Три жизни, три мира / Three Lives Three Worlds (Китай)
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Re: Три жизни, три мира / Three Lives Three Worlds (Китай)
Юлечка, анимашки и аватарки чУдные, не скромничай. Все-таки, из героев второго плана, Ди Дзюнь вне конкуренции. Спасибо за 44 и 47 серии. Уже качаются. Не пойму только, если видео берется с одного трекера - East Dream - почему у меня,и во второй раз косяки вылазят, причем, разные?..
Видео с фотосессии просто обалденное! Мне так понравилось! Хотела коммент оставить, но по-испански, кажется не к месту, а по английски, не сообразила как красиво написать...
А второе видео - День Рождения режиссера? (Я правильно поняла, что полненькая женщина в розовом - режиссер?) Все очень мило.
Yessss!Аntarelle пишет:поехали дальше)
Видео с фотосессии просто обалденное! Мне так понравилось! Хотела коммент оставить, но по-испански, кажется не к месту, а по английски, не сообразила как красиво написать...
А второе видео - День Рождения режиссера? (Я правильно поняла, что полненькая женщина в розовом - режиссер?) Все очень мило.
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Re: Три жизни, три мира / Three Lives Three Worlds (Китай)
может при закачке с торрента какой то сбой? или же толком не докачивает,Ellenaaa пишет:Не пойму только, если видео берется с одного трекера - East Dream - почему у меня,и во второй раз косяки вылазят, причем, разные?.
я думаю там даже по русски можно было бы оставить) как некоторые делают )) иногда наблюдаю за уникумами)Ellenaaa пишет:Видео с фотосессии просто обалденное! Мне так понравилось! Хотела коммент оставить, но по-испански, кажется не к месту, а по английски, не сообразила как красиво написать...
да она на протяжении всех съемок их там дергала) ей нужно памятник а не тортEllenaaa пишет:А второе видео - День Рождения режиссера? (Я правильно поняла, что полненькая женщина в розовом - режиссер?) Все очень мило.
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Re: Три жизни, три мира / Three Lives Three Worlds (Китай)
Аntarelle пишет: ей нужно памятник а не торт
А какие были проблемы? Мне кажется, с такими талантливыми актерами все само собой должно было получаться.
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Re: Три жизни, три мира / Three Lives Three Worlds (Китай)
ну учитывая что каждая серия снималась раз по 300 если не больше и в большенстве случаев она показывала как нужно делать что говорить куда руку ложить и вообще контролируя весь процесс 58 серий. ) я считаю это один из талантов заставить актеров показать то что ей нужно)Ellenaaa пишет: А какие были проблемы? Мне кажется, с такими талантливыми актерами все само собой должно было получаться.
Так а фильм все же смотрела я таки забываю спросить?
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Re: Три жизни, три мира / Three Lives Three Worlds (Китай)
Аntarelle пишет:ну учитывая что каждая серия снималась раз по 300 если не больше и в большенстве случаев она показывала как нужно делать что говорить куда руку ложить и вообще контролируя весь процесс 58 серий. ) я считаю это один из талантов заставить актеров показать то что ей нужно)
Тогда понятно. Зато результат превосходит все ожидания. Режиссер - молодчина просто. А с виду простушка простушкой. И не скажешь, что способна столько романтики сотворить.
Не-а, с дорамы балдю по второму разу.Аntarelle пишет:Так а фильм все же смотрела я таки забываю спросить?
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Re: Три жизни, три мира / Three Lives Three Worlds (Китай)
Ди Дзюня жалкоооо... С какой нежностью он баюкал в своих объятиях грезящую наяву раненую маленькую принцессу... А потом попросил не говорить, что действительно был с ней... Столько чувства и полная безнадежность... Интересно все таки, в той, другой книге, удалось ли рыжей лисичке решить проблему Камня Трех Жизней?
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Re: Три жизни, три мира / Three Lives Three Worlds (Китай)
- Three Lives Three Worlds, the Pillow Book Original work by Tangqi Gongzi :
- Three Lives Three Worlds, the Pillow Book Original work by Tangqi Gongzi
Upper Volume
English translation: Hamster428
English editing: rockharlequin, JoannaKuang
Three Lives Three Worlds, t he Pillow Book 1
1
Prologue
Green grass flourished in March, orioles filled the sky in April. Stretching beyond the Eastern Sea was the Ten-mile Peach Orchard in lushly splendid bloom.
The Heaven clan of Jiuchongtian and the nine-tailed foxes of Qingqiu were soon to forge an alliance. Days and days went by in discussion between clan elders. Then, one early day in the year, everything was at last decided upon after two hundred and twenty three years of arduous deliberation.
Just in time for peach blossom season, the carefully chosen date fell in late spring.
The two individuals who were finally getting married after an ill-fated spell spanning for more than two hundred years were no other than Crown Prince Yehua of Jiuchongtian and Queen Bai Qian of the Qingqiu Kingdom.
The world had long been waiting to celebrate this news. Going by old Tianjun's style, the masses predicted for there to be unprecedented extravagance on the couple's happy day. Every façade must be grand, as they couldn't imagine how else Tianjun would be emphasizing his regality.
Nevertheless, when the enormous bridegroom's procession emerged by the Wangsheng lakeside on Mount Yuze to enter Qingqiu, Migu Xianjun who was waiting on the other side of the lake with a towel in hand thought perhaps he had underestimated Tianjun.
The wedding legion wasn't grand; it was excessively grand.
Migu Xianjun had always been by Bai Qian's side; in Qingqiu he was honored to some reputation. There was a thing or two he was naturally knowledgeable in by being a long-time local in this kingdom.
As with Heaven's tradition, the bridegroom wasn't to come for his bride himself. It was an elder who always bore this responsibility.
Migu figured Moyuan could be regarded as Yehua's older brother. That being the case, it was perfectly reasonable that he, although being an eminent deity of a large clan, had come with the wedding entourage to receive his brother's bride.
And when an eminent deity embarked on a journey, there must be a highly-ranked but not too highly-ranked fairy standing by. It seemed the man who was in charge of mankind's fate, the one who inhaled ink for meals under the South Pole Emperor of Longevity1, Siming Xingjun, had followed along. This was also considered quite reasonable.
As for the legendary dragon in front of Siming whom you could only catch the tail of all year round, Tianjun's third son Liansong Shenjun, he was the Crown Prince's third uncle. While it would seem he didn't have any business here, one could not fault him for coming along for the festivity.
Migu spent half a day in pondering and had found cause for why these three honorable deities were gracing them with their profound aura.
But the purple-robed, white-haired gentleman by Moyuan's side, the renowned eternal-recluse, he who if not as a last resort wouldn't easily step out of Jiuchongtian, he who only sometimes appeared on a few paintings, he who never cared for the younger generation, why was Donghua Dijun also a part of the wedding entourage?
Migu racked his brain and still couldn't come up with a single explanation.
Standing on the other side of the surging lake, even Migu's good eyesight was blurred.
Row upon row of providential aura and pomp stopped adjacent to the Yueya Bay. The procession didn't seem to want to cross the water immediately and camped lakeside instead. The last group of young fairies orderly filed out and together prepared refreshments for the deities.
Soft wind gently blew across the blue surface of Lake Wangsheng. After the rain, as if they were seizing late springtime's last breath of life, flower blossoms slowly broke out of light green buds. Although it was a little late, it was hard not to be mesmerized by the scenery.
The Heavenly Realm's Third Prince, the groom's third uncle Lord Liansong, flicked the teacup's lid in boredom. He gazed aimlessly at the tea leaves and started idly chatting with Siming beside him. “Prior to departing I heard Qingqiu originally had two queens. In addition to Bai Qian who is marrying Yehua, there seems to be a younger one?”
However much lower-ranked this fellow Siming was compared to Donghua Dijun, he had the fortune to be as well-known because in all of Heaven there were only two walking encyclopedias, the only difference being Donghua Dijun was a walking Buddhist manual while he was a walking Bagua manual2. He knew three generations’ worth of every secret one's family could possibly have.
This mobile Bagua manual who tagged along with the ten-mile entourage had been keeping to a serious conduct all morning long. He now finally had the opportunity to open his mouth. Although he was eager, he moderated his expression into a prudent one, placed his hands together politely, and when all etiquettes were exchanged, slowly spoke: “Your Third Highness is correct. There are indeed two queens in Qingqiu, the younger one being the only grandchild of the Bai family. She is said to be a mix breed of a white fox and a scarlet fox. She is the only nine-tailed red fox across the lands; she is known as Her Highness Fengjiu. Heaven has five territories and five kings. The Kingdom of Qingqiu, too, has five regions and five sovereigns. Because Lady Bai Qian would sooner or later marry into the Heaven clan, she had given Qingqiu's sovereignty to Her Highness Fengjiu two hundred years ago. When she assumed the position, Her Young Highness was only 32,000 years old. Still, Bai Zhi Dijun had let
her carry on Qingqiu's mantle. She is so young yet sits so high. But... there's also something odd about her.”
As a young fairy poured them more tea, he paused and took advantage of the rising smoke. Across the hazy fog, he surreptitiously stole a glance at Donghua Dijun who was sitting with his tea.
Liansong seemed to be titillated with interest. He waved his hand and smiled from the corners of his eyes: “Go on.”
Siming nodded and continued after a moment of thought. “In truth, I have known Her Highness Fengjiu from long ago. At that time she was but 20,000 years old, sticking close to Bai Zhi Dijun's side. Because she is Dijun's only grand-daughter, she is terribly adored, and her temper grew ever lively. She was always present whenever there were tomfooleries going on. Even I was teased by her a couple of times. However...” he briefly paused, “more than two hundred years ago, there was a time when she descended to the mortal realm. When she for some reason returned a few decades later, she suddenly became much more solemn. They said on the day she returned, she was wearing mourning clothes. Now that two hundred years have passed and seeing that she is grown, perhaps due to the fact that she was raised to inherit the throne, Bai Zhi Dijun might be worried that she doesn't have someone to aid her with the kingdom's affairs, and for the past one hundred years has chosen several husband candidates for her. But she…”
“But she what?” asked Liansong.
