Bai Maomao (White Fluffy) had too many friends.
By the time he finished visiting all of them, it was already dark when the two of them were ready to head home.
Bai Maomao was held in Lang Junxian’s arms, energetically giving him directions.
His pair of black beady eyes sparkled in the dark night as he carefully identified the way home.
The forest at night was much livelier than during the day.
All sorts of insect chirps rose and fell, intertwining into what felt like a spontaneous concert, making the silent night even more bustling.
Bai Maomao flapped his little wings and squatted in Lang Junxian’s arms.
Whenever they came to a fork in the road, Lang Junxian would stop, wait for him to look carefully, then point with the tip of his wing before continuing on.
The path through the forest was uneven.
Lang Junxian stepped carefully, one foot deep, one foot shallow.
The scenery along the way didn’t change; lush forest surrounded them on all sides.
Even the stars in the sky seemed to look exactly the same.
Lang Junxian hadn’t come to the back mountain forest many times, but he still had some impression of it.
The deeper they went, the quieter it became, until even the lively insect sounds fell silent.
It was eerily quiet all around, unusually so, as if they’d been isolated in another world.
Lang Junxian stopped walking.
“Maomao, did we take the wrong path?”
Bai Maomao stretched his neck to look around, tilted his head and chirped in confusion.
He didn’t understand—this was clearly the way home, so why did it suddenly seem wrong?
Just then, a gust of wind stirred through the forest, making the still trees rustle.
Lang Junxian held Bai Maomao tightly, ears pricked up, ready to run at the first sign of danger.
Bai Maomao stretched his neck forward.
“Gaa?”
There seemed to be something ahead!
Bai Maomao wriggled, trying to jump down from Lang Junxian’s arms.
Lang Junxian noticed and tightened his hold.
“Something’s off here. Don’t be naughty.”
Bai Maomao anxiously struggled, his little black eyes full of urgency.
Something was up ahead!
He wanted to see!
Lang Junxian had to keep an eye on Bai Maomao while also staying alert to their surroundings.
In that split second of distraction, Bai Maomao broke free.
He spread his little wings, landed steadily on the ground, and immediately ran ahead.
Lang Junxian grew anxious and had no choice but to follow.
The further they went, the louder the rustling became.
His ears twitched as he tried to make out the sound carried on the wind.
It didn’t seem like mere leaves or wind.
It sounded more like some sort of roar, tangled and mixed together, warped by distance and space, eventually reaching their ears as a bizarre, distorted wind.
Bai Maomao ran for a bit and then stopped.
His beady eyes stared intently at the air to the right, his expression unusually serious.
Lang Junxian stood behind him, muscles tensed.
But Bai Maomao seemed entranced, ignoring the person behind him.
He lifted a foot and took another step forward.
It was as if he had triggered some kind of switch.
Lang Junxian felt a ripple of spiritual energy in the air, spreading out in waves like water.
In what had previously been empty space, a pitch-black crack slowly began to appear.
Bai Maomao’s eyes widened.
He dazedly stretched out a wing to touch it.
Lang Junxian suddenly came to his senses and scooped him up.
The crack gaped open like a monster’s mouth, then closed again as slowly as water coming together.
The mixed sounds in the wind went from vague to clear, then back to vague, as if they were truly just faraway winds.
Every hair on Lang Junxian’s body stood on end.
Sweat trickled down from his forehead.
A voice in his mind was screaming at him to run.
But in reality, he stood frozen.
Bai Maomao was dumbfounded in his arms.
Then, a burning light flared up behind them.
The night sky grew increasingly bright.
The chilly night suddenly turned scorching and brilliant.
This should have felt comforting, yet cold sweat continued to bead on Lang Junxian’s forehead, as if he could feel a gaze piercing straight through his back.
Holding Bai Maomao, he stood frozen like a statue, even deliberately slowing his breathing.
The bright firelight spread from behind them to their front.
Lang Junxian carefully darted a glance backward from the corner of his eye.
A long streak of firelight flashed by like a tail feather.
A clear cry pierced through the sky.
Lang Junxian’s pupils dilated to their limits in shock.
A fiery red phoenix hovered above their heads, its long tail feathers streaking across the heavens like meteors — beautiful and eerily bewitching.
In his arms, Bai Maomao stirred and slowly looked up at the sky.
The bright flames reflected in his shiny black eyes.
Bai Maomao tilted his neck back and let out a long call.
