52 Adoption

After sending off Nine Feathers, Qingyin summoned the Mountain Lord and informed him that immortals might soon arrive here; to avoid courting disaster, she advised them to relocate for now. The Mountain Lord turned pale with fear upon hearing this. Yet when she handed him a heavy bundle forged from gold and silver, taken from her cosmic pouch, his fright instantly transformed into delight, and he eagerly reached out to accept it.

But Qingyin withdrew the bundle, freezing his smile mid-face.

“There’s an additional condition if you want these treasures,” she added.

The sly glimmer in her eyes made the Mountain Lord feel a foreboding chill. He asked warily, “What condition?”

“Yunie will go with you,” Qingyin replied.

The Mountain Lord’s smile evaporated entirely, his face drained of color. He wailed, “Immortal Qingyin, I really can’t care for that little ancestor!” He recalled how the snake child had seemed gentle and docile at first, but after a few days his serpent nature began to surface. He developed an instinctive urge to control the mouse spirits, baring his two sharp little fangs and domineering through the Hundred-Turn Cave, commanding them to serve his sister. Any hint of neglect resulted in a swift kick. In just over ten days, the whole family had been thoroughly subdued; at the mere sight of him, they trembled in silence, as if he might dethrone the Mountain Lord himself.

Thinking of this, the Mountain Lord sobbed, “Immortal Qingyin, in your great mercy, please take the snake child away. Snakes are natural enemies of mice—how can we live together?”

Qingyin scoffed, “Isn’t there an old saying about snakes and mice sharing a nest? Besides, Yunie isn’t a true snake child; he won’t really harm you.”

The Mountain Lord wept, “If he were a true snake child, my whole clan would’ve been devoured by now. Even as half a snake child, we can’t afford to provoke him…”

Qingyin smiled slightly, shook the mouth of her cosmic pouch, and with a clatter poured out a heap of jewels. “What about this?”

The Mountain Lord stared, his eyes glazed, “This…”

She shook the pouch again, and another dazzling pile spilled out, filling the cave with radiant brilliance. His resistance collapsed entirely, revealing his true, money-loving nature; he swiftly shed his outer robe and gathered the jewels into his arms, eyes shining feverishly, “Deal!”

Qingyin grew serious. “You must promise—even if he troubles you, you cannot abandon Yunie. If I ever learn you’ve left him behind, no matter which cave you hide in, I’ll dig you out and slaughter your entire clan.”

The threat, delivered in a slow, gentle tone but deadly in intent, made the Mountain Lord shudder and nod silently. Qingyin smiled, placing the gold and silver bundle into his arms as well.

The Mountain Lord ran out, shouting, “Everyone, pack up! We’re moving!”

Qingyin closed the door, shutting out the bustle of the mouse spirits preparing to leave. She returned to the great beast’s side, spooning porridge carefully into his mouth.

Their parting was near; she needed to feed him well. The thought of separation tugged painfully at her heart. This farewell might well be forever. The door creaked, and a small figure slipped in, nestling at her feet—Yunie.

Yunie tugged at her sleeve, eyes brimming with tears, voice trembling, “Sister, the Mountain Lord just told me he wants to take me away. I won’t go with him. I want to stay with you.”

Qingyin stroked his head, forcing a smile. “Yunie, though you aren’t fully a snake child, your body carries demonic energy. If you meet the Lord of Polaris, it could be dangerous. Sister can’t take you with her.”

Yunie’s face filled with terror. “What are you saying, Sister? I searched so hard to find you—I won’t leave you!” He flung himself into her arms, clinging tightly.

Qingyin said softly, “I’m sorry, Yunie. Go with the Mountain Lord and hide somewhere safe. He’s a good person; he won’t bully you… Just don’t bully him too much.”

Yunie shook his head desperately. “No! I don’t want to live with mice! I’d rather die than be apart from you!”

“Don’t talk about dying!” Qingyin laughed, rubbing his little cheeks. “I just have things to discuss with the Lord of Polaris. When it’s settled, I’ll come find you.”

Yunie looked at her suspiciously, “Really?”

“Of course!” she replied firmly, suppressing the sorrow in her eyes.

The door opened, and a small mouse spirit poked its head in timidly. “Your Majesty, it’s time to leave.”

Qingyin’s face darkened. “Your… Majesty?”

Yunie waved impatiently, “Wait for me outside!”

