(2) A Deep and Lasting Devotion — Flesh as Medicine

"The enchantment spell mixes illusion and reality — the cure works the same way," Xiaoyi said flatly, hearing Xing'er's anxious question.

"What does that mean? I don't understand." Xing'er, thoroughly confused, shook her head off to the side.

"The cure calls for sixteen kinds of flowers in full bloom across all four seasons, but the flowers of the four seasons cannot bloom at once — only an illusion can be used to force them into bloom together. The illusion is the false part; the blossoms themselves are the real part. Combining all four flowers of each season into the medicine together — that is the cure."

Before Xing'er could even react, Xiaoyi had already strode out of the room, conjuring a zither in his hands, and leapt up to settle himself on the treetops of the deep forest, beginning to play the "Ode to the Four Seasons" toward the woods below.

Xiaoyi bent over the zither, its music rising in flowing, elegant tones — at times light and cheerful, at times low and melancholy. As the piece unfolded, an east wind blew warm and gentle, willow catkins drifting on the breeze; then came the fullness and lushness of summer, lotus leaves swaying in the wind; then crimson maples spread across the mountains, an autumn wind blowing cold and mournful; then a bitter north wind swept through, plum blossoms set against auspicious snow. Within a single melody, a single key, all four seasons' moods existed at once, carried in every direction on the rustling bamboo waves of the Mist Forest. As the piece ended, the whole mountain and forest burst into a riot of blossoms all at once, their fragrance rich and overpowering, leaving one utterly unsure of where one stood or in what season, dazzled and dizzied, unable to help but marvel at the sight.

Watching from the pavilion, Ziyuan observed Xiaoyi's extraordinary spiritual power and listened to that singular music, the illusion before his eyes perfectly, utterly clear, and could not help but silently admire it — as the saying goes, heroes emerge young, and was this young man before him not exactly such a case? Though merely a thousand-year-old ganoderma spirit, he already carried himself with the bearing of the immortal realm; given more time still, he would surely one day rank among the immortals. Surely it was all for the sake of that girl called Anu that he cultivated with such painstaking devotion and relentless effort? How important, then, must that girl's place be within the Mist Forest?

This seemed to confirm once again the bold conjecture already forming in his own mind — that Anu was indeed the young heir of the Asura Clan.

As Xiaoyi finished his piece, the Mist Forest had already burst into bloom with all four seasons' flowers at once. He raised his hand, summoning the wind, and called out clearly, "Come, flowers." At once blossoms of every color came riding the wind, flying in orderly fashion into his sleeve-realm. Before long, Xiaoyi stilled the wind, closed his sleeve cuff, took up the zither, and with the back of his fingers swept sharply across all the strings at once — with that single stroke and gathering motion, the illusion before them returned entirely to its original state, as though all that lively spectacle had never happened at all.

As Xiaoyi made his way back to Anu's room, a rising murmur of discussion reached Ziyuan's ears. It was the many sprites of the deep forest, who, having just witnessed Xiaoyi's display, had begun to gather close by. On the one hand worried for Anu's condition, and on the other filled with awe and admiration for Xiaoyi's abilities, they spoke here and there in fragments of the past — of how, in years gone by, the old wandering immortal physician had come to the Mist Forest at the invitation of the Asura King and Queen to teach the Fourth Prince and Anu, and had, from among a myriad candidates, chosen the ganoderma spirit alone to be raised up as his disciple.

As it turned out, the old immortal had taken on only Xiaoyi as his disciple within the Mist Forest. Every morning, Hemuda and Anu would join in together for lessons and zither practice, but every afternoon it was Xiaoyi alone who studied magic and medicine, sometimes reviewing even into the evening — and yet Xiaoyi had never once complained of weariness. Hemuda respectfully addressed the old immortal as "Teacher," while Anu simply called him "Grandfather." Whenever Xiaoyi or Hemuda failed at their studies, they would receive a proper caning, while Anu never once had to worry about being punished for anything. Grandfather always indulged her, even going so far as to instruct Xiaoyi to give Anu subtle hints whenever she could not recite her lessons or answer a question. Anu's seat sat right beside Xiaoyi's, and so he was constantly helping her along — a fact that made all the little sprites deeply envious. Xiaoyi was, after all, the only "person" among all the sprites permitted to cross the little stream into the courtyard grounds; all the other sprites were forbidden from crossing the stream without express summons. And so, however anxious they felt for Anu now, none of them dared overstep that line in the slightest, and could only chatter amongst themselves, one voice after another.

Standing in the pavilion, the sprites, too absorbed in their own conversation, paid Ziyuan no attention whatsoever. Though their talk was patched together from scattered fragments, Ziyuan managed to piece together a fair sense of the situation through half-guessing. The truth was already plain to see: this girl Anu, showered with love beyond measure, could receive such treatment only if she were the Asura King's own beloved daughter, and no one else. And what was more, in the sprites' scattered accounts, the Asura Clan's Fourth Prince Hemuda had come up repeatedly, while not a single word had been said of the young heir — yet the Mist Forest had, after all, been established specifically for the young heir's sake. How could he possibly be left out of every account, alone among them all? The conclusion that Anu herself was the young heir was, then, all the more reasonable a deduction. With this thought, and seeing Xiaoyi return to the room, clearly having full confidence in treating Anu's wounds, the knot of worry in his chest seemed to loosen considerably, and reflecting now on everything he had witnessed of Anu today, he found himself rather amused by it all.

