Dusk, like crushed rouge, flowed along the overlapping maple forests of the Jiuling Region.
A faint tremor came from a pile of dead branches, lighter even than the sound of the autumn wind sweeping across the maple leaves. Wang Zhaojun's fingers, holding the bamboo basket, suddenly paused.
Pushing aside the covering of maple leaves, she revealed a little bird curled into a ball, its breathing like a candle flame about to go out at any moment.
When Wang Zhaojun's fingertips touched the bird's belly, she felt a scorching heat radiating from beneath its skin, like dying embers making a final struggle.
The mist deep across the Jiuling Region was rolling over the ridges, carrying the decaying fragrance of ancient trees.
The tiny creature under the leaves suddenly let out a faint chirp, and Wang Zhaojun looked down at its blood-stained beak.
"A-Li, come quick! There's a demon here!"
The mountain wind stirred the stray locks of hair at her temples. Wang Zhaojun tossed the bird into the bamboo basket and quickened her pace toward Gongsun Li, completely unaware that the bird in the basket was absorbing the spiritual power of the fire ganoderma inside.
Amidst those originally unkempt downy feathers, intricate runes faintly emerged, as if an ancient sleeping spell were awakening.
She lowered her gaze to appraise it, rubbing her chin thoughtfully: "White fur with wings, feathers slightly charred and black as if struck by lightning. You can't tell what kind of bird it is at all."
Surveying the bird, whose feathers had been blown all fluffed up by lightning, her eyes lit up: "A-Li, shall we roast and eat it?"
Gongsun Li frowned: "Look at how pitiful it is. How could you want to eat it?"
"I don't really want to eat it either, but look at it covered in wounds—it probably won't survive," Wang Zhaojun said, feigning pity while secretly plotting how to cook it.
"No way!"
Gongsun Li grabbed Wang Zhaojun's sleeve and coaxed her.
"It really is so pitiful. Can't we save it?" Gongsun Li bit her red lip, gazing at Wang Zhaojun with limpid, fawn-like eyes that flickered with a glimmer of hope.
"Fine, fine, fine. I'll save it."
Wang Zhaojun nodded with utmost helplessness, thinking to herself that she would first take the bird back and wait until A-Li fell asleep; then this little bird certainly wouldn't be able to escape her clutches. The curve of her mouth arched wildly upward.
"Sister Zhaojun, what are you smiling at?" Gongsun Li smoothed the bird's messy feathers, only to see Wang Zhaojun smiling rather strangely.
Wang Zhaojun pretended nothing had happened and waved her hand: "I was just thinking about how truly pitiful this little bird is."
"Sister Zhaojun, look at how pretty it is." Gongsun Li handed the little bird from her arms over to Wang Zhaojun.
"Struck into such a state, its feathers all dirty and filthy—it looks utterly hideous. Where on earth do you see it as pretty?" Wang Zhaojun truly did not understand. She took the little bird from Gongsun Li's arms and fussed with the feathers on its body.
Wang Zhaojun stared at the little bird as if looking at food, inspecting it all over. Its half-white and half-charred feathers were stained with blood, tiny red dots seeping out from among the feathers. Pushing the feathers aside revealed snowy white flesh.
"What kind of bird could it be?" Gongsun Li scratched her head in curiosity, seriously appraising the little bird.
Wang Zhaojun touched the bird's long tail feathers, feeling somewhere that it seemed very familiar. Suddenly, a flash of inspiration struck her mind, and she clapped her hands in excitement: "A rooster!"
"A rooster?" Gongsun Li looked at Wang Zhaojun uncomprehendingly.
Wang Zhaojun patted Gongsun Li's shoulder: "I've seen roosters in books. They have long tails and can crow at dawn."
Gongsun Li still found it hard to believe: "This bird looks extraordinary in bearing, yet it turns out to be a rooster."
"How can you tell it has an extraordinary bearing when it's charred like this? Were you sleepwalking?" Wang Zhaojun stroked Gongsun Li's head.
She lowered her head, casting her gaze once more upon the dying little bird. Her fingers stroked its feathers as she prayed silently for it to die quickly, so that she could openly and honorably devour it.
Feeling the rough feathers, Wang Zhaojun could not help but exclaim: "Such tenacious vitality!"
"Sister Zhaojun, what are you planning to do? You must not eat it!" Gongsun Li widened her beautiful eyes; Sister Zhaojun was a glutton, and she feared that if she wasn't careful, the little rooster would be done for.
Returning from the Jiuling Region, Wang Zhaojun carried the little bird back to her room, grabbing it by the tail and shaking it crazily like a sack of grain as she walked, terrified that it might stay alive.
