Imperial Weight Chapter 10
Translated by Sylver (ko-fi)
Chapter 10
The past was actually nothing special.
The first time he met Xingyi, Xingyi wasn't yet called Xingyi—he was a prince with the surname Lin. But Little Phoenix was still Little Phoenix. His family was impoverished, and his father, wailing in despair, sold him to a brothel. From then on, he had to learn to be someone who read the room and pleased others. His professional name was Feng Huang.
The fortune teller had said, "Your child's fate is too heavy. He was born with a destiny of wealth and nobility. Though it doesn't quite match an emperor's fate, it's not far off. If you keep him in your household, he will surely bring death to the entire family."
At the time, Little Phoenix was too young to understand what separation meant, so he wasn't sad. After leaving home, he was raised by the madams in the brothel and grew into a carefree youth. Because he was good-looking and even luckier, he basically never experienced the hardships and suffering that others endured. Among those of the same Feng generation, others had to start entertaining clients at thirteen or fourteen, but he alone, thanks to his appearance, became the top courtesan in one fell swoop, famous throughout the land. He kept his name on the roster until he was sixteen, and even spending ten thousand gold would only earn someone a glimpse of him.
Back then, Little Phoenix was practically the tyrant of the brothel, living a life of drunken extravagance day after day. Ordinary clients couldn't see him, and if they did manage to see him and dared to get handsy, there were people to handle them for him. The only drawback was his lack of freedom. He liked going out to play, but didn't like being taken out by all sorts of old men. The daily life of smiling obsequiously and being insincere gradually bored him.
Others asked him, "Little Feng Huang, you've even saved enough for your redemption fee, and you're getting older now. What do you want to do in the future?"
Male courtesans over seventeen, in the clients' words, were no longer "tender and fresh," and thus worthless.
Little Phoenix scoffed. Even in casual conversation, his eyes held the beauty of autumn waters, frivolous yet intoxicating. "Don't be foolish—how would they ever let me go?"
More than ten years of carefree living had cultivated his naivety, but hadn't made him stupid. He was proud, sharp, lively, and clever—possessing all four qualities. Even an ordinary person wouldn't fare too badly with these traits. As the brothel's biggest cash cow, running away was basically impossible. After careful consideration, Little Phoenix said, "Probably I'll eventually be redeemed by some wealthy merchant and kept in a separate residence."
The others laughed sourly. "Impossible. How could you have such good luck? No one's willing to pay a fortune for a male prostitute. Little Feng Huang, you'll probably end up like the rest of us, taking clients. You need to adjust your expectations."
Little Phoenix was unmoved.
His luck really was that good. It had been that way since childhood.
One day, he spent an entire morning picking out ninety-nine cherry pits, placing the flesh in a silver dish to freeze with crushed ice. Outside, a madam sent word for him to prepare—there was a new client to meet.
Little Phoenix symbolically washed his hands, casually threw on some clothes, and lazily got up to go out. He'd already decided that if the madam questioned why he hadn't groomed himself properly, he'd say he was "a beauty too languid with spring to rise from her couch"—today he was going for a lazy, understated look.
As soon as he went out, by sheer coincidence, he bumped right into a man's embrace.
Little Phoenix looked up and froze.
That was the most handsome client he'd ever seen.
---
The box that Phoenix Ming Zun had sent to Little Phoenix was stored in a storage ring, kindly transported by Xingyi, and placed outside the garden for Little Phoenix to open himself.
Little Phoenix squatted in front of the box, tilting his head to look at Xingyi, chirping repeatedly. Xingyi glanced at him twice, then turned and walked away, heading toward his armory. Little Phoenix flew to his shoulder, landing just before the door and following behind him with his little waddle for a few steps, his bean-like eyes still shining with light as before.
But this time, Xingyi forgot to open the door for him.
Little Phoenix tapped at the door with his beak tip for a while with no response. So he patiently continued tapping for two incense sticks' worth of time, until finally Xingyi inside couldn't help but laugh. "Are you a woodpecker?"
He still opened the door though, and as before, allowed him to squat on the threshold.
Xingyi reached out to stroke his round belly and fluffy little head, watching him quietly. After a moment, he suddenly said in a low voice, "In the end, you're just a pet who only knows about food and toys. Changing masters would be all the same."
