A phoenix rests only on the wutong tree, eats only bamboo seeds, and drinks only from sweet springs.
Zhou Hui only learned after arriving in Luminous Heaven that this was not absolute. The above were habits exclusive to the Phoenix’s true form; when in his human Dharma-form, he only needed cleanliness and to avoid the smell of blood and gore.
However, cleanliness and avoiding the smell of blood and gore were fundamentally impossible in the Sea of Blood of Hell. Therefore, Phoenix had not touched a drop of water on Mount Buzhou. Fortunately, his need for food and drink was so minimal as to be almost non-existent, so no problems had ever arisen.
Outside the Luminous Heaven Palace was the vast, void-like land. The wind swept across the plains, carrying a desolate air as it rushed towards the horizon. Standing on a mound, one could see the horizon at a glance. At the junction of heaven and earth, a continuous cyan light of Luminous shimmered. When the sun set and the moon rose, auroras would linger, an exceptionally magnificent and beautiful sight.
There were many spectacular landscapes in the Thirty-Three Heavens, but they were all hidden in the desolate and uninhabited places outside the various heavenly palaces. Zhou Hui had also seen the sights of Mount Sumeru through a water mirror. His deepest impression was of giant, mountain-like buildings rising and falling in endless succession, carved from gold and jade, decorated with ivory. Even the fountains gushed with crushed jade. It was the epitome of solemnity and splendor.
He had once wondered if Phoenix would be more accustomed to the luxurious environment of such a temple. However, Phoenix seemed very much at ease in the small cabin he had built in the wilderness.
Zhou Hui had built a house similar to the small wooden courtyard on Mount Buzhou, surrounded by a stone wall. Phoenix had planted a circle of fiery red Asura flowers at the base of the wall, seeds he had brought from Hell.
On Mount Buzhou, Zhou Hui hadn’t thought at all that he liked those flowers. It wasn’t until after the cabin was built and he saw Phoenix silently take out a handful of seeds from his pocket that he suddenly realized Phoenix was not completely oblivious to his surroundings.
Luminous Heaven was at the lowest level of the Thirty-Three Heavens, bordering Hell. Zhou Hui would go to Hell every day to hunt, while Phoenix stayed at home. At first, Zhou Hui was afraid that something would happen if he left his sight, but after so long, the heavenly retribution had not struck. In addition, the area was desolate for a hundred li around; not to mention fierce beasts, there wasn’t even an insect. It was truly a land of void and silence, so he had put his mind at ease.
—However, facts proved that Zhou Hui had let his guard down too early.
One day not long after, Phoenix had just woken up when Zhou Hui left. His sealed six senses had not fully reconnected; only his seventh Manas consciousness remained. He sat in a daze in the lonely courtyard under the gloomy sky. The Snow Mountain Goddess, Shakti, glimpsed this scene through a cloud mirror. A thought stirred in her, and she secretly descended from Mount Sumeru and came to this remote little courtyard.
Her original intention might not have been to assassinate Phoenix, but rather to maliciously tease him. Even though he was a King of Proven Merit, his status was not as revered as the five great esoteric Wisdom Kings. But Phoenix was also an ancient divine bird, whose jade embryo had been born before Mount Sumeru existed. Killing Phoenix would definitely incur heavenly retribution.
But when she discovered that Phoenix, with his six senses sealed, was truly like a string puppet, doing whatever he was told without a shred of resistance, a malicious thought suddenly sprouted in her heart.
—It is said that a phoenix cannot die. What if he really just undergoes nirvana?
What if, after nirvana, he really forgets everything from his past life?
If that were the case, Zhou Hui’s enraged and devastated face would surely be interesting to see.
Thinking this, Shakti took out a poisoned dagger and, as if possessed, handed it to Phoenix.
Phoenix’s sole seventh consciousness was completely unable to distinguish between good and evil. He obediently took it and looked quietly at Shakti.