Ever since she began cultivating under her master, she hadn't tasted meat in ages. Her master would only say: Those who cultivate immortality should consume ethereal things, not such greasy fare. She had been eating tea-soup rice for seven hundred years, and could only steal meat when he was away.
Wang Zhaojun briefly tended to the little bird's wounds, tossed it casually onto the table, and muttered curses under her breath: "It still won't die, and now I have to put on a hypocritical act of applying medicine for you."
She reached out and poked the bird's wound. The dying little bird twitched, and Wang Zhaojun slapped her own forehead, pretending to speak up in injustice for the bird: "Oh dear, what a wicked woman I am."
Wang Zhaojun narrowed her eyes, pointing a slender, painted fingernail at the bird: "But you'd better drop dead tomorrow."
The room's furnishings were simple; the gauze bed curtains and the drapes winding around the beams were all a pale, warm rosy hue. Outside the window was a vast peach grove, and wherever the eye fell, spring was in full bloom.
Wang Zhaojun lifted a teapot with her fingers and poured herself a cup of tea. At that moment, the little bird on the table twitched its wings, blinked its eyes in a daze, and looked at her with an expression of innocence and confusion.
Wang Zhaojun remained unconcerned, even glaring at it. She weighed the teacup in her hand, took a leisurely sip, and only then examined this so-called little rooster carefully.
Her delicate, clear eyes lifted slightly: "These pitch-black feathers are truly unsightly, just like a crow. It's simply too filthy; you might as well let me wash you clean and toss you in the pot."
The little bird seemed to understand Wang Zhaojun's words, shrinking its body slightly, its eyes revealing a faint, uneasy terror.
Seeing its dazed appearance, Wang Zhaojun reached out and poked its head: "Don't be afraid, don't be afraid. I was just saying that off the cuff. Looking like this, you're malnourished and there's nothing much to eat on you anyway."
The little bird drooped its head slightly, lowering it in a manner that was docile and endearing.
Wang Zhaojun found it utterly boring and tapped her fingers against the tabletop out of sheer idleness.
"Can you crow? Cry out a couple of times for me to hear." Wang Zhaojun glanced at it.
The little bird rolled its lively eyes, looking at Wang Zhaojun in utter bewilderment.
"Could it be a hen?"
Wang Zhaojun looked again at the bird's tail feathers: "With such a long tail, that shouldn't be right."
"How did a mortal chicken run all the way to the Heavenly Realm? Did it ascend?"
She muttered softly to herself: "This chick doesn't even seem to have taken human form yet; it must be a native immortal chicken."
The sky outside the window was gradually growing dark.
Wang Zhaojun had originally intended to cook it as soon as she returned, but now she changed her mind: she would let it recover from its injuries and get a bit fatter first—a malnourished bird would be too stringy to chew.
She went to the kitchen, grabbed a handful of rice, and scattered it on the floor. Stroking the little bird's head, she coaxed: "Little chicken, eat up."
"This is top-grade immortal rice, don't be ungrateful." Wang Zhaojun forced the little bird's beak open with her fingers and shoved a few grains inside, terrified of starving this piece of prime meat.
The little bird rolled its eyes and spat the rice back out.
"It can't be that bad, can it?" Wang Zhaojun took a sniff; a rich fragrance of rice filled with spiritual energy overflowed, yet the chick refused to eat it? Could it be suffering from a failure to acclimate, a country chicken unused to the rice of the Heavenly Realm?
Wang Zhaojun sighed helplessly: "If you won't eat or drink, you'll die sooner or later. You might as well die in my stomach."
Taking advantage of the time before A-Li returned from the academy, she would boil it. Good or bad tasting, she was simply craving it far too much.
Seeing Wang Zhaojun reach to grab it, the little bird turned and plunged straight into the nearby water basin, terrified that she would feed it rice again.
"Not acting like a proper rooster, learning from those big white geese swimming in the lake." Wang Zhaojun shrugged, used her spiritual power to sweep it out of the water, and shook the water from its body.
"Seeing that you're rather pitiful, I'll stew you into soup instead." A cunning gleam flashed in Wang Zhaojun's eyes as she picked up the little bird by the neck and scurried to the kitchen.
Wang Zhaojun scooped two bowls of mountain spring water, tossed wild ginseng and spiritual herbs into the pot, and stroked the little bird's head: "Little chicken, don't be afraid, we're going to take a nice fragrant bath."
With that, she tossed the chick into the pot, covered it tightly with the lid, and went out to the courtyard to wait.
She could hardly imagine how delicious this soup would be. The spiritual energy in the Jiuling Region was dense; flowers, trees, birds, and beasts were all imbued with spiritual power. A single bowl would surely boost her cultivation by a considerable margin.