Siming shook his head; his eyes seemed to inadvertently pass by Donghua Dijun. “Nothing, really. She just insisted she was already married to someone. And although he had passed away, she wouldn’t remarry again. I also heard in these past two hundred years there wasn’t a day when she would remove the white pin from her hair; there wasn’t a moment when she would take off her mourning clothes either.”
Liansong propped his cheek and leaned against the stone bench and said, “Now that you mention it, I’m recalling something from 70 years ago. It
was said Cang'yi Shenjun from Mount Zhi'yue took a bride. Did this have something to do with Qingqiu?”
Siming gave some thought. Before he could answer, Master Moyuan who had been sitting in extended silence spoke first. His voice rang clear and light. “It was just a matter of Bai Zhi wanting to give Fengjiu's hand to Cang…” Siming reminded him, “Cang'yi.” Moyuan continued, “Yes, Cang'yi. They tied Fengjiu up and threw her into the palanquin. Fengjiu wouldn’t have it, so when night fell, she simply destroyed Mount Zhiyue's palace.”
He said 'simply' as if it was made of wind and clouds; it unnerved Siming greatly. He was not familiar with this interval of the story either. If he were to continue, innumerable twists and turns would only start to creep out. “Eh...”
Liansong held up his fan with a smile. He sat up in all seriousness and turned to face Moyuan. “You’re right,” he said, “I remember hearing from someone that you were the officiator that year. But legends have it Cang'yi Shenjun was truly in love with the same lady who destroyed his palace, the wife whom he never married. After having it rebuilt, he hung Fengjiu's portrait up and longed for her as he looked at it each day.”
Moyuan no longer spoke. Siming sighed, “And yet, unrequited love is one thing, unfulfilled desire a quite another. I have also heard Lady Qin of Mount Zhonghu had once noticed High Deity Bai Qian’s fourth brother, Bai Zhen. So brazen was she that she had even tried to steal him from High Deity Zheyan.”
The rain-glistened flowers swayed in the wind. The eminent deities sat with propriety as they drank their tea, rested their minds, enjoyed the scenery, and listened to the Bagua encyclopedia’s tales. The young fairies who came along didn't know how to contain themselves; all were flushed with the excitement of hearing such secrets. But because they didn't dare act with impropriety, they could only exchange glances. On the Wangsheng shore, endless gleaming eyes mingled in the breeze.
A young fairy considerately handed Siming a cup of tea to clear his throat. Siming Xingjun used the lid to scrape away two pieces of tea specks on the surface. His eyes gazed to a few bends in the distance then passed over to Donghua Dijun. His brow furrowed together in thought.
Liansong turned the tea cup in his palms and laughed, “Siming, what’s wrong with your eyes today? Why do they keep glancing to Donghua?”
Two meters away, Donghua Dijun placed his teacup aside and slightly looked up. Embarrassment crept onto Siming's face as he laughed nervously. Boom. A titan wave suddenly burst forth from the nearby water surface.
When the ten-meter-high wave dispersed, sparkling under the morning light by Yue’ya Bay was a beautiful maiden dressed in white.
Her alabaster arms contrasted her jet black hair, on which was a white flower pin. As though her clothes were made of an impervious material, not half a water droplet dripped from her body. Moreover, she stood in the morning wind with a nonchalant air, but her raven hair was wet, and a few strands plastered on her face. She emitted an icy coldness but there was a certain warmth in the corners of her eyes. She smiled an unsmiling smile at Siming Xingjun who had been talking with great fervor only moments ago.
Siming frantically grabbed a teacup, blocking half of his face.
“Your face is too big, the cup won't do. Use this,” said Liansong, handing him his fan.
Siming miserably knelt down and stretched his mouth into a painful smile. “I didn’t know Your Highness Fengjiu is taking a swim here. It was thoughtless of me just now, please think of our many years of acquaintance and leniently forgive me.”
Moyuan looked to Fengjiu. “Why were you hiding under the lake, were you doing something?”
The white-attired Fengjiu stood in a puddle of water and demurely replied, “I was exercising.”
“Then why did you come up?” Moyuan smiled. “Are you trying to scare Siming?”
Fengjiu paused, then glanced at Siming who was wretchedly kneeling on the ground and asked, “You have just mentioned something about a Lady Qin on Mount Zhonghu, does she really like my uncle?”
“…”
- First Half – The Reborn Bodhi Vines " - 1:
- First Half – The Reborn Bodhi Vines
Chapter 01
There came one day when, standing among blooming flowers which hung over the walls like floating clouds inside the Bodhi-covered Taichen Palace, Donghua thought of the first time he met Fengjiu.
At the time he didn’t have any impression of her. Being the deity who stayed secluded in Taichen Palace meant he took little notice of anything beyond the changes of seasons, the rise and fall of the moon and sun, or the fortunes and mishaps of creation.
Tianjun reminded him incessantly about leaving Taichen Palace for Crown Prince Yehua’s bridal escort, but he wasn’t particularly interested in this matter. For that reason, he didn't very well remember the maiden who came forth on Lake Wangsheng’s waves, or her voice that was as clear as spring showers. He also couldn’t remember that pretty voice forcing itself into laughter when she turned to ask Siming: “Did that Lady Qin from Mount Zhonghu really like my little uncle?”
Donghua's true first impression of Fengjiu was at Yehua's wedding.
The Crown Prince of Heaven was getting married. Furthermore, he was marrying the High Deity Bai Qian whom everyone respectfully called 'Lady'. It was only natural their wedding would be different from others. Immortals on Heaven were divided into nine ranks. Not counting the Heaven family members, those fortunate enough to be invited included, from the fifth rank up, a mere ten Zhenhuangs, Zhenrens, and about thirty Lingxians3.
Ziqing Palace was awash in light. The feast was now at its half-way mark.
The incumbent Tianjun was rather pretentious. Regardless of which party, he always excused himself after three drinks, citing low tolerance as reason; even his own grandson's wedding this time was no exception.
On the other hand, the bridegroom Yehua had always had low tolerance; tonight it was especially low. They had yet to reach the third round when a young attendant had to support him back to Xiwu Palace. Donghua, however, could see that the nearly passed-out Crown Prince still managed to walk with admirable balance.
Soon after these two left Ziqing Palace, several Zhenhuangs also looked for reasons to excuse themselves. The stiff atmosphere in the room instantly relaxed. Donghua Dijun turned the empty wine cup in his hand and also intended to leave so that the nervous youngsters could finally drink.
Placing the cup down and rising from his seat, he saw from the hall’s entrance the sudden appearance of a sumo flowerpot. A white-attired maiden could vaguely be seen behind it, her head bowed as she tried to lift her skirt with one hand while she held onto the flowerpot with the other. She unsteadily found her way along the columns in the corner, trying her best to maneuver between the feast tables without bringing attention to herself.
Donghua leaned on his arm, looked for a more comfortable position, and sat back down.
The dancers on stage were coming to an intermission with their performance. The maiden in white continually bumped into one person after another when at last she found an empty seat. She cautiously looked around and quickly crawled out from behind the flowerpot. Taking advantage of the applauding crowd, she casually sat down and joined in with the clapping, at the same time hooking her feet behind the sumo pot to hide it under the table.
She couldn’t hide it and again, she kicked.
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Re: Три жизни, три мира / Three Lives Three Worlds (Китай)
на самом деле считаю что Фендзю наплевать на чувства всех кроме самой себя. Ей не важно было ни чье то мнение, ни унижение. Просто как танк перлась сбивая все на пути.Ellenaaa пишет:Ди Дзюня жалкоооо... С какой нежностью он баюкал в своих объятиях грезящую наяву раненую маленькую принцессу... А потом попросил не говорить, что действительно был с ней... Столько чувства и полная безнадежность... Интересно все таки, в той, другой книге, удалось ли рыжей лисичке решить проблему Камня Трех Жизней?
Потому ей СыМин сказал что она подходит Дидзюню. Идеальные , только от него меньше проблем. В отличие от нее он мозгом иногда думает).
И о нем она не думала совсем. Это он о ней думал. И страдал в момент ее лихорадки
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Re: Три жизни, три мира / Three Lives Three Worlds (Китай)
Юлечка, ты начала выкладывать перевод на английский? ЗдОрово! Может тогда как-то спойлеры подписывать, чтобы не путаться и знать, где что искать?
Юлечка, мне кажется, ты слишком строга к Сяо Дзю. Думаю, на другую - покладистую и скромную - Ди Дзюнь, с высоты своего жизненного опыта в не одну сотню тысяч лет даже бы и не взглянул. А тут, появляется рыжая девятихвостка, смотрит широко распахнутыми, удивительно красивыми, изумленными глазками, от испуга, повисает на шее, крепко обняв, и вуаля! Правильно сказала Бай Цянь - должен был сразу жестко пресечь все романтические поползновения. Не смог - пришлось расхлебывать.Аntarelle пишет:Фендзю наплевать на чувства всех кроме самой себя.
