The Birds Keep Ringing Chapter 9
byChapter 9 Beauty is the Root of Disaster This isn’t betrayal of the sect at all, this is called choosing a good…
Yun Zhen’s small, black-bean eyes widened as he peered out.
This wasn’t a residence; it was clearly a city.
Pavilions and towers stretched endlessly, rock gardens and ponds were scattered like stars. He roughly estimated that the pearls hanging along this seemingly endless corridor alone were enough to sustain the entire Flowing Cloud Sect for a hundred years of feasting and merrymaking—the kind with meat at every meal and nightly revelry.
The Lu Family’s display didn’t resemble a martial arts family at all; it looked more like that of a regional prince.
Since ancient times, knights used martial arts to violate prohibitions, and the imperial court was most wary of martial artists growing too powerful. Building such a magnificent estate, weren’t they afraid that the Emperor might have a sleepless night, decide their feng shui was too good and held dragon energy, and send troops to raid their home?
Furthermore, martial artists valued coming and going like the wind. In storybooks, when a great hero caused trouble, he could grab his sword, stuff two steamed buns in his pocket, mount his horse, and flee. With such a massive setup, how would the Lu Family run if something went wrong?
Yun Zhen suddenly recalled Master’s deliberately profound words: “The true martial world is not found in the clash of swords, but in human relationships and social maneuvering.”
He hadn’t understood it then, but now he seemed to grasp a little.
Yun Zhen felt that something was off, but he couldn’t articulate it. He could only tilt his bird head and think hard. He just felt that the martial world was completely different from the one in the storybooks. The storybooks were lying.
Jiang Zhi seemed to sense the strangeness of the ball of fluff on his shoulder and glanced down at him.
Yun Zhen immediately pretended nothing was amiss and began preening the fluffiest feathers on his chest with his beak.
They followed the steward through several long corridors,绕 around a garden filled with exotic flowers and rare herbs, and stopped before a courtyard.
The most striking feature was the massive phoenix tree in the center of the courtyard. Its canopy blocked out the sun, and its trunk was so thick it would take three or four people to embrace it.
Legend had it that the phoenix tree could attract the phoenix.
Yun Zhen thought, with the Lu Family’s grandeur, forget a phoenix—even if a dragon came, it would probably have to coil up here obediently.
“Young Master Jiang, the Eldest Young Master is just ahead. Please.” The steward stood still, not venturing further inside. He even took a step back, as if stepping inside would violate some taboo.
Jiang Zhi walked straight in, crossed the courtyard, and entered a spacious hall.
A man stood inside, his back to them. Dressed in white, his hair was loosely tied with a jade hairpin. He was currently teasing a snow-white eagle. The eagle was exceptionally beautiful, with feathers like snow and amber eyes. It stood docilely on the man’s arm, allowing him to stroke it.
Hearing footsteps, the man turned around and smiled at them.
Yun Zhen was stunned.
It wasn’t just that the man’s features were outstanding—though he was indeed very handsome—it was mainly the ethereal aura he exuded. It wasn’t the air of a rambling charlatan like his Master, nor was it the freezing coldness of Jiang Zhi. It was a gentle, jade-like temperament that made one feel as if bathed in a spring breeze.
Yun Zhen tilted his head, scrutinizing him, and noticed that Lu Feng and Jiang Zhi shared a slight similarity in their brows and eyes, yet upon closer inspection, they were completely different.
If Jiang Zhi was a piece of ten-thousand-year-old profound ice, causing anyone who saw him to keep their distance for fear of frostbite, then Lu Feng was a piece of fine warm jade—gentle and comforting, making people instinctively want to approach him.
One was a refined gentleman, the other a deadpan face. The contrast was too stark. They were both human, so why was the difference so huge?
“Brother Jiang.” Lu Feng walked over, his voice also pleasant, like a stream flowing over pebbles, carrying just the right amount of warmth. “I am Lu Feng. Please forgive me for not coming out to meet you.”
Jiang Zhi nodded slightly in return, not even bothering to utter an “Mhm.”
The atmosphere became awkward for a moment.
Lu Feng didn’t seem to mind. “Brother Jiang must be tired from the journey. Would you care for some tea and refreshments first?”
“No need.”
Yun Zhen sighed internally. Couldn’t this deadpan man be less direct? The host was being polite; would it kill him to exchange a few pleasantries?
Lu Feng’s gaze fell upon Yun Zhen, and his eyes lit up. “This must be the spiritual bird, I presume?”
Lu Feng carried a very pleasant scent, not vulgar perfume, but a mixture of grass, wood, and a hint of medicinal fragrance.
Yun Zhen sniffed hard, unable to resist sticking his head out.
Then, he made a decision that went against his ancestors… no, against his sect.
He fluttered his wings and landed on Lu Feng’s shoulder.
Lu Feng was clearly surprised, and his smile deepened. “What a spiritual little fellow.”
Yun Zhen: “Chirp~”
This was the treatment a divine beast deserved.
Lu Feng’s shoulder was soft and warm, much more comfortable than Jiang Zhi’s hard, stiff one. Yun Zhen rubbed his fluffy little head affectionately against the fur collar around Lu Feng’s neck.
