Chapter Fourteen: The Plump Little Bird

The room was left with only Dao Sansheng; the fat man had returned to his own quarters. Having just begun his cultivation, he needed time to adapt, while Dao Sansheng intended to consolidate his new level.

The little bird swooped in again, irritating Dao Sansheng to no end. How could this bird be so unruly, insisting on pestering him, as if it truly believed this place to be its nest? Perhaps it was because the house itself was so oddly shaped.

"Hey, what are you staring at? I let you off this morning, but if you keep pushing me, I’ll lose my temper," Dao Sansheng grumbled. He glanced around the room; there was no one else. He opened the door to look outside, still finding it empty. Who had spoken just now? Aside from the bird, there was no one else here.

"Why are you glaring at me? Haven’t you seen such a beautiful bird before?" A voice echoed in his mind.

It was clear now—the bird was speaking to him. It could communicate, and Dao Sansheng remembered the eggs on the table. Looking over, he found them all gone.

"You didn’t eat all the eggs, did you?" Dao Sansheng was shocked; this creature had just cut off his source of income.

"They tasted rather good. I’m quite satisfied. In return for your fine gift, I’ll teach you a technique…"

A formula appeared in Dao Sansheng’s mind—a fire control technique, forty-nine words in all.

Dao Sansheng grinned slyly at the bird. "Come here, master. I have something even tastier for you."

The bird, glowing silvery-white, beat its wings and flew before Dao Sansheng. He pretended to reach for something with his right hand, then suddenly snatched the bird with his left. It struggled, but to no avail.

"Do you dare call yourself my master? Tell me where you’re from and be honest, or suffer the consequences."

The bird rolled its eyes, ignoring him.

"Don’t blame me if I pluck your feathers clean and cook you for soup," Dao Sansheng threatened, tugging at its plumage and licking his lips.

"I am a primordial divine beast, from the Ice Phoenix clan, master of ancient ice and flame techniques. If you kill me, you’ll lose out—I can help you."

The bird was surprisingly docile; otherwise, Dao Sansheng really might have made soup out of it.

"You want me to be your master?" Dao Sansheng was direct.

"Impossible. I’d rather die. As a member of the Ice Phoenix clan, that’s absolutely out of the question. You might as well kill me." The bird tilted its head, resigned to its fate.

Seeing this, Dao Sansheng grew anxious and activated his spiritual power. Following the incantation, a white flame appeared at his fingertip, tinged with blue.

The bird, seeing the blue-white flame, recognized it instantly as the same unique fire as its clan’s. Was Dao Sansheng of Ice Phoenix blood? There was no need to resist—serving a clansman was only natural.

"I am willing to follow my master." As it spoke, a halo emerged from the bird and entered Dao Sansheng’s mind. He tried to stop it, but it was already too late.

Dao Sansheng hurriedly entered his mindscape and saw the silhouette of the white bird, finding nothing amiss. Relieved, he withdrew.

"Master, don’t worry. I have just performed our Ice Phoenix clan’s spiritual contract. Now you and I are bound, and we are family."

"Family? You’re bird-born, I’m mother-born. Hardly the same," Dao Sansheng retorted.

The Ice Phoenix looked exasperated; it had only meant it as a figure of speech.

"What’s your name, little white bird?" Dao Sansheng asked.

"I don’t have a name yet, but I plan to choose a good one. When I decide, I’ll let you know," the Ice Phoenix replied.

"I find you fat and noisy, always chirping away, so from now on, you’ll be called Chubby Chirp. That’s decided."

"Chubby Chirp, Chubby Chirp, Chubby Chirp…" Dao Sansheng repeated over a dozen times, but the little creature refused to answer.

Finally, unable to endure, the bird relented and accepted the name Chubby Chirp. In return, it gave Dao Sansheng the nickname Third, explaining that its parents ranked first and second, leaving Dao Sansheng as third. For familiarity, it called him Third. Dao Sansheng tried to explain for ages, but the stubborn bird wouldn’t listen, so he gave up.

The bird called Dao Sansheng, but he ignored it, gathering all his possessions into a hair ring and fastening it to his hair.

Ten days passed in a flash, and the seventh day of July approached. Dao Sansheng hadn’t left his room once. Xue’er had sought him several times, but each visit ended in failure, always met with his cold, expressionless face. The people at the medical hall had even given him the nickname Zombie Face.

He heard knocking once more, but Dao Sansheng paid no mind. Surely it was Xue’er again, urging him to play outside. All he wanted now was to improve his cultivation, so he feigned ignorance.

However, Chubby Chirp loved Xue’er’s embrace. Hearing the knock, it flew over eagerly, waiting for her to open the door.

The door creaked open. "You stingy fellow, when I invite you to play, you refuse. Now there’s a wedding banquet, and you still don’t open up. You don’t want to go?"

Dao Sansheng leapt from his bed. "I’m ready. Let’s go," he said, heading outside, unconcerned that this was someone else’s home and he was merely a guest.

Xue’er hurried to the next room to fetch the fat man, who scrambled to pack his things. Once ready, Xue’er led the two through the garden and corridor to the main gate.

At the gate, several wagons drawn by wild horse beasts stood ready, loaded with cargo—large crates, three wagons in all, each with two attendants.

In front of the wagons were two beast-drawn carriages for passengers. Dao Huichun stood by the roadside, nodded at Dao Sansheng and the fat man, and boarded the lead carriage.

Dao Sansheng hurried after, trying to climb aboard, but someone tugged him back. "You ride in the rear carriage," Xue’er said, tossing him up.

"Xue’er, I want to ride in the back too! I don’t mind the crowd—it’s lively, and they say a squeeze is healthy," the fat man grinned, his mouth nearly twisted to his ear.

Before Xue’er could reply, a girl about ten years old emerged from the medical hall and kicked the fat man. "You go in the front carriage. Only one spot in the back," she said coldly.

The fat man dared not protest, obediently boarding the front beast carriage.

Dao Sansheng landed in the beast carriage with a thud, but instead of pain, he found it surprisingly soft. Opening his eyes, he saw that while the carriage looked small from outside, it was spacious within—a sign of some enchantment.

"This mat is nice, quite springy, and the blanket is even better—far more comfortable than my bed. The medical hall had such fine blankets, but made me sleep on something so hard. Heartless!"

Dao Sansheng rolled about, just like a child—because, after all, he was one.