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beneaththebrim · 1 year

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Lie Huo Jiao Chou Vol.2 Simplified Print Extra

Prepare for Lingyuan baby lore.

Caveat: This, like all my translations, is a learning translation, relies heavily on dictionaries, and likely contains some mistakes--I appreciate corrections/feedback! This extra contains spoilers through Book 4.

The year myriad beasts tramped iron-hooved over Nanming Valley, Nanming’s fires cast down, burning the world map to tatters. The arrogant last emperor’s blood quenched the land, leaving his former retainers of wealth and influence to scatter anchorless. As madness descended upon both man and yao, the mixed-blood Human Sovereign was born in a run-down thatched hut in the countryside.

An evil produced in the wake of chaos, his pupils bore flames by nature, a Vermilion Bird clan sigil graced his forehead, and he was born laughing. Outside the window, flocks of birds descended at the sound of his laughter and perched in utter silence—as though waiting for something, or perhaps in some silent mourning. Just as Empress Chen and her thousand midwives and maidservants stood around cluelessly, a flame streaked across—the Bifang clan had dispatched an “assassin” to “opportunely” steal away the newborn princeling.

As recorded in the Qingping Annals, History of Qi: All the midwives, maidservants, and twenty-one bodyguards who had been on the scene to witness the abnormal phenomena that day—apart from Empress Chen herself and her trusted confidante Lady Ma—“succumbed to the wicked yao’s evildoing.” There were no survivors.

The Bifang clan, those silly birds, had arrived under the Vermilion Birds’ ordinance, risking death to retrieve the “bloodline of the Vermilion Bird,” and hence blundered into carrying this great black pot. It wasn’t until returning and looking more closely that they discovered, this “bloodline of the Vermilion Bird” was a mixed-blood half-yao.

Yaokind had always discriminated against half-yaos, which they took for the lowest of slaves. In wartime, the half-yaos’ situation was even worse off; most of them were put to death or abandoned at birth. But, this half-yao bore the bloodline of the vanquished divine bird, and all the winged kinds had no choice but to revere him as a young ruler. What were they to do? The Bifangs sheltered this hot potato, neither killing nor worshiping it.

Pulling long faces, the big pheasants all put together their walnut-sized brains, and, propped up on their singular legs[1], discussed the matter for days on end, only to discuss themselves into a bowl of mush: Since it was a matter of carrying out the Vermilion Birds’ order, they had to receive him with proper courtesy. But, half-yaos were inauspicious, so they couldn’t help but remain on their guard.

Thus, they simultaneously gave this kid the “young ruler” treatment and regarded him as disaster incarnate. Estranged, they exalted him. Coldly, they waited upon him. They let him have whatever he desired, but never got too close.

What kind of good egg might this sort of rotten henhouse have incubated?

Hence, when Danli brought back the “missing” crown prince, he got himself a tyrannical, crafty, insidious, and overbearing little hellion.

Yaokind was different from humankind; yaokind’s juvenile stage would stretch long, but lack an ignorant stage of infancy; upon birth, the young could run and scamper about. Half-yaos lay between human and yao; at two-some years, half-yaos would have already completely cast off their yao form, and appear no different from a human child. Their intelligence, however, was around that of a seven- or eight-year-old human.

Being forced to return to humankind, the young crown prince initially feigned an adorable sort of ignorance. Then, taking advantage of a moment when his guards weren’t paying attention, he’d poison the entire cluster of bodyguards into a tizzy. Upon being dragged back after his aborted attempt, he’d play the same act again, with an innocent look like he’d never done anything. This little hellion fled four times in three days, inflicted surprise stab wounds upon two among his retinue, poisoned them once, and set fire to them another time—up until he finally realized that Danli was simply playing cat-and-mouse with him for his own amusement.

The young Sheng Lingyuan looked rather like an immortal youth in a painting, yet was unable to speak even a word of human speech. All he uttered was birdspeak, and moreover filthy birdspeak. Danli rather amusedly listened as the kid verbally tortured him to death and dismembered his corpse, poured His Loquacious Highness water to wet his lips, and when the boy was done drinking, pinched him unconscious—at which point he sighed in exasperation: The winged clans were truly uneducated and dull-witted; for a child to have been raised over two full years to this sort of quality, their end was inevitable.

Fortunately, the Cauldron of Heaven and Earth was already in place, and he could still be remolded. To kill the body and become a demon was to be born anew; another round of cooking, and this little thing wouldn’t have any memory of his “prior life” in the Bifang clan.

As for his temperament…

Danli pinched the child’s face in his hand, giving him a careful once-over. This kid’s face was just like Royal Lady Wanfei’s, while his profile retained a shadow of Emperor Ping—nary among them a good person.

Danli thought: Perhaps it wasn’t all the Bifangs’ fault; this kid is likely just no-good by nature.

Fortunately, he was not planning to provide humankind with a benevolent Son of Heaven for the ages. As a tool, to be a sharp blade was enough.

Eighty-one of humankind’s masters sacrificed, flesh recast in the Cauldron of Heaven and Earth, and the heavenly demon was merely a vessel, but hadn’t yet taken shape.