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Re: Три жизни, три мира / Three Lives Three Worlds (Китай)
ага только это ему аукнулось не один раз. Не даром он не может перешагнуть линию судьбы. Пострадает не только он а и она и за нее он боится. А вот Эта мелкая, блин знает что с этим шутить нельзя, что так называемый "любимый до гроба" может пострадать или умереть от отношений и толку как с козла молока, простите за выражение. Ведь нужно не только любить, твердить об этом и добиваться, а и думать о последствиях. Я только делала ставку на то что когда она подрастет она изменится и станет просчитывать ходы на перед .Ellenaaa пишет:А тут, появляется рыжая девятихвостка, смотрит широко распахнутыми, удивительно красивыми, изумленными глазками, от испуга, повисает на шее, крепко обняв, и вуаля! Правильно сказала Бай Цянь - должен был сразу жестко пресечь все романтические поползновения. Не смог - пришлось расхлебывать.
Кстати перевод это не совсем истории о персиках вернее не та история где Бай Цань и Е Хуа. А та где Фендзю частично. Как то потом переименую все
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Re: Три жизни, три мира / Three Lives Three Worlds (Китай)
- Chapter 1 - продолжение:
- She still couldn’t hide it and yet again, she kicked.
She kicked too hard on the last try and sent the hapless flowerpot flying across the dancers on stage, heading straight for the same Donghua Dijun who hadn't gotten around to leave.
The immortals exclaimed as the flowerpot stopped three inches short from Donghua's forehead.
Propping his cheek on one palm, Donghua reached his other palm out to catch the pot mid-air. He glanced his eyes in the direction of the culprit.
Collectively, everyone’s gaze followed in the same direction.
The ruckus-causing culprit froze for a moment before nearly instantaneously turning around to a male immortal in sand-colored clothing standing beside her. She asked in a genuine yet solemn voice: “Migu, why are you such a trouble-maker? How can you kick a pot at someone’s head like that?”
When the banquet ended, Donghua's steward told him the girl who was donning the white dress and hairpin was called Fengjiu. She was the very same young queen who inherited Qingqiu's throne.
Crown Prince Yehua’s wedding celebration lasted seven days from start to end.
In turn, seven days later was Lord Liansong’s Festival of Flowers which only premiered once every jiazi cycle4. For this reason, many who ascended Heaven for the wedding conveniently postponed their departure and stayed a while longer.
Previously known for its sacred purity, Jiuchongtian for the time being had few peaceful places left. The Pundarika Pond5 on the 13th sky was likely one of the last remaining. Imaginably because this pond sat next to Taichen Palace, Donghua’s residence, not very many dared to intrude.
Unfortunately, this group of ‘not very many’ didn’t include High Deity Bai Qian who recently married into the Heaven family.
On warm breezy April 17th, Bai Qian helped her niece Fengjiu arrange two small picnics, precisely by the Pundarika waterfront.
Bai Qian, in her late years, married Yehua at 140,000. She always believed her marriage came at the most opportune of times, and could not help but constantly use it as a standard to measure other people’s fortunes. Yet after some consideration, she regretfully found that her niece, Fengjiu, was barely 30,000 years old; still too young to talk of marriage. But since it was Fengjiu’s father, her brother Bai Yi, who asked for her help, she couldn’t very well refuse.
Lately, it was impossible to find a quiet place on festive Jiuchongtian for an intimate meeting. At the same time, she heard Donghua Dijun perpetually stayed inside Taichen Palace and rarely ever stepped out of his doors. A murder or arson might as well happen on his front lawn and still no one would be there to care about it. Bai Qian contemplated for half a day, and with an assured mind, finally made preparations for a small picnic by the Pundarika Pond next to Taichen Palace.
Two blind dates were accordingly arranged, one after the other.
Unfortunately, everyone's plan went awry today. Donghua Dijun not only left his palace, he left to a very nearby place. Just fifty paces away from the picnic and hidden from view by a draping weeping willow, he leisurely lay close-eyed on a bamboo chair as he fished with a sutra covering his face and his foot resting on a purple bamboo rod. Fengjiu had her breakfast, drank some tea, and dilly-dallied before making her way to the 13th celestial sky.
White lotuses floated on the azure water, stretching to the infinite yonder. Resembling pure white clouds, they made for an exquisite embroidered scene.
Awaiting at the table was a fan-waving fairy dressed in blue. When he saw her approach, he closed his fan as his eyes curved into a smile.
Fengjiu wasn’t really acquainted with this deity. She only knew that he was a young lord from a certain branch of the Heaven Clan, that he had been cultivating on a certain mountain in the mortal realm, and that he was friendly and polite. His only flaw was his meticulousness. He couldn't stand ill-mannered people nor could he stand unpunctual ones. For this reason, she deliberately came half an hour late.
But now she thought to herself she should’ve been another half-hour late, as this fastidious fairy had still waited patiently for her.
Being a small meal, they didn't keep to too many formalities between each other. They sat down and started to talk.
Disturbed by their pleasantries, Donghua lifted the book from his face and glanced across the willow shades. Fifty steps away, Fengjiu was slightly tilting her head as she frowningly stared at the fan-shaped lacquered tray.
The arrangement on the serving tray was quite crowded. On it was a wine bottle made of Dongling jade along with several lavish dishes.
Meals on Heaven traditionally came in sets, and each person had his own tray. Although the dishes were the same, wine was prepared according to each person’s taste.
The blue-robed deity closed his fan and broached a topic. “What a coincidence, my family has been in charge of the Fairy Clan’s rites since ancient times. In a conversation with Lady Bai Qian, she mentioned Your Highness's understanding of etiquette has also reached the...”
The words ‘peak of perfection’ hadn't rolled off his tongue when he saw that Fengjiu had already finished the trotters with stunning speed. She scraped the leftover sauce with her chopsticks and asked him with a hiccup, “Reached what?”
The corner of her mouth was still smeared with sauce.
The blue-robed deity with excellent understanding of etiquette looked at her in disbelief.
Fengjiu took from her sleeve a small mirror. “Is there something on my face?” she mumbled and raised the mirror to her face. A pause. “Oh, there is.”
She emphatically wiped her mouth using her sleeve, smearing the white fabric with a patch of grease.
The blue-robed deity who liked cleanliness turned slightly blue.
Fengjiu examined herself in the mirror again and, as if nothing had happened, shoved it back into her sleeve. The mirror's wooden handle was covered in soiled fingerprints.
The blue-robed deity's face turned from blue to purple.
At this moment, two drops of sauce dripped from her chopsticks onto the marble tabletop.
Fengjiu held the chopsticks in her mouth and used her fingernails to scrape the stain. Unable to get it clean, she proceeded to wipe it with her sleeve; this time it went away.
The silk napkin in the blue-robed fairy's hand suspended in the air.
They looked at each other for half a day's time. The blue-robed deity’s face had turned black at this point. He hoarsely said, “Your Highness, please continue your meal. I just remembered I still have something to do, I must excuse myself first. We’ll continue our conversation some other day.” He left the moment he finished speaking; he walked so fast he might as well have run.
Donghua Dijun removed the sutra from his face. He watched Fengjiu sadly wave goodbye while still holding onto her chopsticks. Her bright eyes shone boundless emotions yet behind them was a secretive smile. With a soft regretful voice she said, “Farewell, don’t let me wait too long~~~” until the blue-robed fairy disappeared completely from her sight. That was when she broke out laughing and slowly produced a handkerchief to leisurely wipe her hands and sleeves.
After two hundred years of practice, Fengjiu’s ability to scare other people had really reached the level of natural fluidity. The second fairy that came to meet her also came full of confidence but left utterly defeated. Only a mess of dinnerware remained on the table at this point.
In less than an hour, Fengjiu finally felt full after finishing two servings of trotters. She grabbed her teacup and turned to face the Pundarika Pond. She sat there to enjoy the majestic Taichen Palace while waiting for her food to go down.
Donghua caught two small fish. At this time, his 7788-page-long book was also turned to the last page. Looking up, the sunlight was getting fiercer by the minute. He gathered his things and rose to go home, naturally passing the picnic on the other side of the pond.Fengjiu remained holding her teacup absently like an old granny. When she heard the leisure footsteps coming nearer, she thought it was Migu, he who was even more sluggish than an aging grandpa. She broke from her trance and said, “Why have you come so soon? Did you worry I'd harass them?”
She moved to another chair and mumbled, “Auntie’s taste is becoming strange these days. I can’t believe she picked out two sickly kids this time. I didn’t have the heart to beat them up, so I only pulled a tiny sham to scare them away. But now I’m exhausted.” She held onto her teacup for a moment. “Come and sit with me awhile. It’s been so long since I last watched the sun rise and set here, I kind of miss the sight.”
Donghua stopped at her words, and then unhurriedly sat down behind her. He chose one of the two teapots on the table and poured himself a cup of tea to clear his throat.
Fengjiu momentarily fell into silence. The white lotuses seemed to have sparked something in her mind. She turned the teacup in her palm and dazedly said, “It is said that each of the white lotuses in this Pundarika Pond was created from a person’s heart; although we aren’t acquainted with many mortals, Migu, tell me... do you think Qingti would also have his own white lotus here?” She paused and continued with skepticism, “If yes, then which one do you think he is?” Then she heaved wearily like a premature granny, “One that’s just like him…” Her words came equipped with a sigh as she sipped more tea.
Donghua refilled his teacup without answering. Migu, as he now hazily recalled, might be the immortal who was with Fengjiu that day. It seemed she had mistaken the two of them. As for Qingti, he had never heard of this name.
The tree cast its shadow on the ground. Her voice was vague: “Half a month ago, Su Moye from the West Sea invited my fourth uncle out for a drink. I wheedled my uncle into bringing me along. When we passed by that place in the mortal realm…” she paused for a moment, “it turned out
the state of Jin had fallen seven years after Qingti died.” She hesitated then added, “I knew it wouldn’t last very long.”