"So many sprite companions live in the Mist Forest — no wonder she reacted so strongly against the demon-binding rope." Ziyuan smiled faintly. That girl Anu's temperament really was far too much like the Asura King's own — it would be hard indeed to argue she wasn't the very apple of his eye. And yet, for all her proud and haughty spirit, there was also something inexplicably foolish and endearing about her — that same foolish, endearing quality was practically identical to Hemuda's own, no different in the slightest.

Just as these random thoughts drifted through his mind, the little sprites seemed to begin noticing him.

"Who is he?"

"Probably the one who brought Anu back, right?"

"How else could he have gotten into the Mist Forest?"

"He's really quite handsome too — apart from Xiaoyi, who else could measure up to him even a little? Where does such a distinguished-looking man even come from?"

As the sprites chattered away, sizing him up and passing judgment, Ziyuan found himself somewhat embarrassed, and hastily bowed deeply to the assembled crowd. "This one is Ziyuan, the Celestial Clan's eldest prince. I happened to come across Miss Anu injured, and so brought her back here."

"You... you... can hear us talking?"

Hearing Ziyuan respond directly to what they had just been saying among themselves, the sprites were utterly startled, every one of them thoroughly frightened. They had assumed all along that mortals could not hear their speech; though they had thought Ziyuan handsome and distinguished in appearance, their spiritual power was, after all, far too weak for them to identify his true origins. Not only had Ziyuan responded to them, he had even introduced himself by name — and the Celestial Clan was itself a forbidden topic in the Mist Forest, one no one dared even mention. And now here was Ziyuan, the Celestial Clan's eldest prince himself — whatever were they to do? At once the sprites panicked, feeling they had revealed far too much through their careless chatter, and that a member of the Celestial Clan had heard every word — fearing they had brought about some great disaster, they were on the verge of scattering in every direction like startled birds and beasts.

"You... you just pretend you never heard us talking... the Asura King... will slaughter us... please... please don't tell anyone." A turtle spirit, too slow to keep up with the others, kept muttering this in a panic as it ran, before leaping into the stream beneath the pavilion and vanishing without a trace in an instant.

Ziyuan couldn't help but find the sight of these little sprites fleeing in such disarray rather amusing — the Mist Forest was indeed so lively and full of spirit, no wonder that girl Anu was so charmingly innocent and endearing. All of this was, for Ziyuan, an entirely novel experience. Though the Celestial Realm was hardly lifeless either, as the eldest prince he had been carefully raised by his father since childhood, with the weight of great expectations placed upon him from an early age, and so had grown accustomed from youth to composure and self-restraint, having scarcely known such a carefree, joyful upbringing. Moreover, the Celestial people's speech and conduct were, for the most part, dignified and measured, quite unlike the wild, unrestrained freedom of these little sprites; and there existed, too, no real distinction of rank or status between them and Anu — a proper princess spending her days utterly without distinction, playing and living among these little sprites — Ziyuan truly found all of this quite delightful.

Had it not been for those two arrows Anu had shot that day, he would never have come to the Mist Forest to investigate the truth of the matter; and had he not come to investigate, how would he ever have uncovered such a shocking secret, or discovered such a fascinating girl as Anu? It seemed almost as though fate itself had arranged it all — two clans locked in enmity, and yet two hearts sharing a common wish to put an end to their strife, meeting at just the right moment, opening an unexpected connection between them. To Ziyuan, this connection had truly opened his eyes to an entirely new world: an idyllic paradise, isolated from the rest of existence, nurturing within it such a remarkably unique young girl, a spirited young man of an age not unlike his own, and a band of pure-hearted, delightful little sprites.

This place had, in fact, begun to hold a strange and powerful allure for him.

Meanwhile, Xiaoyi had returned to Anu's room, dismissed his zither, and taken the flowers from his sleeve-realm, washing them clean and arranging them neatly on the table, sorted by season. He then took out the four flowers of each season, placed them in a mortar, and ground them into half a bowl of juice, then brought over a bowl and a small spoon, pouring the flower juice into the bowl and stirring it evenly.

"Quickly, help Anu sit up," Xiaoyi instructed Xing'er.

Hearing this, Xing'er immediately flew to the bedside and sat down, helping Anu up into a sitting position. Since Anu remained unconscious, Xiaoyi dared not administer the medicine in large mouthfuls; he lifted the bowl and sat down at the bedside as well, patiently feeding the flower juice into Anu's mouth one small spoonful at a time. Even though the amount of juice was not great, it still took him the better part of an hour to finish.

