Chapter 10: The Mortal World Is Not the Seventh Realm

A faint breeze slipped through the crack beneath the door, making the red candle flames flicker. Their wavering light mirrored the trembling of the room’s anxious occupant.

“Have you ever taken a life?” Gu Yi rose to his feet, hands clasped behind his back.

“Never! My mother always taught me never to kill. I have never dared disobey!” The little fox was sobbing uncontrollably. If she were human, she would have been a girl in the throes of adolescence, utterly thrown into panic by the pressure of the moment.

“Good. That will do. Stand up. I was once acquainted with your mother. I won’t harm you, so there’s nothing to fear.”

Gu Yi trusted that under such circumstances, the little demon would scarcely dare lie. And as long as she hadn’t killed anyone, things could still be set right—even if she’d frightened a few men, at most they’d been scared into a temporary illness.

“Yes, sir.” The little fox paused, then answered.

He gave her a few seconds to compose herself.

Then Gu Yi asked again, “What brought you down from the mountain? What happened to your mother?”

Zhihua replied in grief, “Mother passed away half a year ago after a long illness… Not long after, Lord Yangzhu vanished. With my meager abilities, I could hardly survive in the mountains. Left with no choice, I came down. Immortal, you must know—”

So she had died. What a pity.

A faint sadness flickered across Gu Yi’s face as he shook his head, helpless. “I don’t know where Yangzhu has gone, either. Not only did he leave suddenly… Even Little Yiyi has abandoned me—and took all my powers with her.”

“How could that be?” Zhihua was deeply shocked. “Even Lady Yiyi…”

“Yangzhu’s departure was abrupt. I have no clue as to his reasons.” Gu Yi’s words grew more reflective, a rare thing he reserved for the little demons he’d raised in the mountains. “But when Little Yiyi left, I noticed something. Her state was quite similar to yours.”

“Oh?”

“She yearned for the bustling world outside. Thinking back, she often asked me about the world beyond the array. I myself knew little, and she’d even tried to persuade me to travel down the mountain. But at the time, I was already at the level of Yun Sage, my heart set on the mysterious Human Realm, and I overlooked the changes in her heart.”

Zhihua asked, “Then… does that mean Lady Yiyi also developed a human heart?”

“She… developed a human heart? In a sense, yes…” Gu Yi frowned deeply.

At least, it seemed that way. That creature had begun longing for the capital, even asking about matters of love and pleasure, and all manner of strange amusements.

But that was only speculation.

Looking back, in those days, Yiyi changed every few days—always a little different. Besides her fascination with the mortal world, she must have harbored other secret longings.

“Did Lady Yiyi leave without warning, as Lord Yangzhu did?”

“Not exactly.” Gu Yi turned away, recalling that day with a furrowed brow. “She left behind two enigmatic phrases. One of them you may find interesting: ‘The Human Realm is not the Seventh Realm.’ Even I cannot decipher those seven words.”

“The Human Realm is not the Seventh Realm?” Zhihua mulled over the words, growing more confused. “How can that be? Cultivation is divided into seven realms: Meditation, Establishing the Heart, Guarding the Spirit, Returning to Simplicity, Unity with the Way, Yun Sage, and Human Realm. The seventh realm is the Human Realm.”

Indeed—the grand palace even bore the name Human Realm Palace.

So a literal interpretation made no sense at all. If there was a deeper meaning, Gu Yi could not fathom it.

…

Why did she leave? What did those words mean? And even if she left, why did she take all his powers? Gu Yi was plagued with questions.

“For now, let’s leave it at that. Zhihua, your heart is a tumult of good and evil, you can scarcely distinguish right from wrong. You are simple-hearted and act on your impulses. For your mother’s sake, I’ll let you remain here and help you find your way, so you don’t harm others—or yourself.”

The little fox dropped to her knees in gratitude, tears streaming. “I could wish for nothing more! Thank you, immortal, for your mercy!”

“Since you’ve come down the mountain…” Gu Yi reasoned, “there are likely other unruly creatures who have as well. I hardly ever interacted with you all—Yangzhu played with you most of the time. Still, you must have picked up some of my teachings. I hope you remember my words and do not act recklessly.”

Zhihua hurried to assure him, “We wouldn’t dare. In private, my mother and several elders often reminded us of your teachings. We hold them close to our hearts.”

As she spoke, a secret smile crept onto her face.

Gu Yi was puzzled. “What are you smiling about?”

