Xiao Jiu

Moonlight poured in through the window, laying a layer of silver frost across the floor.

Yun Jingheng lay on the bed, breathing evenly, deeply asleep.

Within the Sea of Spirit, the Full Moon hung silently, casting down a gentle radiance.

Beside it, the silver fox curled into a ball opened its eyes.

Its pale golden pupils gleamed faintly beneath the moonlight.

It twitched its ears, then its nose, before slowly rising to its feet. Its nine tails gently unfurled like nine wisps of silver mist.

It raised its head and looked at the moon.

Then it lowered its head, looking below at Yun Jingheng's sleeping consciousness, like a tranquil lake reflecting the moonlight.

It stepped forward, walking toward the lake's surface.

Yun Jingheng was dreaming.

In the dream, he had returned to Earth, to that observatory in the desert.

The telescope was still there, the data was still there, and so was the starry sky at three in the morning.

He sat before the telescope, watching the fluctuating curves on the screen.

Then he heard footsteps.

They were soft and light, like paw pads stepping on sand.

He turned around.

A silver fox stood behind him, its nine tails swaying gently as its pale blue eyes watched him.

"You—"

Yun Jingheng froze.

The little fox tilted its head, then spoke in a voice as childish as a little girl's.

"This place is prettier than that pitch-black place."

Yun Jingheng said, "..."

"When did you wake up?"

"Just now."

It looked up at the sky, though there was no sky here, only an endless sea of stars.

"Do you have a moon here too?"

Yun Jingheng fell silent for a moment, then pointed at the observatory dome in the distance. "Does that count?"

The little fox glanced at it and shook its head. "That one's fake."

It looked at Yun Jingheng, its expression as serious as a little adult's.

"It's here."

It lifted a front paw and pointed at Yun Jingheng's chest.

Yun Jingheng looked down at his chest, then back at the little fox before him.

"What is your name?"

The little fox tilted its head and thought for a moment. "I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"No one ever gave me a name."

It said, "Mama called me Xiao Jiu, but she died."

When it said that, its tone was calm, so calm that it did not sound like a child who had lost a parent.

He sat down beside the little fox and looked at the distant stars.

"Then you'll be called Xiao Jiu from now on."

The little fox turned to look at him.

"It was the name your mother gave you. Don't lose it."

The little fox remained silent for a long time.

Then it gave a soft "Mm" and rested its head on his knee.

Its nine tails curled around, wrapping both itself and him inside.

It was fluffy and warm.

"This place really is prettier than that pitch-black place," it said again, its voice muffled.

Yun Jingheng reached out and rubbed its head.

"Then stay a little longer."

"Mm."

Morning.

Yun Jingheng opened his eyes and stared blankly at the ceiling for three seconds.

That dream last night had been too real.

He instinctively sank into the Sea of Spirit—

The Full Moon was still there, hanging silently.

Beside it, a silver fox lay sleeping, its nine tails wrapped around itself in a ball.

But its ears twitched.

Then it opened one eye and glanced at him.

"Morning."

That childish voice rang out in his mind.

Yun Jingheng said, "...?"

It had really woken up?

He sat up and looked at the fox within his Sea of Spirit, not knowing what to say for a moment.

The little fox looked back at him.

One human and one fox stared at each other for five seconds.

"What are you spacing out for?" the little fox asked.

Yun Jingheng took a deep breath. "I was thinking about what to call you from now on."

"Xiao Jiu."

"Can I call you that in front of other people too?"

The little fox thought for a moment. "Then when you call my name, just call me in your mind. I can hear you."

Yun Jingheng fell silent for a moment. "...So no matter what I think from now on, you can hear it?"

"Of course."

"..."

The little fox rolled over and shifted into a more comfortable position. "I can't be bothered listening to all those messy thoughts of yours."

"I only listen when you call me."

Yun Jingheng let out a breath of relief.

"However," the little fox added, "if you run into danger or your emotions fluctuate too much, I can hear you."

"Would that count as a passive skill?"

"What is a passive skill?"

"Nothing."

Yun Jingheng threw back the covers, got out of bed, and walked to the window.

Outside, the sky had already brightened.

The training ground in the distance was empty. Sunlight spilled down, warming the ground until it was faintly hot.

He suddenly remembered something.

"Xiao Jiu."

"Mm?"

"Can you come out? Not in the Sea of Spirit, but outside."

The little fox was silent for a moment.

"I can, but not for too long."

"Why?"

"Because I am your soul spirit."

There was a hint of matter-of-factness in its voice. "You and I are one. If I stay outside for too long, it will consume your Soul Power."

Yun Jingheng understood.

"Then when can you come out?"

"When you become stronger."

The little fox said, "When you are strong enough to support me."

Yun Jingheng said, "..."

Why did that sound so strange?

Over the following days, Yun Jingheng gained a companion in his cultivation.

Xiao Jiu spent most of its time sleeping in the Sea of Spirit, but occasionally woke up to watch him practice swordsmanship.

"That strike was too slow."

"That strike was off."