But what worried Xiaoyi was that all his efforts had not brought Anu back to consciousness. The medicine had long since been fully administered, and after checking her pulse three separate times, he found no clear improvement at all. Xiaoyi could not help but grow anxious — just what step had he overlooked? He went over his master's teachings from years past again and again in his mind, unable to determine where the error might lie. He remembered everything with perfect clarity — no step had ever been left out or mistaken; he had practiced it countless times before his master back then, and even after more than four hundred years, it all remained vivid before his eyes. This was, after all, the person he had sworn to protect for his entire life, the one held closest to his heart! Back then, the Queen had spoken to him gently: "As a mother, I have no grand wish of my own — only that Anu might return to the royal court someday soon. If Anu is willing, once you have truly become human, bring her home, and her father and I will arrange a grand wedding for the two of you. Through it we can declare to the whole world that the young heir is in fact a daughter, so that there will no longer be any need to fear the Celestial Clan's covetous eyes, and Anu will no longer have to live her life in hiding." From that moment on, he had come to hold Anu dearer than his own self — how, then, could he possibly allow himself even the slightest carelessness? And yet reality now struck cruelly at his heart: the very first time he had treated Anu independently, without his master beside him, he had already failed. He truly was so useless! But he had no time to keep blaming himself — endlessly blaming himself now would do no good at all — and so he could only continue searching through every memory in his mind of how to treat Anu.

At this point Xing'er, too, sensed something was wrong. Why had Anu remained unconscious for so long? What exactly was happening? She looked at Xiaoyi in confusion, noticing too that his face was etched with worry.

"Why hasn't Anu woken up yet?" she asked.

"Let me think... what exactly have I forgotten?" Xiaoyi furrowed his brow, sinking into deep thought.

"Don't you dare scare me! If you can't save Anu, my own little life won't be spared either." Xing'er's face was full of panic.

At this point Xiaoyi himself had no certainty either. He paced back and forth restlessly, gazing at Anu with both anxiety and tenderness — how could he not be desperately worried himself, wishing he could bear her suffering in her place? All he hoped for was to see Anu once more, lively and cheerful before his eyes, just as she had always been.

Even if it meant her playing tricks on him again, so long as Anu could wake up.

Back then, not long after he had first come to the pavilion to study, one particularly heavy day of lessons had left him with a day-brightness pearl from his master to continue studying diligently through the night. Seeing dawn approaching, he had given up returning to his room to rest, choosing instead to nap right there in the pavilion. Who could have known that at first light, Anu would tiptoe her way to the pavilion, transform herself to look exactly like his master, and give a few light coughs to catch his attention.

"Sleeping in even with the sun already up?" Anu had teased him, mimicking his master's voice perfectly. Startled awake in confusion, and with his spiritual power still weak at the time and his mind still hazy with sleep, he had failed to notice the deception and hastily knelt to the floor to confess his fault. This had left Anu positively delighted, laughing smugly. "Good disciple — no more laziness now, back to your practice."

Thoroughly pleased with the success of her prank, Anu had first changed back into her own form, then burst into laughter right in front of him, that sudden radiant smile leaving him blushing and his heart racing, utterly at a loss for what to do. Still flustered and unsure how to respond, Anu had teased him further with a laugh, "Silly Xiaoyi!" before bounding away back toward her room, her two braids bouncing along with her steps, seemingly full of the same joy as well. That crimson-clad figure retreating into the distance had left an impression on his heart so deep he had never been able to forget it to this day.

And so, so long as Anu could wake up, there was nothing he would not be willing to do.

It was only unfortunate that heaven did not grant one's wishes so easily — why, then, had following his master's prescribed method shown no effect at all? His anxiety was, if anything, no less than Xing'er's own — Anu was the one he had held closest to his heart for over four hundred years; how could he possibly not be desperate with worry?

In his somewhat despondent state of mind, Xiaoyi could not help but think of the sound-transmission pearl his master had given him before departing — a pearl that could locate his master's whereabouts as he wandered the world, and through which he might, perhaps, seek his master's help. Though he was extremely reluctant to do so — for on this, his very first time treating Anu independently, having to turn to his master for help would be a great embarrassment to them both, as though openly declaring that his master had misjudged him — and so, short of the most dire necessity, he absolutely could not bring himself to do this.

Just as he thought of the sound-transmission pearl, Xiaoyi suddenly recalled another "treasure" his master had also given him before departing.

"How could I have forgotten it?" A flash of inspiration struck Xiaoyi, and in his moment of despair, he glimpsed a single ray of hope.

"What have you remembered?" Seeing the light return to Xiaoyi's face, Xing'er, too, felt as though she were witnessing the first light of dawn.

"Before he left, my master gave me a brocade pouch, telling me to open it whenever I faced a problem I could not solve." As he spoke, Xiaoyi conjured the pouch into his hand and quickly tore it open. Inside was a single sheet of paper, evidently protected by his master's magic, for even after more than four hundred years it showed not the slightest trace of damage or yellowing, its ink still as fresh as new. It bore only a single striking line of text: "Use a small amount of thousand-year ganoderma as the guiding medicine."