She sighed again and turned around to pour herself more tea, her lips continuing to mutter: “I heard Su Moye has just come up with a new tea. What was its name? Ah, Floating Blue Spring. It’s pretty good. Help me weave a bamboo basket. Next time when I go to the West Sea, I’ll…”
As she raised her head, her next words became caught in her throat. A fit of earth-shattering coughs ensued. After she was done coughing, she maintained her posture and continued to pour tea. Half a day passed by yet she couldn't utter another word.
Donghua placed his long slender fingers on the light blue porcelain cup. They glistened in the reflected sunlight on the lid. His indifferent eyes lingered on Fengjiu’s stained sleeves. Then they moved up to her flushed face which was crimson from choking coughs. Her face was almost the same shade as the maple leaves.
As she recovered, a smile gradually displayed on her face. It wasn't natural, but it was still a smile. She said with hollow politeness, “I didn't know you were here, Your Majesty. How careless of me. I'm Fengjiu of Qingqiu, please accept my greetings.”
Donghua listened to her greeting and gazed up to stare at her for a while. He waited for her to finish bowing her head and sat back down before he nonchalantly asked, “Were you that surprised to see me?”
Her every step was perfectly calculated. She seemed genuinely surprised as she moved her lips to offer him her distant polite smile again. “I can hardly believe I would get to see you again. Words can't describe how overjoyed I am. But you are disapproving of me.”
Donghua nodded and thought to himself that her wording was obvious. It was difficult to detect her ‘joy’ within that stiff smile. Donghua lifted his hand and poured her another cup of tea.
The two of them continued to sit there in awkward silence. Soon, Fengjiu finished her drink and reached out for the teapot in what seemed to be an odd pouring position. Donghua glanced up and saw the cup tipping more and more. As the cup became full, the hot tea spilled out and splashed all over her white skirt. That was an impression on par with a fried dumpling.
Donghua rested his hands on the stone table, watching her intently.
At first, he had only been curious when he saw her watch the sunset with such absorption. He had thought perhaps the scenery was different viewed from this spot. And since she asked him to sit down, he did. Now he suddenly felt amused when he realized she might still be putting on an act. She probably thought he was also one of her blind dates, but since she minded his background, she couldn’t just shoo him away like she did the other two. That was why she cleverly resorted to this desperate measure, not hesitating to drench her own clothes so she could excuse herself. The spilled tea was still emitting steam on her skirt, showing that it was truly hot and she had put herself up to a tiring task.
He leaned his cheek on his palm and wondered whether she’d try to flee. Sure enough, she offered him her trademark expression which was a mix of regret, respect, and politeness, while masking her joy in saying goodbye. “How careless of me to have spilled the tea. What a mess I am right now. I hope you'll excuse me first. I'll come and discuss religions with you on another day.”
The wind brought with it the perfume of white lotuses. Donghua raised his eyes and gave her the larger teapot as he casually said, “One teacup was nothing; you might as well use this. The tea has cooled when I last held it. Spill all of this on yourself again, that’s what would be called a true mess.”
“…”
Donghua Dijun had long retired to the privacy of Taichen Palace. The younger fairies didn’t get to experience his venomous tongue, but the older
generation could never forget it. The King wasn't much of a talker. But when he did talk, his words pierced sharp like the blade in his hand.
According to legend, there once was a young ignorant lord from the Demon Clan who heard of Donghua Dijun's fame. He valiantly trespassed into Jiuchongtian one year, wanting to duel with Donghua. But no sooner had he arrived at Taichen Palace's doors was he stopped by the guards.
Donghua was playing chess on his own by the lotus pond at the time.
The brash young lad screamed up a storm despite being pinned down in an effort to lure Donghua out. When Donghua called his guards back, he yelled even louder, saying things such as Heaven was known for their honorable ways, if Donghua still had any honor left, he'd come out to duel with him one on one instead of ganging up on a loner.
As Donghua passed by with the chess box in his hand, he backed up two steps and asked the young man on the ground, “What... was it that you said?”
The young man gritted his teeth. “Honor! I said honor!”
Donghua picked up his heels and continued to walk on. “What’s that? Never heard of it.”
The young lad had trouble exhaling; he fainted unconscious on the spot.
Fengjiu could only remember this anecdote three days later, when she was at Qing'yun Palace watching her aunt discipline her son.
Qing'yun Palace was where Bai Qian and Yehua's beloved son resided. He was also known as the little dough, His Young Highness Prince Ah Li.
In a bright yellow outfit, the young prince sat facing his mother. He sat on an adult chair, his feet dangling off the ground. He tried his best to reach his feet down but the chair was too high while he was too short. He tried for half a day and still couldn't manage to touch his toes to the ground. He bitterly gave up and dropped his small head to listen to his mother's lecturing.
Bai Qian sternly chided her son: “I heard your dad as a young boy was able to recite the Great Sattva Scripture, the Victorious King of Heaven Doctrines, and the Aryacalanatha Envoy Sutra. But we must’ve spoiled you. You’re now 500 years old, yet you can’t even recite the Huelin Ideophone Text. Alright, so it's not the end of the world, but can't you leave your parents some face?”
The little dough grumbled and logically countered, “I didn't want it to be this way either. But my excellent brains were inherited from you, not from dad!”
Fengjiu spitted tea from her mouth. Bai Qian glared at her with squinted eyes. She stifled her laugh and waved her hands in explanation. “No, it’s just that my stomach has been acting up lately. You guys go on, go on~~”
After Bai Qian's eyes returned to the little dough, for some reason, Fengjiu suddenly remembered the story which involved Donghua Dijun driving the young lord of the Demon Clan mad. She took another sip of tea and unconsciously smiled to herself. But when she gazed down at her mourning clothes, her smile evaporated away. She raised her hand to brush off a loose strand of hair.
The troubles in life were as countless as the hair on her head. She got lost in recalling these past twenty-seven hundred years. So many things had happened. There were things she could remember, and there were things she pretended to forget. And as she pretended, some really seemed to have disappeared from her memory over time. Qingqiu wasn’t exactly peaceful these past two hundred years, thus there weren’t many occasions when she thought of Donghua. But she was now bumping into him quite frequently on this trip to Jiuchongtian. He didn't seem to recognize her, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing in her eyes.
She and Donghua, as the Buddhists put it, were an impossibility. But perhaps ‘impossibility’ was an inaccurate term. Theirs was more of a cursed fate.
The last day of Liansong’s Flower Festival had finally arrived. As always, it was on this day when every species of flowers simultaneously bloomed in glorious colors. Even the ancient Buddhas had come to attend from the Western Heavens, bringing with them rare species from Lingshan. Jiuchongtian was taken over with festivity. From top to bottom, everyone joined in the celebration.
Fengjiu had never been much interested in these flower and grass business. It just so happened a fairy from the mortal realm had especially presented an opera troupe for the Crown Prince's wedding a few days ago. At this time on the 7th level of Heaven at Chengtian Terrace, Migu was preparing for an excerpt about a general and his beauty.
Fengjiu brought with her a pouch of melon seeds and took the little dough through Heaven’s 7th gate to watch the play.
This soft milky stepchild6 was her only cousin, the little dough A Li.
Beyond the tall gate of the 7th sky, under the sparkling light which filtered through dense shades, the withdrawing figure of Donghua Dijun was stealing away from the Flower Festival’s grand ceremony. In his own company, he retreated to his books and tea by the Miaohua Mirror.
Miaohua Mirror was one of the sacred places on the 7th celestial heaven. It was called a mirror but it was actually a waterfall in reality. There are billions of worlds in the great trichiliocosm7. With the right ability, one could gaze into the glass to watch the rise and fall of these worlds.
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- As such, the waterfall’s mystical energy was overwhelming. There were few fairies who could withstand it. Even the ancient Zhenhuangs suffered from headaches whenever they came here. This was why for the longest time, Donghua was the only one who used this place as a resting spot.
Fengjiu led the little dough through the gate and reminded him, “Stay on this side and don’t get too close to the Miaohua Mirror. Be careful not to get hurt from its energy.”
The little dough obediently listened and stayed away. He kicked on the small gravels as he grumbled, “Dad’s a meanie. I clearly remember last night sleeping in mom's Changsheng Palace. But this morning, I woke up in Qing'yun Palace. Dad lied to me and said I sleepwalked home.” He then shrugged a helpless shrug and said, “It was obvious he had carried me back after I fell asleep so he could keep mom to himself. So unscrupulous of him to lie to his own son.”
Fengjiu tossed some melon seeds in the air and said, “Then why didn’t you run back to Changsheng Palace and cry up a scene? That was your own mistake.”
The little dough jerked in surprise. “I heard only girls can cry, cause a ruckus, and hang themselves.” Stuttering, he asked, “A boy can do the same?”
Fengjiu caught the falling seeds and gave a deadpan reply: “Yes, dear boy. Our forefathers included equality in Heaven's codes of law.”
With his cheek propped, Donghua gazed after the disappearing silhouettes of the cousins. In his hand was a book. Within the Miaohua Mirror was the drastic changes of kingdoms' affairs told through battles and wars. When it completed its recount of an epoch's rise and fall, the tea on the stone table was also coming to a boil.
There was still a long way to go from the entrance gate to Chengtian Terrace.
When they reached a rockery, the dough complained fussily and stopped to rest. As they sat down, a blinding silver light appeared from the sky. At the center of this light was a galloping horse-drawn chaise. Its wheels ran across puffs of cloud, leaving behind residual cloud masses. When the cotton-like clouds drifted away, in the air was a lingering scent of wild flowers.
Such a grand display. This horse carriage must have belonged to a fairy who ascended Heaven from the lower realm for the Flower Festival.
In a flash, the carriage had disappeared. It seemed it was heading for the 8th level of Heaven. Behind the rockery rang the sounds of two maidservants in gossip.