"That strike had enough power, but the angle was wrong."

Yun Jingheng finally could not take it anymore. "Come on, then. If you're so good, you do it."

A streak of silver light shot from between his brows and landed beside him.

The Nine-Tailed Frost Moon Fox manifested in physical form.

Its pale golden pupils, silvery-white fur, and nine tails swayed gently in the morning light, with faint frost flowers forming at their tips.

The temperature on the training ground plummeted.

Yun Jingheng stared at it blankly.

This was the first time it had truly appeared before him.

It was not a phantom within the Sea of Spirit, but a real soul beast with a physical body.

"What are you looking at?"

Xiao Jiu tilted its head. "Didn't you want me to do it?"

It raised a front paw and gave it a light swipe.

A silver-white Moon Blade flew from its claw, faster, sharper, and colder than the Crescent Slash he had swung.

The humanoid target thirty meters away split neatly down the middle.

The cut was smooth as a mirror, covered in a thin layer of frost.

Yun Jingheng fell silent.

The little fox withdrew its paw and looked back at him.

"Did you see clearly?"

Yun Jingheng nodded.

"Then keep practicing."

With that, it turned into a streak of silver light and burrowed back between his brows.

It left behind frost all over the ground, and a six-year-old "child" questioning his entire life.

Two years later.

Yun Jingheng was eight years old.

By Sea God Lake, he stood at the water's edge with the Moonlight Sword in hand.

The blade was pale silver, faint and indistinct, as though he were holding a beam of solidified moonlight.

His eyes were closed.

Wind blew across the lake, lifting the hem of his clothes.

The crescent mark between his brows glowed faintly.

Within the Sea of Spirit, Xiao Jiu lay prone, its tail swaying lightly.

"Left."

Yun Jingheng did not move.

"Right."

He still did not move.

"Front."

He remained still.

Just as Xiao Jiu was about to speak, Yun Jingheng suddenly moved.

He swung his sword, sending a Crescent Slash shooting forth—not ahead, but behind him—

On a tree thirty meters away, a spying bird-type soul beast fell to the ground at once, bearing a faint Moonlight Mark on its body.

The next second, Yun Jingheng appeared before it.

The sword tip stopped three inches from the bird's throat.

The bird was so frightened that its entire body went rigid, unable to move.

Yun Jingheng glanced at it and sheathed his sword.

"Go."

The sparrow flapped its wings and flew away without looking back.

Xiao Jiu snorted in his spiritual sea.

"Not bad."

Yun Jingheng sheathed his sword and looked at the lake.

Two years had passed.

His Soul Power had grown steadily, his use of the Moonlight Sword had become increasingly refined, and he could now cast Crescent Slash instantly, blindly, in rapid succession, or even unleash three at once.

He could use the Moonlight Mark's pursuit more than ten times in a single battle without feeling exhausted.

His control over Lunar Phase Flow had also changed from passive activation at the beginning to something he could guide actively.

Though he still could not control it entirely at will, at least he knew how to enter New Moon, Crescent Moon, and Full Moon.

As for Blood Moon—

He had tried it twice.

The first time was when he had just turned seven. He had wanted to force his way into the Blood Moon state and see what it felt like.

The moment he touched that threshold, a violent surge of emotion had rushed into his heart, and he had nearly lost control.

Xiao Jiu had woken in fright at once. A freezing aura had descended and forcibly dragged him out of that state.

"Are you crazy?"

It rarely cursed.

"Is that something you can touch?"

Yun Jingheng lay on the ground, gasping for breath, unable to say anything for a long while.

The second time was on his eighth birthday.

He had not touched it voluntarily. It was a full-moon night, and after fighting for too long in the Full Moon state, he had automatically begun transforming toward Blood Moon.

This time, he had not lost control.

He could clearly feel that power—violent, bloodthirsty, mad, yet so powerful, so enticing.

He had suppressed it.

Or rather, Xiao Jiu had helped him suppress it.

"Not yet."

It said,

"Wait until you're a little older and a little stronger."

Three days later.

The homeroom teacher of the Shrek Inner Court Genius Class arrived by Sea God Lake with five students.

"Jing Heng."

The homeroom teacher was a man in his early twenties, a Title Douluo. His tone was polite and formal.

Yun Jingheng looked at the group before him, then at Yun Ming standing beneath a distant tree, and roughly understood what was going on.

"Hello, Brother Lan."

Lan Muzi smiled and got straight to the point.

"I want the students in my class to spar with you."

He paused, then added,

"Of course, you may refuse."

Yun Jingheng's gaze fell on the five students.

The oldest looked eleven or twelve, while the youngest was about his age, around eight.

Those five pairs of eyes held curiosity, scrutiny, eagerness to try—and a trace of barely noticeable... dissatisfaction.

He smiled.

Two years had passed.

For those two years, he had trained with the elders of Sea God Pavilion, with the little fox, and by himself.

He had never fought anyone his own age.

"Sure."

He said.

The Moonlight Sword condensed in his hand, its blade pale silver and faintly visible.

"You... who wants to go first?"