In that moment, Shakti flinched, but soon jealousy and malice overcame her fear. She leaned close to Phoenix’s ear and whispered, “Go on, plunge the dagger in your hand into your own heart… Let me see, will you undergo nirvana, or will you really die?”
Phoenix lowered his eyes, looked at the blade’s edge, his expression wooden and vacant. After a long moment, he slowly turned the tip of the blade towards himself.
Shakti took half a step back, her gaze filled with a trace of appreciation and anticipation. The next moment, the tip of the dagger pierced the skin of his chest. Golden-red blood instantly soaked through his clothes.
—The thing Zhou Hui was most thankful for later was that on that day, a sudden palpitation of fear struck his heart in Hell. He immediately returned home and, in the nick of time, burst through the door and snatched the dagger from Phoenix’s hand.
Shakti vanished in a flash, intending to flee, but Zhou Hui, in a fit of rage, lost all reason and stabbed her in the neck with a backhand strike.
In that instant, the sky spun, the earth collapsed, and Shakti screamed as she flew back. Countless giant bolts of lightning struck down from the sky above them!
The heavenly retribution actually struck two people—Shakti, for attempting to murder an ancient divine bird, and Zhou Hui, for harming the Snow Mountain Goddess. However, Phoenix’s sealed six senses exploded amidst the waterfall of lightning. In a flash, he threw himself on top of Zhou Hui, and the moment the ground-reaching lightning touched his back, it stopped abruptly, dissipating into nothingness.
Shakti was not so lucky. The heavenly retribution destroyed her divinity, casting the Snow Mountain Goddess directly into the six paths of reincarnation.
Although Zhou Hui was a hell demon who had cultivated a human form in defiance of heaven, that was also his first time witnessing a lightning tribulation. Though it was nothing compared to the future heavenly punishment of the Peacock Wisdom King, where ten-thousand-ren glaciers turned to dust and vast plains collapsed with a roar, at the time, it was shocking enough.
Amidst the millions of rolling thunders, Phoenix pressed down on him tightly. The golden-red phoenix blood from his chest stained Zhou Hui’s body, and then the blood sank into Zhou Hui’s body, as if completely absorbed by a sponge, leaving not a single trace behind.
Then, Zhou Hui felt an extremely hot energy sweep through his four limbs and hundred bones, causing him to let out a pained roar amidst the lightning that was so bright it was impossible to open one’s eyes.
At the end of the lightning tribulation, Zhou Hui lost consciousness. When he awoke, he was lying on the crisscrossed, cracked ground. Phoenix was sitting not far away in the charred wooden ruins, reaching out, as if to touch a small red flower emerging from a crack.
Perhaps catching sight of Zhou Hui’s movement from the corner of his eye, he withdrew his hand and asked, “You’re awake?”
Zhou Hui sat up, stunned to find that he had no injuries at all. His sea of qi seemed to hold an unprecedented, immense power, latent like a beast waiting to strike.
“What happened to me…”
“Shakti has gone to be reincarnated,” Phoenix said, averting his eyes, not answering his question.
Zhou Hui scrambled up, stumbling from dizziness. He swayed as he walked to Phoenix, knelt on the scorched and smoking earth before him, and looked at his slightly evasive gaze. “What are you thinking?”
“…Nothing.”
Zhou Hui took his hand and saw that the wound on his heart had already healed, but his chest was still stained with blood.
“What are you really thinking?” Zhou Hui repeated, his voice full of gentle earnestness.
Phoenix lowered his eyes. From Zhou Hui’s angle, he could see his long, thick eyelashes, and his clear eyes that showed no emotion at all.
“…The courtyard is gone…” he finally said softly after a long time.
His voice was not simply sad, but seemed a little lost. Yet it was like an invisible hand suddenly clutching his heart, making Zhou Hui’s breath catch.
“Let’s leave Luminous Heaven,” Phoenix said. “I want to go to the Realm of Chaos, to a place with no people…”
The Realm of Chaos was a void region outside the six paths. It had no living creatures and no inhabitants. If one had to describe it, it was somewhat similar to the Formless Heaven where the Buddha existed, but the void was filled with tidal waves formed by the collapse of space-time and countless spatial fragments carried within them.
