The Great King Ordered Me to Marry – Chapter 31
by Little PandaSpeaking of the Fox and Tiger Heading Straight for the Yellow Springs Bureau
Between the cracks of life and death, Zhuoxue had no time to be frightened, let alone stand on ceremony with Longming—she opened her mouth and called out Longming’s name.
The waters of the Yellow Springs were truly different. They weighed upon her like a thousand jin1, and beneath lurked an invisible force that sucked at her, as though determined to drag her to the riverbed and would not rest until it did.
Had this Yellow Springs Bureau been built in the Mortal Realm, the riverbed would surely be carpeted with bones.
Fortunately, after swallowing the water spirit, that flesh-carving, bone-scraping pain had been entirely swept away; submerged in the water, she only felt a cold chill.
“Open your eyes.” Longming was nearly tangled up by the fox’s arms and legs, and could not help but inhale softly. Before her eyes was the fox’s pale, delicate face.
Watching the dripping fox about to press right up to her, she tilted her head back to avoid her, still fairly composed as she said, “The water spirit is inside you. There is no need to panic.”
Zhuoxue shivered incessantly, her eyelashes trembling like butterfly wings. Her hair and clothes were soaked through, and the water droplets on her face, drawn by the Wangchuan, slowly slid downward, gliding right past her lips.
She was so consumed by fear that she could not make out any sound near her ears.
What bobo chicken2? Where was there bobo chicken?
Her cherry lips parted wide, trying to snatch air from elsewhere, and it was almost like offering a kiss—she nearly touched Longming’s cheek.
Longming raised her hand and brushed away that water droplet, using the motion to push the fox back.
Who knew the fox could be so frightened—frightened enough that even the color of her lips had paled; once covered by the water’s tint, it was as though her rouge had been blotted away, becoming pale but not wan.
Zhuoxue still had not opened her eyes. Even pushed back, she kept pressing forward with dogged persistence—if not for her trembling all over, it might have looked like a deliberate flirtation.
It was just that in her heart, she did not consider mouth-to-mouth contact as flirtation—flirtation ought to be touching someone’s buttocks.
In the past at Qiufeng Ridge, Lan Hui would pat the backsides of kittens that had not yet gained intelligence and kept mewing, saying that once you patted them through this phase, the kittens would feel better.
Lan Hui had said then that you could only pat those who had not yet gained spiritual intelligence—if it were anyone else, it would be frivolous and indecent, grounds for expulsion from the mountain.
Zhuoxue was so terrified her soul had flown a hundred li away, and she counted in a daze just how many wicked thoughts she had harbored.
Tracing it to the root, she had harbored those wicked thoughts for Lan Hui’s sake, even if she had misunderstood the situation.
“The water spirit will not suffocate you.” Longming had no choice but to extend her index finger and press it against Zhuoxue’s forehead, bringing her scattered thoughts back to the present.
She then continued, “Try opening your eyes. Right now, half your body is above the water. Unless the Yellow Springs flood the Heavenly Palace, you will not drown.”
The fox that had been clinging to her and kicking upward suddenly went still.
After a long while, Zhuoxue slowly lifted her left eyelid, and only then lifted her right.
So she had not been submerged after all—she had been terrified for nothing.
She was not entirely ignorant of swimming, either; if asked to swim, she could paddle with all four limbs and probably scrape her way a few chi forward.
It was just that this was no ordinary river or lake—this was the Wangchuan.
Looking more closely, Longming was standing motionless in the water, neither swinging her arms nor moving her legs, as though there were solid ground beneath her feet.
Zhuoxue let out a long breath of relief, belatedly realizing that her legs were wrapped tightly around Longming’s waist—and that waist was strong and resilient, bearing her weight without so much as a bend.
And her and Longming’s skirts were both floating in the water, drifting like fish tails. That invisible force could not drag them down heavily, so it probably would not harm her either.
“What was all that pressing forward just now?” Longming wore a half-smile.
