A Feathered Crane Descends to the Mortal Realm

Chapter 32: A Feathered Crane Descends to the Mortal Realm

The morning sun rose.

Feijianzi sat upon the blue stone outside the mountain gate, gazing downward.

Bird-Beast Mountain stretched for hundreds of miles; as far as the eye could see, white clouds drifted lazily, gathering and dispersing, with the dense, dark foliage of the forest vaguely visible.

A narrow, winding path had long been swallowed by wild grass. No one had walked up this road for many years, which was why he remained the youngest disciple.

Thirty-two years might seem like the blink of an eye to a cultivator, but to Feijianzi, who still appeared as a young man in white robes, time had left no trace at all.

Yet, his senior brother's head was already streaked with white hair.

The senior brother was patrolling outside the gate, inspecting the great array laid upon the ground. Before long, he picked up a shattered piece of jade, shook his head, and tossed it into the bag at his side. Seeing Feijianzi still staring into the distance, he urged, "You've already said your goodbyes to the brothers, haven't you? Hurry to Meng City. If you collect this year's jade early, I can repair the Spirit Gathering Array."

"Yes, Senior Brother." Feijianzi looked back at the mountain gate. It was said that the gate had once been bustling with visitors, but by the time Feijianzi arrived, it was already dilapidated and overgrown with weeds. In those days, the Spirit Gathering Array could concentrate the spiritual energy of the entire Bird-Beast Mountain for their cultivation. Now, however, the energy of Bird-Beast Temple was no longer enough to sustain their dozen or so members. Because the array was overloaded, the jade used to maintain it shattered more and more frequently, forcing them to travel to Meng City below to beg for more.

This was the first time in over thirty years that Feijianzi had descended the mountain; the damage to the Spirit Gathering Array was simply too severe, and all the other senior brothers were forced to dedicate themselves to its repair.

The old crane at the gate hadn't pulled a carriage in years. As Feijianzi fastened the reins, he noticed patches of bald skin on its slender neck. The cloud carriage outside the gate was also covered in dust, but since he was representing Bird-Beast Temple in Meng City, he had spent the early morning scrubbing the carriage until it shone, leaving it to dry outside the gate.

He boarded the cloud carriage and spurred the white crane. Billowing white clouds surged up around the carriage, lifting it into the air. With a desolate cry from the crane, the carriage carried Feijianzi, tilting against the mountain wind as it flew toward the distance.

The senior brother looked up at Feijianzi's retreating back, unable to stop himself from recalling the tales their grandmaster once told—of a thousand cranes taking flight and magnificent carriages filling the sky. Could such a sight ever be seen again?

In any case, Bird-Beast Temple was withering with every passing generation.

Would his junior brother be able to secure enough jade on this trip? If not, and the Spirit Gathering Array could no longer function, what would become of Bird-Beast Temple?

Was the temple destined to fall in his own hands? A hundred years from now, what would he have left to pass on to the next generation?

Watching blankly as his junior brother vanished into the clouds on the horizon, the senior brother fell into a daze.

At the southern foot of Bird-Beast Mountain, in the shadow of the Meng River, sat a city. Spanning several miles, it was the most prosperous place for hundreds of miles around: Meng City. Today was market day, and villagers from within a hundred-mile radius were flocking toward the city. They paid the one-penny entry fee at the gate, carrying their various goods and wearing hopeful smiles as they queued to enter.

Some, unwilling to part with the penny, simply set up shop outside the gate. There were vendors selling wonton noodles, molding clay figurines, boarding donkeys and horses, renting out carts, and butchering pigs and dogs—the variety was endless. The main road outside the gate, wide enough for eight horses to trot abreast, was so crowded that people could only squeeze through sideways; it was, if anything, even livelier than the city itself.

Once inside, one found restaurants and inns, with blacksmiths, clothing shops, silver exchanges, and grain merchants lining the opposite side.

But the most famous thing in Meng City was the Lotus Fragrance Steamed Bun sold at the South Gate. These buns were so large they required two hands to hold, with thin skins and generous fillings that oozed oil with every bite. They were sold in pairs, wrapped in dried lotus leaves and tied with reeds, leaving a trail of fragrance wherever they were carried. What merchant passing through could eat one without singing its praises?

Outside the Lotus Fragrance Bun shop, in front of two tall steamers, Little Stone—with his thin neck, large head, and face smeared with streaks of black and white—was staring with wide, dark eyes at the buns inside. He covered his mouth with both hands, but he couldn't stop his saliva from flooding like a mountain torrent, dripping onto the ground.

He had been standing there for nearly half an hour.

The shop assistant finally couldn't take it anymore. "Where are your parents?"

Little Stone pointed behind him, his eyes never leaving the large buns.

Across the way was a small alley, and behind that alley lay a world of red lanterns, green wine, and decadent indulgence. Tucked into the corner was a tiny bookstore, bridging the gap between the vulgar and the refined, facing the long, winding street. It was small, containing only four bookshelves filled with various bound volumes.