Zhou Hui took Phoenix and lived in the Realm of Chaos for several hundred years.
That was actually the most peaceful and comfortable time in Phoenix’s life. It was just him and Zhou Hui. The day-to-day routine almost made him forget the fear of loss. Even the various threats and shadows represented by the name Sakyamuni seemed to gradually dissipate with the passage of time, leaving only inconspicuous black dust in the corners.
They would sometimes go to the Sea of Blood together, and sometimes they would wander the human realm. They walked through the mortal world’s wind-blown sands and smoke of war, and witnessed the various fascinations and joys of the red dust. No matter where they were, they were always close together, giving the fleeting illusion of an everlasting “happily ever after”.
No more news came from Mount Sumeru, and Zhou Hui did not provoke the Heavenly Dao. It seemed to be a case of ‘well water not interfering with river water’.
In his view, the Heavenly Dao probably intended to shelve the matter of the Phoenix Wisdom King, waiting for him, a hell demon, to reach the end of his life. Then Phoenix would naturally return to Mount Sumeru. This period of a thousand years or so would become a slightly unexpected episode in the long life of a celestial being, gradually fading with time, and eventually becoming a minor, insignificant anecdote in the history of the Heavenly Dao.
To Zhou Hui, although it was a little sad, it did seem to be the case.
—Until one day, Phoenix became pregnant and gave birth to the Peacock Maha, who was granted the title of Wisdom King upon landing.
Maha’s birth was the first time Zhou Hui entered a Buddhist hall through the main gate. It was also the first time this untamable hell demon knelt before a Buddha to chant sutras, kneeling for a full seven days and seven nights.
However, it was of no use. The moment the Peacock was born, his eyes opened to reflect Phoenix’s death omen.
Zhou Hui did not tell Phoenix this—because Phoenix showed an unprecedented, immense joy at the birth of his eldest son. He had never seen Phoenix react to anything with such intensity. The emotion was so heartfelt and overwhelming that Zhou Hui was completely unable to utter a single word of the truth in front of Phoenix’s weak but happy face.
Perhaps the Buddha’s prophecy will not come true, he consoled himself in vain.
—Perhaps this child can grow up smoothly, in peace and joy, and not disappoint the hopeful happiness Phoenix feels for him today.
However, cruel reality soon dealt Zhou Hui a heavy blow.
Maha was by nature evil and jealous. Out of jealousy for the Buddha Bone, he went to the Thirty-Three Heavens and swallowed the Buddha’s body, which brought upon him the most severe heavenly retribution in the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths on the golden peak of the snowy mountain.
Phoenix had a mental breakdown. He desperately wanted to go up and rescue his child from the battlefield of clashing lightning, but Zhou Hui knew it was almost impossible. He used eighty-one demonic seals to tightly restrain Phoenix. However, on the last of the billion lightning bolts, Phoenix still broke free by force and, at the cost of burning his own true form to ashes, saved Maha’s last breath.
Phoenix was critically injured and near death. Zhou Hui took him to Mount Buzhou in Hell and, in front of the cliff where they had first lived, built a small wooden cabin identical to the one from thousands of years ago. The courtyard was filled with fiery red Asura flowers, and he placed Phoenix inside to recuperate.
What was different from back then was that this time, with the small courtyard as the center, he placed countless prohibition spells within a thousand-li radius, tightly imprisoning the unconscious Phoenix, leaving no room for escape.
Phoenix hates him now, he knew.
He had seen how much Phoenix had loved his two children. When Maha and Jia Louluo (Garuda) were still little bird chicks, Phoenix would often transform into his true form, wrapping the two little birds in his long tail feathers, gently preening their feathers and playing with them, sometimes for several days on end.
When the little chicks were asleep, he would maintain that posture, watching them with tender affection, unwilling to even look away for a moment.