Zhuoxue hastily found herself a way out, “I was afraid you had drowned. I was trying to pass you air.”
Never mind who the fox was that had been screaming for help just moments ago.
Longming kindly did not expose her, and only said, “A kind thought, but passing air will not be necessary. You can let go first.”
“Fine waist,” Zhuoxue praised, so that Longming would not feel her effort went unappreciated and become displeased.
She did not dare release her grip entirely, slowly lowering one leg first—she would never put the other down until she felt solid ground.
In the distance, the sound of wind suddenly rose, like ghosts howling and wailing.
Longming said coldly, “Hide first.”
“How do I hide?”
Before Zhuoxue could figure it out, she felt Longming’s body slowly sinking—she was clearly walking underwater!
Step by step, methodically.
Zhuoxue did not have time to close her eyes before she was completely submerged.
It was not pitch-dark before her eyes, but neither was it bright—she could only vaguely make out a few ripples reflected on her body, as though the flowing light from Longming’s robes had also settled on her clothes.
Zhuoxue held her breath and stayed still, eye to eye with Longming. She dangled one leg in alarm, momentarily unsure whether she should start paddling with all four limbs.
“Breathe in.” Longming moved her lips, her hauntingly beautiful face also reflecting the water ripples.
Had Zhuoxue not been so close, she would certainly have thought the great demon before her was but a wraith.
She tentatively took a gentle breath, and only then did she know the water spirit truly worked—whether she inhaled or exhaled, she did not choke.
“With the water spirit inside me, if I dove into rivers, lakes, or seas other than the Wangchuan, would I also be able to come and go freely?” Zhuoxue spoke openly, never imagining that a land-dwelling fox might one day become a fish in the water.
“I have not tried, but it should work,” Longming said.
Zhuoxue smiled. As she raised her hand, the water rippled, and the reflections on Longming’s face shifted along with them—bizarre and kaleidoscopic, like someone in a dream.
The shimmering water-light was a veil, blurring Longming’s expression and making her all the more mysterious and inscrutable.
Zhuoxue watched with keen interest, and suddenly caught a whiff of cold fragrance.
It might have been Longming’s scent—cold like hers, yet not piercing or overbearing, only like a fluttering butterfly that brushed past the tip of her heart and darted away.
Both demons were soaked through and through. They were submerged in the Wangchuan, not on shore, so they would not be dry or crisp.
Their clothes were sheer as cicada wings, and now pressed body to body—what difference was there from embracing without a single thread?
In Mortal Realm storybooks, there was no shortage of scenes of lovers entwining in water, but alas, the descriptions were never detailed enough—she had learned nothing from them.
At this thought, Zhuoxue let out a gentle breath—this time not from fear.
“The other leg,” Longming indicated.
Zhuoxue’s ear tips burned, and she hurriedly slid off Longming—no urging needed.
“How is it? Can you still stand firmly?” Longming asked.
Zhuoxue was quite surprised. When she set both feet down, it truly felt like walking on flat ground—only her legs were slightly heavier than usual.
This was not merely getting the hang of the water in an instant—it was clearly becoming one with the water spirit itself, able to move freely through the Wangchuan at will.
Looking up, she could see the dark, heavy surface of the water, and those drifting ripples were like a demonic barrier, sealing her and Longming within.
Zhuoxue gazed in fascination, both hands tucking up the hem of her skirt, her jade-white legs swaying in the water. The silver bell on her ankle chimed—a clear, light ring swallowed by the water.
She had once heard that in the Dragon Palace3, great waves never ceased, and the water-light shimmered within the palace, yet nothing was disturbed by the waves—she imagined it must be something like this.
“Walk a few more steps, and you will grow accustomed to it.” Longming turned to leave.
Behind her, the fox lowered her voice, asking in a whisper like a thief, “If we talk like this, will we not be discovered?”
“It does not matter. The Wangchuan drowns out all sound—beyond ten chi, there is only silence.” Longming spoke with composure.
