Chapter Three: Searching for Him Among the Crowd

“Little brother, aren’t you going to tip the storyteller?” A sweet-voiced fairy approached me and asked.

“A tip? What about it?”

“Little brother, I so wish to go to Jade Purity Realm and take a master. If you’re not after ranking, could you let me have the tip? Thank you, little brother!” She sat before me, pleading pitifully. Her words were coquettish, and though she was much older than I, she called me “little brother” again and again, wheedling as if I were the elder.

“You want to become an apprentice?” I asked curiously.

“Yes! I must go! With this letter of recommendation, I’ll have a better chance. Please, little brother, help me.” She reached to tug my sleeve.

I quickly pulled my arm away. “Aren’t you afraid of him?”

“Why would I be! I like him too much to be afraid.” The fairy fluttered her lashes, playing the fool.

The High God Yunxiao had even killed his fiancée—if his disciples made a mistake, wouldn’t he cut them down without a second thought...? At the thought, I truly admired her mettle, so I gave her the small silver leaf I’d intended for the storyteller.

“My name is Weiyang. What’s yours, little brother? Are you hoping to become an apprentice, too? Shall we go together and look out for each other?”

I felt uneasy and hastily waved my hands. “I have no interest in apprenticing myself to that sort of god.”

At that, Weiyang’s face immediately clouded. “How can you talk like that! The High God Yunxiao’s kindness graces all creation! He’s devoted and unwavering in love! Without him, the heavens would still be locked in endless war—you might not even have been born! A god like him—you're not even fit to carry his shoes!” With that, she flung the tip I’d given her back at me and turned away.

Catching the money, I sighed. An unlucky start today—barely out the door and already being snubbed by everyone. Maybe I really should find a good sect and study the Six Yao Divination, so I could cast a fortune before going out. Still, it was my own fault for running my mouth and speaking ill of her would-be master.

I gave the money to the waiter. A moment later, the top three tippers were announced. First place was someone named Dongfang Mo, who had tipped with a hundred gold leaves! The second and third places were far behind. Was this Dongfang Mo mad or just a fool, going to such lengths for a letter of recommendation?

I ordered another pot of tea. At the next table, a group of Yunxiao devotees had gathered.

One fairy was recounting another tale: “The horns blared and the war drums thundered... At the most stirring moment on the battlefield, Biyou, the Immortal Lord of Penglai, quietly slipped into the woods outside the army camp.

Tears in her eyes, she sealed her immortal body; the gleaming dagger was raised high...”

A young fairy gasped, “Did Biyou really die just like that?”

The storytelling fairy sipped her tea. “Yes! When the High God Yunxiao arrived, Biyou was lying on the ground, clutching the dagger buried in her heart, her white dress soaked in crimson. Blood at her lips, tears at her eyes—she was already gone. Beside her lay a poem attesting to her innocence: ‘Clear are the waters of Penglai, drifting white clouds above, born and reborn in the immortal realm, bringing fortune through the ages.’”

“Poor Biyou! Why didn’t Yunxiao choose her? After all, Lu Xue died long ago and would never return,” one little immortal said mournfully.

Another little immortal retorted, “If the High God Yunxiao didn’t love Biyou, why should he be with her?”

“Exactly! Don’t make a match where there isn’t one! It was gossip like yours that drove Biyou to her death!” another agreed.

“How do you know Yunxiao and Biyou weren’t in love? Biyou died twenty thousand years ago! None of you saw it!” The little immortal who pitied Biyou argued fiercely.

“Biyou went to the camp to deliver medicine by order of her master, Lady Danxia. Both her master and the High God Yunxiao clarified everything. It was the enemy who spread rumors that she had bewitched Yunxiao, demoralized the troops, and lost her virtue in the camp—just to shake our army’s morale. Yunxiao only saw her as a junior—how could he love her?”

“Why couldn’t he love a junior?”

The quarrel grew louder at the next table. I frowned, sipping my tea. The story of Lu Xue was vexing enough, and now here was Biyou—anyone who crossed paths with Yunxiao seemed doomed. Annoyed by the noise, I left the teahouse and walked back onto the street.

