Rising Phoenix

The slender woman worked busily above him, sending slight tremors through the tree; branches and leaves shuffled and swayed as she quietly negotiated with the squirrel, emptying its nest; the both lucky and unfortunate squirrel had no defense against her glib tongue and fled, leavings its cache to the new king of the mountain.

Feng Zhiwei grabbed the pine cones and began climbing down.

As she shook the branches, playfulness grew in Ning Yi’s heart.

As he mapped out his position relative to the tree, he stepped forward and cried out in surprise before kicking the tree.

But he had forgotten that he had sprained his ankle, so when his foot hit the tree the sudden agony shocked out a real cry of pain.

Feng Zhiwei whipped her head downwards in shock and lost her balance on the thin branch; she cried out in surprise as a handful of her trophies tumbled out of her hands as she fell.

Falling exactly towards Ning Yi.

Falling right into his embrace.

Ning Yi had long since positioned himself to catch her, and with her in his arms he casually commented: “How could I resist a beauty throwing herself at me?”

Feng Zhiwei immediately understood that she had been tricked and anger filled her; she pushed him aside and cried: “A wasteful prince should be assassinated!”

Ning Yi stumbled with the push but refused to let her go as he leaned against the tree; unhurriedly, he leaned forward and whispered into her ear: “Then stab me, I’m waiting.”

Feng Zhiwei looked up at his face, so close to hers; his eyes were clear and his brows elegant, and despite all their troubles he still carried that strange power of enchantment. His quiet, playful voice was like the mist of the mountains, indecipherable, tangling her like floating silk.

Her heart trembled and she hurriedly pulled herself away, grabbing a handful of pine needles and crying out: “Take this!”

Ning Yi cried out in faux pain and let her out of his embrace, quietly panting as he smiled and said: “You really stabbed me, how vicious…”

Feng Zhiwei ignored him, stooping to recover her pine cones and handing them to Ning Yi; but despite her hard work, the man refused to accept them, leaning against the tree lazily and saying: “It’s too hard.”

Did he want her to crack them for him? Feng Zhiwei eyed the man coolly and reminded him: “Your Highness, you injured your eyes, not your teeth.”

“Have you not heard of the Poison Eye Insect’s poison?” Ning Yi replied, his face indecipherable. “The creature is said to be descended from the Candle Dragon, a snake of the netherworld, its eyes directly linked to the hell. It feeds on poison and young maiden eyes, and when it reaches adulthood it becomes the Origin of Ten Thousand Poisons. With all the gathered resentment of the deceased, its victims are blinded and all organs in their head will gradually deteriorate until they die, so my weak teeth make sense.”

Feng Zhiwei eyed Ning Yi suspiciously; he definitely did not look that miserable, but her heart still softened. The man did not even mention his blindness at first, so she sighed and began cracking the pine nuts with her teeth.

As the boss casually waited to enjoy his pine nut meat, he called out to remind her: “Don’t leave any of your saliva on it.”

Feng Zhiwei chomped furiously, grinding the pine nuts between her teeth.

When she placed the small handful of warm, wet pine nuts into Ning Yi’s hand, happiness filled Ning Yi’s heart, comforting him for his blindness; at that moment, he finally realized that being blind had some use after all.

When he could only see with his heart, the views were suddenly more beautiful, the sound of her breathing clearer, and this pine nut that he had never liked was now so fragrant and intoxicating.

He slowly chewed the small handful of pine nut, a quiet smile on his face.

“These pine nuts can only ward off starvation, but they will never fill us. We need to find food.” Feng Zhiwei planned: “When we are further into the mountain we can dig up Sealwort and Tuckahoe roots.”

But Ning Yi did not reply, suddenly freezing, and Feng Zhiwei immediately fell silent.

Footfalls crunched leaves behind them and a singing voice neared; suddenly, the song cut off and a surprised northern accent called out: “Who are you?”

Feng Zhiwei examined the new man, a simple woodsman carrying a hare and an assortment of mountain herbs on a shoulder pole. There was not a single thing suspicious about him.

“Big Brother,” Feng Zhiwei politely called back, “We brothers are lost and injured. Where are we, and do you know of a way out of the mountain?”

“This is the south foot of Mount Ji Yang.” The woodsman replied, “Do you see that abandoned temple over there? If you walk for a day southwards from that temple, you will leave the mountain. Your injuries look pretty serious, and it’s probably going to rain soon. My home is not far away, you can come rest there.”

But how could Feng Zhiwei dare take his offer, so she smiled and demurred: “We wish to hurry in our journey. If it rains, we will take shelter in the temple.” Thanking the man, Feng Zhiwei asked if she could buy the hare and herbs he carried, patting herself all over for any silver.

As she looked for money, the woodsman shook his head and replied: “This? This is not worth much, take it. Here.”

Feng Zhiwei thanked the man as he handed her the goods. Feng Zhiwei hesitated for a moment and then spoke again: “Could I trouble Big Brother to tell no one you saw us.”

“Of course, of course!” The woodsman happily agreed, smiling as he glanced at the two. As he turned away, the woodsman muttered to himself loudly, “A couple dressing like men to elope?”

Feng Zhiwei smiled deafly and played dumb as the woodsman hefted his pole and walked away, an ambiguous smile on his face.

Ning Yi shrugged his shoulder.

Feng Zhiwei immediately pressed down on his hand.

Ning Yi lifted his eyes and looked Feng Zhiwei; Feng Zhiwei stared into his eyes, slowly and resolutely shaking her head.

Ning Yi frowned, but he did not move.

The woodsman was cheerfully oblivious, not at all aware that he had barely escaped death, his song already back on his lips as he walked off.

“Feng Zhiwei has the heart of the Bodhisattva.” Ning Yi finally said somewhat sarcastically.

“I only kill I must. Killing innocents only brings bad karma.” Feng Zhiwei replied, not looking at the prince.

“When he points the way for the assassins, he will not be innocent, but then it will be too late for us to kill the man we should have killed.”

“How are you so sure he will betray us?”

“People die for money; birds die for food.” Ning Yi calmly replied, “As long as he is promised a fortune, he will definitely speak. If you were clever, you would not have stopped me.”