A Celestial, a Mortal, a Fated Encounter

Chapter 33: A Chance Encounter Between Immortal and Mortal

Little Stone was crouching at the very front, clutching his knees. Amidst the surging crowd, he lost his balance and tumbled onto the road.

"You little brat, get up!" The official guard's club immediately swung down toward Little Stone's head. Little Stone let out a cry of pain, curled up while shielding his head, and screamed for help.

"Stop!" A crisp command rang out, and the guard's club froze in mid-air. Little Stone felt the pain vanish. He looked up to see an Immortal, seemingly glowing under the sunlight, looking down at him. "Are you unhurt?"

Little Stone stared blankly, not knowing how to respond. Only one thought occupied his mind: This person... he feels just like my brother!

It wasn't that they looked alike, but that they felt alike.

"Brother Crane, help him up," Feijianzi said. He had intended to fly directly into the Prefect's residence, but the Old Crane was aged and frail; having flown all the way here, it was already exhausted, forcing them to land near the city gate.

The Old Crane lowered its head and shook it from side to side. The dirty clothes made it reluctant to bite down, but it eventually managed to grab the back of Little Stone's collar. It lifted him up, and Little Stone spun in the air, unsure whether to be startled or delighted, wailing loudly while swinging the steamed buns in his hands back and forth.

"Put him down." Zi Bofeng stood by the roadside, looking up at the Feathered Crane Immortal. His eyes were clear and bright, devoid of any fear or worship, as if he were merely observing an ordinary mortal.

From the visions once revealed by the Porcelain Shard, Zi Bofeng knew that such people existed in this world. Moreover, he possessed similar powers himself, so he felt only curiosity, not wonder.

Feijianzi looked down. Zi Bofeng, dressed in simple Confucian robes, met his gaze with calm indifference. Despite being just an ordinary youth, his eyes were unexpectedly placid, lacking the worship and longing seen in other commoners. His gaze was level—one might even say condescending.

It was like a bystander looking down upon the world from high above the clouds.

With just a single glance, it was as if he had seen through Feijianzi's forty-some years of life.

Such a state of mind, Feijianzi thought at that moment, if he were to come to the mountain gate to cultivate immortality with me, he would surely defy the heavens.

But in the next second, he shook his head in regret.

A faint spiritual aura drifted from the youth's body, rising like mist. This was a sign of a profound spiritual root, but in this world where spiritual energy was withered, a person who constantly leaked aura like this would likely find that their rate of gathering energy could not keep up with the rate of dissipation. This youth would likely not live past twenty before dying from the total exhaustion of his own spiritual energy.

What a pity.

Stopping the guards from brandishing their clubs—in truth, they had already stopped in their tracks—Feijianzi asked, "What is your name?"

"Zi Bofeng," Zi Bofeng replied. He looked up at the Immortal, who appeared to be around his own age. "And you?"

Heh... Feijianzi smiled. Since descending the mountain, this was the first time someone had asked for his name, and with such an equal attitude.

"Feijianzi."

As he watched Feijianzi depart, Zi Bofeng's brows furrowed involuntarily.

Seeing Feijianzi reminded him of a "Jade Tax" recorded in the ledgers of Lower Yan Village.

In fact, the taxes in Lower Yan Village were lower than in other villages because Lower Yan had a special levy: the Jade Tax.

Every thirty years, each household was required to pay three pieces of jade or one piece of high-quality jade. When Zi Bofeng helped Meng City settle its accounts, he discovered that this tax covered over a dozen jade-producing villages under Meng City's jurisdiction. With fifty households per village, that amounted to over three thousand pieces of jade every thirty years. Where did all this jade go?

The records stated it was "submitted to the Immortals."

However, this thirty-year Jade Tax had just been collected ten years ago. Now that ten years had passed, Lower Yan Village had only just begun to recover its vitality.

I hope... it is not for the Jade Tax.

Zi Bofeng frowned. He wanted to verify this, but he saw the Prefect, Qianshan, and others standing outside the gate, welcoming the arrival of the Immortal. Guards were posted every three steps and sentries every five, with security as tight as if facing a formidable enemy.

For the moment, there was no one he could ask for confirmation.

"Brother, Brother..." Little Stone tugged at the distracted Zi Bofeng and pointed ahead. "Uncle is coming."

Not far ahead, Zi Jian stood by the roadside, looking blankly at the crowded street, unaware of what had happened.

Uncle Zhuzi was drenched in sweat, pulling a flatbed cart as he ran quickly along the main road. Zhuzi's Mother lay on the cart behind him. This morning, before Zhuzi had even set out to search for jade, his mother's illness had flared up again.

"Zhuzi, slow down, don't rush, Mother is fine... slow down..." Hearing his son's heavy, bovine-like breathing, Zhuzi's Mother felt a pang of heartache and murmured softly.

But Zhuzi was focused only on the road; how could he hear her pleas? He kept his head down and just kept running.

Having run over a hundred miles, even a sturdy man like Zhuzi was panting, his throat feeling as if it were on fire.

