Dusk.
Jiang Qingyu and Baixin sat on the stone steps of the main peak, letting the evening breeze brush past them. On the level grass below, Song Wu and Tang Yuan were locked in a scuffle. Neither of them used spiritual power or weapons; it was a raw, physical brawl—fist against fist, seeing whose punches were heavier and harder.
Jiang Qingyu hugged her knees, asking Baixin curiously, "Are the Senior Sister and Senior Brother always like this?"
Baixin chuckled softly. "What do you think of their relationship?"
Jiang Qingyu thought for only a second before answering, "Excellent!"
"How so?"
Jiang Qingyu pointed at the pair, analyzing the situation. "Although Third Senior Sister and Fourth Senior Brother are fighting, they are actually holding back. Look, Senior Brother. If they really wanted to hurt each other, Sister could have landed that punch directly on Brother Tang Yuan’s stomach, but she aimed for his nose instead!"
Baixin looked surprised and nodded. "Go on."
"And look at Brother Tang Yuan’s punch just now. He didn't go for the back of her head, but instead took a wide arc just to smack her squarely on the eye. It’s exactly like two little kittens batting at each other!"
Baixin watched for a moment. It was true; the little girl’s analysis was spot-on.
Jiang Qingyu paused, then said with a grin, "Besides, aren't you here, Senior Brother? No matter how hard they fight, a single medicinal pill later will fix it right up. It’s all just superficial injuries—the only real problem is that it’s an eyesore!"
Baixin couldn't help but laugh. "You, where did you learn all this flattery?" Yet, he had to admit, he quite enjoyed it.
Jiang Qingyu just smiled, keeping her secrets.
"Actually, they didn't get along this well when they first arrived."
Jiang Qingyu looked at Baixin in surprise.
"Don't look at me like that. Do you remember me telling you that when Tang Yuan first joined the sect, Song Wu was scared sleepless by his 'Five Poisons'?"
"Of course I remember. Did they fight because of that?"
"It wasn't nearly as simple as that. Back then, neither of them liked the other at all!"
"Tell me more." Jiang Qingyu sensed a story.
"Though Tang Yuan joined only a year after Song Wu, he is actually ten years her senior!"
Jiang Qingyu found that hard to believe. Tang Yuan’s baby face made him look so young, and his naive, straightforward personality—she would have believed he was sixteen. After all, Third Senior Sister seemed much more mature than him.
"From the moment he joined, I never heard him call her 'Senior Sister.' And I think Song Wu, seeing his indifferent attitude and having already been traumatized by his 'Five Poisons,' subconsciously assumed he was using the creatures to intimidate her."
"So they just started picking on each other?"
"Exactly. Back then, they would bicker every time they saw each other. Master didn't care, and I couldn't stop them, so I just let them be. After all, they weren't going to kill each other, and as long as they didn't, I could always patch them up!" Baixin’s tone was filled with a hint of pride; he was very confident in his medical skills.
Jiang Qingyu gave him a thumbs-up. "Amazing! And then?"
"Later, Tang Yuan was severely injured by an Evil Cultivator while out on a mission. It was Xiao Yin—your Second Senior Brother—who brought him back. He was down to his last breath. Since he’s a Ghost Cultivator, if he had died then, he would have been gone for good. I put in a massive effort just to hang onto his soul, but that was all I could do. It was Song Wu who melted down the Frost Whip Master had given her, extracting the phoenix blood from it to feed him, which saved his life."
Jiang Qingyu knew that some weapon smiths used the blood, bones, or feathers of divine beasts or demon beasts to imbue weapons with spirit. She could only imagine how hard it must have been for Song Wu to melt down such a treasure.
"After Tang Yuan woke up and heard from Mei Niang that Song Wu had sacrificed her beloved whip to save him, he learned she had been hiding on Guanyun Peak, crying until her face was as swollen as a puppy stung by bees. Even before he was fully healed, he broke into the Underworld’s Nine Prisons and fought the Underworld Phoenix for three days and nights. He brought back phoenix blood and feathers, begged Master to forge a whip identical to the old one, and even thoughtfully asked me for ointment to help reduce the swelling! Since then, they’ve had a bond forged in life and death. Though they still act like they don't get along, they are fiercely protective of one another."
"Haha, is this another version of 'learning to know each other through fights'? Poor little me is uneducated and can't think of a better way to describe them."
"How could that not be the perfect way?" Baixin smiled. "Learning to know each other through fights—that’s a perfect description."
Jiang Qingyu looked at Song Wu and Tang Yuan. Both were covered in colorful bruises. One had a blackened eye, the other had a bloody nose and lip. They were evenly matched, yet stubborn as mules.
"If you dare pinch me again, I’ll beat you into a giant panda!"
"If you dare mock me again, I’ll beat you into a silly roe deer!"
"Hmph! Who’s afraid of whom!" The two stood up in unison, challenging each other, then limped over to sit on either side of Jiang Qingyu and Baixin. Their daily cold war had officially begun.