"Thank you, Boss." Zi Bofeng had finally finalized the printing arrangements for Legend of the White Snake. He bowed, accepted the few ingots of silver the boss had paid in advance, and walked out with his sleeves fluttering. Although he had silver buried in the courtyard and jade beneath the blue stone, he couldn't bring himself to use them, leaving his life perpetually tight and forcing him to find other ways to earn money.

Though the bookstore was small, its owner was the kingpin of the Meng City literary market; most of his turnover happened behind the scenes, not in the public eye.

"Brother!" Hearing Zi Bofeng walk out, Little Stone jumped up, looking at him with eager eyes. If someone had attached a tail to him, it would surely be wagging furiously right now.

"Meat buns, just as I promised." Zi Bofeng smiled and walked to the restaurant across the street. He took out ten pennies and handed them over. "Ten meat buns, please. Wrap two of them in double lotus leaves."

The assistant quickly wrapped the buns in pairs, adding an extra layer of lotus leaf to one, and placed them in a straw mesh bag before handing them to Zi Bofeng.

"That's ten pennies for ten Lotus Fragrance pork buns, here you go!" the assistant called out skillfully. "Sorry everyone, this customer has bought the lot... That's all we have for today, please come earlier tomorrow, thank you!"

Zi Bofeng swatted away the dirty hand Little Stone reached toward the buns and wiped his palm with a handkerchief, which turned pitch black instantly. Just as he was feeling helpless, the chubby bookstore owner smiled and reached out, holding a ladle filled with clear water.

The water traced an arc through the air, and as the large and small hands scrubbed in the water, a burst of hearty laughter rang out.

The large buns from the Lotus Fragrance shop were so oily that one couldn't help but want to swallow their own tongue. Zi Bofeng had just finished one when he saw that Little Stone had already devoured two and was looking at him expectantly. He shook his head with a smile, broke his own bun in half, and handed it over.

After finishing his half, Zi Bofeng put the remaining six buns into the straw bag and handed it to Little Stone. "I still need to visit some friends. Take these to Father... four for him, and take two back for Auntie. Don't you dare sneak any more."

"I know!" Little Stone replied loudly. He hugged the mesh bag and turned to run.

"Slow down, don't trip!" Zi Bofeng shook his head helplessly. The little guy was definitely planning to beg for another half-bun from his father; he truly didn't know how that little stomach of his could hold so much.

Although he had a bun and a half in his belly, he felt even hungrier. Zi Bofeng was at the age where he was growing fast and needed hearty meals; how could a bun and a half be enough? But since that was all the Lotus Fragrance buns left, Zi Bofeng decided to go find someone to mooch a meal off of!

Today was one of Meng City's twice-monthly market days. Since last night, Little Stone had been clamoring to come to Meng City to play. Zi Bofeng knew that any excuse was just a cover—Little Stone was missing his "wife."

It just so happened that Zi Bofeng had many things to do, so he decided to bring Little Stone to Meng City.

Zi Jian hadn't been comfortable with the two brothers coming to the city alone, and being a man who couldn't sit still, he had brought his carpentry and masonry tools along with them.

The journey had been long and the weather hot, which had exhausted Zi Bofeng. He began to contemplate building a post station in Lower Yan Village, or at the very least, getting a horse carriage. He had had enough of a life where transportation relied entirely on walking.

Just as he was thinking this, Zi Bofeng suddenly heard a gasp from outside. He turned his head and saw everyone looking up at the sky, so he followed their gaze.

Zi Bofeng's jaw dropped.

Little Stone struggled to push his way through the crowd. He had just caught a glimpse of a shadow sweeping across the sky, and the marketplace had erupted into chaos; people were pouring out of their rooms, shouting, "The immortals are here! The immortals are here!"

Before long, the sound of gongs and drums echoed from ahead. Several bailiffs were shouting and driving the crowd back, while the local guards beating the drums held their heads so high they were practically staring at the sky.

Escorted by those guards and bailiffs, a snow-white crane strode forward on its long, slender legs. Behind the crane, a Cloud Carriage shrouded in swirling mist carried a youth dressed in Taoist robes, who looked down upon the common folk with a lofty gaze.

Little Stone squeezed out from the throng, one hand shielding the steamed bun tucked against his chest, the other braced desperately against his knees as he craned his neck to look up. The crane's legs, taller than any man, swayed back and forth beside the bailiffs, and the Cloud Carriage trailing behind it had no wheels at all.

"Wow!" Little Stone's eyes lit up instantly. If that crane were turned into meat buns, how many meals would that make!

"Move aside, move aside!" Seeing the crowd growing denser, with some people greedily inhaling the mist drifting from the Cloud Carriage in hopes of catching a whiff of "immortal aura," the bailiffs grew anxious. The City Magistrate was waiting outside his manor, and making the Magistrate wait too long or causing the immortal to lose patience were both crimes punishable by death!

They raised their clubs and struck out in all directions. A chorus of groans erupted as the crowd surged once more, pushing and shoving against one another.

Record of Raising Monsters