After Death, I Became My Shijie’s Palm-Sized Birdie – Chapter 24

Resurrection

She Was Put Into a Birdcage by Wenshen Sect Disciples

As the saying goes, after death one feels nothing at all—and for Wen Qiwu, whose soul had dissipated after she died, that saying was rather apt.

            

She thought she would be completely senseless after sinking into darkness, but strangely, every time she lost consciousness, she could still sense the flame that clung to her awareness. At first Wen Qiwu felt the searing pain of her soul being roasted, but gradually the pain faded, replaced by an indescribable warmth and sense of safety.

She did not know how much time had passed. She could only feel that pure white flame silently keeping her company.

Day after day, year after year, Wen Qiwu’s soul gradually solidified. She received an unfamiliar inheritance memory in her dreams, but unfortunately she was too drowsy, so she never had the energy to examine it closely.

            

It was only after a very long time that Wen Qiwu opened her eyes in a narrow, sealed, dark environment. She shifted a little and felt something strange about her body.

Crack!

Deep within the Endless Tree Sea stood a legendary parasol tree, and the white spirit egg upon it split open a crack. As the little one inside kept struggling, the sturdy shell finally broke apart.

            

Out tumbled a round, plump little bird. She was snow-white all over, with only a streak of green at her tail.

She looked rather silly, not even noticing that a piece of eggshell still sat on top of her head.

Where was this? Her hands…had turned into wings? No, she herself had now turned into a bird?

            

Wen Qiwu had not yet adapted to her new body. She took one step and tripped over the eggshell at her feet.

Plop! The little white puffball tumbled from the tree.

Chirp…

            

In her panic, the white puffball let out a short cry—and who could have expected that this single sound would bring the depths of Wansen Domain to “life.”

Countless birds came fluttering over on wingbeats, crowding around to shield Wen Qiwu. She sensed their worry and alarm from the emotions they projected—though being squeezed in the middle of all those fluffy creatures made the concern feel slightly suffocating.

This was what had happened after Wen Qiwu “died.”

            

She had survived by a stroke of luck, awakening inside a phoenix egg in the Endless Tree Sea. Later, Wen Qiwu saved a badly wounded Gao Fu and learned from her that a century had passed in the outside world.

…

“Qiwu?” Gao Fu waved a hand in front of her. “What are you spacing out about?”

            

Wen Qiwu snapped out of her reverie. “N-nothing.”

The people on the first floor of the teahouse were still in heated discussion, and the name Yun Heng kept reaching Wen Qiwu’s ears.

They were all guessing who could leave this Immortal Venerable’s love unrequited—name after name tumbled from their mouths, and Wen Qiwu had no idea her shijie¹ had been acquainted with so many people!

            

Her heart soured, as if a stone steeped in a vat of vinegar² pressed down on her heart.

Wen Qiwu did not want to listen anymore. She ducked her head and turned to leave.

“Tell us more, sir! Which faction does the one the Immortal Venerable loves belong to? Someone who can refuse the Immortal Venerable’s courtship… I’d like to see what kind of person that is!”

            

The storyteller fanned himself, having whetted everyone’s appetite, before finally saying, “I do have two pieces of news here, though I can’t vouch for their truth. Just treat them as a joke, everyone.”

“There are rumors that the one the Immortal Venerable loves already has a spouse, and others say the one the Immortal Venerable loves comes from the Buddhist path…” The storyteller was popular precisely because his stories were one part truth and nine parts fabrication—that nine-tenths of falsehood was entirely spun to suit the listeners’ preferences. In his view, only something sufficiently sensational and absurd could hold the crowd’s curiosity.

What kind of unverifiable news was this? It was outright fabrication!

            

The storyteller was in full flow, completely failing to notice a white bird that had landed on the teahouse’s ceiling beam.

The atmosphere where the Wenshen Sect disciples sat was oppressive. The young disciples didn’t dare speak, because a faint killing intent rose from Elder Dong Shiyue—her sword had slipped partway from its sheath, and a chilling cold had begun to seep outward while the storyteller spouted his nonsense.