This wasn’t betrayal of the sect at all; this was called a good bird choosing a good tree to perch on.
Yun Zhen glanced at Jiang Zhi out of the corner of his eye. The temperature around him seemed to have dropped a few more degrees. The pot of brightly blooming orchids nearby visibly wilted, their leaves starting to droop.
Yun Zhen thought, is Jiang Zhi angry? Surely not? He just switched shoulders for a little while; it’s not like he was actually running away.
“Brother Jiang, why don’t we sit in the back garden?” Lu Feng smiled. “There are some interesting things there I’d like to show you.”
Lu Feng walked toward the back garden with Yun Zhen, and Jiang Zhi followed without a word.
Perched on Lu Feng’s shoulder, Yun Zhen smugly glanced back, wanting to see if Jiang Zhi was truly angry. But the man completely ignored him, so he turned his head away, huffing.
Hmph! Don’t look if you don’t want to. This divine beast couldn’t be bothered with you anyway.
If the front courtyard looked merely like the home of a wealthy family, the back garden was practically a zoo.
In the inner courtyard, there was a specially dug large pond with water so clear you could see the bottom, where several large golden carp swam. Next to it was a rock garden with a small waterfall built on it. Water cascaded down, and Yun Zhen had no idea where the water source came from. It was sheer extravagance.
The place was full of so-called Spiritual Beasts—flying, crawling, and swimming—all accounted for. Every one of them had glossy fur and looked energetic.
Looking at these animals, Yun Zhen suddenly recalled the injured, disabled beasts his Senior Sister cared for in the back mountain cave. They were all animals, so why were the ones here so spirited, while theirs were just blind wolves and pigs with broken legs?
“I’ve collected these over the years,” Lu Feng said. “I’ve loved these Spiritual Creatures since I was young. Although I know it’s not right to keep them confined here, I truly can’t bear to let them go, so I try my best to treat them well.”
He walked up to a cage. The cage was exquisite, even the food bowl was made of white jade. Inside was a small crimson fox.
“I acquired this fox three years ago on Kunlun Mountain.” Lu Feng’s tone was full of pity. “It was trapped by a hunter’s snare, barely clinging to life, and I rescued it and brought it back. It’s a shame that after three years, it still isn’t very affectionate toward people.”
Yun Zhen looked at the fox. The fox looked back at him with fierce eyes, baring its teeth. It didn’t look like it was barely clinging to life at all; it looked ready to rush out and bite someone at any moment.
“This little fellow, however, is very affectionate,” Lu Feng turned his head and said to Yun Zhen on his shoulder. “If you like it here, how about staying with me?”
Yun Zhen nodded vigorously. Only a fool would refuse. Jiang Zhi didn’t pay much attention to him anyway, so staying here sounded great.
Lu Feng smiled at him, then turned to Jiang Zhi, his tone sincere. “Brother Jiang, I genuinely like this bird, and it seems to like me too. All the Spiritual Beasts in my garden can be its companions. If you are willing to sell it to me, Lu will reward you handsomely.”
He added, “Three meals a day, fed with Celestial Mountain Snow Lotus mixed with jade dew.”
Yun Zhen: “Chirp!” (Deal!)
He could already imagine his wonderful life: eating snow lotus, riding a fox, and bullying those long-haired cats. Maybe in a few years, he could even become the boss of this garden, leading a gang of little brothers to run rampant and peck whoever he wanted.
“No sale.”
The two icy words shattered Yun Zhen’s beautiful dream.
Lu Feng still smiled. “Everything has a price. Although this bird is spiritual, it is ultimately just a pet, kept for amusement. Why be so insistent?”
He reached out, seemingly intending to stroke the softest patch of feathers on Yun Zhen’s chest.
What did he mean by that? Kept for amusement?
Yun Zhen instinctively shrank his neck, trying to dodge.
Just as Lu Feng’s fingertip was about to touch Yun Zhen’s chest feathers, a sharp gust of wind struck.
Fuzhou unsheathed, its cold light fierce.
Lu Feng reacted incredibly fast. The hand he had extended retracted like lightning, and his other hand reached for his waist, drawing his long sword and holding it horizontally in front of him, barely blocking Jiang Zhi’s lightning-fast strike.
“Clang!”
The two swords clashed, sparks flying. Both sides were clearly using their full strength.
Lu Feng took half a step back, the smile on his face fading. “Brother Jiang, what is the meaning of this?”
Yun Zhen had long been startled into flight, fluttering his wings in the air, hovering between the two men.
Lu Feng slowly said, “I merely wanted to stroke the bird. Why the anger, Brother Jiang?”
Jiang Zhi didn’t waste words with him, applying force and slashing his sword downward diagonally.
Lu Feng’s pupils contracted, and he dodged sideways.
Yun Zhen only saw a blur before his eyes; the two had already begun fighting.
He wanted to fly higher to avoid being collateral damage, but with all his bulk, he couldn’t sustain high altitude for long. Then a fierce gust of wind hit him. He desperately flapped his wings to avoid landing face-first, landing clumsily on a Taihu stone.
