Yan Lanyu’s eighteenth birthday was finally going to be celebrated.
Xiao Yan had always been very low-key since joining the Special Department, not saying an extra word or taking an extra step, silently doing his own work. Yu Jingzhong only found out his birthday from his file and wanted to gather everyone for a good party, but it was repeatedly delayed due to the large-scale invasion of the Demon tribe into the Human Realm Monument, followed by the Phoenix’s Nirvana and other events.
Now, Zhou Hui had finally returned from the Hell’s Buzhou Mountain, the little phoenix had also shapeshifted, and even Zhang Shun and Jia Louluo were in the Human Realm. It could be said that they were gathered together like never before. As the Chinese New Year approached, Deputy Yu finally decided to embezzle public funds, hoping to use this opportunity to gather everyone for a birthday celebration and a New Year’s Eve countdown.
Everyone agreed enthusiastically. Li Hu, hanging on Zhang Shun’s arm, asked, “But the little beauty’s birthday isn’t today, is it? Is that okay?”
“His birthday on the file is the day he was picked up by the Esoteric Sect when he was little, so it’s fake anyway,” Deputy Yu said while checking the prices of New Year’s Eve at a suburban hot spring hotel on his phone. “It’s fine, from now on his birthday will be New Year’s Eve. Remind me to change his file later.”
Zhang Shun and Li Hu exchanged glances. The former whispered, “Why do I feel like Deputy Yu is getting less and less timid lately…”
“I don’t know, maybe he’s going all out now that he’s even using public funds for food and drink,” Li Hu whispered. “I heard Zhou Hui say that Deputy Yu wanted to get the party expenses reimbursed by the unit and hesitated for half a month, going back and forth. When he finally made up his mind, he was completely transformed, as if he had been reborn… Maybe Deputy Yu will transform into a corrupt official from now on. The small step he takes today is a big step for the entire Special Department towards the dark abyss of corruption and public fund abuse in the future.”
Zhang Shun nodded in agreement repeatedly. Beside them, Wu Bei, Hou San, Shenwan Tiansi, and others looked impatient.
Yu Jingzhong finally settled on a hot spring resort in the suburbs of Beijing. He booked several private courtyards through acquaintances and took everyone out for dinner, hot springs, and fireworks, waiting for the New Year’s Eve Gala and the New Year.
The crowd eagerly requested to participate, singing praises and unanimously stating that Deputy Yu was becoming more and more manly. If this continued, his domineering aura would soon surpass Zhou Hui’s.
As the New Year approached, supernatural incidents across the country gradually decreased. Most team members were idle, spending their days wandering between offices with teacups, chatting. Comrade Wu, the Soul Poet from the North, brought several large sacks of specialties from Northeast China to Beijing, distributing deer antler and ginseng extensively in the Special Department. That afternoon, the entire building was transformed into a sea of joy.
Situ Yingzhi and Li Hu went shopping together. Li Hu bought seven or eight new swimsuits for this hot spring trip. Many female team members expressed after seeing them that Group Leader Li’s taste was extraordinary, but sharing a changing room with Group Leader Li felt a bit off, as if something was strange.
Yan Lanyu received countless birthday wishes, something unprecedented in the first seventeen years of his life, making him feel flattered to the point of extreme embarrassment. This reached its peak when Jia Louluo gave him his birthday gift—Jia Louluo was perennially broke, not as generous as Hou San or Wu Bei. After thinking for a long time about what to give, he pulled out a brilliant golden feather from his own original body. The Great Golden-Winged Peng Bird’s enormous feather was almost as tall as a person. Little Yan almost vomited blood from exhaustion trying to carry it back to the office. Placed behind the door, it was dazzlingly bright, blinding countless people’s titanium alloy dog eyes.
Amidst everyone’s lively atmosphere, only Zhou Hui seemed a little reclusive.
Because Phoenix still showed no signs of waking up, and during this period, he had “burned” twice.
The first time was when Zhou Hui was feeding him water; golden-red flames suddenly surged out of his seven orifices, instantly enveloping his entire body, and then suddenly extinguished after several minutes. The second time was in the middle of the night; the brightness of the flames abruptly woke Zhou Hui from his sleep. He opened his eyes to see the little phoenix had actually fallen off the bed, then staggered to his feet, stumbling towards the door.
Zhou Hui lunged forward. He saw the little phoenix’s face, obscured by the flames, was vaguely contorted in a chillingly spastic expression—it was entirely an adult’s expression, making it even more terrifying on a child’s face. Zhou Hui didn’t know what he was dreaming about, he could only try his best to stop him from wandering outside. After the little phoenix struggled silently for a long time, he lost consciousness after being chopped on the back of his neck.
