The red bead glowed on the lotus stand, and the little phoenix stared at it, a few hazy, instinctive thoughts flashing through its tiny head.
What is this? Why is it so familiar?
Is it another bird’s… egg?
The little phoenix’s spiritual intelligence hadn’t fully awakened yet, so it lacked clear analytical abilities. However, the powerful, fervent divine nature of an adult phoenix immediately permeated all its senses, even causing its soul to tremble involuntarily.
It instinctively identified this feeling as danger.
Zhou Hui must have secretly hidden this here, behind its back.
The little phoenix glanced at the bathroom like a thief. Zhou Hui’s singing in the sound of the water had a jarring off-key quality, seemingly completely unaware of the commotion in the bedroom.
After a moment of hesitation, the little phoenix turned its head, looked at the brilliantly shining red bead, and finally made up its mind.
—If there’s another bird, Zhou Hui won’t want me anymore.
The little phoenix flapped its wings, carefully knocked over the glass jar, and opened its mouth to pick up the red bead.
Humming, Zhou Hui wiped his head with a towel and walked out of the bathroom naked. Residual water droplets glistened on his strong six-pack abs in the dim bedroom.
He first habitually glanced at the nightstand; the space beside the milk cup was empty, no little phoenix.
He looked up again, and the little phoenix was curled up on top of the wardrobe, almost touching the ceiling.
“Chirp chirp, come down.” Zhou Hui gestured with his hand: “Come down and I’ll wipe your feathers for you, then we can watch TV together.”
But the little phoenix turned its head away, ignoring him. The feathers on the back of its neck were slightly puffed up, and its tail feathers were curled under its belly. The entire little bird was like a plump, fluffy ball.
“Chirp chirp?” Zhou Hui felt a bit strange, put down the towel, and called again: “Chirp chirp? Little fluffy chirp? What’s wrong with you?”
The little phoenix still ignored him.
Could it be that I’m not wearing clothes, so it’s shy? No way, even if its intelligence is developing quickly, it shouldn’t be this fast. Zhou Hui, filled with doubt, ran to the bathroom to get dressed, then came out and stood under the wardrobe, looking up and calling: “Come down, little phoenix! I’ll take you out for something delicious!”
But this time, the little phoenix twisted its body and turned its backside directly to him.
“…” Only then did Zhou Hui truly feel confused, but no matter how he coaxed, or promised to take it out to play and eat, the little phoenix wouldn’t listen.
Chu He only gave the silent treatment when he was truly angry. If the little phoenix’s behavior was equated, Chu He’s anger level should have reached the standard of Zhou Hui training an ignorant young roc to fetch frisbees, or tying a little peacock to a pole and dragging its tail feathers across the floor.
Zhou Hui stood under the wardrobe coaxing it for a long time, finally helpless, he moved a chair and climbed up. He saw the little phoenix curled up in the innermost corner, clutching its small belly, looking at the ceiling with a very wronged expression.
“…What’s wrong?”
Zhou Hui was extremely puzzled. He reached out to pick it up, but the little phoenix immediately lowered its head in a threatening gesture, an expression that seemed to say, “If you put your hand here, I’ll peck you.”
Could it be that its rebellious phase has arrived?
Thinking this, Zhou Hui surveyed the room, his gaze falling on the unfinished milk. He thought the milk was bad or too hot, which made the little phoenix angry, so he went to taste it, but found nothing unusual.
…No way, is it really a rebellious phase? Zhou Hui was even more baffled.
After that, Zhou Hui tried for a full hour, but couldn’t coax the little phoenix down from the wardrobe. If he tried to force it, the little phoenix would start chirping, shrinking into the corner, threatening to spray fire. Finally, Zhou Hui gave up, leaving it up there to wait until it cooled down and came down on its own.
However, the little phoenix’s anger didn’t subside that entire night.