Little Phoenix nuzzled against his palm, then extended his soft little wings and placed them in Xingyi's hand, meaning to say: I'm not like that.
Unfortunately, he temporarily couldn't tell Xingyi this.
Xingyi's temperament was aloof, and he was even less willing to interact with people. Those celestial maidens and boys, immortals and demons who admired him—not one hadn't been rebuffed by him. Little Phoenix wasn't stupid; he naturally knew that since Xingyi didn't recognize him now, and he himself couldn't transform into human form, this was actually an advantage for the time being.
He just didn't know what to do about this advantage later on. When would he finally be able to transform?
Xingyi let him nuzzle his palm, saying softly, "Actually, you don't need to stay with me. Nothing stays by my side. The flowers, plants, and animals I've raised in the past—not one has survived. Do you understand?"
Little Phoenix looked at him and shook his head.
Xingyi laughed. "Do you only understand what sounds good to hear?"
Little Phoenix hesitated, unsure whether to nod or shake his head at these words. While he was still thinking, Xingyi had already let him go and returned to the table.
Little Phoenix quietly stayed by the door, squatting motionlessly, watching him.
He didn't go anywhere that afternoon.
The box that Phoenix Ming Zun had left wasn't remembered by Little Phoenix until the next morning. Xingyi had skipped the court session again. Little Phoenix, being a bird, woke up particularly early. He didn't wake Xingyi, but went to take a stroll in the garden instead. After waddling around a full circuit, Little Phoenix finally noticed the large box.
He circled around it once and saw that it was silent inside—he had no idea what was in it. He looked at the latch, fluttered his little wings to fly up, and used his beak to pry open the clasp. With a click, the light of dawn poured in, illuminating... a completely bare plucked chicken.
The plucked chicken was still sleeping soundly.
Little Phoenix was startled at first, but upon closer inspection, he discovered it seemed to be a certain acquaintance. The originally brilliant red-gold feathers were completely gone, looking quite pitiful.
He thought for a moment, hopped inside, and smacked the Golden-Winged Bird on the head with one claw. "Wake up, where are your feathers?"
The plucked chicken slowly came to. Upon seeing clearly that it was Little Phoenix, he immediately wailed loudly. "You actually locked me up for a whole day and night! Tell me, did you go seduce the Emperor again! You have to take responsibility for me! I'm bald and you have to take responsibility for that too!"
Little Phoenix looked at him with disdain. "What are you doing here? Why did Ming Zun send you over?"
The Golden-Winged Bird immediately stopped crying. He said earnestly, "After you beat me up, I went back to complain to Ming Zun, but not only did Ming Zun not stand up for me, he beat me up too. But the most important thing is still my feathers. I'm here to make you take responsibility."
Little Phoenix continued his disdain. "I didn't pluck your feathers. I won't take responsibility. I just won't."
Tears glistened in the Golden-Winged Bird's eyes. "You didn't pluck my feathers, but you made me grow soft white feathers. I don't want to be a gaudy, multicolored Golden-Winged Bird—I'd be laughed at. Ming Zun also said these white feathers would stay this way, so I thought about it and figured I might as well shave everything off, then have you turn all my feathers white. That way it would look good too."
Little Phoenix: "...Ming Zun really said that?"
The Golden-Winged Bird said, "Of course! Little chubby bird, I'm begging you, please help me. I'll refund your money—I'll give you double! I'm quite poor too, this is already my limit. You know that, otherwise I wouldn't have gone out to scam people, especially scamming such a round little bean like you."
Little Phoenix fell silent for a moment.
Actually, he'd only been trying to scare the Golden-Winged Bird at the time. There was no such thing as "once it grows out, it'll be this color forever." The Golden-Winged Bird was a phoenix descendant. Although he didn't have the energy for nirvana and rebirth, making a few tufts of feathers grow back as they were wouldn't be difficult.
But this Golden-Winged Bird had actually shaved off all his feathers.
Little Phoenix said, "It won't work. If you go home and recuperate for a few months, your feathers will grow back. White feathers aren't good—they'll look down on you."
The Golden-Winged Bird squatted beside him. In the snow, there was one fluffy little round ball and one pitiful, wretched plucked chicken—quite an eyesore. The Golden-Winged Bird said, "No, I want white feathers. White is so beautiful! Red-gold is tacky."
Little Phoenix silently shifted his claws to the side, moving a bit farther away from him.