After these two episodes, Phoenix’s body grew rapidly, now roughly the size of a thirteen- or fourteen-year-old child. His bones began to show the distinct characteristics of his adult form before Nirvana: hollow, light, and extremely hard, making his body very light.
His features gradually shed their babyish tenderness, subtly revealing the contours of his former self. His eyes were tightly closed, and his skin was pale, making him appear thin and tired.
Zhou Hui didn’t know when the next “burning” would occur. All of Phoenix’s growth processes were random; even if he had made secret arrangements before Nirvana, no one knew what his plan was or at what pace it would unfold.
He was just that kind of person: when he lost enough trust, he would say nothing, burying all his schemes and secrets in the long expanse of time.
Zhou Hui didn’t know what to do; all he could do was wait.
Zhou Hui initially didn’t want to go to the hot springs for New Year’s Eve. Later, a group of people took turns strongly persuading him to go. Deputy Yu even specially booked a honeymoon suite so that the little phoenix could rest quietly, which finally made Zhou Hui relent.
On the day itself, several cars drove grandly to the hot spring hotel, and the conditions were quite good. The room’s balcony faced a huge artificial garden and a golf course. The garden also had saunas, spas, and massage chairs, with stone paths leading to hot spring pools hidden by bamboo groves. After getting their room cards, everyone dispersed in a flurry. Some went to play mahjong, some played Three Kingdoms Kill, some went for a spa, and some plopped into the hot springs like dumplings. Deputy Yu and Jia Louluo together carried a three-tiered cake into the courtyard, preparing to cut it after dinner while watching fireworks.
The little phoenix enjoyed special treatment, sharing a couple’s suite with Zhou Hui. Zhou Hui carried him into the room and saw the large bed sprinkled with red rose petals, and white towels folded into the shape of entwined swans, looking very romantic under the lights. He couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh.
“Bringing up what shouldn’t be mentioned…” He sighed and gently placed the little phoenix on the bed.
The little phoenix’s forehead rested against Zhou Hui’s palm, appearing very docile, his temples contrasting with his snow-white cheeks, even giving him a slightly pitiful look.
Even an ancient divine bird in human form couldn’t avoid growing pains. As his bones rapidly matured, pain in his joints and other areas constantly tormented him. Even though he couldn’t speak, he often showed expressions of pain and distress in his sleep.
Zhou Hui would sometimes wake up in the dead of night to massage him, gently smoothing the wrinkles on his brow, then leaning down to press a tender, enduring kiss.
“Come back soon…” he murmured softly, gently rubbing his nose against the little phoenix’s cold, delicate cheek. “Even if you’re always mine, you can’t truly make someone wait forever.”
The little phoenix perhaps felt something in his sleep and sensitively drew back his head.
Zhou Hui looked at him and suddenly noticed a subtle, shy smile appearing at the corner of his lips. Then he buried his face in the pillow, as if he was secretly having a wonderful dream.
—He had slept for so long, and this was the first time he had shown an expression of happiness instead of pain.
Zhou Hui couldn’t help but be stunned.
Dinner was eaten in the glass conservatory in the garden. Yu Jingzhong, along with several group leaders and unofficial personnel like Yan Lanyu, Zhang Shun, and Jia Louluo, like they hadn’t had a publicly funded meal in eight hundred years, proceeded to get each other drunk. Li Hu almost climbed onto the table to perform a striptease, but Zhang Shun swung a plate and knocked him down in mid-air with a splat, sending him under the table.
Jia Louluo was calm as ever, sitting at the table playing with his phone. He suddenly raised his camera and snapped a photo of the little phoenix in Zhou Hui’s arms.
Zhou Hui immediately sensitively pulled the little phoenix behind him. “What are you doing?”
Jia Louluo didn’t answer, lowering his head to send a WeChat message. Zhou Hui’s mouth twitched immediately when he saw the recipient’s avatar: a resplendent peacock looking up at the sky with heroic spirit.
“Maha wants to see what Mother looks like after shapeshifting,” Jia Louluo explained. “If I don’t show him, he might come to the human world for New Year’s Eve dinner, and you wouldn’t want that, would you?”
Zhou Hui: “…”
After dinner, everyone started cutting the cake, surrounding Yan Lanyu and singing “Happy Birthday,” clamoring for him to make three wishes and say them out loud. Yan Lanyu was quite embarrassed, blushing for a long time before making his first wish: that every year be like this moment, every year like today, with blooming flowers, a full moon, and people always together.