The main peak was the highest point of the Wuya Sword Sect, at least a head taller than Pinglan or Guanyun. From where they sat, they could overlook the beautiful scenery of the sect.
The sunset was magnificent, though it was fading into dusk.
After a moment of silence, Baixin spoke. "Third, Fourth, what are your thoughts on Half-Demons?"
Jiang Qingyu turned to look at Baixin in surprise. Was it time for a showdown?
"Why do you ask, Senior Brother?" Song Wu asked, puzzled.
"Just curious," Baixin said confidently.
Song Wu puffed out her cheeks, then accidentally tugged at a wound and winced in pain. She shot a fierce glare at Tang Yuan, looked at the red clouds on the horizon, and said slowly, "I was once severely injured by an Evil Cultivator while traveling through the Northern Realm, and I was saved by a Half-Demon friend. She was a mix between a spiritual ginseng and a human. She was timid, yet kind and lovely. She didn't have much hair. When I was unconscious, she gave me one of her ginseng root hairs—saying it wasn't much, but better than nothing—and took me to her home to treat me."
"She was always out early and returning late. I didn't know why, until one night, she dragged herself back covered in injuries, leaning on a piece of rotten wood, sobbing that she had been beaten. She said that even though she was a mix, she was still a spiritual ginseng. Spiritual ginsengs are rare, especially ones that have gained sentience. Everyone nearby who knew her identity would come to beg for her root hairs whenever they were hurt. She had plucked her hair out, strand by strand, to give to them."
"But she was a silly girl. She didn't understand the meaning of greed. Her hair grew thinner every day, but those people, all wearing the same faces, kept coming back with different injuries to beg for more. She began to resist, refusing to give them any more. So, they beat her—just like the farmer and the snake."
"After I healed, I wanted to take her for revenge, but she refused. Do you know what she said? She said, 'I am just a lowly Half-Demon; I’m not worth you risking your life. Besides, if you beat them, they will just come back and hurt me even worse after you leave. Sister, you’ve just healed, don't go. It will bleed, and it will hurt.'"
As Song Wu reached this point, her uninjured eye turned red, and her nose grew flushed. Her voice trembled as she continued, "She was covered in her own wounds, yet she told me not to go because she was afraid I would get hurt, because getting hurt hurts!"
"My heart ached. I asked, 'What about you? Doesn't it hurt?' She replied, 'If you get used to it, it doesn't hurt anymore.'"
Song Wu’s tears couldn't be held back any longer. As Jiang Qingyu reached for her handkerchief, a pale, slender hand reached over even faster. It was the Fourth Senior Brother. He didn't have a handkerchief, but he had sleeves, and he had moved over at some point.
"Stop crying, it looks ugly. I’m telling you, Song Wu, if you keep crying, you’re washing my clothes!" he threatened, clumsily comforting his Third Senior Sister in his own way, wiping her tears while patting her back to help her catch her breath.
"Waaaah... Tang Yuan... I’m crying so hard... and you still want me to wash your clothes... Waaaah..."
Third Senior Sister didn't hold back; she grabbed his sleeve and wiped her tears and snot all over it, crying until she had the hiccups.
"You don't know how much my heart broke for her. After I left, I asked around and found the scoundrel who had been bullying her. I beat him within an inch of his life, fed him muting potion, shaved his head bald, and tied him to the path leading to her house with a sign that read, 'I am an idiot, please beat me hard.' Naturally, everyone who passed by 'educated' him very enthusiastically."
"By the time I went to see her again, she had left. She only left behind a single root hair and a letter. The letter said: 'Thank you for having my back,' followed by a smiley face."
As the story ended, Song Wu’s emotions began to stabilize. "Anyway, to me, Half-Demons are just like everyone else. They feel joy, they shed tears, they feel wronged, and they get angry. Since they exist in this world, we are all equal."
Tang Yuan flicked his sleeve in disgust. "I’m a Ghost Cultivator, someone everyone wants to kill—what kind of opinion could I have? I just watch from the sidelines! Our statuses are about the same!"
He rolled up his sleeve and wiped it across Song Wu’s face. "Song Wu! Look at you, aren't you gross!"
"Blehh! Then hit me!" Song Wu stood up, nimbly dodging Tang Yuan’s attack, ducking behind Baixin, and grabbing his clothes—
"Holy sh*t!!!" The Fourth Senior Brother cursed, looking in horror at the fox on the stone steps, pointing at Song Wu. "You turned the Eldest Senior Brother into a fox!?"
Song Wu stared blankly at the silk in her hands. It was silk—very smooth—but where had the big Senior Brother gone?
Yes, where was Senior Brother?
The only person present who knew what was happening was Jiang Qingyu, who remained as calm as an old dog—and, of course, the fox himself.
Song Wu and Tang Yuan both lowered their heads in unison, thinking back to the topic they had just discussed, staring intently at the eight-tailed fox.
Silence fell over the night.
The fox opened its mouth, and a familiar, unmistakable tone emerged: "Yes, it is I."
Tang Yuan and Song Wu: "Holy sh*t..."