“Ten chi?” Zhuoxue calculated as she pressed closer, terrified that if she were even a step slower, she would not hear Longming speak.
She pressed so close that her chest nearly touched Longming’s back, not even worried about stepping on Longming’s shoes.
Longming had been about to ask—was she hard of hearing, that she needed to press this close?—but then remembered that this fox truly was hard of hearing.
She paused, and the fox bumped right into her back, so she simply did not ask.
Zhuoxue gathered her skirt and asked again, “When currents in the Mortal Realm are swift, they can surge ten chi in a single breath—why does the Wangchuan have no wind or waves?”
As she spoke, a string of fine, dense bubbles escaped from her lips. Her gaze followed them, and she released her skirt to reach for those bubbles.
Longming gave a faint smile. “The Wangchuan has no wind and no waves. Only when Yaojing immortals come to admire the flowers does Yanwang use magic to raise the waves, letting boats ride the swells.”
“The flowers have wilted? There is not a blade of grass along this entire path—it does not look like a place that could produce flowers.” Zhuoxue was surprised.
“The flowers are inside the Yellow Springs Bureau,” Longming said.
So familiar—Zhuoxue turned her head suspiciously. “This is not your first time here?”
Longming’s eyes were still red. Now wreathed in ghostly aura, when her expression darkened slightly, her eyes were like clouds obscuring the sun—though not vicious or sinister, they were cold enough.
“I have been here a few times,” she said mildly.
Zhuoxue could not think of any other reason and blurted out, “To search for Princess Jueguang’s reincarnation?”
Such relentless persistence—truly obsessive.
It must have been seared onto the tip of her heart for her to be so unrelenting. Someone that unforgettable could not be so easily replaced.
She had let her guard down. Fortunately, she no longer harbored any improper thoughts toward Longming.
The fox puffed her cheeks and blew a long string of bubbles, but alas, they escaped so quickly that she caught not a single one.
“I searched a few times. When I could not find her, I let it go,” Longming said, walking slowly along the Wangchuan.
“You just gave up?” Zhuoxue did not believe her. “Were the water spirits stored in trees just for fun?”
“I gathered too many water spirits and had to imprison them in the ancient locust tree, to prepare for unexpected needs,” Longming explained.
Zhuoxue muttered inwardly—that was plainly sophistry, and yet she still claimed her feelings for Jueguang were not like that.
Truly—the tiger in the game is confused, the fox on the sidelines is clear4.
Following the Yellow Springs straight upward, the ghostly howls grew louder by her ears, sending chills down Zhuoxue’s spine.
And these Yellow Springs waters were thick and black as ink—walking through them, she could neither see where she had come from nor make out what lay ahead. She could only glimpse scattered ripples, and could not even estimate how far she had walked.
Zhuoxue no longer dared to speak carelessly, following closely at Longming’s back step by step.
Longming strolled as though through a courtyard, and said calmly, “Ahead is the Winding Place.”
Zhuoxue looked forward. Within these ten chi, she could make out faint ghostly shadows. The Wangchuan’s surface was no longer still—it was churned into splashing waves by the dense mass of struggling ghosts.
Some ghosts were crammed in among them, actually suspended upside-down, their hollow, vacant eyes staring straight at her—so frightening that she froze in place.
Thousands upon thousands of legs kicked and thrashed, like inverted seaweed, nearly kicking the top of her head.
The last time she came, she had seen these vengeful ghosts from the banks of the Yellow Springs—at that time, she had only thought their faces were hideous and frightening.
Now, beneath the Yellow Springs, the ghosts struggled endlessly, and it only made her feel pity.
Longming regarded them coldly and continued along the Yellow Springs. “Walk.”
Zhuoxue hurried to catch up, holding her breath and gripping Longming’s sleeve. She glanced up once more, then bowed her head—she did not want to be kicked in the head by the ghosts.