Li Hu said, “Tsk—I don’t understand! Something simpler! Do you want me to sing ‘Eighteen Touches’ for you?”
Situ Yingzhi, tipsy, slurred, “Little beauty doesn’t understand, tell Old Yu to pay every year, and let’s all get high…”
Yu Jingzhong, without a word, slapped Li Hu and Situ each under the table, where they stayed for a long time.
“The second… the second wish is for the hotel discount,” Yan Lanyu hesitated, “I don’t know how much it will cost tonight. It’s not good to spend too much on a publicly funded meal…”
Everyone immediately started booing, rubbing their fists, and wanting to go talk life with the hotel owner. But when they stood up, they were all so dizzy from drinking that they agreed to go tomorrow, on the first day of the New Year, after they sobered up, and continued to press for the third wish.
“There really aren’t any more,” Yan Lanyu said helplessly. “I don’t have many wishes, this is pretty good… No, no! Don’t make me drink that! Can I think about it and tell you later? No, I really can’t drink anymore!”
Yan Lanyu threw down the knife, covered his head, and tried to run, but was immediately caught by Shen Wan and Li Hu and forced to tremblingly cut the cake. Then a bunch of drunkards came up, forcing drinks, grabbing cake. Everyone wanted the “Happy Birthday” chocolate tag on the cake, but Yu Jingzhong slapped each of them back. In the end, the chocolate tag and candied strawberries went to the birthday boy.
Li Hu wanted the candied strawberries but didn’t get them. He expressed his dissatisfaction by declaring he would make the birthday boy drink three big glasses. Yan Lanyu frantically escaped the crowd and happened to hide next to the little phoenix. He saw the little phoenix’s mouth slightly open in his sleep, and casually picked up half a strawberry to feed him.
“Can he eat it?”
Zhou Hui glanced at it, nodded, and said, “He can, feed him smaller pieces.”
In his sleep, the little phoenix subconsciously chewed a couple of times, then swallowed after a while, smacking his lips.
Yan Lanyu found it amusing and gently rested the little phoenix’s head on his shoulder, feeding him another small piece. He watched him chew muzzily and swallow, his lips slightly red from eating, as if stained.
This scene was actually very cute, but for some reason, Yan Lanyu suddenly remembered the first time he saw Chu He, when he shot that earth-shattering arrow at Peacock Mingwang in the grotto; and later, when he revealed his true form in Beijing, his gentle, dignified, and lofty demeanor.
He suddenly felt a little sad.
“—If my third wish was for His Highness Mingwang to wake up today, could it come true?”
Yan Lanyu mumbled to himself, then suddenly felt that the idea of making a birthday wish and hoping it would come true was very childish. He found himself genuinely emotional and couldn’t help but shake his head and smile.
What he didn’t notice was that the moment he made his third wish, the little phoenix’s eyelashes trembled.
…Wake up?
Wake up?
…So I haven’t woken up… yet?
Phoenix’s fingers twitched, but in the noisy environment, no one could see it clearly. It was almost twelve o’clock, and many people were moving benches into the garden to watch the fireworks. The countdown sounded in the distance.
Zhou Hui stood up, picked up the little phoenix and put him on his shoulder, saying, “It’s cold, I’ll take him back first.”
He walked through the stumbling drunk crowd, carefully stepping over the scattered cups, plates, and cream on the ground, passed through the garden, and walked towards the covered corridor. In the distant sky, the first burst of fireworks suddenly rose, cutting through the night sky like a meteor, then exploding into brilliant, colorful light, reflecting on the little phoenix’s sleeping face.
…So bright, Phoenix thought.
He squinted his eyes in a daze, unable to distinguish whether he was in reality or a dream. He only saw the majestic Buzhou Mountain of Hell beneath his feet, and then the boundless sky in front of him suddenly burst into flames, instantly burning the nine heavens and ten lands into a dazzling sea of fire.
“Are you going to kill me too?!” Sakyamuni’s furious roar echoed in his ears, “—Do you want me to die too?!”
Only then did Phoenix realize he was holding the Buddha Bone Blade, facing Sakyamuni’s enraged face. In the distance, Zhou Hui was desperately rushing towards him, heedless of the raging fire. The entire Buzhou Mountain burned into a towering golden pagoda in the flames of Nirvana.
“If you don’t die, none of this will end. The chaos and conflict will continue…”
“Goodbye, Sakyamuni.”
Phoenix tightened his grip, and the blade pierced Sakyamuni’s throat.