The heavenly demon was humankind’s means of pulling a fast one on yaokind to refine a “living Chiyuan.” Its sea of consciousness being interconnected with Chiyuan, this heavenly demon’s body would be at the receiving end of all the world’s hostility. As long as he couldn’t wield it freely, all the resentment and hatred of those unable to rest in peace would be absorbed into his sea of consciousness, either to be consumed by the heavenly demon, becoming his very first “nourishment,” or, while the heavenly demon was still weak, to contaminate the place and consume his divine consciousness in turn, taking hold of his body—just like cultivating gu.

Resentment accumulated bit by bit. Although it wasn’t a single whole, the convergence of tens of thousands of droplets would pour into a sea, and could even drown out a juvenile heavenly demon’s divine consciousness. Danli reached out to press against the as-yet-unconscious young heavenly demon’s scalding forehead to peep into his sea of consciousness: Within was a black expanse like any ghostly netherworld of legend, countless “shadows” hovering therein. Those “shadows” were the dread of the dying, were all-encompassing resentment, were unbearable pain and bone-deep rancor.

Danli felt this little whelp wasn’t likely to survive, in which case things would prove simple—the heavenly demon’s body would lie dormant for three to five years, just in time for the “heavenly demon sword spirit” lodging therein to form consciousness enough to wake. Vermilion Bird overcame demon by nature; when the time came, the last little Vermilion Bird in the world could easily subdue the pack of demons and take hold of this spiritual vessel.

After all, what was a “Human Sovereign” really? No more than the sentiment of those fools toward that prophecy Wanfei had trumped up, a tool begot of vain hope. As long as the heavenly demon’s body was present, souls were all the same. The Vermilion Bird harbored inside would thence be able to make use of humankind’s sentiment to revolt against yaokind; each side would have what it wished.

But there was a “what if” to everything. What if Wanfei’s bastard son inherited her viciousness along with Emperor Ping’s greed and arrogance, and truly could consume all the demons, or find another way… This truly was a bit pesky.

Danli stroked the soft hair at the crown of the child’s head. Recalling that face of Wanfei’s that wouldn’t close its eyes even in death, he sighed, and spoke into his ear: “No one is looking forward to your birth. You haven’t even seen the light of day, and have already incurred this much hatred, why take the trouble? Far too painful, why not just go; perhaps in the next life you shan’t be cast into such a bullheaded mold.”

His words fell into the heavenly demon’s sea of consciousness, rousing a chorus of ghostly wails. However, the living person in the sea of consciousness couldn’t understand human speech, and curled up in a corner. Vaguely sensing his malice, he practically shrank away into nothing.

On the third day of the heavenly demon body’s refinement, the young heavenly demon’s divine consciousness woke.

Initially, the young heavenly demon instinctively wanted to retract his body’s five senses. As soon as he did so, he came face-to-face with two floating “shadows” in his sea of consciousness. Their unbridled resentment pierced the juvenile divine consciousness like the tip of a blade, nearly rending him to pieces on the spot. Danli watched the tiny divine consciousness still itself for a moment, perhaps coming to, and then, with a start, it scurried frantically into the deepest depths of the sea of consciousness.

Observing him, Danli withdrew his hand and thought to himself: As expected.

After all, as a mere wisp of intelligence in the sea of consciousness, the young heavenly demon rapidly learned how to avoid those “shadows.” In the ten days that followed, he grew more and more nimble; in the first couple days he’d still accidentally be knocked over by those “shadows” every now and then, while later on he learned to come and go like a specter.

The “newborn” heavenly demon didn’t remember anything, but his level of intelligence remained. To seek gain and avoid harm required no instruction; after suffering one “beating,” he naturally learned his lesson. Lest he again endure hardship, the little thing would begin to hide himself away and no longer dare to strain himself trying to wield control over his sea of consciousness. But if he couldn’t handle taking the initiative to consume the shadows and condense his divine consciousness, he’d miss his only opportunity.

In no more than a month, the resentment passing from Chiyuan to his sea of consciousness would grow denser and denser, and he’d no longer have anywhere to hide.

When that time came, even a master who’d cultivated their divine consciousness a century would find it difficult to carry on, let alone a mere child whose memory was a blank expanse.

Ignorant of these matters, the little heavenly demon had no idea that his fate was already set in stone.

This most revered bloodline of both human- and yaokind had crystallized, only to perish at the tender age of two, alas.

The no-faced incarnation of the divine image lacked capacity for sorrow or joy. Gently, he kneaded the young heavenly demon’s lockstitched brow, knowing that he no longer had to pay heed to this little thing. In comparison to the suspenseless matter of the heavenly demon body’s ownership, the missing Cauldron of Heaven and Earth and Vermilion Bird remains were far more pressing. These two matters were inextricably connected to Meng Xia, but unfortunately, he shouldered the Sacrifice of Blazing Light, and couldn’t publicly break face with Wanfei…

The eleventh day, Danli went to the front line for good, and the hiding place of the young heavenly demon trapped in “Chiyuan” was changed.