“Since childhood… all I’ve heard is my mother speak of you, night and day. You even saved my life… but I had never seen you until tonight. So I am truly overjoyed.” Zhihua crossed her hands over her abdomen, standing quietly and obediently at the side.

Well, Gu Yi didn’t mean to avoid them. It was just that, in the latter stages of cultivation, seclusion lasted so long he’d lost all sense of time. To be honest, from the first winter of the Peaceful Era to the third, it all felt like a single, unending winter.

“Now that we’ve left Xiaoyuan Mountain, don’t call me ‘immortal’ anymore. Call me Gu Yi.”

“I dare not.”

“It’s not a matter of daring. You simply mustn’t. Besides, I was a respected elder to your mother, yet here you are, leading me to this place. What is it you wouldn’t dare?” Gu Yi warned, “I know you’re in heat—this is nature’s way for animals. But don’t entertain any indecent thoughts about me. I will not hesitate to strike you.”

The little fox shrank her neck, filled with regret. She had done something profoundly foolish!

“I understand. Zhihua… Zhihua will restrain herself.”

She said as much, but Gu Yi had little faith in her self-control.

He cautioned her, “Let me be clear: it is extremely difficult for demons to establish the heart. Prepare yourself and do not underestimate the challenge. Your mother only achieved it halfway—not for lack of effort, but because to establish the heart without yielding to desire, you must first master control over your longings. And let me tell you, even among humans steeped in virtue and morality, few can truly accomplish this, let alone you demons, who lack any sense of propriety or shame.”

Zhihua nodded solemnly.

Her fear had vanished; she knew she had narrowly escaped disaster, and fortune smiled upon her.

By comparison, Gu Yi’s own fate seemed a string of misfortunes.

“Immortal, there is something I do not understand. I’ve heard some people say that controlling one’s desires is a violation of humanity, and that by defying human nature… one might attain humanity?”

“That’s sophistry. To suppress desire is indeed against human nature, but to control desire is to manifest it. The distinction is subtle, but remember: if cultivation merely means giving in to your impulses, how are you any different from beasts?”

Zhihua looked puzzled; Gu Yi’s words were too profound for her. She could only grasp the latter part.

It was a weighty path, and a long one.

But there was no rush—Gu Yi understood how difficult it truly was.

“Immortal…” Zhihua began again.

“Call me Gu Yi.”

“Then I’ll call you ‘young master,’ as others do.”

“As you wish. It’s all the same. Do you have any more questions? Ask them all now.”

Zhihua paced back and forth, her voice tinged with longing. “It is already nearly impossible to become human through cultivation. I wonder… what does it mean to be immortal?”

“I don’t know.” Gu Yi replied at once, his tone full of emotion. “Though those who attain the Fifth Realm can prolong their lives, move mountains and seas, and are called immortals by the world, Little Yiyi once said that even a Yun Sage of the Sixth Realm is not truly immortal. So your question… I can’t answer it.”

Zhihua looked crestfallen at this—did that mean one had to reach the Seventh Realm, the Human Realm? How long would it take to become immortal?

But Gu Yi saw through her at a glance. “Do not give up on yourself. The path of cultivation begins with Meditation and Establishing the Heart, then Guarding the Spirit, Returning to Simplicity, and Unity with the Way. For humans, the difficulty lies in Meditation; for demons, it is Establishing the Heart. That is why there are so many ordinary people, forever plagued by demons. But after Establishing the Heart, the realm of Guarding the Spirit is not so hard for either humans or demons.”

Zhihua thought otherwise: For you, of course, it isn’t so hard—but for a little demon like me, it’s nearly impossible.

Their conversation was going well, when suddenly Zhihua squeezed her thighs together and let out a muffled groan.

Gu Yi froze. He recognized the reaction, but it was the first time he’d seen it up close.

“So sudden… Can you control it?”

Zhihua could not hold out; she staggered back against the wall, her small face flushed and feverish, her breathing rapid, her gaze toward Gu Yi tinged with a growing daze.

“It’s… so painful…”

Beasts are different from humans; when the season comes, individuals resonate with each other. Love means little, nor do looks matter.

One male, one female—that is all.

A faint red glow flickered across Zhihua’s body, humming softly, as if some hidden song were being sung. Soon, the cats in the courtyard began to howl, their cries fretful and sharp, like wailing infants, and the sound drew closer and closer.

Zhihua heard the noise and, swaying, tried to open the door. But suddenly, she lunged straight at Gu Yi, who was seated quietly nearby—

A little girl pounced at him.

Smack!

Gu Yi slapped her away.

“Foolish girl—forcing me to smack you in the middle of the night.”