“Wasn’t that Princess Zhi'he on the chaise, Donghua Dijun’s foster sister?” said one.
“What a show-off,” the other unhurriedly replied. “But how fast time flies by. She’s been punished to the mortal realm for three hundred years now.”
“Why was Princess Zhi'he exiled? You worked on the 13th sky that year, can you tell me?”
She pondered a long while and at last lowered her voice to reply. “I’m not sure myself, but that year was indeed a troubling time. They say the eldest princess of the Demon Clan was to be married into Taichen Palace. But because Princess Zhi'he was in love with Donghua Dijun, she caused the wedding to fall through. Tianjun was furious at this news and thus relegated her to the lower realm.”
The first one was stunned. “What did you say? Married into Taichen Palace? To His Majesty? Why have I never heard of this rumor before? I thought the King has never bothered himself with these worldly matters?”
After some unhurried moments, the other replied, “This union between the Demon Clan and the Fairy Clan... that year only Lord Liansong and His Majesty were still single. These aren’t our business to begin with. Moreover, Dijun hadn't ever paid much attention to anything outside of the heavenly laws. He probably didn’t even know what taking a Queen meant.”
The first one sighed, and then still not wanting to stop, led right into another topic: “Oh, I remember I once had the honor of meeting Dijun three hundred years ago. He had a fiery red fox by his side. The elders from Taichen Palace said Dijun especially loved that little fox. He took it with him everywhere he went. But why did I not see a red fox at the Crown Prince’s wedding a few days ago?”
After a long pause, the other sighed, “That fairy fox was indeed Dijun's favorite. But shortly after the news of Dijun’s impending wedding was announced from Taichen Palace, the fox had disappeared without a trace. Dijun sent people to look for it all over the thirty six levels of Heaven, but in the end, it couldn’t be found.”
Fengjiu leaned against the boulder and tossed her pouch of melon seeds up and down. On her last toss, she used a bit too much strength and threw the pouch at the rockery next to the small lotus pond. The startled maids frantically rushed away. Their footsteps gradually receded, guaranteeing their distant departure.
The little dough refrained himself until his face turned red. Staring at the rippling surface of the lotus pond, he wailed, “And what are we gonna eat now when we go see the play?”
Fengjiu fixed her clothes and stood up to leave. The little dough dropped his head and sulked. “How come there was a fairy fox here but I didn't know about it?” Then he mumbled dubiously, “But where did that fox go?”
Fengjiu stopped walking and waited for him.
The first rays of the morning sun shone down on the 7th sky, spreading a golden light which gave the landscape a painted effect.
Fengjiu covered her face from the golden sunlight and said, “Perhaps it has gone home.” Then she turned and glared at the little dough. “Hey shorty, can you hurry it up?”
The little dough determinedly shook his head and replied, “No, I can't!”
Only until Chengtian Terrace came into their sight did Fengjiu finally realize the aurora from the sky just now wasn't early rays beaming from the Morning God's rosy clouds of dawn.
She stood 100 meters away from Chengtian Terrace, stunned frozen on her feet.
Very close within reach, the 100-meter tall Chengtian Terrace made from icy marble for some reason was surrounded in a sea of fire. If Migu hadn't quickly created a force field, the fire would have consumed the singers and dancers by now. The horse chaise belonging to the fleeting glimpse of a beauty earlier was also stopped in front of the fire.
Behind the raging flames suddenly reverberated a loud screeching roar.
Fengjiu narrowed her eyes and finally saw the cause of the fire. A Chiyan (Red Flame) Beast8 was flapping its wings out of the fire sea. From its bloodthirsty mouth came shooting flames. It circled the brass bell and flew back into the sea of fire once more, aggressively attacking Migu's force field. The clear force field started to crack, giving way to the fire. The color of fear surfaced on the dancers' faces. They were likely wailing in horror, but because of the force field, no sound could be heard. Like a frozen painting, it gave birth to an eerie atmosphere.
Princess Zhihe's reason for returning to Heaven was plainly obvious. On one hand, she would be attending Lord Liansong's Flower Festival. On the other hand, she could use this chance to meet up with her heart's desire, her foster brother Donghua Dijun. She must owe this opportunity of returning to Jiuchongtian to High Deity Bai Qian's opera-watching pastime. Knowing Bai Qian liked plays, Zhi'he had handpicked and presented to Bai Qian a few of her singers and dancers. Because of this layered reason, she was able to appear as though she was here to oversee her entertainer troupe.
Yet she somehow found herself in this unfortunate disaster. Someone had released the Chiyan Beast's seal and caused the fire the moment her chariot got here.
Zhi'he was, in fact, a water deity. When she was still residing at Taichen Palace, she was the subordinate of the Four Seas' Water God, Liansong Shenjun, in charge of calling rain for the western lands. It was quite rare to come across a useful female fairy on Heaven. For that reason, when she was relegated to the lower realm, she still retained her water god post.
But she knew at this moment her ability to call rain was of little use. She wasn't an opponent to the beast standing before her eyes. As she thought of looking for help, the male fairy in the other force field was yelling something at her. He seemed to have a solution, and he kept yelling, but she couldn't hear a word.
She was still dithering when a blur of white flashed before her eyes. In the air, a pair of white brocade slippers glided forth and billowing sleeves flapped like blooming lotus petals in the hot airstream.
Zhi'he fluttered her eyes from the slippers upward past the gossamer skirt. A startled gasp escaped her. She had seen this face somewhere before in her memory: a pair of thin cold lips, a straight tall nose, a pair of apricotlike eyes, and elegant eyebrows. In the middle of her icy pretty forehead was a phoenix flower mark.
But the girl in her memory had only been a lowly maid at Taichen Palace. In those juvenile days she couldn’t stop herself from being jealous of such a stunning servant. Fearing even Donghua would be bewitched if he saw her beauty, she did everything she could to prevent them from meeting one another. Secretly, she had given the maid many a hard time; sometimes she had been downright cruel.
“You're...” she uttered dubiously.
But the one standing before her spoke first. Icily, she said, “As a water deity, why aren't you making rain when there's a fire? What did they make you a water deity for?”
Not waiting for Zhi'he to counter, she took out the flute from her waist and turned straight into the flames.
Over the years, Fengjiu was an expert at precisely two things. One was cooking, the other was fighting. She had lived as a recluse in Qingqiu for the past 200 years without engaging in a single brawl. It was quite a boring life. Now suddenly the Chiyan Beast was causing trouble. It'd be a lie to say she wasn't itching for a little exercise.
The white silk danced into the vast fire. The sound of her flute circled the air, calling rain to come.
Her whirling lone flute tune wound around the fire straight to the sky, waking up the Silver River. From the 36th level of Heaven, the Silver River’s water flooded down. In a flash, it was pouring. Although the rain was now tempering the fire, it triggered a new furor in the Chiyan Beast. It left its previous target, Migu's force field, and blew fire straight at Fengjiu.
That was Fengjiu's ‘lure the tiger away from its cave’ tactic. If not for saving Migu and the entertainers, with her personality, she'd already kill the animal with her Taozhu sword. Of course her opponent was actually a strong beast, and to kill it would be a long process. But at least she wouldn’t be in a stalemate like this.
Fengjiu now felt bleak. She couldn't handle both tasks on her own. Her flute continued to summon the rain while she adroitly attacked the demon. Zhi'he was pretty much useless. Fengjiu could only hope the short-legged dough could run home fast enough to find backup.
As she pondered, she remained able to lucidly dodge the Chiyan Beast's fireballs. But because she was using the bamboo flute to call rain, she couldn't cast a protective barrier around herself. From head to toe she became soaking wet. The rain continued to pour, causing the flames surrounding Chengtian Terrace to finally subside. The Chiyan Beast single-mindedly aimed at Fengjiu's body, not noticing that the territory behind him was now undefended. One by one, everyone escaped.
Confronting this way for half a day, Fengjiu was starting to feel tired. She hadn't fought in so long... to lose the battle after only one move? She couldn't allow that to happen. How would she show her face in Qingqiu again? She thought it was time to put away the flute and use the Taozhu sword. However, if she were to attack from the front, it'd most likely be able to escape. Yet if she were to attack from behind, in case it fled away, she herself wouldn't be able to dodge. What could she do now?
She considered these scenarios but before she could come up with an answer, a cold blade from behind had suddenly pierced straight ahead.
The Chiyan Beast breathed raging flames at her. She couldn't care about anything else at this point. As she was trying to escape, an unknown hand brought her away.
The wind force from the moving blade gushed at her sleeves; it was so strong it seemed to have formed an invisible wall suppressing the colossal licking flames. Behind a blast of silver light, the blazing fire ball was hurled back in the direction of the Chiyan Beast.
In her bewilderment, a purple robe fell over her. She struggled to crawl out from under the robe and took a look at the sword-wielding man's back. His body was draped in royal purple, his hair as white as the snow in Qingqiu.
In Taichen Palace, these slender hands had held Buddhist sutras. Outside of Taichen Palace, they now held the Cang'he sword. He looked splendid no matter what he held.
Chengtian Terrace was drowned in blood. It wasn't clear what Donghua did, but behind the silver light, the Chiyan Beast gave out a miserable cry and fled toward the skyline. After two strokes, he heavily fell from the air, causing Chengtian Terrace to shake in tremors.
Donghua sheathed his blade back into its scabbard. Not a bead of blood had touched his body.
Princess Zhi'he remained leaning against the chariot, her face blanched white. She wanted to come closer but ended up retreating from fear.
Although they had escaped, the entertainers couldn't help but remain in shock after such a tremendous scare. Some even began to sob.
