(3) A Deep and Lasting Devotion — Foolish Xiaoyi

Xiaoyi's heart shook — why would his master be unwilling to tell him this to his face? Could it be he had feared this would trouble him? Had he been chosen as a disciple, from the very start, specifically tailored for Anu's sake — someone selected precisely because he would, when necessary, give everything without hesitation for her sake, sacrificing his very life without regret?

But his master had clearly worried unnecessarily. To save Anu, even if it required a whole thousand-year ganoderma plant as medicine, he would not hesitate for even a moment — let alone when only a "small amount" was needed as the guiding medicine. He himself had, after all, come into being for the sole purpose of protecting Anu; a matter as small as this counted for nothing at all.

Xing'er, curious, leaned in as well to examine the ingenious solution in the brocade pouch. Though she had missed out on the old immortal's teachings and knew few characters, she could still recognize those few words well enough, and gave a start of surprise — did "thousand-year ganoderma" not refer to Xiaoyi himself?

"Your master really is a ruthless man!" Xing'er could not imagine a master who would demand his own disciple carve his own flesh for medicine.

By this point Xiaoyi had no mind left to spare for Xing'er at all; having found this ingenious solution, it was as though divine aid had arrived. He moved toward the table as though flying, once more grinding the four-season flowers into half a bowl of juice, then rolled up his left sleeve and conjured a dagger in his right hand.

"You... you really mean to cut your own flesh?" Though Xing'er, too, worried for Anu, seeing Xiaoyi about to carve his own flesh without so much as a moment's hesitation left even her, timid as she always was, thoroughly terrified.

But Xiaoyi paid Xing'er no attention at all; at that moment his mind held only Anu's safety, and if even a small piece of his own flesh could help Anu escape danger and wake from her stupor, why would he hesitate at all? No sooner said than done — the dagger swept swiftly across his left arm, cutting a chunk of flesh clean away. The agonizing pain made Xiaoyi grit his teeth and brace himself against the table, cold sweat instantly beading across his forehead.

"Xiaoyi!" Xing'er cried out in alarm. By now the table was stained red with blood, and blood flowed from Xiaoyi's left arm like a stream; seeing the pain so plainly visible on his face, even as terrified as she was, she still forced herself to run over and see to him.

Xiaoyi braced himself against the table, head bowed, drawing several deep breaths, and only after a long while did the searing pain begin to ease at last.

"Shouldn't you stop the bleeding first? Otherwise you'll bleed dry before Anu even wakes up," Xing'er said.

"It's not that dramatic." Xiaoyi clearly did not appreciate the sentiment, insisting instead on first reducing the cut flesh into powder with his magic and mixing it into the bowl, stirring it evenly with the flower juice.

"You really should stop the bleeding first! I'll take over feeding her the medicine." Xing'er tried once more to persuade Xiaoyi, finding him particularly stubborn — that he, a physician himself, would refuse to properly stop his own bleeding. His spellcasting and movements were visibly slowed by the searing pain of his left hand's wound, and yet he refused in the slightest to stop what he was doing.

"There's no need," Xiaoyi replied coldly.

"You—" Xing'er, in trying to persuade him, found herself genuinely growing angry. She could understand a young man's pride and stubbornness, but this went beyond reason entirely — even as a physician himself, he need not necessarily feed the medicine with his own hands, and even more so, with his own hand still bleeding from the wound, why would he still ignore it entirely, insisting on doing everything himself without any help from another? Though she did not know Xiaoyi well, nor understand his temperament — whether his stubbornness was simply innate, or had grown stubborn because of Anu — she had no clear idea at all. Back then, Xiaoyi and Anu had, after all, spent nearly twenty years together day and night; surely the bond between them must be extraordinary. Though she had never once heard Anu mention anything of it, and the Queen, before leaving the Mist Forest, had given only the briefest of instructions, she had known very little of Xiaoyi — and yet today had truly opened her eyes.

His stubbornness truly went beyond all common sense, utterly baffling — unless...

A thought flashed through her mind, and Xing'er seemed to understand something. Among all the sprites of the Mist Forest, who did not adore Anu? All the more so Xiaoyi, specially chosen to remain by her side at all times. Though she did not fully understand what that special selection truly meant, she understood perfectly well how natural it would be for Xiaoyi, so closely bound to Anu day and night, to have developed genuine feelings of devotion for her. Anu could well be called the most beautiful woman across the Three Realms — what man could ever lay eyes on her and remain unmoved? This was, after all, precisely why the Asura King had hidden her away in the Mist Forest. Xiaoyi, naturally, could hardly be an exception; he was, after all, a man himself — it would be far stranger, having spent nearly twenty years by her side, for him not to have developed feelings of devotion for Anu.