Qingyin couldn’t help but smile. With this attitude, Yunie’s days among the mouse spirits might not be too hard. She urged, “Go on, don’t keep the Mountain Lord waiting.”

Yunie stared at her, worried. “Sister, you must keep your word. You have to come find me.”

“I promise.” She bent down and kissed his little cheek.

He threw his arms around her neck, returned the kiss fiercely to her face, and only then reluctantly turned to leave. As his hand touched the door, he glanced back, catching the rising tears in Qingyin’s eyes. He paused, a vague sense of dread in his heart, though he couldn’t grasp it. He added, “If you don’t come for me, Sister, I’ll come find you. I won’t stop until I do.”

Qingyin was taken aback, then smiled. “All right.”

Letting him carry hope in his heart, always believing that a loved one waits somewhere in the world, ensured he wouldn’t feel too alone. That was best.

Mouse spirits, true to their nature, vanished swiftly; soon, the Hundred-Turn Cave was utterly deserted and quiet. The unusual silence left Qingyin with a hollow sense of fear. She bent down, embracing the slumbering great cat’s neck, burrowed her head into his chest, and listened for his heartbeat, which soothed her.

Eyes closed, she felt his body’s warmth. She whispered softly, “When you wake, I’ll likely be gone. Remember, the Lord of Polaris is cruel and heartless; you owe him nothing. I’ve made it clear—you’re no longer his cat. You’re mine. Your master is me. Now, I ask you: even if I’m not by your side, you must live well. Heaven has granted you such a long life; take care of yourself.”

The great cat lay silent, responding only with slow, deep breaths. She didn’t know how long she stayed like that, drifting in and out of sleep.

Suddenly she wondered what time it was. Inside the cave, she couldn’t see the sun or gauge the hour, but guessed it must be the following day. She went outside to check the sky.

The sun was sinking in the west, the heavens awash with glowing clouds. Nine Feathers would soon return with the Star Lord. She sighed and turned back into the depths of the cave. Entering the chamber, she stopped, stunned.

The leopard-skin spread on the stone floor was empty.

Motu was gone.

For a moment, Qingyin’s mind went blank. When clarity returned and the ringing in her ears faded, she found herself trembling all over. Her gaze swept the small chamber—only sparse furniture, and the great beast was truly missing.

Though such a massive creature could hardly hide in small spaces, she still searched the bed, turned it inside and out, upended the sole wardrobe, even lifted the beast skin, but found nothing.

She collapsed onto the beast skin, heart full of fear and confusion. Where could an unconscious beast have gone? She’d only stepped outside briefly, and on returning, had seen no suspicious figures. Who could have taken him?

Suddenly she sprang up and ran out, searching frantically through the winding tunnels.

With the mouse spirits gone, the caves were especially silent, only the torches on the walls burning softly. Qingyin rushed through, hearing only her footsteps and her ragged breath.

As she circled the caves in panic, her anxiety grew. Though she’d lived here for days, most of her time was spent tending Motu, so she was unfamiliar with the labyrinthine paths and soon became lost.

Who had taken Motu? The Lord of Polaris? Unlikely—he sought the immortal mushroom, not the beast.

Could it be that after the destruction of the infant demon tree in Magistrate Dong’s home, the mysterious ‘Immortal Master’ had traced them here?

The thought filled her with dread.

Nearly hopeless, tears blurred her vision as she ran, wiping them away with her sleeve, crying out, “Motu, Motu, where have you gone?”

Her foot caught on something soft, and she fell hard, seeing stars.

When the dizziness cleared, she crawled up, grumbling, and glanced back at the object that had tripped her.

A person lay face-down on the ground, unmoving.

Her eyes fell on his black robe—it looked so familiar. She crept closer and turned him over.

When she saw his face, she could hardly believe her eyes. Motu, now in human form, looked thinner and paler, but it was indeed him.

He had transformed and awakened.

She knelt beside him, repeating those two facts to herself, trying to make them real. She stared at his face, afraid to blink, lest he vanish. She dared not touch him, fearing he’d disappear like a phantom.

After a long daze, she cautiously reached out to touch his face. Before her hand could brush his cheek, his tightly shut black lashes quivered, and his eyes opened, their gaze hazy and confused.

He reached up, grabbing her sleeve, and murmured in a faint voice, “Taken in, only to be abandoned? Don’t even think about it.”

Author’s note: My head aches, feverish, and my whole body aches… Am I about to grow wings?!