When the lights were off for the night, Zhou Hui lay in bed, seemingly asleep with his eyes closed, but in the darkness, his entire consciousness was focused on the top of the wardrobe. He could feel the little phoenix drooping, wings drooping, lying there, seeming a little uncomfortable; after a very long time, it slowly stopped moving, as if it was about to fall asleep.
A few minutes later, the little phoenix tilted its entire body and fell straight down from the top of the wardrobe.
Zhou Hui sprang up like lightning, instantly disappearing from the bed and appearing in mid-air, catching the little phoenix with a “thud!”
His movements were so swift yet gentle that when he returned to the bed the next second, the little phoenix hadn’t fully woken up.
“…Chirp chirp…” The little phoenix chirped uncomfortably twice, adjusting to a more comfortable position in Zhou Hui’s hand—curling its belly, burying its head in the downy feathers on its chest, its fluffy little bottom naturally sticking up under its tail feathers; it stayed in this somewhat strange posture, whimpering for a while, and then fell asleep again.
Zhou Hui: “…”
Zhou Hui carefully sniffed the little phoenix, and measured its body temperature by placing a finger on its feathers, finding that its temperature was a bit high. Could it be sick?
If it was sick, then it was really troublesome.
Ancient divine birds certainly wouldn’t get sick. If it was sick, then something more serious must have happened, and being sick was merely an external manifestation. There were no records in the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths on how to treat an ancient divine beast if it fell ill. Zhou Hui couldn’t even determine if this slight increase in body temperature was indeed an illness, or a normal physiological characteristic of the Phoenix as a fiery bird.
Zhou Hui didn’t close his eyes that entire night, staring unblinkingly at the little phoenix, realizing that it truly wasn’t sleeping well. In the middle of the night, it was still trembling slightly while curled up on the pillow. When he woke up the next morning, the little phoenix was listless, refused to drink milk, and only pecked at the mineral water twice without much interest before turning its head away.
Zhou Hui was fairly certain it was sick, but where?
For a whole day, the little phoenix stayed curled up in Zhou Hui’s pocket, but it refused Zhou Hui’s caresses and closeness, and wouldn’t even peek out when it encountered Jia Louluo at the Special Affairs Office. Li Hu, Zhang Shun, and Shenwan Tiansi took turns visiting the little phoenix, but none of them could offer any explanation, all at a loss.
That evening, Zhou Hui took the little phoenix home and tried to use a warm towel to wipe its feathers, but the little phoenix immediately avoided him: “Chirp chirp!”
“Are you uncomfortable somewhere?”
“Chirp!”
“…If you don’t like the human world, shall we go back to Buzhou Mountain?”
Zhou Hui took a step forward, and the little phoenix immediately warily shrank into the sink: “Chirp chirp chirp!”
Zhou Hui looked down at the little bird, suddenly noticing a strange posture—it seemed to be constantly curling its small belly.
Zhou Hui keenly remembered it had been like this since last night; it even curled its magnificent tail feathers under its belly while sleeping, instead of spreading them out on the soft, large pillow as usual. Could it be an upset stomach? Caught a chill?
A chill in such a small chick was no laughing matter. Zhou Hui reached out to touch the little bird’s belly. But as soon as the little phoenix detected his intention, it immediately turned and jumped up, flapping its wings and flying outwards. In its haste, it bumped its head against the door frame with a thud and fell down dizzy.
Zhou Hui rushed forward, grabbed the chick in his hand, and without a word, went to touch its fluffy abdomen. The little phoenix was almost in tears of rage, struggling desperately in Zhou Hui’s palm. However, it couldn’t resist that Zhou Hui was indeed several thousand years older than its current body. Zhou Hui simply pried its body open and rubbed its belly back and forth several times, then suddenly noticed an unusual sensation.
—There was a faint, hard, thumb-sized spherical object inside its belly.
Zhou Hui thought he had felt wrong, but then the sensation became clearer and clearer, and he finally confirmed that there was indeed a foreign object in the little phoenix’s belly.