—Blood gushed out. At that instant, the swirling wind suddenly stilled, and then time and space wildly fast-forwarded.
Images from countless parallel worlds were completely mixed together, forming thousands of Phoenix’s silhouettes—young, lonely, crying, pleading, standing on the city wall gazing expectantly, desperately reaching out to Zhou Hui on Buzhou Mountain…
Swirling, mottled colors converged into a torrent, all reflected in Phoenix’s eyes.
The next moment, Sakyamuni screamed and departed. A golden Buddha statue rose from the Buddha bones, towering over a thousand-zhang sea of lotus fire, gazing at Phoenix from afar.
“I’m going back…” the Buddha said.
Phoenix heard nothing, as if all the world’s noise had turned into a silent tide, receding from his ears.
“Thank you, Phoenix, for all these years.” The Buddha’s young face, belonging to Zhang Shun, showed loneliness: “You are going to Nirvana. It will be hard to meet again in the future. Do you have any last wishes? If you want the Peacock Godhead…”
“No,” Phoenix interrupted hoarsely, “I don’t need that now.”
Phoenix looked back at Zhou Hui, even such a simple movement was extremely difficult due to his severe injuries and weakness.
In the solidified time and space, Zhou Hui stood still, his furious, anxious gaze also fixed on him, shimmering in the sea of fire.
“After Nirvana, I want my first sight to be the right person…” Phoenix gasped: “I want to be nurtured by that person peacefully, to be taken care of, carefree, even if only for a day…”
Even if only for a day.
Please don’t let the person I love wait too long. Just one day, and I will try my best to rush back to his side.
The Golden Buddha followed Phoenix’s gaze to Zhou Hui in the distance, sighed, and said, “Alright.”
As the word fell, Phoenix revealed a weary smile and slowly closed his eyes. The frozen wind around him instantly blew wildly again, time and space returned to normal, and the great fire swept upwards; Zhou Hui rushed madly through layers of smoke and clouds towards him, not even noticing that his sleeves and hem were burning.
Phoenix heard Zhou Hui’s extremely furious roar. He could feel his body being swallowed by the Nirvana fire little by little.
Goodbye, my Zhou Hui.
Please let me see you the first moment I open my eyes again. Please let me wake up peacefully under your gaze.
If you wait just one day, it will be enough to repay my tens of thousands of years of hope and waiting in this life.
The next second.
Time and space shifted, the Human Realm, Chu He’s office. The little phoenix opened the drawer containing “Bao Shi Zi.” The phantom of the adult phoenix walked out from the opened diary, leaned down, facing his younger self, and gently wiped away the little phoenix’s tears: “Your wish has come true…” he said.
“You can go home now.”
—Finally, I can go home.
In the garden, the New Year countdown reached its final moment. The hands of the clock reset to zero, and fireworks filled the sky.
Countless layers of colorful light exploded in the sky. Cheers echoed through the heavens, converging into a torrent rushing towards the land of China.
Zhou Hui stopped by the railing of the covered corridor, looking at the splendid and magnificent fireworks in the sky. Suddenly, he felt a stir in his arms. He looked down to see the little phoenix open his eyes, then close them tightly due to the sudden brightness. After a while, he opened them again and blinked a few times.
“Zhou Hui…” he said softly.
Zhou Hui could hardly believe his eyes, for a moment he thought he had misheard. But then he watched as the little phoenix smiled. Although the smile was still a little pale and weak, a familiar expression shimmered in his eyes.
“Thank you… for always waiting for me.”
Phoenix paused, and the fireworks in the sky reflected a gentle, watery glimmer in his eyes: “—I’m back. Happy New Year.”
Zhou Hui’s throat was sore and choked, his shoulders strangely trembling, and his vision was blurry. In the haze, he held Phoenix tightly, opening his mouth several times but unable to utter a single word. In his ears, only the distant, roaring cheers of the crowd celebrating the New Year could be heard.
At that moment, the fiery trees and silver flowers, the peaceful and prosperous scene, all turned into silence, receding into the distant faintness of the night sky.
“I thought I’d have to wait much longer…”
Zhou Hui closed his eyes, and hot liquid slid down his cheeks.
He lowered his head and pressed a trembling kiss on Phoenix’s temples: “…Welcome back, my dear Highness.”
Behind their embracing figures, old years swirled up, carrying countless past loves and hates, gun smoke, tears, and partings, converging into a river rushing into the distance, disappearing into the vast and boundless sky.
The fireworks faded, and all was quiet.
The New Year’s bell chimed at that moment.
