Chapter One Hundred: Sing, Dance, and Rejoice to the Fullest

Hong Jian froze. Back when she had first learned the fifty-character formula, she had thought it no more than a vulgar little set of tricks and had been rather disappointed. Only later had she gradually come to understand how precious it was.

And yet even so, she had never once imagined that what she had learned was the very same art as Ji Youyun’s strange sorcery.

The Great Calamity Scripture.

Suddenly, Hong Jian understood why, two years ago, Ji Youyun had looked twisted with anger when he asked her, “Who did you learn your All Streams Return to the Source from?” and had even said, “I can hardly believe you people fooled me.” At the time, she had racked her brains and still could not work out who this “you people” referred to. Now, looking back, Ji Youyun must have noticed something amiss and mistaken her for someone who had already taken refuge under that elder Ji’s tutelage.

She stayed lost in thought for quite a while, and her hands naturally came to a stop. Ji Youfeng shifted his back and smiled. “What is it? Scared stiff?”

Hong Jian gave a small “mm” and suddenly said, “No, that’s not right.”

Ji Youfeng lifted a hand to brush back the hair hanging over his forehead. Turning his face, he looked at her and asked, “Tell me. What is not right?”

What was not right? There were far too many things. Hong Jian kept scratching his back.

“Elder, you heard me greet you through voice transmission earlier, didn’t you?”

Ji Youfeng smiled and said nothing, taking it as a yes.

That day, when he had suddenly heard a woman’s voice at his ear, he had truly been startled. Later he thought: since fate had brought them together so strangely, he might as well bring her close and see what sort of person she was.

“Then why would Ji Youyun have sent me here?” Ji Youyun clearly already knew that she and his elder brother were old acquaintances, perhaps even sharing a teacher-student bond. So why had he gone along with matters and brought the two of them together in prison?

Ji Youfeng curled his lip. “No one knows him better than I do. I can tell what kind of shit he’s about to take just by the way he lifts his ass. Stop overthinking. Stay put and be at ease. If you need anything, tell me and I’ll get it for you.”

Ji Youfeng did as he said. First he had a screen brought in, dividing the room so Hong Jian had a place to change and relieve herself. Then he had hot water brought, and she actually helped him take a bath, making him wash his face as well. Fresh bedding was brought for the bed, and a table and stools were added to the room.

Ji Youfeng had the jailers running about at his command. Hong Jian had never known one could even find these things in a prison. At last he had the guards bring food as well.

Ji Youfeng patted the empty half of the bed. “Girl, make do and sleep here.”

Hong Jian nodded. “Elder, if you need water in the night or must use the privy, you must be sure to wake me.” Inside a prison cell, there was no real day or night anymore. Once the oil lamp was put out, all time belonged to night.

Ji Youfeng had originally meant to tease her about sharing a bed, but seeing how naturally she had taken on the task of caring for him, he felt a little moved and laughed. “I saw you taking care of your little brother back then. You’re actually quite good at caring for people.”

At the mention of Fang Zheng, Hong Jian let out a wistful sigh. “Yes. Simpletons and lazy people are the blessed ones. It’s only us clever folk who end up working ourselves to the bone.”

Ji Youfeng laughed at that.

Once they were settled, the two of them faced one another all day with nothing to do. They had already more or less exhausted their conversation, so they had to find amusement for themselves.

The first thing that interested Hong Jian was the tune Ji Youfeng had played earlier. In truth, the instrument was extremely crude, nothing more than a short length of bamboo with two holes simply bored into it by Ji Youfeng.

Hong Jian, at any rate, was already at the Foundation Establishment stage and could hold her breath long enough to manage a whole melody, but when the thing was in her hands, all she could coax from it was a “whoo-whoo” of wind. Not a single note came out.

Ji Youfeng watched from the side, amused. “Don’t torture yourself. I don’t think you’ll ever learn it.”

Hong Jian gripped the bamboo segment and stared at him for a long while. Then, all at once, she flashed a bright smile. “Elder. This is so boring. Why don’t we play a game?”

Ji Youfeng asked with interest, “Oh? What sort? Tell me. I’ll play along.”

Under the lamplight, Hong Jian bent down and picked up two stalks of straw from the floor, holding them up for him to see. “Look, Elder. These are two lots. One is long, one is short. I’ll hold the lower ends in my hand, and you draw one. If you draw the long one, you lose and have to accept your punishment.”

Ji Youfeng lifted his eyes to look at her. Her wild hair had already been tidied by Hong Jian and tied neatly behind his head, his beard had been shaved clean, and only those eyes still carried a hint of roguish freedom.

He did not even ask what the punishment would be. “Fine. But why do you say I’ll lose? I insist on drawing the short one and making you, little girl, cry in punishment.” Saying that, he reached out as if to draw.

Hong Jian was sitting sideways on the edge of the bed with one leg dangling. Seeing this, she twisted away and said, “Don’t rush. I’ll switch their positions first. But let’s be clear: you’re not allowed to peek with your divine sense.”

Ji Youfeng laughed and agreed. “Is that really necessary? I’m saving my true energy for more important use. Just don’t go back on your word if you lose.” With that, he drew one of the stalks from her hand.

That ordinary little trick, one already long worn threadbare by common folk in the mortal world, felt strangely fresh to Ji Youfeng.

For one thing, he had been lonely for many, many years, without someone like Hong Jian at his side. For another, for a cultivator, unless one were locked in some hellish place like this Demon Refining Prison, a casual sweep with divine sense would reveal at once whether the lot was long or short. Who would truly bother to draw with their eyes shut?