His unhesitating willingness to carve his own flesh for medicine, his response of placing Anu's treatment above all else regardless of his own wound, the tender, lingering affection so plainly overflowing from his eyes while feeding her the medicine — all of it confirmed the very suspicion now taking shape in her mind. Xiaoyi was not treating Anu simply in his capacity as a physician!

"If you don't stop the bleeding soon, imagine how upset Anu will be when she wakes up and sees this?" Having grasped Xiaoyi's true feelings for Anu, Xing'er immediately shifted her approach to persuade him. "We need to clean up the bloodstains quickly, so Anu won't see them."

Xiaoyi's deep devotion to Anu truly was extraordinary, and Xing'er's realization had not come too late after all — these words struck straight at Xiaoyi's heart, and finally had their effect. He stopped what his right hand was doing and cast a spell to stop the bleeding from his own left arm's wound.

"So it really is true... this Xiaoyi..." Seeing the shift in Xiaoyi's manner, Xing'er now understood it clearly in her heart. She suddenly found herself filled with admiration for the wisdom of the old immortal and the Queen — only a thousand-year ganoderma spirit so deeply devoted to Anu could possibly guard her with his very life, for he himself was her guiding medicine. Even with the old immortal, the Queen, and the Fourth Prince all absent from the Mist Forest, and more than four hundred years having passed, he had still never once wavered from his original devotion, holding steadfast to his duty of protection — was this not exactly the outcome they had originally hoped for?

Xing'er's heart was deeply moved. Xiaoyi, having stopped the bleeding from his wound, was just about to begin cleaning up the bloodstains on the table.

"I'll do it." Xing'er stepped over to help clean up; though her spiritual power was weak, cleaning up bloodstains was a small enough task that she was still perfectly capable of it.

"You hurry and prepare the medicine!" Xing'er said as she cast a spell to make the bloodstains on the table vanish.

Once Xiaoyi had finished mixing the medicine, Xing'er, sensitive to the moment, no longer competed with him for the task of feeding it to Anu, and tactfully stepped forward instead to help Anu sit up, leaning against her own body.

Looking closely, she noticed Xiaoyi's left hand, holding the bowl of medicine, trembling faintly. He bore the pain with all his strength, yet still fed her the medicine with such careful, patient, small mouthfuls, the tenderness in his eyes already brimming over — even an outsider with nothing to do with the two of them could see it plainly.

As Anu drank down most of the medicine, her complexion began to shift from pale to a faint flush of color. Seeing this, Xiaoyi finally felt some measure of comfort, and the deep furrow of his brow began to ease slightly. His left hand, holding the bowl, had already gone numb with pain, and yet he could not bear to set it down. Seeing that the medicine was clearly taking effect, he needed to devote himself all the more diligently to feeding it to her.

He was, after all, that same foolish Xiaoyi — there was simply no helping it.

Even his own master had called him foolish. Told to comfort Anu, who had cried herself into swollen eyes for an entire afternoon, he had ended up crying right along with her instead.

That day, his master had told Anu that he would soon be leaving the Mist Forest, and that Xiaoyi, too, would return to the deep forest to continue his secluded cultivation for another five hundred years — and at this, Anu had burst into tears. By then the Fourth Prince had already long returned to the royal court, and hearing that both her master and Xiaoyi would be leaving her, with only the Queen left in the Mist Forest, Anu simply could not accept it, sitting on the grass, her tears pouring like a waterfall from afternoon straight into evening without once letting up.

"Everyone's leaving, and I'll be the only one left. Mother said she too would have to go home sooner or later — why is it that I'm the only one who can't go home?" Anu had cried without any way to compose herself, crying until his own heart broke, and yet he could find no words of comfort, for everything Anu had said was, after all, entirely true. Even if the Queen were willing to marry Anu to him, he still had a long, arduous road of five hundred years of cultivation ahead of him before achieving human form; a five hundred year separation was as good as set in stone — after all, whose fault was it that his spiritual power was so weak, that he had not yet truly cultivated into human form? Just thinking of the coming five hundred years apart from Anu was enough to make even him feel as though he could not bear to go on living — what standing, then, did he have to comfort anyone else? And so he could only weep alongside Anu, crying straight through until nighttime, when he finally worked up the courage to ask her: "After five hundred years, will it be alright if Xiaoyi comes to take Anu home?" This was the only thing he had been able to force out of his mouth.

"You're not lying? How would you bring me home? Do you truly have a way?" Anu had looked at him through tear-filled eyes, firing off three questions at him in a row.

"Mm!" But his courage seemed to fail him then — the final answer he ultimately never managed to say aloud. He lacked the confidence to ask Anu to agree to marry a ganoderma spirit of such low status and such feeble spiritual power as himself, fearing that the moment Anu uttered a single "I don't want to," his beautiful dream would be shattered outright — better, then, to leave a lingering hope for them both, so that at least these five hundred years might still have something to look forward to.

