The White-Feathered Golden-Crested Eagle Returns in Majestic Form

Xiaoyao had learned of Jing’s condition, and every day she would pore over medical texts, studying prescriptions, while also keeping him company as he wrote and played the zither, or taking occasional walks outdoors. The experiences of these years had left her with no choice but to accept Jing’s frail body. Jing, too, knew that when Xiaoyao had troubles, she preferred to hide them deep in her heart and bear them in silence. She would rather suffer alone than burden everyone else with her pain.

Winter came again, and this year it arrived especially early. Jing had long grown unusually afraid of the cold. Wrapped in a dark cloak, elegant as a jade tree in the wind, he stood quietly beneath the corridor and watched Xiaoyao build snowmen. Smiling, Xiaoyao pointed at one and said, “Jing, look, that one is you. Isn’t he handsome? So round and plump.”

Following the direction of her finger, Jing looked over and saw a stout, round-bellied snowman standing there. Beside him was a female snowman, far slimmer than the male one. The two snow figures seemed to be smiling at one another. Jing laughed and said, “Doesn’t he look like that plump doll Anian gave you?”

Xiaoyao remembered then. Before she left, Anian had given her another plump doll. It was very lovely, and she still carried it with her, taking it out now and then to toy with. “No wonder it looked so familiar,” she said. “So it was this.”

Xiaoyao skipped back into the room to fetch her doll. Holding the doll in one hand and looking at the snowman with the other, she laughed. “It really does look alike.”

Studying the plump doll, Xiaoyao asked, “What do you think is inside its belly? It’s so big. Could it be that Anian packed it full of treasure for me, afraid you were treating me unfairly? So she gave me rare and precious things instead?”

The two of them smiled at each other. Time passed so quickly. These days were truly easy, and truly free.

Thus several more years went by. Jing’s health grew worse and worse, yet he still forced himself onward, fearing that Xiaoyao would grieve and be heartbroken. During this time he returned to Qingqiu a few times. Tushan Zhen managed the Tushan family’s affairs very well, and both Quiet Night and Hu Ya had taught him well. He handled matters calmly and was courteous and refined in his conduct. Because of his parents’ story, Zhen did not become twisted or resentful. Instead, he said that his parents should never have been that way, and he acknowledged Tushan Jing as his father.

This greatly comforted Tushan Jing.

When the man in white awakened, Xiaoyao had already gone. He tasted blood in his mouth and said, “You once healed my master like this too. Have you forgotten him?”

“He gave up three lives for you,” he went on. “He was the Nine-Headed Sea Demon King, and yet he was bound by your helplessness, with no one to rely on and nowhere to go. The two of you—one a madman, the other a fool.”

As he spoke, the man transformed into a giant bird and flew toward the sea.