jiang Yan: “No, I won’t take it back.”
The wilted flowers perked up again, as if revived.
Jiang Yan: “Take it back.”
The blossoms turned ashen and pitiful.
“No, I won’t take it back.”
A blossom fell from Mu Wang’s sleeve to the ground—yet another quickly bloomed in its place.
“All right, I won’t take it back,” Jiang Yan said.
Mu Wang lowered his lashes and smiled. They walked on for a while. Once Jiang Yan finished pondering the earlier conversation, she asked, “What do you think of Bai Ze?”
Mu Wang thought for a long time, then finally offered his opinion.
“Kind of…”
He frowned. “Head over heels in love?”
Jiang Yan should have known she wouldn’t get anything reasonable out of him. She glanced at the peach blossoms stuffed into Mu Wang’s pockets and sleeves, resisted the urge to comment, and said nothing.
“I really like him,” Mu Wang went on. “His herb-gathering wife must have been wonderful.”
Jiang Yan was silent for a moment, realizing that “head over heels” was praise in Mu Wang’s vocabulary.
Sure enough, Mu Wang cheerfully plucked another peach blossom.
“So am I,” he said.
A trace of smug pride in his voice made Jiang Yan involuntarily smile.
She reached out her hand to Mu Wang. “Give me the peach blossoms from your sleeves—we’ll toss them out when we find a trash can.”
“All right.”
Mu Wang rolled up his sleeves, and the peach blossoms fell in a soft shower—like a brief rain.
As he handed her the little blooms and tried to pull his sleeves back down, Jiang Yan’s quick peripheral glance caught something. In a flash, she intercepted his hand.
“What’s this—are you hurt?”
She tapped Mu Wang’s forearm, pointing to a small red dot.
A vermilion bead-sized red spot sat on his pale skin, oddly drawing the eye with its barely tawdry allure.
As Jiang Yan asked, she rubbed it gently—but it wasn’t blood, rather a vermilion powder-like mark. It was firmly affixed and wouldn’t rub off.
“What is this?” Jiang Yan had her suspicions but still found it hard to believe.
“Chastity mark,” Mu Wang answered, clearly even more proud.
Jiang Yan: “…”
Just as she’d feared.
Her expression grew complicated. “Wash it off when we get home.”
Mu Wang’s upturned lips drooped.
“Which TV drama did you watch?” Jiang Yan pressed him. “Wash it off at home.”
Mu Wang’s gaze darted aside.
Jiang Yan chased his eyes, but Mu Wang turned away, silent in refusal and walking much faster now—faster even than He Qingguang’s retreat.
Jiang Yan: “…”
“I just put it on—not cooled yet,” Mu Wang’s protesting voice floated back from up ahead.
“?”
Jiang Yan called, “It didn’t feel warm to me.”
“It’s still hot in my heart,” Mu Wang called back from several dozen meters away, sneaking a glance, “and it’s still small.”
Jiang Yan: “…”
“All right then, fine.”
“As you wish.”