"I'll tell you when the time comes," he had said.

Though she had no idea what he was really scheming, this promise of five hundred years seemed to have some soothing effect on Anu nonetheless, and gradually her tears began to still, her sobs winding down at last. His heart ached terribly for her; he stroked Anu's head, then pulled her into his arms.

"You mustn't lie to me — after five hundred years, you must come and take me home."

"I will," he had said. Even though Anu did not know this meant marrying him, her expectation had nonetheless given him great encouragement. At the very least, over these five hundred years, he would have to keep refining and improving himself, cultivating diligently, so as to become worthy of Anu at last.

Perhaps she had simply cried too long and grown too exhausted, for after being soothed by his promise of five hundred years, Anu had fallen peacefully asleep in his arms. He had carried her back toward her room. The night wind stirred his heart into ripples — how he had wished he could simply carry Anu like this all the way back to the Asura royal court, declaring to the whole world that she was the girl he hoped to spend his entire life with, without any five-hundred-year separation of love, without any humbling knot of insecurity tormenting him. But all of this was utterly impossible; he did not even have the luxury of an awkward dilemma between advancing and retreating — there was only retreat, and no advance at all.

Gently and carefully, he had laid Anu down upon the bed, tucking the blanket in around her, and seeing her sleeping soundly, had quietly bent down and pressed a kiss to her forehead — and his tears, too, had spilled forth once more, uncontrollably. He had fled the room in a disheveled state, his tears already blurring his vision; Anu was just like the moon in the sky, visible yet forever beyond reach. For over a decade he had guarded his love with the utmost care, never once daring to reveal his true feelings to Anu — what agony this had been, beyond words.

Over four hundred years ago, he had once fled this very place in disgraceful haste; now, in this very place, he had at last waited for Anu's awakening.

"Xiaoyi?" Anu, waking up, was startled to see Xiaoyi keeping watch at her bedside. "Why are you here? Hasn't it not even been five hundred years yet?"

Seeing Anu awake, Xiaoyi's face immediately broke into a smile. As Anu tried to sit up, he moved at once to help support her.

"You were injured this badly — how could I not come?"

Just as Xiaoyi spoke, Anu's hand, gripping his own with force, pulled at the wound on his left arm, making him wince involuntarily.

"What happened to your hand?" Sensing something was wrong, Anu first grabbed hold of Xiaoyi to prevent him from getting away, then tried to roll up his sleeve to see for herself.

"It's nothing, don't worry yourself over it." Xiaoyi, not wanting Anu to see the wound, tried to pull away and escape, but this struggle only made the wound hurt all the more, cold sweat that had barely dried breaking out across his forehead once again.

"Xiaoyi, what exactly is wrong with you?" Seeing Xiaoyi's obvious pain, Anu grew deeply uneasy — Xiaoyi had gone to the trouble of forcibly taking human form specifically to treat her; the wound on his hand had to be connected to her own treatment.

"And you're asking! It was to treat you — cutting his own flesh to use as medicine. If you're not more careful from now on, sooner or later Xiaoyi will be worn away to nothing because of you!" Xing'er seized the chance to lecture Anu — that impulsive, fiery temperament of hers was truly enough to worry anyone — but she had never expected this remark to earn her a savage glare from Xiaoyi.

"Xiaoyi... you..." Anu did not know what to say, her heart filled with overwhelming guilt, tears the size of beans welling up in her eyes and rolling down her face in a rush.

"Don't listen to what she says, I really am fine." Seeing Anu's tears, Xiaoyi grew flustered as well. "Anu, don't cry!"

"I won't pull at you — just roll up your own sleeve and let me see!" Anu commanded Xiaoyi even as she wept.

"Don't look..."

"I will look! Roll up your sleeve, quickly!"

Anu's words had always been something Xiaoyi upheld as an unshakable law in his heart, not out of fear of her fierce temper, but because she weighed so heavily in his heart that he wished only to follow her wishes, never to defy her. Now that Anu had spoken so firmly, he could only obediently roll up his sleeve, revealing the still-raw, bloodied wound beneath — and seeing it only made Anu cry all the harder.

"I told you not to look, and still you wouldn't listen!" Xiaoyi was utterly at a loss for what to do, for heaven knew nothing frightened him more than seeing Anu cry. He pulled Anu into his arms, trying his best to comfort her. "I really am fine, Anu, please don't cry."

"Clearly something's wrong and you keep saying it's nothing — you always lie to me, you always do this..."

"I'm not..." Anu, growing agitated, often began speaking in ways impossible to reason with, leaving one utterly at a loss; Xiaoyi struggled desperately to make clear that his feelings toward Anu had always been genuine and true, that he had never once deceived her, and yet he had no idea how to even begin explaining himself. Just as he stood there, uncertain how to explain, Anu had already lifted his sleeve and was gently blowing on his wound.