In her life, Dong Shiyue revered three people above all: first, her master; second, Wen Qiwu; and third, Sect Master Yun Heng. The storyteller’s drivel had directly insulted two of them.

            

She intended to teach the storyteller a lesson, make sure he’d never dare spread tales about the Sect Master again.

Before she could act, a gale suddenly swept through the first floor of the teahouse, overturning the storyteller’s stall outright.

Whoever the kind soul was who had intervened, Dong Shiyue pressed her sword back into its sheath.

            

“Let’s go,” she said to the young disciples.

“Yes.”

As Dong Shiyue rose, she glanced toward the second floor again. The person whose bearing had so resembled Elder Wen was no longer there.

            

A flash of grief crossed her eyes. Then, just as Dong Shiyue was about to look away, she unexpectedly noticed the little white bird on the ceiling beam.

Dong Shiyue froze. That bird looked just like…the little one called Qingtuan that used to follow Elder Wen around!

After Elder Wen died, that bird named Qingtuan had vanished. It hadn’t returned in all these hundred years.

            

Dong Shiyue quietly produced a birdcage from her Storage Bag. It was Elder Wen’s former possession—Dong Shiyue had obtained it by chance, and she’d heard it was a treasure the Sect Master had personally forged for Elder Wen.

Wen Qiwu finally released the stifled breath in her chest. The little white phoenix was about to spread her wings and fly off when a flash of Immortal Artifact light suddenly swept beneath her feet.

The birdcage closed over her like an inescapable net. Alarms went off in Wen Qiwu’s mind—this birdcage appeared to be an Immortal Artifact-tier treasure.

            

Bang! The white phoenix, trying to break through the barrier, slammed headfirst into the birdcage. Wen Qiwu was stunned to find her power had vanished.

“You really look just like it…Qingtuan, is that you?” A century had passed without her realizing, and even Dong Shiyue couldn’t be certain her memory wasn’t playing tricks on her.

Unfortunately, the little bird in the cage gave no response.

            

Guess not, then.

Dong Shiyue sighed inwardly. But running into this little one was a kind of fate, and she hadn’t figured out what gift to bring the Sect Master on her return—why not bring it along? Yunwu Mountain had been deathly still these past years. The Sect Master…she was almost out of things to hold on to.

Truly, the tables had turned…

            

Wen Qiwu recognized this birdcage. It had once been used to hold Qingtuan—and now she was inside it herself.

Back then, her shijie had laid layer upon layer of restrictions inside it to keep caged enemies from hurting her—even a Golden Immortal Realm cultivator wouldn’t fare well against them, let alone herself at only Earth Immortal Realm. She knew exactly how formidable this Immortal Artifact was, so she stopped struggling.

True to form for an Immortal Artifact forged by her shijie’s own hands—she was suppressed to the point where she could only manage “chirp chirp” sounds, unable to speak a single word.

            

After returning to their temporary lodging, Dong Shiyue set the birdcage on a cabinet beside her. She reached out with one finger to ruffle the bird’s head, then produced a mirror to contact her master back at the sect.

“I’m sorry, Shizun³. I haven’t found any leads on the Jade Bone Grass. I’ll search deeper in the Endless Tree Sea tomorrow.”

The mirror sat right beside the birdcage, and Wen Qiwu saw the person she had rescued all those years ago—Ah Yue’s master.

            

Wait—if she remembered correctly, that group of young disciples earlier had called this person Elder Dong.

Could it be…Ah Yue?! No wonder she had looked familiar—the features of her childhood were still faintly visible in her face. It really was that child!

“The depths of the Endless Tree Sea are too dangerous. Come back first. Shizun and the other elders will search elsewhere later.”

            

“But I finally have a lead on the Jade Bone Grass. Let me keep looking—the Sect Master’s injuries can’t wait any longer!” Dong Shiyue’s eyes grew slightly red.

Bang!

The cage beside them suddenly tumbled to the floor from an impact. Dong Shiyue hastily retrieved it and set it back on the table. As she righted the cage, her eyes met Wen Qiwu’s—and for some reason, she thought she glimpsed grief and urgency in that bird’s eyes. Dong Shiyue’s hand trembled, nearly letting the cage slip again.

            

---