An eagle's cry rang out from the sky, and a massive shadow swept over the cart. Zhuzi looked up to see a giant eagle circling above. In the direction the giant eagle was heading, Meng City was already vaguely in sight.

"Mother, we're almost there."

But when they reached the city gate, the main road was already packed solid. Zhuzi shouted with a hoarse voice, "Make way, please, have mercy, have mercy and make way! My mother is ill, I need to take her into the city to see a doctor."

Hearing his cries, the pedestrians shifted slightly, but the place was already packed tight. Many peddlers had finally secured a good spot; why would they move? After shouting for a long time, his voice grew raspy, yet he hadn't moved forward more than a few steps.

"Make way, I beg you, have mercy!" Hearing his mother's coughing grow more urgent and feeble, a sob crept into Zhuzi's voice.

"Uncle Zhuzi, over here! Over here!" Zi Bofeng walked out of the city gate with Little Stone on his back. Little Stone, riding on Zi Bofeng's shoulders, spotted the anxiously shouting Zhuzi at once and waved a pure white feather like a windmill, beaming with joy.

This feather had fallen from the giant crane and landed right in Little Stone's collar; it had now become his trophy.

Zi Bofeng, however, was not so oblivious. Seeing the frantic look on Uncle Zhuzi's face, he knew his mother's illness must have flared up again.

"Uncle Zhuzi, has Second Grandma's illness flared up again?" Zi Bofeng hurried over and looked down. Uncle Zhuzi's mother was growing increasingly weak; she couldn't even cough anymore.

"My mother is sick again. I brought her to see a doctor, but I can't get in at all..." Zhuzi was on the verge of tears. He no longer cared about his dislike for Zi Bofeng; he grabbed Zi Bofeng's arm tightly, as if clutching a straw to save his life.

"Uncle Zhuzi, don't worry. We'll watch over Second Grandma here. You go inside and find a doctor; see if you can convince one to come out," Zi Bofeng said.

"Ah, I'm coming right back!" Uncle Zhuzi slapped his own head, not even having time to offer a word of thanks before he took off running. Zi Bofeng shook his head lightly, calling out as he pushed the cart out of the crowd, pulling it to a quieter spot. He found a patch of shade, stopped, and stood on his tiptoes to look into the distance.

Little Stone squatted on the cart shaft, holding a feather fan to fan Zhuzi's Mother, acting the part of a good boy. "Don't worry, Second Grandma, Uncle Zhuzi will be back in a moment. Little Stone will fan you."

Zhuzi's Mother forced a smile, but she couldn't utter a single word. Whenever her illness flared up, she couldn't catch her breath, and Little Stone's feather fan didn't provide much relief. Zi Bofeng spotted a cattail leaf fan behind the cart and picked it up.

Once he lifted the cattail fan, the items hidden beneath it were revealed. Zi Bofeng took one look and was instantly stunned.

Uncle Zhuzi sprinted all the way to the clinic. The old physician, who was in the middle of weighing herbs, looked up, saw Zhuzi, and shook his head. "Don't come looking for me again. I've already told you, your mother's illness is beyond saving. It's useless for you to keep pestering me."

In truth, this was not the first time the old physician had turned Uncle Zhuzi away, but Zhuzi refused to give up, returning time and again with money in hand.

"Doctor!" Uncle Zhuzi bent his knees and knelt down, knocking his head against the floor with a thud, thud, thud. One knock followed another; it seemed he would never get up unless the physician agreed.

"Sigh..." Watching the blue bricks on the floor turn red with blood from the man's forehead, the old physician let out a soft sigh. "It's not that there is no way, but this method... is not something you can achieve..."

"Doctor, I can do anything, no matter what it is. As long as you can save my mother, I am willing to be your beast of burden for lifetimes to come..." Before Uncle Zhuzi could finish his sentence, his head hit the floor again. The physician was starting to feel pained for his blue bricks.

"Sigh, get up, hurry up and get up!" The old physician reached out to pull Uncle Zhuzi up. "Things have reached this point; ordinary prescriptions can no longer save your mother. I do have a celestial recipe here, though whether it will work or not is another matter entirely..."

Little Stone grew tired after fanning for a while. As he sat on the cart shaft, he heard a rustling sound coming from behind the cart, as if something were moving.

Little Stone looked left and right, discovering a cage tied to the back of the cart. The cage was woven from tough rattan and soaked in tung oil, making it exceptionally sturdy. No matter how much the white creature inside bit and clawed, it couldn't damage it in the slightest.

Little Stone lowered his head and peered through the gaps, letting out a cry of surprise: "Brother, look, it's a little fox!"

Indeed, Zi Bofeng had seen it long ago, and he was currently feeling quite troubled. This fox happened to be the White Fox that had come to his home to steal books. Although this White Fox was cunning, Uncle Zhuzi was the best hunter in Lower Yan Village. There was no doubt that Xitui had also played a major role in the capture of this fox; he should have known that a fellow like Xitui wouldn't let things rest so easily. And now that Uncle Zhuzi had brought this little fox along, he was likely planning to sell it to pay for his mother's medical treatment.

Record of Raising Monsters