Hong Jian smiled. “How could I lose? The one who’ll lose is surely the Elder.”

Before her words had even fallen, Ji Youfeng looked at the stalk in his hand. Sure enough, it was the long one.

So Hong Jian punished him by making him play a tune.

Ji Youfeng drew again, and it was still the long one. He had no choice but to play another melody.

He did not believe in such nonsense and drew yet again, studying the long stalk in his hand. How could he have drawn the long one three times in a row, every single time?

He glanced at Hong Jian and saw that her expression was solemn. Her eyes were fixed intently on the stalks in her hand, unblinking, her cheeks flushed red, her lips pressed tight. She plainly wanted to laugh very badly but was holding it in with great effort, clearly suffering.

He smiled and, pretending not to care, accepted his punishment. “This is tedious if it goes on like this. Why not have them bring some wine? Whoever loses drinks a cup.”

He held out his hand, wavering indecisively above the two stalks, as though considering which one to choose.

Hong Jian blinked. “Elder, your luck really is poor. Why don’t you stop after this draw and rest a little? Blowing all those tunes must be tiring.”

At her words, Ji Youfeng shot her a sidelong glance, the corner of his mouth lifting. He reached out and pinched one of the stalks. “Relax your grip. Why are you holding on so tightly?”

Hong Jian loosened her fingers. Who would have thought that Ji Youfeng was so quick? With a sudden whoosh, he snatched both stalks away at once, then held them up and mocked her. “You were still thinking of taking a graceful exit. I knew you were cheating.”

In Ji Youfeng’s hand were two identical long stalks. The short one had already been switched out when Hong Jian had twisted away earlier.

Ji Youfeng shook the two stalks. “Girl, I caught you cheating red-handed. What more is there to say? Accept your punishment.”

Hong Jian could not help bursting into laughter. “To make Elder lose three times in a row, it was worth it. Fine, I’ll accept the punishment. Tell me—what do you want me to do?”

Ji Youfeng thought for a moment. “Sing me a little song.”

Hong Jian immediately fell miserably silent. She had been sent to Azure Cliff Sect at the age of nine, and from then on it had been nothing but cultivation, cultivation, and more cultivation. When would she ever have had the chance to listen to little songs?

After some thought, she pleaded, “Elder, why don’t I just take a cup of wine instead?”

Ji Youfeng tapped the two long stalks lightly against his palm and pointed at her. “Your gambling character is the problem here. This must be punished severely. Drink the wine too. I’ll play, and you dance for me to see. Don’t tell me again that you can’t. If you can’t sing and can’t dance, what kind of water cultivator are you?”

Hong Jian leapt to her feet and cried, “Fine, dance it is! If I can’t dance well, can’t I still dance badly? Just wait. Don’t blame me if you can’t stand watching and throw up.”

Before long, the guards of the Demon Refining Prison received another message: Ji Youfeng wanted wine.

Every time Ji Youfeng, the notorious troublemaker of Black Tortoise Prison, was mentioned, the guards assigned to him always felt complicated. Born to privilege as a favored son of heaven, he had fallen to this state. These years of losing his feet had sapped his spirit, and it seemed his broken body was on the verge of being worn down by him entirely. And yet, in all the years he had been here, all his demands put together still did not equal what he had asked for in a single day today.

Wine would do Ji Youfeng’s body more harm than good in its present condition, so the guard dared not agree at will and reported to Ren Chen instead. Ren Chen sneered. “Give it to him.”

When the guard came in with the wine, the cell was brightly lit. Ji Youfeng was sitting on the bed, playing a lively folk tune.

That cripple, holding the crude bamboo flute in one hand, had the other hand casually tapping the stone wall with pattering beats. His upper body swayed and twisted in time, and the dark iron chain piercing through his shoulders rattled and clanged as he moved. By sheer force of one person alone, he had turned the tune into something bustling and full of life.

But what startled the guard even more was Hong Jian. Long water sleeves hung from both of her arms, and the coarse gray fabric, dull and drab, had clearly been torn from the hem of the gray robe she wore.

At that moment, she was dancing to the rhythm.

Hong Jian’s dance was entirely impromptu, and every gesture and movement was so comically awkward that it was impossible not to laugh.

Ji Youfeng did not laugh. He looked utterly at ease, his expression relieved from within, vastly more comfortable than before. Compared with his former gloom, he seemed suddenly decades younger.

The rhythm of the tune grew faster and faster. Suddenly Hong Jian spun in place. She was not skilled at dancing, but that turn on the spot immediately displayed the advantages of a water cultivator at Foundation Establishment. As the melody quickened, she spun faster and faster, her wide sleeves and the hem of her long robe rippling in layers. It was truly flowing like clouds and water, light as a butterfly in flight, dazzling enough to make one’s eyes blur.

After dancing for quite some time, a faint sheen of sweat appeared on Hong Jian’s face. Her skin, long deprived of sunlight and overly pale, was tinged with a blush of pink. Smiling, eyes bright as glass, she turned and turned lightly, then suddenly laughed in a clear, ringing peal. She seemed to glow all over, so lovely to look at that it made one feel almost dizzy.

The guard could not help staring blankly. These two had fallen to such a state, and yet they could still be so cheerfully delighted with themselves!

No one paid him any mind. He set down the wine and withdrew, locking the door as he went, looking back three times with every step and muttering to himself, “They’ve both gone mad!”