Clouds thickened; swallows skimmed low. Rain was coming. The air was heavy and stifling. Just moments ago, the sun was shining and the market was lively; now, the shouts and cries grated on my nerves, making my head ache. My good mood, like the weather, turned gloomy.

“Pointless! Not fun at all! Nothing interesting to amuse myself with!” Muttering to myself, I walked with my head down—and crashed straight into someone.

Looking up, I saw a young immortal, dressed in a faintly ink-colored robe, his skin dark yet features handsome and bearing extraordinary. He held half a roasted sweet potato, staring at the ground, where the other half had fallen. Under it lay a piece of silk, on which three big words were scrawled: Letter of Recommendation!

“Oh no! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!” I hastily crouched to carefully pick up the half sweet potato and retrieved the letter, relieved to see it wasn’t too badly soiled.

“That’s him! The little one squatting there! He mocked me—called me a fool! Brothers, get him!” A commotion broke out behind me.

I turned and saw the street performer from earlier, now with three burly companions, charging toward me. In a hurry, I shoved the letter back into the hands of the roasted sweet potato-eating immortal and ran for my life.

The four strongmen barreled through the crowd, clearing a path. The immortal in ink was still dazed, and in a flash, they snatched away his remaining sweet potato and the recommendation letter. Heavy boots trampled the sweet potato into mush, which smeared all over the letter.

The immortal in ink grew furious on the spot, clutching his ruined letter as he flew before me, blocking my escape. “Stop right there!”

Inked immortal in front, four strongmen behind, I was trapped like a little mouse. Seeing no way out, I instantly transformed into my cold crow form and shot into the sky—only to be snatched back by the immortal’s magic and returned to human shape.

“What’s going on here?” the immortal asked me.

“That strongman shattered a stone and covered me in stone dust. When I spat it out, he accused me of heckling him and wouldn’t let it go!” I explained hurriedly.

“Is that true?” the immortal asked.

“Of course! May lightning strike me if I lie!” I replied.

“Don’t believe him! This brat mocked me, called me a fool!” the street performer yelled in anger.

“You started it by wronging me!” I retreated a few steps, looking for a chance to escape.

“Oh, so it’s a misunderstanding. But what about my recommendation letter?” The immortal in ink, holding his sweet potato-smeared letter, demanded of both me and the strongmen.

“It wasn’t me! Don’t blame me. It was fine when I gave it to you—it must have been them!” I hurried to defend myself.

The immortal in ink shot me a glare and approached the four strongmen with the ruined letter.

“Who do you think you are? Who cares about your stupid letter!” One of the strongmen swung his iron chain at him. The immortal blocked it with a spell and, with a gentle push, sent the man stumbling back, nearly falling.

Realizing they’d met their match, the strongmen grew cautious. One summoned an iron hammer and charged at the immortal. The immortal summoned a spiked mace and, after only two moves, sent the man’s hammer flying and embedded it in the ground. The strongman tugged at it but couldn’t pull it free.

“Immortal friend, this has nothing to do with you—we’re just after that kid!” The other three, seeing the immortal’s skill, tried to placate him.

“Deal with whoever you want, but someone must pay for my recommendation letter!” the immortal insisted.

“How much?” the strongman asked.

“I don’t want your money—I want my recommendation letter!” the immortal replied relentlessly.

“Don’t be so ungrateful!” The four exchanged glances and each summoned a massive iron hammer—three charged the immortal, one came at me. I had no choice but to draw my dagger. Compared to them, I was small and thin—a disadvantage, but also an advantage. As long as he didn’t get hold of me, I’d manage.

As the strongman swung his hammer, I darted close and slashed several times at the waistband of his trousers. Then I jumped back, covering my eyes.

The onlookers burst into laughter as the strongman’s trousers fell to his ankles, exposing his bare behind as he stood there, hammer in hand, utterly mortified. I darted behind an archway, chuckling as I shielded my eyes to watch the fight.

Embarrassed, the strongman snatched up his trousers and ran off. The other three were also defeated by the immortal in ink. Tossing down a few silver leaves in compensation, they too fled.

The immortal in ink dismissed his spiked mace, collected the money, and, after looking at the ruined letter, sighed and threw it into a nearby vegetable basket.