The Golden-Winged Bird followed suit, continuing to plead, "Please, okay? From now on I can follow you around. You've latched onto the Emperor now. If you could steal some of the sweet dew or celestial herbs from his palace and secretly give them to me, I'll resell them, and we'll definitely make big money! You won't have to work so hard anymore."
...That actually sounded a bit tempting.
Little Phoenix smugly refused him. "No, I'm not short on money now. But if you insist on following me around, that's acceptable. I'll cover you."
The Golden-Winged Bird extended his wing and slapped hard. "Good! From now on, you're my big brother!"
His "big brother" was seven or eight times smaller than him, a round little ball who was directly sent rolling backward several times by this slap, tumbling headfirst into the soft snow with only a pair of little claws and a round bird butt sticking out.
…..
From then on, the Golden-Winged Bird had a body of snow-white feathers and continued his talisman reselling business at Linglong Gate.
When he had free time, he would come to find Little Phoenix to play and chat. Little Phoenix had been chirping at Xingyi constantly, so he was glad to have a place to speak human language freely. The two birds, one large and one small, met each time like they were doing something illicit, rendezvousing in the bamboo forest behind Fuli Palace while Xingyi was forging weapons and manipulating the Star Disc.
Since Little Phoenix couldn't transform, the Golden-Winged Bird considerately stopped transforming into human form in front of him from then on. The two birds would solemnly squat on stone chairs among the bamboo forest, arranging on the stone table some lian fruit picked on the spot and fruit wine brought back by the Golden-Winged Bird, eating fruit and drinking wine with great refinement, quite like distinguished scholars.
Little Phoenix was well-versed in the ways of drinking banquets and business dinners from his time in the mortal realm, often leaving the Golden-Winged Bird stunned by his talk.
Little Phoenix spoke earnestly, "You have to make yourself seem impressive before others will believe what you say. Why are so many deals made at the drinking table? Because people are easiest to fool at the drinking table. You need to learn to boast, and you also need to learn to help others boast. When they're happy, of course they'll buy your things."
Little Phoenix taught the Golden-Winged Bird how to boast for many days. The Golden-Winged Bird grew increasingly worshipful of him, making Little Phoenix feel a bit giddy. Their conversations gradually transitioned from refined scholarly discourse to mutual boasting.
On this day, the Golden-Winged Bird leaned over with a gossipy expression and asked, "By the way, what's really going on between you and the Emperor? The Emperor is such a difficult person to get along with—aren't you scared?"
Little Phoenix said proudly, "Not scared. He's very good."
The Golden-Winged Bird asked again, "Was it really you who actively sought out the Emperor, and the Emperor just took you in as a pet bird?"
Little Phoenix leaned back against the wine jug, airing out his two jade-white little claws, his fluffy little head tilted to one side as he activated boasting and nonsense mode. "Of course not! I didn't actively seek him out. He just looked at me once and insisted on taking me as a pet. I heard people in the mortal realm say that actually, the one being kept is the true master, and the person keeping the pet is called a 'shit-shoveling servant.'"
It was afternoon, just after waking from a nap, that drowsy, hazy time. Inside Fuli Palace, all was quiet. In the tranquil snowy bamboo forest, the voices of the two speakers were clearly audible, amplified quite a bit.
Xingyi came walking through the snow. Upon detecting conversation sounds inside, he stopped and listened intently.
He'd come to fetch ten-thousand-year bamboo shoots—their hearts were hard as iron, to be used as material for a longsword he was currently forging. Xingyi had an excellent memory. With just one voice, he recognized one of the speakers as the Golden-Winged Bird he'd encountered that day when he went looking for Little Phoenix.
He hadn't heard the other voice before, and there couldn't possibly be such a person in Fuli Palace. But that voice was clear and lively, stirring something in his heart, as if some sealed fragment was being lifted, as if reuniting with an old friend.
The owner of that voice was still speaking, sounding extremely pleased and proud:
"A shit-shoveling servant, as the name implies—because he shovels shit for me, I've also bestowed upon him the title of servant. He was crying and fighting to be my shit-shoveling servant. The one and only Emperor Shit-Shoveling Servant in heaven and earth—do you see any other phoenixes with this treatment? There aren't any, it's impossible. I'm the one and only Little Phoenix in heaven and earth. Isn't that amazing?"
