"Green clouds rise from mountains, weaving mist like ink strokes on silk. The whole Shenyan Palace rests as though painted in a scroll of spring."
"Layers of bamboo ripple across Tianchi, carrying fragrance and threads of breeze."
"An immortal crane dances, jade feet stirring the clear pool—earthly realm crowned in green perfection."
The boundary pillars bore the first two lines of verse, etched by imperial artisans to praise Shenyan Hall's beauty. The last was not official at all but spoken casually by Subei, when asked how he found the scene. Yet to listeners, even his offhand words carried poetic weight.
A Girl in Ink Robes
By the fairy pool at the mountain's base, Xiao Wu sat perched in an antique ink-painted skirt. Oddly, the simple ancient dress suited her: glossy black hair streaming past her slim waist, floating against the water's edge.
The scenery painted her as though she were child of the pond itself: elegant, untamed, one hand draped over her knee, another reaching absentmindedly to touch the koi darting below. Behind stretched green mountains; beside, the immortal crane Ziji had brought, towering tens of meters, its alabaster beak sharp like a god's sword.
Two Hanover white horses trotted lazily across soft grass in the distance, their silver coats flashing under sun.
Subei sat just behind, comb in hand, gently running through Xiao Wu's long hair. One hand brushed her slender shoulders as he worked, lips curving smugly.
"Little Wu," he teased, "isn't my strength perfect? Strong, steady… comfortable?"
Her lips quirked, half-grin, half-shy. "It's… okay." She gave him a thumbs-up despite her blush. "Compared to before, Brother is much better. You used to give up after only a few minutes. Now you can last dozens. Very impressive."
Her eyes sparkled, then dipped. "But you're still the same—you like to be too hard. It always hurts. Fortunately, I've gotten used to the pain. Otherwise, I'd be crying."
Subei chuckled faintly. Shout if it hurts. The louder you shout, the more excited I may be. But aloud he only said, "Then shout, Little Wu. If you don't speak up, how can I know when to be gentle?"
She shot him a flat look. "Brother, you must learn to love girls properly. Everyone's sensitivity is different. Some hurt even with the gentlest tug, while others need rougher handling. Watch her expressions. Learn."
She was serious, lecturing him like an expert. It left him speechless. "How do you know so much?" he asked suspiciously.
Xiao Wu's cheeks ripened red. "It's common sense! When I lived in the forest, I often… overheard soul beasts. When they fight in the bushes, they cry out. Loud, small—different sounds for different wounds. Isn't it the same principle for humans?"
Though she said it innocently, her fingers laced with his, her palm warm, her big eyes melting. To her, whether he combed her hair, teased, or touched her nose, this Brother was perfect. A boy of gentleness and warmth, dazzling yet unattainable.
Horses on the Grass
A sudden cry broke the moment.
Neigh!
The two Hanover horses—gifts from Liu Erlong and Xiao Wu's forest brothers—charged across the lawn. In a burst of raw energy, they rolled together on the grass in unabashed chaos. Tangles of legs and blurred manes spun like some mating dance.
Xiao Wu clapped, snow-white teeth flashing. "Brother, look! Da Bai and Xiao Bai are playing so happily. Don't they look just like a couple?"
Subei twitched. This won't do. He summoned his draconic servant Pang. The massive creature stomped forward, plucked the lusty horse by its mane, and hurled it toward the stable.
The horse screamed pitifully. King, you can't! I'll explode if you stop me now!
But Pang was merciless, and Subei merely snorted. "Enough nonsense. Lick the dragon-core grass I prepared first. Cultivating blood is more useful than frantic play."
Xiao Wu puffed annoyed cheeks. "Brother, you're bullying them. They're just young. Desire is natural. The stronger they grow, the stronger their children will be."
He only shrugged faintly. She didn't see the truth—these two were no longer mere horses. He had diluted dragon-cores into their feed. Slowly, horns sprouted from their foreheads; bodies hardened, scales hinted under coats. In time, they would evolve from white horses into dragon-horses.
If they bred as simple Hanover horses now, it would waste precious potential. Better to hold them back, let bloodlines ascend, then let nature take its course.
The immortal crane agreed, flapping wings as though singing commentary: Extravagant! Even horses dine on dragon core!
Two koi spat bubbles, mocking. The crane squawked, diving after them, while the pond rippled with chaos.
The Forbidden Question
All the while, Subei's hands continued deftly braiding Xiao Wu's long hair into a neat scorpion-tail. Years of rolling dumplings, wielding knives, and sculpting meals devolved seamlessly into combing artistry. Few could rival him in such delicate skill.
Yet his playful grin turned sly. "Little Wu," he murmured, "I've always wondered something. You were a hundred-thousand-year soul beast before taking form. In so many centuries… surely there were many male rabbits. Why don't you have children?"
Xiao Wu's cheeks combusted pink. She slapped his arm, then hesitated as her gaze caught his devastating face. She softened immediately, her fists turning to light taps against his chest.
"Brother! You're so bad. How could you ask that? I've never… never done anything like that! My mother was strict. I never had… rabbits."
Then her eyes dimmed, her tone grew quiet. "Besides, have you noticed? Among hundred-thousand-year beasts, there are hardly ever offspring. Ziji, Brigitte, Emperor Tian—none have children."
This gave him pause. Indeed. Ziji's body in his bed had proven the point. Goddesses of power, yet… untouched?
"Why?" he asked. "Bloodline problems?"
"Yes." Xiao Wu leaned gently against him. "Our blood grows too strong. The higher our cultivation, the rarer true partners. Even within one species, it's difficult. My parents were blessed—they matched equally, both powerful, and so I was born. But in thousands of years since? No other rabbit has reached that height."
Her lashes lowered. "It's sad. But also lucky. Without that loneliness, I would never have left the forest. Never have met you, Brother."
Her words left him silent. A rabbit's baring of truth, honest but bittersweet. Little Wu had been destined for solitude—yet in solitude, she found him.
Suddenly, sharp pain bit his shoulder. He hissed as she pulled away, her lips red. Purple tooth marks marred his skin.
"This is punishment," she pouted, licking sweetly at the mark. "Who told Brother to tease me with such questions?"
If only you knew, Subei thought darkly. You don't punish me… you make me want to punish you.
Secrets in the Firelight
Far away, in a dingy room reeking of smoke and molten iron, another figure labored. Piled bottles of colored liquids hissed. Jagged shards of steel and cloth littered the floor.
Tang San's hands gripped iron tongs, eyes bloodshot, fixed on the black light within the furnace. Sweat covered him, but his gaze gleamed with desperate hope.
"Yes… it must succeed…" he muttered. "If this can please Teacher… if this can earn forgiveness..."
His words trembled with obsession. His hammer rose again, striking fire. Sparks hissed across stone. What he sought to forge from poison and steel was secret yet deadly.
Outside, spring skies smiled over Shenyan Palace. But even beneath heaven's green poetry, in the shadows, schemes of poison brewed—Tang San's path growing darker, stranger, more dangerous with each strike.
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