I thought to myself, all this started because of me. The immortal in ink was dragged into it for no reason. I hurried over, cupped my hands, and apologized: “Immortal friend, I truly apologize, just now—”

“Despicable and vulgar! Only a scoundrel would humiliate others this way!” The immortal in ink shot me a disdainful look, cut me off, and strode away.

I was left dumbfounded. How was I despicable? How was I vulgar? I didn’t even look at that strongman’s bare behind!

The immortal vanished in a flash. Annoyed, I thought, what’s he so proud for? Just because he’s taller and better looking than me? If I can’t beat him, am I not allowed to use other tricks? Besides, I’m no gentleman to begin with! Was it worth cursing me so harshly over a recommendation letter?

Fuming, I went to the vegetable basket, crouched down, and picked up the ruined recommendation letter, wiping it with some leaves. It wouldn’t come clean; it really was useless now. Just as I was about to toss it, the blurred name on it caught my eye.

Dongfang Mo! So he was the one who’d spent a fortune to get this letter. No wonder he was so angry with me. Suddenly, I felt a stab of guilt. But Dongfang Mo was long gone, and the letter was useless. There was nothing I could do. I dropped it, dusted off my hands, and continued on my way.

Thunder rumbled overhead, lightning flickered, but the rain still held back.

Stifled to the point I could hardly breathe, I bought a bamboo folding fan at a roadside stall, fanning myself as I walked. I thought I’d find a shelter from wind and rain soon, and once the downpour started, transform into my cold crow form and take a heavenly bath to wash away the day’s restlessness.

Passing a temple gate, a fortune-telling immortal, ragged and holding a god-flag, grinned slyly at me. “Brother, fate brings us together. Care for a reading?”

I ignored him and kept walking.

“Heaven gives thunder, earth gives fire. Others buy umbrellas, but you buy a fan—are you hoping for a bigger storm or a fiercer blaze?” the fortune-teller said, his tone languid.

I knew he was talking about me, but ignored him still. These fortune-telling immortals always looked for business this way.

“Brother, wait!” The fortune-teller blocked my path.

“I don’t need a reading,” I refused.

“You need no reading, but I’ll read anyway. Heaven is watching, the wind and thunder are watching,” he said, putting on an air of mystery.

“Let them watch. I’ve done nothing wrong—am I afraid of lightning?” I replied offhandedly.

“Not so, not so. The heat is unbearable. I’ll read your fortune for free—just give me that folding fan. How about it?”

Fortune-telling was a better trade in the mortal world. In the immortal realm, any immortal with a bit of cultivation could divine for themselves—who’d pay for someone else’s reading? Business was hard for them, and they scraped what they could from low-level immortals like me.

Seeing his pitiful, sweaty face, I handed him the bamboo fan. “Take it. I don’t need a reading. The rain’s coming—go get out of it.” With that, I walked on.

“Where are you headed, brother?” The fortune-teller followed.

I ignored him; truth be told, I didn’t know where I was going.

“I’m off to Kunlun Xu for a rare gathering, to read fortunes for would-be disciples. Won’t you come?”

“May you prosper! I won’t go.”

“In the heavens, which aspiring immortal doesn’t want to enter the House of the Bright God, to stand beside the Emperors of the Nine Provinces? Upon graduation, you’d at least become a Star Lord! Why don’t you try?”

I laughed. “I’m not interested.”

“If I’m not mistaken, brother, you’ve done something against your conscience. If you don’t go, how will you make up for the loss you caused others?”

Startled, I stopped in my tracks. Was he talking about Dongfang Mo? I did feel a bit guilty. Though I was angry at his harsh words, his recommendation letter had been ruined because of me—no wonder he was upset. He might even lose his chance to become a disciple because of this.

Hesitation flickered in my heart, and the fortune-teller saw it at once. “See? I was right. If you ignore it, you’ll just hurt yourself and others.”

I was already wavering. Persuaded by the fortune-teller, I thought, it didn’t matter where I went anyway—I’d go to Kunlun and be a witness for Dongfang Mo. If he needed that recommendation letter, I’d tell the High God Yunxiao everything, and put my conscience at ease.

“All right, I’ll go to Kunlun and find him!”