Chapter Four: The Xiaotong River Basin

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By midday, Suhe stepped into a teahouse.

A cursory glance revealed immortals gathered in groups of two or three at each table, each with a fragrant cup of tea, some savoring it with closed eyes, others drinking quietly, lost in thought. There were also clusters engaged in hushed conversation, lending a lively undertone to the establishment’s subdued elegance.

Finding no vacant tables outside, Suhe moved further in and chose a window seat. A waiter approached at an unhurried pace, tidied the table, and greeted him respectfully, “You seem unfamiliar, immortal master. You must be newly arrived from the lower realms. Is there anything I, a humble immortal, can do for you?”

Suhe glanced about and replied, “You have a keen eye, my friend. Indeed, I am new here and know little of your realm’s fine teas. Perhaps you could offer me some guidance?”

The waiter pointed to a bamboo plaque on the wall. “The fifth grade is suitable for all immortals. The fourth grade is reserved for those with ambition. The third, for heroes among immortals. The second, for paragons. The first, for gods themselves. Which would you prefer?”

“Fifth grade will suffice for me. But tell me, what happens if one partakes of a tea beyond their station?”

“At worst, you’ll be bedridden for a few days. At best, you might find yourself reincarnated.”

“Oh? How so?” Suhe’s interest was piqued.

He had been away for years, and though the scenery in Desire Sea Heaven remained unchanged, the people and customs now seemed unfamiliar. In the past, he had never heard of such wondrous teas.

The waiter’s eyes flickered with an inscrutable light. “Our teas are unlike any other; crafted by a master, thanks to the proprietor’s acquaintance. Thus, only immortals may taste them. But everything must be within one’s means—overreaching brings disaster.”

In short, one must not covet blessings beyond their due.

Many immortals, not believing this, risked their lives for a spectacle. In the end, they were utterly ruined; the wild grass on their graves outside the western suburb likely stands as tall as their tombstones. If not for a certain event...

Suhe nodded. “I see. Thank you for enlightening me.”

The waiter, interrupted from his thoughts, quickly replied, “Not at all, it’s my duty as a humble immortal. I shall fetch your fifth grade tea at once.”

With that, he circled a few tables, slipped behind the counter, lifted a curtain, and disappeared into the back.

Moments later, he emerged with a delicate set of crystal tea ware, gently setting them down in front of Suhe. With a graceful hand, he poured a cup.

At once, fragrant vapors drifted like thin clouds, the smoky tendrils conjuring visions of mountains, forests, and birdsong. One whiff brought forth a unique clarity, haunting in its freshness—a touch of the ineffable.

The waiter placed the crystal pot down, stepped aside, and stole a glance at his guest. “Please, enjoy at your leisure.”

Suhe raised the cup and took a sip. Instantly, nectar flowed down his throat, a trace of spiritual energy cleansing his mind and soul. Unconsciously, he closed his eyes and sighed with wonder.

The pent-up frustrations of recent days seemed to dissolve in that silent instant, fading away with each sweet note lingering in his mouth.

When he opened his eyes again, the world had changed. The clusters of tea drinkers had vanished, as had the waiter. Even the fifth grade tea and the entire teahouse before him had disappeared.

He realized, to his astonishment, that he now stood amidst a mountain forest, ancient pines and cypresses looming in the mist that rose suddenly all around. In the blink of an eye, he could see nothing.

His brows knitted, Suhe called out to the unseen, “If you have brought me here with intent, why not reveal yourself openly?”

At that moment, the sound of tinkling ornaments rang out in the fog, followed by a woman’s laughter and the waft of fragrant breezes.

“Why, are you in such a hurry, immortal master? A lady can be shy, you know.”

“Oh, sister, if you frighten the gentleman away, don’t come begging me for help later.”

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In a moment, two women glided out of the mist, their ornaments chiming with every step. With each sound, Suhe felt his limbs growing weaker, his body heavy and numb, powerless to resist.

He thought to himself: These two are formidable indeed. Everything he had seen before must have been their doing. He had been careless and fallen into their trap.

The one who called herself younger sister covered her lips with her sleeve, gave a lazy sigh, and collapsed into Suhe’s arms. Her fair, supple arms curled about his neck as she breathed out a sweet fragrance. “My dear, do you find me beautiful?”

Suhe turned his head away, his expression frosty and silent.

“Oh, say I am and I’ll show you the wonders beneath my robes.”

“Shameless.”

“Tsk, so heartless. Well then, insult me, and I’ll let you see yours instead.” With that, she twisted her waist, spun around, and reached to strip away Suhe’s garments.

“Stop, demoness!” Suhe’s anger flared, his eyes growing colder still.

“Demoness? You should call me demon-immortal. I am no lowly creature.” She paused, trailing a hand along Suhe’s cheek, eliciting nothing but disgust from him.

But the more Suhe loathed her, the more brazen she became.

Her sister, growing impatient, pulled the dazed girl away and laughed, “What are you doing, sister? Tie him up and toss him in the pot—wouldn’t that be far better than courting his contempt?”