Yun Zhen had seen Jiang Zhi’s swordsmanship before. Every move was lethal, every strike aimed directly at a vital point, with no wasted motion. The sole purpose was to kill the opponent.
Lu Feng was a completely different style. His swordplay looked flashy, the moves gorgeous, the sword light like an illusion, but every strike was heavy and powerful, faintly carrying the sound of wind and thunder. Moreover, his defense was watertight, and his offense was incredibly fierce.
For a moment, sword energy crisscrossed the garden, filled with murderous intent.
The rare birds and exotic beasts were terrified, scattering and disappearing, leaving only the crimson fox in the cage, still glaring fiercely outward.
Yun Zhen watched the scene before him in disbelief.
Two future martial arts masters, the current young elites of the martial world, were fighting in the Lu Family’s back garden—all for a bird.
He had only seen such a plot in storybooks: two heroic men fighting fiercely over a peerless beauty who could topple kingdoms, turning against each other. At best, both were injured; at worst, it triggered a martial arts catastrophe, causing widespread suffering.
Yun Zhen looked down at his own round belly and two short legs. If this got out, he wouldn’t care—he was just a bird. But where would these two men put their faces?
He even started worrying that if Jiang Zhi accidentally killed Lu Feng, the Lu Family certainly wouldn’t let it go. At that point, his Master, that old miser, would one hundred percent package him up and send him to the Lu Family as an apology.
What if Lu Feng killed Jiang Zhi…
No! Jiang Zhi couldn’t die.
After he turned back into a human, he still planned to take revenge on Jiang Zhi properly. If Jiang Zhi died, who would he seek vengeance from?
He wasn’t unfamiliar with Jiang Zhi fighting people, but most of the time, it was his Second Senior Brother unilaterally bullying others, usually resolving the fight within three moves.
This back-and-forth situation was the first he had ever seen. Yun Zhen was so anxious he was nearly crying. He spread his wings, mustered his courage, and flew toward the space between the two men. He had to stop them!
He strained his throat and let out the loudest cry of his life.
“Chirp—!!!” (Stop fighting! Stop fighting, both of you!)
He had only flown halfway when he felt a sharp sword energy assault him.
Yun Zhen’s vision went black, and he only managed to let out a miserable shriek.
…
When he opened his eyes, he found himself safely nestled in Jiang Zhi’s hand, completely unharmed.
Lu Feng stood with his sword sheathed. His white clothes were slightly dusty, but he remained graceful, though his eyes were much deeper. “Brother Jiang’s swordsmanship is impressive. I am humbled.”
Jiang Zhi stared coldly at him, his hand still tightly gripping his sword, his eyes holding a chill Yun Zhen had never seen before.
“It seems Brother Jiang truly values this bird,” Lu Feng said. “In that case, I won’t insist.”
He paused. “I will, however, offer a word of advice to Brother Jiang: In this world, the deeper some things are hidden, the easier they are to discover. People are the same.”
After speaking, he smiled at Yun Zhen. “Little fellow, until we meet again.”
Jiang Zhi said nothing, turning and walking away. Yun Zhen poked his head out from between Jiang Zhi’s fingers, watching Lu Feng’s retreating figure, then looking at Jiang Zhi’s stern profile, not daring to breathe.
He was tucked back into Jiang Zhi’s inner robe, and suddenly felt a dampness. At first, he thought it was sweat, but upon closer sniff, it was a strong smell of blood.
Yun Zhen curiously poked his head out, wanting to see what was happening. He saw a thin, long cut on Jiang Zhi’s arm, and blood was seeping out, staining his black sleeve.
It was just now…
Yun Zhen remembered. It was Lu Feng’s strike. When he had flown between the two, Jiang Zhi had used his arm to block the blow just to catch him.
Yun Zhen’s mind buzzed. An indescribable emotion surged up. His chest felt sour and swollen, something was blocking his throat, making it hard to breathe.
He had never felt this way before. Why would Jiang Zhi actually get hurt to protect him? Didn’t he hate him?
Yun Zhen couldn’t understand.
He looked at the cut that was still bleeding, feeling that it must hurt terribly. So, he crawled out of the inner robe, landed on Jiang Zhi’s arm, lowered his head, and gently rubbed the edge of the wound with his fluffy, soft head.
He didn’t dare touch the wound itself, only using his feathers to lightly wipe away the seeping blood.
Jiang Zhi’s steps halted. He looked down at the ball of fluff on his arm attempting to stop the bleeding with feathers.
Yun Zhen froze too.
What was he doing? This was so stupid; bird feathers couldn’t stop bleeding.
“Chirp…” Yun Zhen called out awkwardly, trying to fly away.
Jiang Zhi, however, raised his hand and pressed it onto Yun Zhen’s head.
Yun Zhen stopped moving.
He lay on the exposed skin, feeling the warmth of the other person’s skin through a layer of blood. It seemed hotter than usual.
“Don’t run around,” Jiang Zhi suddenly told him. “It’s dangerous here.”