Chapter 11: That Night

After the slap, the pain jolted Zhi Hua into a slightly clearer state, but her body still trembled uncontrollably, prompting Gu Yi to realize he needed a solution. Though he knew she was not human, her pale thighs were real enough, and her tender, rosy cheeks looked as if they would feel soft under his touch. Fortunately, Gu Yi was an upright and handsome man.

“Are you feeling uncomfortable?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

A wave of sensation seemed to crash over her mind, humming and buzzing, causing her to squeeze her eyes shut repeatedly. Zhi Hua nodded, her gaze pleading, “It hurts… it hurts so much.”

“Then let me tie you up,” Gu Yi replied.

Zhi Hua was bewildered.

Without hesitation, Gu Yi rummaged through the room and found a thick hemp rope, selecting a sturdy bedpost as his anchor. As he approached Zhi Hua, he could sense her struggle; her white tail had already slipped out from under her dress, and her eyes grew increasingly wild, the beastly aura intensifying. She was, after all, only a fledgling spirit.

To be safe, Gu Yi did not approach her immediately. “Let me borrow your spiritual energy,” he said, raising his index and middle fingers to gently tap the uncontrollable red aura scattered in the air. Guided by his touch, the energy followed his fingertips, as if writing characters in the air.

This spiritual talisman would temporarily restrain her movements, though it could not last the whole night. The injury talisman he had written previously, limited by his current cultivation, had faded in just over a minute.

Thus, the rope was still necessary.

The binding itself was simple, though Zhi Hua continued to struggle and moan throughout. Gu Yi, lacking better options, looked at the little girl tied to the bed and said, “You’re already bound, so stop crying. Try to steady your mind and control the energy within.”

“Ah~” Another surge seemed to strike her head, and Zhi Hua squeezed her eyes shut, her face twisted in pain.

He sighed, knowing words were futile.

The little fox, her resolve faltering, cried plaintively, her tears like dewdrops on a pear blossom: “I can’t stand it anymore, truly can’t… please… help me, sir, please help me…”

Gu Yi truly had no way to help her. Just as no external force can aid a human during meditation, so too is it difficult for anyone to directly assist a beast when it is forging its spirit. It is a matter of nature; the degree may vary, but the principle remains. Some humans enter meditation swiftly, gifted by fate—people call them prodigies, those who, without extra effort, always gain a little more than others. Similarly, some species of demons experience less intense urges, which is another form of heaven’s favor.

“If the path of cultivation proves too arduous, giving up is always an option. There’s nothing wrong with being a fox.”

“No… I don’t want to!” The fox girl shook her head vigorously, her hair gradually reverting to white, her face flickering and growing faint, as if she could no longer maintain her human form.

Well then.

Gu Yi sat cross-legged on the bed. “You know that the beasts of Little Garden Mountain are nurtured by my spiritual energy, right? Focus and feel it.”

He closed his eyes.

At that moment, his hair draped over his back began to float, the spiritual energy in the air stirred as if drawn by some force, and the quiet, dark night grew lively. Gentle sounds accompanied the rush of multicolored spiritual energy surging toward Gu Yi.

A faint white halo wrapped around him, and the energy gathered, swirling above his head, then his body, arms, and legs. Through collision, the various colors gradually turned white.

Gu Yi was not cultivating; he was simply attuning himself to the energies of heaven and earth.

Cultivators judge suitability by how much one can sense and activate spiritual energy and how brightly one can shine. Some flicker like fireflies; others radiate like sun and moon—two worlds apart.

Of course, Gu Yi had to restrain himself; otherwise, the entire mountain would blaze all night, causing quite a stir.

Zhi Hua had grown up in such an environment, bathed in spiritual energy. Without Gu Yi, the ordinary Little Garden Mountain would never have nurtured a fox capable of meditation or human form.

The white spiritual energy made Gu Yi appear dazzling and handsome, yet it could not directly soothe the restless red energy within Zhi Hua. Still, it could strengthen her resolve, letting her know who was helping her.

Zhi Hua shut her eyes and focused inward, attempting to control the energy battering certain special parts of her body.

That night was exceedingly difficult.

…

…

Sunlight streamed across the room adorned with wedding decorations, dust motes floating in the air, and the red candles on the table had burned out, leaving a scene of chaos.

Gu Yi opened his eyes to see Zhi Hua standing respectfully beside him.

“Sir, I was unruly last night. Please punish me.”

“There’s nothing to punish. It wasn’t your choice, and it won’t be the last time,” Gu Yi replied, stretching lazily.

Zhi Hua shuddered at the memory. “How many more times will this happen?”

“Did you feel uncontrollable energy in your lower abdomen last night?”

“Yes, I did.”

“That is inherited from your mother’s womb, hidden in your blood. As you grow, so do they. You can call it wildness, or, as humans say, demonic energy. When you have fully refined and mastered it, the process will be complete.”

Zhi Hua was alarmed; enduring a night of agony, she had only refined the tip of the iceberg!

Gu Yi understood her thoughts. “The laws of heaven are indeed unfair in this regard. To truly become human takes a very long time, or a special opportunity.”

If it were easy, the world would be full of demons transformed into humans.

“Of course, I never said these urges must always be denied.”

Hope flickered in the little fox’s eyes.

Gu Yi continued, “I remember Yang Zhu, recalling his forging process, once said that as cultivation progresses, the frequency of these urges decreases, each episode shortens, and the pain lessens greatly. Until one day, you find you still have desire, but can choose the object and timing freely. Then you may act without fear.”

Still, forging the spirit is extremely difficult.

Zhi Hua was not new to cultivation and was mentally prepared for hardship. She touched her lower abdomen thoughtfully, as if remembering something.

“By the way, sir, after entering the human world, I’ve heard that among humans, the Muo people have a similar inherited trait. That clan bases their cultivation on it. Humans are clever, with many methods; perhaps the Muo have ancestral solutions.”

Gu Yi was not deeply versed in worldly matters; such special people rarely concerned him. He was surprised. “Are there humans like this?”

“Yes, their clan once formed the Muo Kingdom, though it was later conquered by Da Xu. Rumor has it that Muo women are all beautiful, because they have a persistent spiritual mist in their lower abdomen from their mothers. The more perfectly this mist is refined, the more beautiful their appearance, their youth prolonged, their beauty everlasting. Even after their bodies mature, their faces become ever more perfect as they break through cultivation realms.”

“Is this true?” Gu Yi was skeptical.

His first thought was: what about the Muo men?

More unsettling was the idea of an adorable young girl who, upon inquiry, turns out to be forty-six years old…

Zhi Hua nodded earnestly.

Gu Yi said, “Very well. If I meet any Muo people in the future, I’ll inquire for you. But this is a secret of another clan; I can’t promise results.”

The little fox bowed respectfully. “Thank you, Immortal.”

Here, she changed her address for him.

After rising and a brief wash, yesterday’s servant brought food. Seeing Gu Yi and Zhi Hua together, his gaze was brimming with innuendo; he quickly set down the dishes and fled.

“This place was originally an unused house,” Gu Yi explained.

He understood well enough: the accommodation was ‘free’, and as for the food, who could say?

“Give me a room, I’ll stay for a while. You should devote yourself to cultivation; afterward, I’ll leave for Luyang.”

“I will work hard,” the little fox promised, then asked sweetly, “Sir, why do you want to go to Luyang?”

Gu Yi recalled the other sentence left by Xiao Yiyi.

“I need to confirm something at the Luyang Immortal Academy, and search for Xiao Yiyi’s whereabouts.”