Migu helped Fengjiu sit down on a stone seat at the foot of Chengtian Tai. He was comforting her, but he couldn't help himself from lecturing her at the same time. “How reckless of you. If His Majesty hadn’t come to your rescue in time what would’ve been the consequences? It doesn’t matter if I died but what would I tell your aunt if something had happened to you?”
Fengjiu muttered, “Didn't everything turn out alright?”
Although she was very grateful toward Donghua, she felt that without him, her aunt and uncle would have eventually come. It wasn't that big of a deal; her life hadn’t really been in danger. As she saw Donghua approach with his sword, she thought he was going to Princess Zhi'he, so she got up and moved to the side of the table to let him by. Noticing that his robe was still on her body, Fengjiu lowered her voice and whispered to Migu, “Take off your coat and let me borrow it.”
Migu sneezed. Glancing at the purple robe draped over her body, he asked, “Don't you already have dry clothes?” Then after searching for words, he added, “It’s all in the past, isn’t it? You haven’t thought about it anymore for the past 200 years, why are you paying attention to trivial details today?” He then held tightly onto his own clothes, determined not to lend her any.
Fengjiu removed the dry robe and folded it to return to its owner.
But just as she raised her head, she stepped back in alarm.
Donghua had already come before her with the Cang'he sword in his hand. He looked at her with cold calm eyes.
Her body was soaked through. Large drops of water continuously fell down, and before long a small puddle had formed around her feet. She was extremely embarrassed. While the dripping continued, she glanced back at him and the atmosphere became rather awkward. In her heart, mixed flavors surfaced. She thought of their last encounter and became afraid. She wasn’t used to this yet. She still didn't know how to treat this person. To prevent careless mistakes from happening, it was best to avoid him. Recently she even went as far as hiding from him. But she didn’t understand why the more she avoided him, the more they kept seeing each other.
Donghua gazed at her from head to toe, his eyes falling on the neatly folded purple robe in her hands. He raised his indifferent voice and asked her, “Are you not happy with my robe?”
Fengjiu thought they were standing too close; the faint scent of white sandalwood was giving her a slight headache. She stepped back and put some distance in between them. When she was at an appropriate distance, with a stiff smile, she replied, “I wouldn't dare. But if I were to borrow Your Majesty's outer robe now, I’d have to wash it and return it to you later… that means we’ll have to see each other again, erm I mean, I’ll have to disturb you again.” Seeing a hard line set on his face, she paused and added, “I’m afraid to disturb your peace.”
Donghua placed the Cang'he sword on the stone table, producing a clink.
Migu coughed loudly and said, “Dijun, don’t misunderstand. Her Highness didn’t mean she doesn’t want to see you. You are so magnificent;
she’s disappointed she doesn’t get to see you every day…” Fengjiu swiftly stepped on his foot and he had no choice but to swallow back the rest of his words in pain.
Donghua glanced at Fengjiu and appeared to have understood. “If that's the case, I’ll give it to you as a souvenir. You don’t have to give it back.”
Fengjiu's inherent stiff smile completely froze on her face. “That... wasn’t what I meant.”
Donghua slowly sat down. “Then wash it and give it back to me.”
Fengjiu smiled, even if her smile was as rigid as an ice block. But this ice block was starting to lose her temper. She dragged her lips to reply: “The weather is warm today; I don’t really feel that cold.” She then wanted to add bluntly: “I just don’t want to borrow the dang robe, alright?” But after weighing it in her mind, she decided it would sound too ill-mannered. She pondered on another way to put it and at last, sweetly said, “Can I not borrow this robe?” She had only spoken when a gust of wind swept over the air making her shiver in chills.
Donghua received the tea which appeared out of nowhere from Migu and took a sip. “No.”
Fengjiu had been reining in her temper like a block of ice, but her smile finally dropped from her face. She didn’t know what else to say, and numbly asked, “Why not?”
Donghua placed his teacup down and slightly lifted his eyes. “I saved you. Normally others would use their lives to repay such favors. How hard is it to wash one shirt?”
Fengjiu thought back to the past and recalled he wasn't at all the bullying kind. But then she thought perhaps there were times when he was this way, too; he just hadn’t let her see it. She gathered her thoughts and put on a stiff smile. “Your Majesty, why are you making it difficult for me?”
Donghua tapped lightly on the teacup and slowly looked back at her. “It’s the only hobby I have.”
Fengjiu didn't know whether to laugh or cry. “Your Majesty, you really…”
Donghua placed the teacup down again. Propping his chin on his hand, he nonchalantly looked at her. “What about me?” Seeing Fengjiu rendered speechless, his normally indifferent eyes revealed a faintest smile. “Say, why did you want to save them?” he asked.
In truth, she wasn't rendered speechless. It just so happened his countenance at this time was so very familiar. It was this same face which had left her a deep impression from long ago. That was why she had stood there in a daze and before she could react, he had changed the topic. But she had heard his question clearly... why did she want to save them? She wasn't sure at first herself. It wasn't because she had cared for other people's lives, but rather because someone had told her something once. At length, she softly replied, “My late husband once told me the strong exist to protect the weak. If I do not save them, I'd be a weakling myself, then what rights would I have to protect my subjects?”
Many years later, Donghua had not been able to forget Fengjiu's words. He wasn't sure what her words had meant. He only knew this child had always made him feel dear although he didn't recognize who she was. In his memory, the first time he ever saw her was by the Wangsheng shore near Qingqiu. With wet hair as dark as sea kelps, she rode the waves and came ashore. But he hadn't remembered her appearance then, in the same way he hadn’t remembered how the sunflowers had looked that day.
Today's incident made its way around every corner of Jiuchongtian. On top of that, there were several versions in circulation. In mere seconds, Donghua was thrown all the way from the divine Daoist Trinity9 down to one hundred meters of the vulgar world.
It was said at the time the Chiyan Beast was wreaking havoc at Chengtian Terrace, Donghua was adding commentaries in his Buddhist scriptures.
When he heard his foster sister Princess Zhi'he was trapped in the fire, he at once rushed to her rescue and subdued the beast. It thus could be seen that Donghua treated his foster sister differently from the rest. However, another said during the Chengtian Terrace fire, Donghua happened to walk by and saw a heavenly maiden fighting to the death with the Chiyan Beast. She was losing and he could no longer bear to watch so he drew his sword to lend her a hand. Tianjun had always deemed Dijun to be a deity with neither desire nor want. It turned out there were also times when Tianjun was wrong. These stories went on and on.
After Liansong caught news of this story, he came to Taichen Palace to look for Donghua for a round of chess and wine. At the same time, he prodded Donghua for confirmation. “That rumor from Chengtian Terrace about a beauty fighting the beast, and you who couldn't stop yourself from helping her, I didn’t really believe it…” He placed a white stone down and continued: “But you know, if you've finally decided that someday you'll marry a queen to do pair spiritual study10 with, Zhi'he isn't a bad choice. Shall I help you put in a good word with my father and bring Zhi'he back to Heaven?”
Donghua turned his wine cup. He looked at the chessboard in contemplation and replied, “A beauty? They think she's pretty?”
“Pardon?”
Donghua leisurely placed a black stone down, blocking the formation of the white pieces. “They’ve got some good eyesight.”
Liansong halted. When he recovered, he closed his fan and asked in surprise, “You really saw a beauty at Chengtian Terrace?”
Donghua kept his eyes on the chessboard. “Are you sure you came to play chess?”
Liansong laughed heartily.
Even Donghua's best friend, Lord Liansong, didn't believe these rumors. Of course everyone else on the 7th level of Heaven likewise took it as a joke. They made a few guesses on Princess Zhihe's favorable future, predicting that her miserable days were finally coming to an end, and that she might soon return to Heaven and perhaps even start something wonderful together with Dijun.
It was said that Jiuchongtian had a rule where immortals had to rid of their seven emotions and six desires11. However, this rule only applied to those not born from fairy births. Ascension to divinity was already anomalous. There was naturally a price to pay for immortality. Donghua, however, had existed since the time Yin and Yang separated at the Blue Sea, a true spirit born out of Heaven and Earth. He wasn't bound to such a rule. For him, taking a queen was a perfectly reasonable matter.
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Re: Три жизни, три мира / Three Lives Three Worlds (Китай)
- Chapter 02 :
When Fengjiu was little, her parents had wanted to build a love nest for just themselves, so for a long stretch of time she was tossed over into the care of her aunt Bai Qian. Growing up with this aunt, she did everything from snaring birds in the sky to catching fish in the stream. Once, she even plucked all the feathers clean from her fourth uncle's Jingwei bird12 while he was taking a nap.
Taking into account her even wilder childhood days, Bai Qian turned a blind eye to Fengjiu's mischiefs.
However, her aunt Bai Qian did raise her with an understanding of the greater good. For example, Bai Qian once told Fengjiu that the most important thing in being a deity was to not be afraid of losing face, because being shameless was also a sort of courage as it allowed one to bravely take that first step. No matter what, as long as she wasn’t afraid of embarrassment and kept hanging on, she would succeed in the long run.
Years later, Fengjiu used this same logic to pass onto the little dough when she encouraged him to fight for the rights to his mother’s bedchamber against his father. “The most important thing in being an immortal is shamelessness. As long as you’re shameless… anything can be done.”
At night, the little dough repeated these remarks word for word to Bai Qian, asking his mother what it meant exactly to be shameless as well as how to be thick-faced like his father. Bai Qian placed down the bowl of lotus soup she was going to bring to Yehua as a late night snack, then went to the study within Zhangsheng Palace and picked out a few bundles of thick Buddhist sutras. She packed them to the rim in a wooden cart, and taking advantage of the late hours, sent them over to Fengjiu’s place. She idly added an instruction to her dear niece that if she didn’t finish copying
everything by the next sundown, a series of blind dates would be waiting for her from sunrise to sunset.
