Jing Feirong did what he said, and here he is again.
——His figure became taller and taller, and his appearance was still childish, but the dragon horn on his forehead had disappeared. When he was near the tree, he tripped and fell. The holy sword made a mocking sound, and Jing Feirong climbed up with a silly smile, walked to the side of the tree, and said in a clear and cheerful voice, “Sacred tree, do you still remember me?”
The Sacred Tree: Do not disturb.
Jing Feirong sat down beside the tree, took out a bag of candied fruit from the brocade bag, put a piece in his mouth, and said incoherently, “Sacred tree, today is my thousand-year-old birthday.”
The Holy Sword was too lazy to listen to his nonsense, so it flew out and went to various places in Suliang Mountain to absorb spiritual energy. Jing Feirong watched the Holy Sword disappear in the wind and snow, chewed a few candied fruits, and then slowly said, “But I pissed off my father.”
“Because I asked him about my father again.” His profile looked a little downcast, his eyelashes trembling twice. Jing Feirong said, “I think I did nothing wrong, they are the ones who have been avoiding.”
Chu Yanchuan looked at him quietly.
“Sacred Tree, you know, there is a divine vein between the descendants of the dragon race and the one who gave birth to them. It will gradually dissipate and separate after a hundred years of birth. But when my father left me, I was probably only a few months old.”
“The divine vein between my father and I was abruptly severed, causing my cultivation to be unable to grow normally like my brothers and sisters.”
“I have to spend several more times training, and my wounds heal slower than others. When I was 200 years old, my third brother took me to the battlefield. It was my father’s order that I go out early to gain experience and improve my skills.”
Jing Feirong frowned slightly. “I—did everything I was asked, but why is no one willing to tell me about my father?”
The only response he got was the whistling of the cold wind. Jing Feirong sighed and said, “Sacred Tree, I really want to meet my father and want to know what kind of person he is. The more everyone keeps this a secret, the more I can’t help it.”
“You can hear me, right?” Jing Feirong turned around and looked at the tree trunk. “Sacred tree, when will you be able to transform into a physical body?”
Of course, the sacred tree would not answer. Jing Feirong was silent for a while, put a candied fruit on the grass, and said, “I’ll invite you to have a candied fruit.”
The young man walked away. Chu Yanchuan looked at the thin figure in the snow. The holy sword followed Jing Feirong. The world was vast and desolate.
When Jing Feirong came again, he was missing his left hand.
That face was handsome and elegant, with a youthful spirit and lively expression, but the expression was not very good—after all, no one can smile with a broken arm.
Jing Feirong lay down as soon as he got to the tree. He had been whipped a hundred times on his back and had not recovered yet. He had been sleeping on his stomach for the past few days.
“Sacred Tree, I almost died in the Demon Realm.” Jing Feirong sniffed the fragrance of green grass and muttered, “My hand was broken. If it wasn’t for Third Brother coming to save me, you wouldn’t be able to see me anymore, do you know?”
Sacred Tree: Uh-huh.
A branch came down, and the green leaves caressed the broken arm on Jing Feirong’s left shoulder. Jing Feirong looked at the green leaves and finally smiled: “Is the Sacred Tree worried? Don’t worry, Sacred Tree. I have already taken my left hand to the spring of Zhuling to nourish it. When the evil spirit inside is cleared, it will be fine once it is reattached.”
“My third brother was suspended from his post, and my eldest brother went back to heaven and had a quarrel with my father.” Jing Feirong looked at the mountaintop in the distance with empty eyes. “It was the first time I saw my eldest brother so fierce. When I was lying on the bed recovering from the beating, my second sister came back from the Buddha’s throne to see me.”
“My eldest brother and second sister are the ones who know the most, but they have always avoided talking about our father’s affairs.” Jing Feirong sighed, paused, and said, “Forget it.”
He spoke very little that day, probably because he was still in pain or because he was exhausted after the serious injury, so he fell asleep on the grass with his fingers in his mouth. The branches of the sacred tree kept caressing Jing Feirong’s head and back, sending spiritual power into his body intermittently.
In the blizzard, Jing Feirong seemed to see a figure dressed in white-like clouds, thin and tall. Something touched his face, like someone’s cool fingertips. Then the figure gradually walked away and disappeared into the vast snow-capped mountains.
In the years that followed, Jing Feirong often came to Suliang Mountain. Sometimes he would share interesting things with the sacred tree, even though he was always laughing alone. Sometimes he would be covered in wounds, spitting blood, and begging the sacred tree to give him some spiritual power. Sometimes he would cry, hug the tree trunk, and complain bitterly. Sometimes he would not say a word and would sleep beside the tree in peace.
The last time Jing Feirong came was on the day of his wedding with Chu Yanchuan.
He got drunk in Zhuling, stumbled to Suliang Mountain, fell headfirst into the grass, burped, and said incoherently, “Sacred Tree, I’m getting married.”
At that time, Chu Yanchuan had already left his original body but left a soul in the tree, so he could still clearly hear what Jing Feirong said even though he was thousands of miles away.
“He is a very noble Dijun…” Jing Feirong murmured, “I have never seen him, I only know that he is an ancient god, respected by all gods, and I heard that… he is the most beautiful in the six realms.”
“Since my father has arranged this marriage, he must have his own plans. Anyway, I don’t have a lover, and making a scene on the God-Slaying Platform is useless. I can only obey the arrangement… Besides, Dijun is of high status, and it would be unworthy for me to marry him.”
As he spoke, he frowned again, as if he were puzzled: “But why me? Can’t it be my eldest brother or third brother? I’m obviously the youngest, why me?”
“Forget it… My eldest brother is at odds with our father and only returns to heaven once in a while. My third brother is having an affair with the Lord of the Underworld. After thinking about it, there’s still only me.”
“It’s nothing, actually… Sacred Tree, I just really hope that my father can see me get married… I really want him to see me grow up, get taller, and get married.”
Jing Feirong kept whispering to himself for a long time, and finally his nose felt sore and tears fell. He choked and said, “I always feel that the divine vein between me and my father has not been broken; otherwise, why would I miss him this much?”
A gust of cold wind blew, and Jing Feirong shivered. He looked up into the distance and said with a nasal voice, “Today is our wedding day, and I ran out like this. If my father were still here, he would probably blame me for being ignorant.”
“But it’s already like this…” He staggered to his feet, burped and cried, and said with a pout, “There’s nothing I can do. I’ll be scolded by my father if I go back anyway. I might as well go to Zhuling and drink some more…”
He turned around, looked at the sacred tree, and said, “Sacred tree, I’m leaving now. Thank you for always listening to me and giving me spiritual power. When you transform into a human form, come to heaven to find me. I’ll treat you to a drink and take you around to play.”
At that time, Chu Yanchuan was wearing his wedding dress and sleeping in the Fifth Prince’s bedchamber. In his sleep, he heard every word Jing Feirong said.
He slowly opened his eyes, looked at the dark bedchamber quietly for a moment, and closed his eyes again.
Today, Chu Yanchuan was meditating in his tree form when he suddenly heard footsteps. He opened his eyes and saw the Fifth Prince walking towards him with a sullen look on his face.
Chu Yanchuan suddenly felt curious. He wondered what the Fifth Prince was going to complain about at the sacred tree after marrying him.
Jing Feirong walked to the tree with his cheeks puffed up in frustration and started crying aggrievedly: “Sacred Tree, my wife ran away, wuwuwu…”
The author has something to say: Rong, did you know that your wife touched your face when you were asleep?