Zhou Hui’s head boomed, countless ominous conjectures flashing through his mind, his face instantly turning ashen: “What’s going on? When did it grow out?”
The little phoenix flapped its tail and flew out, wobbling to the bed, burying its head in the covers.
The next second, Zhou Hui grabbed it by the nape of its neck: “What exactly is going on? Does it hurt? Or did you eat something strange?!”
The little phoenix’s expression was like that of a revolutionary martyr; no matter how Zhou Hui interrogated it, it just kept its mouth tightly shut, not uttering a single syllable. If pushed too hard, it would close its eyes and play dead. If pushed even further, it would fiercely peck Zhou Hui’s hand when he wasn’t paying attention, making Zhou Hui flinch and almost drop it.
“Little Phoenix!” Zhou Hui raised his hand as if to strike, threatening sternly: “Did you eat something strange! Speak, I know you understand!”
It was impossible for something to grow inside its body in such a short time; it must have been eaten. If the little phoenix confessed, things would be much simpler, otherwise, Yu Fu would have to send someone to give it an X-ray to see if it was a glass marble or some other strange thing.
“Show me what you ate, now!” Zhou Hui said sternly: “If you don’t speak, I’ll lock you in a cage, no going out for walks! And I won’t hug you anymore!”
“Chirp chirp chirp!” The little phoenix immediately burst into anger, looking ready for an argument: “Chirp chirp! Chirp!—Chirp chirp chirp!” Then it flapped a wing on Zhou Hui’s head.
“…” Zhou Hui’s mind buzzed, forcing himself to calm down, but he couldn’t.
Could he induce vomiting? How do you induce vomiting in a bird? What adverse reactions would such a small chick have after inducing vomiting?
If he found a human doctor, the medicine prescribed wouldn’t be suitable for a phoenix, would it? Its diet already required considerable attention. What if the medicine was more poisonous than what it had eaten?
The little phoenix was Zhou Hui’s life. He couldn’t imagine what would happen if something happened to the little phoenix. If it were to undergo nirvana again, would it have such good luck to hatch quickly once more? Would it still be so affectionate towards him after hatching?
Even taking a step back, even if nirvana was easy and hatching went smoothly, Zhou Hui absolutely couldn’t bear to see the little phoenix die before his eyes, its cries becoming faint until they disappeared, its feathers gradually losing their luster, and its warm little body slowly stiffening.
—At this point, Zhou Hui’s rationality had been pushed to its limit. He skipped over all other possibilities and went straight to the worst, most irreversible outcome. He felt cold all over, pacing back and forth in the bedroom, and finally thought of the most direct method at hand: physical induced vomiting!
He had to make the little phoenix throw up the object. First, he had to figure out what it had eaten!
Zhou Hui, with trembling hands, called Yu Jingzhong and told him to immediately send a doctor to X-ray the little phoenix. Yu Jingzhong was startled and asked two questions, but before he could get a clear answer, Zhou Hui slammed down the phone.
The little phoenix lay weakly in the quilt. Zhou Hui picked it up and asked one last time: “What exactly did you eat?”
The little phoenix glared back at him indignantly, holding its little belly with its wings.
“Next time you eat something behind my back, see if I don’t beat you!” Zhou Hui said viciously, flipping the little phoenix onto the bed and forcibly prying its wings open, then began to forcefully rub its belly.
“Chirp chirp—! Chirp! Chirp! Chirp!” The little phoenix desperately resisted, flapping its wings, rolling, and screaming under Zhou Hui’s large hands, spitting out balls of fire that burned fist-sized holes in the bedsheets. Zhou Hui’s hands were also scorched red and blistered. With a jolt of pain, his fingers loosened, and the little phoenix immediately flew several meters away, tears streaming, stopping on the windowsill and screaming with all its might: “Chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp—!!!”
The sound was full of blood and tears, grating to the ear. Zhou Hui subconsciously covered his ears, staring at it anxiously and angrily. Just as he was about to go grab it and continue inducing vomiting, a thought suddenly flashed through his mind.
