#5: The Phoenix Tribe (5)

Yao Yin’s thatched hut was at the edge of the village, conveniently close to Bai Rong’s house for easy care of the patriarch. The furnishings inside were old and worn, with only a bed, a table by the bed, a chair beside the table, and an oil lamp on the table. Though small, the hut was clean. Especially the bedding, which had been thoroughly washed the day she arrived, aired out all day yesterday, and only just changed that morning. The bedding still carried a faint scent of soapberry.

Zi Chen sat on the bed, took off his shoes, removed his outer robes, then lifted the covers and lay down. Yao Yin watched him, feeling that while he had always done this, today... his every move had an indescribable quality. If before he exuded composure and elegance, today it was nobility... Yes, nobility! As if the entire hut was illuminated by his presence.

The sound of Zi Chen’s even breathing reached her ears. Yao Yin sat by the bed, watching him fall into a deep sleep in such a small, humble room, feeling it was quite unreal... A person like him should be a deity living in the highest heavens. A person’s aura is inextricably linked to their background. Before, she thought Zi Chen was just a mortal, and interacting with him felt effortless, even allowing her to be somewhat bossy. But now, once she knew his identity as a Phoenix Tribe descendant, everything changed... She was still that obscure little immortal, while he was now the noblest and most ancient deity in this world. Although both were born with immortal bodies, the distance between them was vast.

Yao Yin dozed off by the bedside not long after. When she woke up, she was already lying in bed. Zi Chen, however, was sitting at the table, writing something with a white jade brush. His eyes were still covered with a white silk band, yet his brush tip never paused.

Outside, the sky had completely darkened. Zi Chen lit the oil lamp, but the candlelight was dim, only illuminating the corner in front of him. On the table were documents piled into small mountains. Yao Yin didn’t know what he was writing, only that Zi Chen’s earnest and serious profile, illuminated by the candlelight, seemed to be gilded with a layer of gold, making him sparkle. For a moment, she was utterly captivated.

Outside the window, insects chirped, and distant noises continuously drifted in, yet in this small haven, there were only the two of them. Yao Yin suddenly felt a very familiar sensation, as if they had spent thousands and thousands of years together like this before.

“Awake?” Zi Chen stopped writing and tilted his head slightly. Yao Yin felt like a discovered peeping Tom, her heart tightened, and she subconsciously clutched the bedding.

“What’s wrong?” Zi Chen pulled out the chair, stood up, walked to Yao Yin’s bedside, and sat down. He gently placed his hand on her forehead and said, “Are you sick? Why are you so warm...”

Yao Yin’s face flushed, feeling even more that such an interaction was strange. She quickly changed the subject, asking, “What’s happening outside? Why is it so noisy?”

“Don’t worry about it; they’ll handle it themselves,” Zi Chen said, then tucked her quilt in and walked to the side to pour her a cup of hot tea. Zi Chen had intended to feed it to her, but Yao Yin insisted on sitting up and drinking it herself. Her eyes were obscured by the steam, secretly glancing at Zi Chen from time to time. Zi Chen’s profile was close by, and the concern on his face was obvious, but she always felt that being cared for by such a high and mighty Phoenix Tribe member was truly a misfortune for her. Especially when she saw the white silk band over his face, thinking that those eyes were now on her, it undoubtedly made her feel on pins and needles, constantly regretting.

Yao Yin scurried out of bed, pushed open the window, and took deep breaths.

That night, the new moon had set in the west; it was already the fifth watch (3-5 AM). A crowd had gathered outside Bai Rong’s room, holding torches, surrounding Bai Rong and Feng Yuan, seeming... to want to burn the house.

“What’s wrong with the patriarch and them? Let’s go see!” Yao Yin closed the window, intending to go outside, but Zi Chen held her wrist, shaking his head faintly and saying, “It’s fine; you don’t need to worry.”

Yao Yin froze, looking at his calm demeanor, and suddenly felt a surge of anger.

Zi Chen was becoming increasingly cold-blooded. It was as if nothing in this world could move him anymore.

“Aren’t you worried?” Yao Yin questioned him angrily. “They are your kin!”

“Kin...” Zi Chen curved his lips, a faint smile. “I have no kin.”

“But he’s clearly your father!” Yao Yin said anxiously.

Zi Chen suddenly looked up at Yao Yin: “Can two phoenixes really be bullied by a bunch of sparrows?”

Yao Yin was rendered speechless by his retort. After much thought, she still vigorously shook off Zi Chen’s hand and said, “Zi Chen, I think you’ve changed.”

“What?” Zi Chen was slightly stunned.

“You’ve become cold-blooded and unfeeling,” Yao Yin stared intently at Zi Chen and said, “We were merely chance acquaintances. Back then, when I was injured, you would abandon yourself to save me. If our positions were reversed, I might not necessarily sacrifice myself to save you. At that time, I thought you must be the kindest and greatest man under heaven. But now, your father is being humiliated in the middle of the night, and you can remain indifferent. Why did you change so much after coming out of the Phoenix Nest?”

“I...”

“You don’t need to explain, just listen to me.” Yao Yin stood in front of him with her hands on her hips, lecturing him from a superior position: “You’ve been in the Phoenix Nest for three days, so you probably don’t know that Patriarch Bai Rong is currently ill. He’s sometimes mad, sometimes willful, and most of the time he has the intelligence of a three-year-old child. Don’t you feel guilty facing such an elder?”

Zi Chen lowered his head upon hearing this, his shoulders trembling uncontrollably.

His face was covered with a white silk band, so Yao Yin couldn’t see his expression, but seeing him lower his head, she took it as a sign that he knew he was wrong.

“You know you were wrong? Don’t be sad, I didn’t really mean to scold you...” Yao Yin’s tone softened, and she patted his shoulder.

Zi Chen gently shook his head, then extended his right hand, took her palm, stood up, and led her out.

As he walked, he said, “You’re right. Regardless of my identity, I should go and see.” A faint smile played on his lips, showing no self-reproach whatsoever, but rather a hint of amusement.

He looked as if he was waiting for a good show to begin.