Fengjiu was already drifting to dreamland when she was woken up by Bai Qian’s maid, Nainai. As her eyes fluttered open, she saw the heaps of sutras stacked high in front of her. She remembered she had said some nonsense to the dough in the morning, and now cried a river of tears in remorse.
The next day, not being able to finish copying all of the scriptures, Fengjiu was carried to the Moonlight Garden on the 32nd level of Heaven.
The Moonlight Garden was covered with carefree trees; amid the tall canopies were countless extraordinary flowers. This was where Daode Tianzun13 of Taiqing taught his students.
Every young male immortal was gathered at this party. Fengjiu swept her eyes and estimated that there were about 100 people present. Some were in conversations with their colleagues, some were anxiously gazing to the garden entrance. It would be alright if it was only a couple of people, or even four or five, but Fengjiu was overwhelmed seeing dozens of them like this. She was audacious, but even then she took one startled step back, and another, and another. From nearby, Bai Qian's voice rose to tell the attendant next to her: “Ah, I think we should just tie her up. She must attend this party no matter what. We mustn’t let her escape half-way.”
Fengjiu's heart churned and she immediately turned and ran.
She leapt her way out of there. The maid followed her closely behind, matching her steps wit for wit and courage for courage. Fengjiu didn't know when she started to lose them either. She could only tell by the time she passed the dense foliage of the Sal trees, when the branches shook and pale yellow petals fell on her hair, behind her, the sound of chasing wind had stopped.
She heaved and looked back. There really wasn’t anyone. There was only the Silver River running afar, with the sunset's rosy light faintly reflected on its shimmering water.
Careless talk leads to trouble. Her mouth had gotten her into trouble and she had had to transcribe Buddhist scriptures all day long. At present, with two Sal trees right in front of her eyes, her brain was filled with the Long Agama. What was written in it again? ‘At that time, the Venerated Buddha reached parinirvana under the two Sal trees within the garden in Kushinagar.” Those sorts of words...
Fengjiu brushed the petals from her hair and sighed as she walked. It wasn't a waste after all if she was able to remember such difficult passages. She looked around and realized how dirty and tired she was after the chase. She wondered if she should undress and take a dip under the Wangtian spring behind these Sal trees.
She contemplated for a long while.
The moon was finally rising from the East, and although it hadn't risen very high, and wasn’t as romantic as would be seen by mortals gazing at it from afar, the cold silver moonlight managed to feebly spread over the rocks and flowers nearby. A few steps away, a thin fog shrouded over the azure water, diffusing a warm mystical energy. Fengjiu looked around; it was past the Dog hour (past 9 pm) and assumedly no one would come at this time. She took off her coat, then her tunic, then her undergarment, and stepped into the clear water.
She lowered herself and found that the hot water came up to her neck. Only now did Fengjiu let out a comfortable sigh. She looked at her palm and saw that many Sal petals had drifted in with the wind. She gathered them up and began to string them into a strand. Suddenly, she heard rustling sounds behind the large boulder.
Fengjiu's petal-gathering hands froze mid-air.
A slight ripple moved across the clear water surface, breaking the reflection of the moon. A figure in white emerged from behind the boulder in the
middle of the spring. Fengjiu ceased her breathing as she saw that figure wading the water and increasingly nearing closer. At last a tall person emerged from the mist, with long silver hair and a handsome countenance.
Fengjiu leaned against the rock wall. Even though she had always been thick-faced, this was definitely an embarrassing situation. Her face blanched white. But being Qingqiu’s queen, she quickly regained composure and considered saying hello to him.
But how to say hellos in this situation was also an art in itself. Had she been here to look at the flowers, she could've asked him, “What great weather we have today. Is Your Majesty also here to enjoy the flowers?” But how could she raise her naked arm up to ask him, “What great weather we have today. Is Your Majesty also here to take a bath?”
While Fengjiu miserably pondered over what to say, Donghua leisurely walked to the other side of the bank without bothering to glance once at her.
Fengjiu thought to herself that perhaps Dijun didn't see her. Then she hadn't really lost face in front of him, had she?
She was about to heave in secret relief when Donghua Dijun had stopped short of going back on shore and in an instant, slid his cloak over her body.
At that exact moment, Fengjiu heard someone's voice from nearby. It sounded like Lord Liansong, who was awkwardly laughing. “Dear me, I'm so sorry. I saw nothing, nothing at all. I'm leaving now.”
She numbly ripped Donghua's white cloak from her head. Her gaze went to the far distance where the carefree branches slightly shook under the moonlight. Donghua in only his inner tunic stood on shore looking at her for a length of time. At long last, he asked “What are you doing here?”
“Bathing,” Fengjiu honestly answered him. Her face flushed pink from the water steam.
She suddenly remembered although the spring water here was blue in color, it was so clear one could see down to its streambed. Her face grew
red. Within seconds she looked as if she was steeped in boiling water. “You... close your eyes. You can't look this way. No, turn elsewhere... turn elsewhere quickly!”
Donghua unhurriedly looked at her from head to toe and finally, with great forbearance, turned to face another direction.
Fengjiu frantically looked at the heap of clothes on the shore. She didn't think she'd be in this situation when she took them off. Even her undergarment was so far away that if she wanted to pick it up, half her body would need to leave the water in order to retrieve it.
She was so befuddled she forgot that she was actually a fox. She needed only to shapeshift back into her original form and Donghua wouldn't be able to see a thing.
While she was still troubled, long slender fingers had brought her white skirt before her eyes. Donghua at this point still had his face turned. His long lashed eyes were still sealed. She was about to grab her skirt when she asked in horror, “How did you know I wanted my clothes?”
Normally in order to keep up with the image of Qingqiu's Queen, she always pretended to be generous and wise. Now she was showing her childishness like a lively young goddess.
Donghua paused and was going to withdraw his hand. Despite her fussy words, she immediately snatched her skirt at the speed of light. She quickly covered the sensitive areas on her body and came ashore to dress herself. Too embarrassed to bid goodbye, she quickly fled the scene.
Donghua called her back, “Hey, you forgot something.”
She couldn't help but to look back, and saw Donghua bending down to pick up something. When she realized what it was, all the blood in her body had rushed to her head.
The thing Donghua was picking up was... an undergarment.
A lotus-pink undergarment.
Her undergarment.
Donghua's shirt was gaping slightly, exposing part of his collarbone. With an unchanging expression, he casually handed her the undershirt. Fengjiu didn't even know whether to receive it or not, feeling the whole world tumbling down.
While they remained in a deadlock, the adjacent tree rustled and out came the elegant figure of Liansong. “Umm, I forgot my fan. I came back to retrieve it but it looks like I'm interrupting you two. I'll come by to apologize another day. You guys... please do continue...”
Fengjiu wanted to cry so very badly. She quickly grabbed her undershirt and leapt over the wall. A breeze picked up the Sal petals and swirled them in the air.
Liansong faintly smiled and looked toward Donghua. “Aren’t you going to run after her?” Then with a twinkle in his eyes, he asked, “The beauty you met by Chengtian Terrace the other day was Fengjiu of Qingqiu? But shouldn’t you know? If you want to make her your queen, in the future you’ll have to call that brat Yehua your uncle…”
Donghua stared at his robe and unhurriedly answered, “Some days ago I heard a rumor that you have fallen for Cheng'yu Yuanjun?”
Liansong closed the fan in his hand. “Hey…”
Donghua continued, “I'm thinking about making her my goddaughter. What do you think?”
Liansong, “…”
Fengjiu wasn’t one to mull over the minor details in life. But what had happened wasn’t minor at all. Who could tell what was going to be its consequences?
After losing her dignity in front of Donghua, Fengjiu couldn’t bear to show her face elsewhere. She hid away for two days straight inside the little dough’s Qing’yun Palace, hoping someone would offer a kind consolation. Anyone but her aunt Bai Qian.
But it’d been so long yet no one came to clear the blockage in her mind. Fengjiu finally approached the dough.
“If you once liked a girl, and after many years you see her again…” Looking for an appropriate example, she at length asked, “and she finds out you’re still wearing diapers. What would you do?”
The little dough stared at her and refuted, “I haven’t worn diapers in a long time.”
“I only said if. If,” Fengjiu quickly placated him.
The dough thought a while, his small face blushing red. Embarrassed, he turned away and said in discomfit, “Then that really is embarrassing. Only your dropping your undergarment when you see your crush again could really compare to something as embarrassing as that.” Still uncomfortable, the dough said, “If that’s the case, I’d rather ram my head into tofu and kill myself.”
At first, Fengjiu had started to cheer up. But after hearing the little dough’s words, she was depressed for several days more. By the end of the fourth day, Bai Qian sent a maid over with a message that the singers and dancers from Chengtian Terrace had recovered and would put together a play at Hebi Yuan, asking for her to come and watch. At this time, Fengjiu put aside her sorrow and finally left Qing’yun Palace.
On the stage within Hebi Garden was a herd of female generals in gaudy garments singing noisy lines.
Bai Qian with a white silk fan sidled near Fengjiu and said, “Heaven is kicking up a fuss in recent days over some interesting rumors. Have you heard any of them?” She coughed. “That is, of course, I’m not too keen on gossips.”
With utter discernment, Fengjiu replied, “Of course you’re not anxious over these things. I’m not either. But please, go ahead.”
Bai Qian nodded and unhurriedly went on. “That’s right, neither of us like minding other people’s business, so you must not have thought of this either. The Donghua Dijun whom we all thought was an honorable man… we have indeed been fooled. It’s a good thing you broke off your fate with him 300 years ago. It was fortunate Heaven had helped you cut this tie clean.”
Fengjiu lifted her head attentively.