Further ahead, an invisible pressure bore down directly on her skull—icy gazes struck from all directions, as though they could split mountains and shatter walls, radiating awe in every direction.
Zhuoxue’s heart filled with dread, and she nearly could not move. Fortunately, she still gripped Longming’s sleeve—whenever Longming stepped forward, she followed, as though drifting with the current.
The flowing demonic power on Longming’s robes passed beneath her fingertips—no weaker than Yanwang’s oppressive presence. Even though the demonic power was not hers, she instantly relaxed.
But Longming was right—after her cultivation breakthrough, she was far less afraid than on her previous visit. That invisible pressure could no longer subdue her.
Suddenly, a gate of gleaming light appeared before her eyes. It was covered in runes, their carved edges sharp as axes—any hand pressed against it would likely be flayed to the bone.
“The Yellow Springs Bureau Gate.” Longming raised her arm, her palm hovering before the copper gate. “It is used to bar the ghosts.”
“Is this gate not one that anyone seeking reincarnation can enter?” Zhuoxue reasoned—last time she came, Grandma Qian had passed through without obstruction.
“You must have Black and White Impermanence as guides to pass through unimpeded,” Longming said. She traced the patterns on the gate, and was not injured in the slightest.
Looking closer, the light on the gate actually came from thousands upon thousands of water spirits. A single one was unremarkable, but gathered together, they shone as bright as a brilliant moon.
The water spirits gently supported Longming’s palm, shielding it from the sharp carvings. And in truth, Longming was not tracing the gate’s patterns—she was simply touching the multitude of water spirits.
Zhuoxue’s heart still had lingering fear. Fortunately, she had not rashly tried to pass through the gate last time—if she could not enter, getting a head full of bumps would have been the least of it. If she had knocked her head off, how would she still be alive today?
“Then how do we enter?” Aside from breaking open the copper gate, she could not think of any other way.
Longming turned sideways. “With water spirits here, why worry about not getting in?”
With that, she grasped Zhuoxue’s slender arm and, before Zhuoxue could react, gave a silent, gentle push.
A narrow gap—thinner than paper.
Yet this gap could not sever the Wangchuan, and naturally could not block the water spirits either.
In the blink of an eye, Zhuoxue passed through the gate, and was then dazzled by the sudden brightness, unable to open her eyes.
She raised her hand to shield her eyes, groping anxiously to the side, not knowing where Longming was.
The Wangchuan could actually let light through—only, what reflected on the water’s surface was not bright lanterns, but ghostly green fire.
Longming also passed through the crack in the gate and gave a light tap on Zhuoxue’s flailing arm, saying, “This is inside the Yellow Springs Bureau. Ten li forward to Yanwang’s Office, and past Yanwang’s Office are the Seven Paths of Reincarnation.”
“We still have to walk ten li?” Zhuoxue was already starting to lose heart.
She had no musical or artistic talents; the one thing she was best at in this life was beating the retreat drum5.
Footnotes
- A jin (斤) is a traditional Chinese unit of weight, approximately 0.5 kilograms or 1.1 pounds.
- Bobo chicken (钵钵鸡) is a famous Sichuan cold chicken dish served in small bowls. Zhuoxue mishears garbled underwater sounds as food names, a habitual verbal tic.
- In Chinese mythology, the Dragon Palace (龙宫) is the magnificent underwater palace of the Dragon King, often described as impervious to the surrounding ocean.
- A fox-and-tiger twist on the Chinese idiom 'the player in the game is confused, the bystander sees clearly' (当局者迷，旁观者清), substituting fox and tiger to reflect Zhuoxue and Longming's respective species.
- The 'retreat drum' (退堂鼓) originally referred to the drum beaten to signal the end of a court session; the idiom 打退堂鼓 means to give up or back out. Zhuoxue puns on 鼓 (drum) as both a musical instrument and part of the idiom, claiming her greatest musical talent is 'beating the retreat drum'—i.e., giving up.
0 Comments