—When did the little phoenix start acting abnormally? Yesterday, when he went to shower.
In other words, even if it ate something strange, it ate it at home, and most likely in the bedroom!
What was in the bedroom?
Zhou Hui frowned and began to think, trying his best to calm himself from the immense anxiety. That thumb-sized, hard, round sphere, only in the bedroom… Could it be…
Zhou Hui was practically incredulous. He turned and yanked open the nightstand drawer.
Sure enough, the glass jar was empty; the refrigerated phoenix eyeball was gone.
Zhou Hui stood stunned for a long time, then turned to look at the little phoenix, almost not knowing what expression to use to face this.
However, the next moment, all his thoughts vanished, and he was instantly almost scared out of his wits—
The little phoenix’s angry chirps gradually turned into cries of pain. Its feathers bristled, standing up one by one, golden-red and dazzling like a burning flame. Smoke began to rise from its head, gradually spreading over its entire body. A few seconds later, flames suddenly erupted from its feathers, instantly enveloping the little phoenix in a ball of fire!
“Phoenix!” Zhou Hui roared, losing his voice: “Phoenix! Phoenix! Don’t be like this! Don’t leave!”
Zhou Hui lunged forward, trying to grab the ball of fire with trembling hands, but he couldn’t grasp anything except getting severely burned.
The fireball rolled from the windowsill to the floor, tumbling and flapping back and forth. Strangely, despite the high temperature, it didn’t burn any of the carpet or furniture. Zhou Hui was almost insane. He watched as the little phoenix’s shape within the flames seemed to rapidly change and lengthen. He didn’t know how much time had passed; it felt like only a few seconds, yet also like centuries. Finally, the flames “boom!” exploded, then abruptly extinguished.
The scorching heat vanished into thin air.
On the carpet, the little phoenix had disappeared into thin air, replaced by a child of five or six years old.
Zhou Hui stood there, almost unable to move due to extreme shock.
The child was small, completely white as jade and snow, with damp hair clinging to his tender, snow-white cheeks. His eyes were as black as if they held water. He looked around tremblingly, his gaze full of timidity and bewilderment, and finally looked at Zhou Hui cautiously and warily.
“…” Zhou Hui trembled: “Phoenix…”
His voice carried a strange tremor, sounding hoarse and peculiar, even a little terrifying. However, his eyes were filled with an emotion that was difficult to witness without feeling sad, as if, the next moment, they would overflow from his eye sockets.
Zhou Hui walked in front of the little phoenix, knelt down, and extended his hand towards him.
Zhou Hui’s fingers were long, his knuckles prominent, his palms drenched with sweat, and the web between his thumb and forefinger and the back of his hand still bore lingering, not fully faded scars. From any angle, they were not hands that one would naturally feel inclined to approach.
But when he slightly stretched his five fingers and opened his palm to the little phoenix, this gesture was so unguarded yet steadfast that, in a trance, it conveyed a feeling of immense security and reliability.
“…” The little phoenix examined him seriously for a long time, then finally cautiously extended a hand and grasped one of Zhou Hui’s index fingers.
“…Ma?” he asked, tilting his head in confusion.
Zhou Hui scooped him up and hugged him tightly.
It was a hug without distance, intimately fervent, as if even their bones and blood would merge, as if they would be one from then on, never to be separated. The little phoenix’s head rested on Zhou Hui’s shoulder, initially feeling a little unaccustomed, but soon seemed to find a familiar scent that brought him peace of mind. He returned the embrace, wrapping his hands around Zhou Hui’s strong neck.
“Zhou… Zhou…” he said, mumbling indistinctly through gritted teeth.
Zhou Hui made no sound, his entire body tensed, only his shoulders strangely trembling.
“Zhou… Hui…”
The little phoenix finally managed to utter the complete syllables. He giggled, and then kissed Zhou Hui’s ear with a smack.