He remained hidden for the twelfth day, the thirteenth day…

However, on the seventeenth day of his hiding away, a surprise attack was mounted upon humankind’s principal tent by a young nightmare beast. The dream-urging technique it released spread far and wide, and the exhausted little heavenly demon was briefly dragged into a nightmare.

In his flailing, he was captured by the ever-thickening shadows in the heavenly demon sea of consciousness.

The young heavenly demon awoke with a start amidst a flurry of resentment painful as being dismembered alive. The backlashing shadows threw themselves over like a moth to a flame and scrabbled mindlessly at him, tearing at him, gnawing at him.

He had no way to avoid them, and in the end, at this hopeless impasse, the little heavenly demon’s innate ferocity was ignited. A raging hatred overtook him; his heart beat madly, and his thirst-driven fangs and claws sprang out in counterattack. It was then that another shadow threw itself fiercely at him. Some other commoner slaughtered by cultivator or great yao, their hatred and bitter pain trickled over his entire body, and the fledgling divine consciousness silently struggled—

Kill them all…

I have to kill them all…

“Wummm—”

A hum emanated out from his spinal column, answering its master’s powerless wrath.

The heavenly demon sword spirit was endowed with life through the death of the mixed-blood half-yao. To fool the eighty-one human cultivators offered as sacrifice, Danli did not mess with the contract between heavenly demon and heavenly demon sword—as long as the heavenly demon’s divine consciousness lived, he would indeed be the sword spirit’s master. In any case, the sword spirit forged of a Vermilion Bird heavenly spirit ought not have matured enough to awaken for another three to five years. By that time, whether the heavenly demon’s divine consciousness had already perished or suffered heavy injuries after repeated “lessons,” he would have well and properly given way for the sword spirit.

However, because this heavenly demon sword spirit was “endowed with life” by the master of the sword, the connection between sword spirit and sword master was far more intimate than Danli could have imagined—that in that moment, the sword master’s powerful killing intent would awaken the sword spirit ahead of time.

A flame abruptly streaked across the young heavenly demon’s pitch-black sea of consciousness. The densely-packed shadows scattered as though in fright, while the flame rushed at him like a fledgling swallow toward its nesting grove.

The young heavenly demon had no time to hide. Startled, he was smacked head-on by the flame. That moment, an ineffable warmth wrapped around him, and he heard another heartbeat which pulsed along with his own intention.

The flame turned into a hazy-edged ball, rubbing against him like a clingy child. As the invisible connection between sword master and sword spirit intertwined the pair of ignorant souls, an abrupt, rootless concept arose in the young heavenly demon’s mind.

Dazedly, he thought: Is this… for me?

He’d no memory of his past, but seemed to vaguely know, there’d never been anything in the world he could call his own.

The human cultivators repelling the nightmare beast panted back over. Afraid the as-yet unconscious heavenly demon had been affected, they hurriedly employed talismans to dispel the remaining illusion technique, but saw that the corners of the child’s eyes were dripping tear-like blood which trickled down and soaked the hair at his temples.

All the heavenly demon’s tears were but false affection; when he genuinely cried, he’d only cry blood.

The sword spirit had been roused ahead of schedule, and understood neither human nor yao speech. Other than crying, he’d only make chirping “ji-ji” sounds. The young heavenly demon didn’t know what he was either, and so simply called him “Ji.” “Ji” this and “Ji” that, the sword spirit connected to the heavenly demon’s mind understood that this was referring to himself, and in his muddleheaded state, took it henceforth as his name. Only ever “Ji,” for three thousand years.[2]

The sword spirit was leagues apart from the sharp claws and fangs the young heavenly demon imagined, but he wasn’t entirely unhelpful; upon touching a shadow, he’d run into his master’s arms and bawl, and upon bawling, the flame would grow more intense, and the pitch-black sea of consciousness full of flickering shadows would gain a light source. Those shadows would have nowhere to hide in the light; it seemed they’d never gain the upper hand again.

Three days later, having been alerted about “His Highness the crown prince’s abnormal state,” Danli hurried over. It took him a great deal of time to probe the heavenly demon’s sea of consciousness before he withdrew his fingers. Beneath the mask, no one could make out his expression.

After a long pause, he said softly: “No need to worry, it’s simply that the sword spirit has awoken ahead of schedule… This signals a predestined affinity between sword and sword master.”

Ignorant of the truth, the human cultivators erupted in joy. Only Danli sighed in silence.

Over a span of three thousand-some years, crossing past numerous life-and-death entanglements, fate was indeed set—yet it was unclear for whom it was destiny, for whom it was calamity.[3]

Notes:

1) Bifangs are one-legged.

2) This is 叽, meaning “to chirp,” homophonic with Xuan Ji’s childhood nickname 鸡 - “chicken” and his usual name 玑.

3) The word for “calamity” is 劫, the same as the word Xuan Ji uses for Sheng Lingyuan in the Thousand Yao Handbook.

#烈火浇愁 #lie huo jiao chou #drowning sorrows in raging fire #sheng lingyuan #xuan ji #danli #the emperor and his chicken #my translation

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