Though tender, his voice traveled far, not the least inferior to the phoenix’s clear cry moments ago.
Up in the air, the phoenix seemed not to hear, dragging its long tail feathers as it circled again and again.
Listening to its elegant calls long enough, one could almost hear a thread of sorrow.
Lang Junxian slowly moved his stiff neck and looked up at the sky with Bai Maomao.
At this point, the phoenix’s fiery red color seemed to grow dimmer.
The dazzling flames flickered uncertainly, faint traces of black fire mixed within.
Bai Maomao quietly gazed for a while, then pulled back his long-stretched neck.
He patted Lang Junxian’s arm and let out a soft chirp, urging him to hurry home.
Lang Junxian: ……………
(Who was it who insisted on running ahead just now?)
Ignoring the phoenix in midair, Lang Junxian carefully moved, quietly turning back the way they came.
Suddenly, a shrill cry rang out behind them.
Scorching firelight surged forward.
Lang Junxian turned around — the phoenix, wrapped in overwhelming flames, was charging straight at them…
Bai Maomao’s fur bristled all over.
He stood tall on Lang Junxian’s arm, spread his little wings, and faced it fearlessly.
The phoenix didn’t slow in the slightest, bringing blazing flames as it swooped toward them.
Lang Junxian instinctively shielded Bai Maomao in his arms.
The dazzling firelight forced his eyes shut—
A gentle breeze blew by.
In an instant, the flames vanished.
The forest was plunged into darkness.
The noisy sounds of insects filled his ears — a comforting kind of racket.
Lang Junxian opened his eyes in disbelief.
The stars above were quietly twinkling.
The surrounding trees stood silently.
There were no eerie black cracks, nor that sinister fiery phoenix.
It was as if everything had just been a dream.
Lang Junxian let out a light breath.
Not far away, a dim warm light glowed quietly in the dark.
— Home.
Lang Junxian’s lips curled into a small smile.
He lowered his head to look at the calm Bai Maomao in his arms.
Bai Maomao flapped his little wings and looked up at him.
“Gaa?”
Lang Junxian smiled.
“It’s nothing. Let’s go home.”
Back at home, Su Yao was meditating on a mat.
The moment the two of them stepped inside, she opened her eyes — clearly waiting for their return.
Bai Maomao nimbly jumped down, dashed into his mother’s arms, and happily rubbed his face against hers.
Su Yao scolded him,
“Acting cute won’t work. If you dare come home this late again, you’ll be facing the wall to reflect on your behavior.”
Bai Maomao twisted his body, reluctantly nodded like a little quail, then ran off to squat to the side.
After lecturing Bai Maomao, Su Yao looked at Lang Junxian by the door.
“What are you standing there for? Go reflect with your junior brother.”
Lang Junxian didn’t get angry. Instead, he felt a faint warmth in his heart and obediently walked over to sit next to Bai Maomao in meditation.
Su Yao had worried all night.
Now that they were back, her unease finally settled.
Seeing her two disciples sitting closely together, she smiled and went to the kitchen to prepare a late-night meal.
The two little ones were still growing and hadn’t reached the point in cultivation where they could go without food.
They could really eat.
After playing outside until now, they were surely starving.
Though Su Yao scolded them, her heart still ached.
She prepared all their favorite dishes before calling the two sulking by the wall over to eat.
Bai Maomao — at the sight of the food on the table, all his earlier moodiness vanished.
He affectionately clung to his mother’s leg for a bit before pouncing on the table and gobbling up the meal.
Tonight, the two seemed to eat even more than usual.
Bai Maomao had five big bowls of rice — two more than normal.
Lang Junxian was even more outrageous, polishing off ten bowls before finally stopping.
As Su Yao served them more food, she muttered under her breath, wondering just where these two had run off to all day to end up so ravenous.
With their stomachs full, Lang Junxian, as usual, carried Bai Maomao off to wash up.
Thinking back on what they’d just experienced, Lang Junxian looked at Bai Maomao who was happily playing with the water.
In the end, he decided to bury the matter deep in his heart.
Perhaps it was just a coincidence.
Saying anything would only worry their mother for nothing.
Life right now was good.
He didn’t want some vague unknown to shatter their peace.
Moreover, when he thought of that pitch-black crack and the phoenix tinged with black energy, Lang Junxian instinctively rejected it.
He didn’t want to bring it up ever again.
So let tonight’s events stay locked inside him.
He wouldn’t speak, Bai Maomao wouldn’t speak — no one would ever know.