—If Phoenix’s companionship and loyalty to Zhou Hui still held a hint of cautious probing and careful reservation, then when faced with his two young chicks, who were still uncertain if they could be raised successfully, the way he eagerly poured out all his emotions, as if his entire life depended on them, was like a sacrifice.
That sacrificial posture sometimes made even Zhou Hui feel a secret sense of alarm.
He had secretly worried about what would happen if the children were gone one day. Would Phoenix have a mental breakdown and be unable to live? However, this conjecture was too terrifying to be pursued deeply.
Only now, with his eldest son almost dead and his second son abducted to the snowy mountains of Tibet with no news, did he realize that this terrible event would eventually come.
Phoenix hated him for standing by and doing nothing for his children. Even if he returned to a state of superficial calm with the passage of time, that hatred would leave a shadow in the deepest part of his heart, never to disappear.
Sometimes, when Zhou Hui watched Phoenix sitting there quietly alone, not moving or speaking for a whole day, submissive yet indifferent to external stimuli, an indescribable sadness would rise from the bottom of his heart.
Had Phoenix ever been happy?
Truly carefree, content, feeling safe and happy?
Phoenix recuperated for several years before he could barely walk. Zhou Hui took him to secluded scenic spots in the human realm to live in seclusion, and also removed the thousands of prohibition spells, spending every day and night with him, never leaving his side, just like before their two children were born.
However, this could only temporarily alleviate the situation and could not truly solve the problem.
As Phoenix’s serious injuries failed to heal, he seemed to become more and more averse to being “alone,” even to the point of fear. So Zhou Hui tried his best not to leave him, ensuring that they could always be within each other’s line of sight, no matter where they were. Several times, when he turned back in a crowd, he could see Phoenix’s gaze following him. Only when he saw him turn back would Phoenix let out an almost imperceptible sigh of relief.
Sometimes Zhou Hui would cross the crowd to take his hand and ask with a smile, “Miss me?”
Phoenix never answered.
Only once, when they returned to Mount Buzhou in Hell from the human realm, Phoenix stood on the cliff, looking at the boundless, churning Sea of Blood below, and suddenly turned to ask seriously, “Zhou Hui.”
“Hmm?”
“Will you leave this place one day?”
Zhou Hui was stunned, not knowing why he had suddenly asked this. When he reacted, he immediately replied, “No, I will never abandon you—what’s wrong?”
Phoenix shook his head and turned away, not speaking.
However, Zhou Hui soon found out why he had suddenly asked this question.
—Because one night, Phoenix suddenly disappeared.
To this day, Zhou Hui doesn’t know how Phoenix, who was still weak and not fully recovered, managed to avoid his senses, struggle to leave Hell and return to the Heavenly Dao, cross the blizzard-swept plains, climb Mount Sumeru step by step, and once again walk into the highest Buddhist hall that he had not set foot in for thousands of years.
Phoenix stood in the middle of the vast, empty Buddhist hall, took off the Buddha bone strung on a red thread from his neck, held it out with one hand, his eyes filled with despair and a final gamble. “I’ll give you back the Buddha bone. You give me back Maha’s life, can you?”
—In the Formless Heaven, there was an instant of silence. All was still.
The Phoenix Wisdom King, who had not returned for a thousand years, had, upon his return, severed ties with the Buddha.
Author’s note:
Strictly speaking, the hierarchy of Wisdom Kings is Trailokyavijaya > Peacock > Phoenix. However, the Phoenix’s jade embryo was formed even before the twin Sāla trees, so he is of ancient seniority. His residence in a forbidden land that ordinary people cannot enter is not only because of Sakyamuni’s deliberate arrangement, but also because of the transcendent status of an ancient divine bird.
I thought the flashback/reveal part would end in this chapter, but it seems it will only end in the next… After that, it’s fighting monsters and leveling up, the end of the campaign, and then domestic healing, emotional harmony, and the conclusion. I haven’t decided whether to add a third child, a little daughter. Even if I do, it might be in an extra chapter. Ah, should I or shouldn’t I? I originally hadn’t thought of a third child at all…