“They say he is hiding a remarkable beauty inside Taichen Palace, and that he’s completely taken with her,” Bai Qian said as she peeled a walnut.
Fengjiu placed her teacup down and lowered her eyes. “Then, this must be why His Majesty hadn’t left Taichen Palace for so many years.” She lightly laughed, “Of course, if next to him is a beautiful girl, he would never feel lonely without ever leaving home.”
Bai Qian handed her a peeled walnut. “You need not pay too much attention. You two have nothing to do with each other anymore. I'm not telling you this to upset you.”
Fengjiu picked up her teacup again and asked, “Who could this beauty be whom Dijun adores so much?”
“I asked Siming once, not that I wanted to. I don’t really care about this matter that much. But Siming didn’t know a thing either. After this secret spread, everyone started to guess at who the mysterious fairy is. But Donghua hadn’t opened his mouth once regarding this. That’s why they can’t come up with any name besides his foster sister Zhi’he. But in my opinion, Zhi’he has been staying in the mortal realm all these years. I wouldn’t think she’s the one.”
Fengjiu held her teacup and listened intently.
Bai Qian took another sip and continued. “As for the beauty, she does indeed exist. I heard Donghua had left Taichen Palace and gone to the hot spring with her last week. They were caught by Lord Liansong, which is why such rumors are now leaking.”
Fengjiu fell over and crashed on the ground. “The hot spring…?” she asked as she supported her hand on the chair.
Bai Qian looked down at her in surprise and continued, “Are you surprised, too? I was shocked! This rumor has only spread a few days ago, but upon careful analysis, I think it’s rather trustworthy. Do you know Cheng’yu Yuanjun whom Lord Liansong is in love with? Before I returned, it was Cheng’yu who took care of the little dough. I heard Cheng’yu was actually the illegitimate daughter sired by Donghua and this fairy.”
In the middle of climbing up, Fengjiu fell to the ground once more.
Fengjiu knew well what her position was. She was a widow.
There was a famous mortal saying: ‘scandals are aplenty in front of a widow’s home’.
Fengjiu suddenly realized it wasn’t because she was a proper widow that no scandal happened during her 300 years of widowhood. It was in fact because Qingqiu was a quiet place. On the other hand, she had only arrived on Jiuchongtian for a few days and already rumors were flying off the roof. But to hear such rumors now had made her somewhat worried. She felt she hadn’t done her job of living a widow’s life if she was caught in this scandal. Even 300 years ago, she wouldn’t be happy to be associated with Donghua in such gossips.
Fengjiu excelled at one thing not even her aunt Bai Qian was good at. When came across a perplexing matter, Bai Qian would never be able to put it out of her mind. But Fengjiu wasn’t like that; she dealt with things only as her ability allowed her to. In her opinion, her best trait wasn’t cooking. Siming once praised her for being dogged in her efforts but also resolute once she decided to let go. She believed her behaviors had been worthy of his praise.
Previously, she hadn’t prepared well; later she came to remember an adage she had invented. After living for 30,000 years, she had built up a substantial collection of proverbs from experience. She had to dig from her memory for the longest time before she remembered it: ‘One should never be attached to a man who is attached to other women, no matter how great a man he is. Even less so should one attach oneself to a man who is attached to other men’. She once lived and died for him yet he had never paid any attention to her. He might even have loved someone else instead. She lowered her own status to become a maid, spent centuries sweeping and dusting around his palace. She wasn't even qualified to speak to him. This whole matter – she could pretend it never existed. Naturally she should avoid whatever that could be avoided.
Recognizing this, she made sure to maintain a certain distance from him. But for some reason, that distance was closing on itself more and more. She thought for a long time and decided she needed to put more effort into staying away from him from now on.
But just as she came to this decision, she discovered that the citrine bracelet she had always worn on her wrist, which was gifted by Qingti, had disappeared. It was a very important bracelet.
She carefully recalled past events and figured she must have lost it behind Donghua’s Taichen Palace that night.
Before they maintain a greater distance, she had to come see him for one last time.
But this was truly a stormy business. She must be absolutely careful, lest she ends up alarming the people by his side. How complicated.
Fengjiu evaluated the situation and remembered that the fifth of May was just around the corner. Although Donghua was living in seclusion on the 13th celestial sky, he still had responsibilities he hadn’t relinquished to Tianjun yet, such as keeping the immortal records. There was a saying: ‘Wear green skirt, come to Heaven's gates; give thanks to Heaven and Earth, pay homage to Dongjun.’ Every year when mortals ascended Heaven as newly minted fairies, they would need to make a stop at QingYun Hall14, and Donghua would be the one to award them with an appropriate title.
As had always been the practice, Donghua Dijun would stay behind to check the recordings in the Lianxin Mirror hung in Qing Yun Hall when everyone took leave toward the end. Fengjiu surmised that there was no better opportunity to come see him than at that exact time.
On the fifth day of May, luan birds15 filled the air with their songs and Mandarava flowers16 blossomed in the rain.
Fengjiu had planned to camp outside of Qing Yun Hall since earlier, but the little dough had hung onto her for an entire morning. The easily abandoned dough was getting smarter and smarter these days. When she finally arrived on the 36th sky, she could hear no sound indicating a ceremony was in conduct.
Fengjiu thought that court must have been dismissed. Pretending to be dabbing her sweat, she covered half of her face with a handkerchief and asked the immortal standing guard at the doors, “His Majesty… is he inside by himself?”
The guard was a stammering man, but he was a responsible stammering man. He blocked the entrance and asked her, “Dare I a… ask… for your name?”
Fengjiu pulled her kerchief over her entire face this time, leaving only her chin, and replied, “Bai Qian of Qingqiu.”
The guard bowed respectfully and said, “Your Highness, His Majesty is… is indeed in… inside by himself.”
Fengjiu sighed in relief and thanked him while saying: “I need to talk to him in private so please don’t let anyone else come in. I’ll thank you generously after this.” Then she proceeded into the gate.
The guard didn’t dare to stop her, but he wasn’t ecstatic in letting her through either. He scratched his head in frustration.
“Are you that happy to see me?” Fengjiu asked as she turned around. After some moments of thoughts, she added, “Should I sign an autograph for you?”
The guard shook his head rapidly and said, “His Majesty, by himself… in…inside…”
Fengjiu nodded in comprehension after a moment of silence. “Has he been waiting for some time? How considerate of you. I’ll enter, then.” And she hurriedly stepped in.
When Fengjiu’s back disappeared in the distance, the guard finally spoke the words which got stuck in his throat, “By himself, inside, heading a meeting w… with everyone…cannot, cannot… be disturbed.”
Qing Yun Hall on the 36th level of Heaven was the only place on Jiuchongtian surrounded by cerulean clouds. Built with tourmaline beams and amethyst walls, it had always been an ornate and magnificent building. But its polished exterior was by no means its brilliance. Its true virtue was its soundproof quality. Fengjiu, however, wasn’t aware of this. She listened for a while, and after not hearing a sound, decided Donghua must indeed be alone inside.
Fengjiu was taught personally by Bai Zhen since a young age that if she wanted to collect debts, she should start by exchanging pleasantries. But in case this failed, she should concentrate on simply tree words: quick, accurate, and relentless. The bracelet was surely lost behind Donghua Dijun’s home but she couldn’t disregard the chance that he would refute her claim. Hence, if she wanted it back, she would have to cram her facts into his head and make him confess at the outset.
Fengjiu recited the three words ‘quick’, ‘accurate’, and ‘relentless’ again, inhaled quickly and… raised her leg to kick open the hall's doors. When her leg had stretched out half-way, she suddenly changed her mind. She stepped back and used her hand instead. Her voice became the only sound within the hall, loud and clear. “The other night I lost my citrine bracelet. Might it be with Your Majes…” Her words abruptly froze on her tongue.
There were people in Qing Yun Hall.
Not just people, but a horde of them.
Fengjiu numbly stared at the two long lines of bowed courtiers. They were wearing scholar robes; it was obvious they were in the middle of being granted various celestial titles. Underneath the imperial seat was a kneeling fairy; in his hand was a bamboo tablet17. He had only come before Donghua to recite his various merits.
At this point everyone had collected himself and looked back at Fengjiu with fear at her audacious words. The only person who showed no emotion was the same one sitting high on the golden throne. Donghua propped his arms on the arm rest with disinterest. He gazed down at her from high above.
Fengjiu was startled for a moment. She pushed the hall’s doors and struggled to say with calm: “Pardon me. Sleepwalking… careless...got lost.”
Donghua’s voice came to her at an unhurried pace. “That bracelet… was indeed left at my place.”
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Re: Три жизни, три мира / Three Lives Three Worlds (Китай)
Юлечка, спасибо за новые главы. Но вот ведь незадача! Не чувствую я красоты английского языка... Сто лет им не занималась. Ушла легкость прочтения и восприятия (если и была))). Придется схалтурить - запустить через переводчик.))) Но все равно, жду продолжения. Страсть, как любопытно узнать всю историю Ди Дзюня и Фэн Дзю.)))
Ellenaaa- Мастер изящного слога
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Откуда : Владивосток
Re: Три жизни, три мира / Three Lives Three Worlds (Китай)
Сегодня пересматривала двадцатые серии - самые печальные и тревожные. Ну не могла пройти мимо такой красоты! Немного скринов 22 серии от меня.
(Кликабельно).
(Кликабельно).
Ellenaaa- Мастер изящного слога
- Сообщения : 5326
Дата регистрации : 2014-09-05
Откуда : Владивосток
Re: Три жизни, три мира / Three Lives Three Worlds (Китай)
Ellenaaa- Мастер изящного слога
- Сообщения : 5326
Дата регистрации : 2014-09-05
Откуда : Владивосток
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» Впервые/ First time (Китай)
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