The younger one refused, protesting that most immortals who passed through were all bluster with nothing to show. It was rare to catch one who, though plain in appearance, possessed such pure true essence.

Had she not personally transformed into the waiter and brewed the tea herself just to lure him in?

Though they lay in wait here, she was determined to have this man, whatever the cost.

Again she twisted her body and clung to Suhe’s chest, making him tremble with rage.

Her sister, seeing this, did not waste words. With a flick, she bound them both and, gripping one end of the immortal-binding cord, dragged them back to their cave.

“Someone, remove the younger palace mistress from me.”

She collected the cord and strode to the stone seat.

A minor demon, following orders, approached Suhe and the younger mistress. “Forgive me, Second Mistress.”

“Hey, let me go, let me go…” The young woman kicked and struggled as she was pulled away, refusing to be parted from Suhe.

But the minor demons paid her no heed and, with practiced ease, carried her to the steps below.

“Reporting to First Mistress, the Second Mistress has been brought.”

“Leave us. Clean the pot, build the fire. When the time comes, finish the job.” The First Mistress waved them off, her eyes cold as she fixed them on her sister.

“Yes, Mistress.”

The two demons hauled the paralyzed Suhe away.

Once they vanished into a side cave, the Second Mistress slinked over to her sister, draping herself across her lap, her voice coy. “Sister, let me have just a taste. Such a man—would it not be a waste not to partake?”

The First Mistress leaned back, pinching her chin with a seductive smile. “Don’t forget why we’re here. Fail in our task, and you’ll never touch a man again.”

The Second Mistress tilted her head, lips brushing her sister’s fingers and breathing warmth across her skin, her cheeks flushed. “Fine, I won’t. But why cook him then? The pleasures of the flesh are far more delightful than mere hunger.”

“Let that thought die between us; speak it to none, unless you wish us both dead. Do you understand, sister?” The First Mistress suddenly pulled her close, pinning her beneath her.

“Yes… yes, I understand.” The Second Mistress blushed and glanced away coyly.

“Will you rest here, or shall I check below?” The First Mistress rose, twirling a lock of hair around her finger.

“I trust you, sister. Let me be lazy and rest here a while.” The Second Mistress sprawled across the stone seat, her eyes smoldering.

“As you wish.” With that, the First Mistress swayed down the steps and disappeared into the cave.

Once she was gone, the Second Mistress’s gaze turned icy. Rising, she straightened her dress and hair, sneered coldly, and slipped into the void.

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Meanwhile, as the First Mistress made her way through the winding paths of the cave, Suhe found himself in the most humiliating predicament of his life.

Truly, life and death were trivial—disgrace was the greater shame.

He watched as the minor demons scrubbed the pot and stoked the fire until it glowed. Soon, they dragged him before a giant vat for a ceremonial washing.

His body remained stiff and unresponsive. Desperate, there was nothing he could do.

The demons ignored the furious look on his face, intent only on carrying out their orders. As they reached to strip him, beads of cold sweat broke out on Suhe’s brow, usually so composed.

“Ladies, you have worked hard scrubbing the pot and tending the fire. Might I suggest I cleanse myself instead? You are both pure and fair—no need to sully your good names with such tasks.”

Indeed, flattery never fails. Though Suhe’s words were a last-ditch ploy, they brought blushes to both demons’ faces.

One, plucking up her courage, protested, “You are unreasonable, immortal master, making light of us. You say you fear staining our good names, but you can’t even move your limbs. How will you wash yourself? Wouldn’t that trouble us further?”

The other lowered her eyes shyly, unable to meet his gaze.

Seeing this, Suhe breathed a faint sigh of relief. If not, he truly would have lost all dignity here.

He composed himself and tried again, “You must have special talents to be so favored by your mistress. If you could just ease my bindings a little, I could manage the rest myself without troubling you at all.”

His sincerity touched them. The two demons, newly pressed into service here, still held strict notions of propriety between men and women. They dared not disobey orders before, but now, alone with Suhe, his words gave them pause.

Just a little—enough to let him move for his own cleansing—would do no harm, they thought.

They nodded to each other. One produced a small bottle, uncorked it, and a strange fragrance wafted out.

Just then, the First Mistress’s voice echoed from outside, “Is everything prepared?”

Startled, the demon dropped the bottle, which bounced on the ground. She snatched it up and quickly replaced the stopper, answering nervously, “Yes, Mistress, everything is ready. Just waiting to wash the captive before finishing the task.”

The First Mistress drifted in, her strong perfume quickly masking the earlier scent. She glanced at the blazing hearth and scrutinized the three of them.

At once, cold sweat trickled down the two demons’ temples.

“Why are you sweating?”

The pair froze, standing stiffly to attention. One, quick-witted, pointed at Suhe and stammered, “He refused to cooperate and insulted both you and the Second Mistress. We were angered, so we dragged him here to wash, and broke a bit of sweat.”

The First Mistress looked at Suhe, noting the storm on his brow, and her suspicion faded.

“Hurry and wash him. Don’t delay.”

With a final glance, she turned and left.

When she was gone, the two demons clutched their chests and breathed a sigh of relief.

“That was close…”