The red bead shimmered on the lotus-shaped stand. The little phoenix stared in a daze, a few hazy, instinctual thoughts flashing through its small mind.
What is this? Why is it so familiar?
Is it another bird’s… egg?
The little phoenix’s intelligence had not yet awakened, and it lacked clear reasoning abilities. But the powerful, scorching divinity of an adult phoenix immediately overwhelmed all its senses, and even the depths of its soul couldn’t help but tremble.
It instinctively identified this feeling as danger.
Zhou Hui must have hidden this here behind my back.
The little phoenix glanced guiltily towards the bathroom. Zhou Hui’s singing, distorted by the sound of the water, had a piercing quality, and he seemed completely unaware of the activity in the bedroom.
After a moment’s hesitation, the little phoenix turned its head back, 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 took the red bead into its mouth.
·
Humming, Zhou Hui came out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel. He was stark naked, and water droplets still lingered on his strong six-pack abs, glistening in the dim bedroom.
He first habitually glanced at the bedside table. The milk cup was there, but the space beside it was empty. There was no little phoenix.
Looking up, he saw the little phoenix huddled on top of the wardrobe, almost touching the ceiling.
“Chirp chirp, come down,” Zhou Hui gestured with his hand. “Come down and I’ll dry your feathers. 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, its tail feathers curled under its belly. The little bird looked like a round, fluffy ball.
“Chirp chirp?” Zhou Hui found it a bit strange. He 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 he’s shy? No way, even if his intelligence is developing quickly, it can’t be that fast. Zhou Hui, full of doubt, went back to the bathroom to get dressed. When he came out again, he stood under the wardrobe and looked up, calling, “Come down, little phoenix! I’ll take you out for something good to eat!”
This time, the little phoenix twisted its body and directly showed him its butt.
“…” Only then did Zhou Hui truly feel puzzled. But no matter how he coaxed, how he tricked, or how he promised to take it out to play and eat, the little phoenix ignored him.
Chu He only gave him the silent treatment when he was truly angry. If he were to equate the little phoenix’s behavior, Chu He’s anger level should have reached the standard of when Zhou Hui trained the young and ignorant roc to catch a frisbee, or when he tied the little peacock to a pole and made it drag the ground with its tail feathers.
Zhou Hui stood under the wardrobe, coaxing for a long time. Finally, unable to do anything else, he moved a chair and climbed up. He saw the little phoenix huddled in the innermost corner, its small belly curled up, looking at the ceiling with a very wronged expression.
“…What on earth is wrong?”
Zhou Hui was utterly perplexed. He reached out to hold it, but the little phoenix immediately lowered its head threateningly, its expression saying, “If you reach out your hand, I’ll peck you.”
Could it be that his rebellious phase has arrived?
Thinking this, Zhou Hui surveyed the room, his gaze falling on the half-finished cup of milk. He thought perhaps the milk didn’t taste good or the temperature was too hot, which had angered the little phoenix. He went over to taste it but found nothing wrong.
…No way, is it really a rebellious phase? Zhou Hui was even more baffled.
For a full hour after that, Zhou Hui tried but failed to coax the little phoenix down from the wardrobe. If he tried to forcibly hold it, the little phoenix would start chirping loudly, shrinking into the corner and threatening to breathe fire. In the end, Zhou Hui gave up, having no choice but to let it stay up there and wait for it to calm down and come down on its own.
However, the little phoenix’s anger didn’t subside for the entire evening.
When the lights were turned off for the night, Zhou Hui lay on the bed, seemingly asleep with his eyes closed, but in the darkness, all his senses were focused on the top of the wardrobe. He could feel the little phoenix was listless, lying there with its wings drooping, looking a little uncomfortable. After a very long time, it slowly stopped moving, as if it were about to fall asleep.
A few minutes later, the entire bird tilted and fell straight down from the top of the wardrobe.
Zhou Hui shot up like lightning, instantly disappearing from the bed and appearing in mid-air to catch the little phoenix with a smack!
His movements were so swift and gentle that by the time he was back on the bed the next second, the little phoenix had not yet fully woken up.
“…Chirp chirp…” the little phoenix called out uncomfortably twice, adjusting to a more comfortable position in Zhou Hui’s hand—belly curled, head buried in the downy feathers of its chest, its small, fluffy butt naturally sticking up under its tail feathers. In this slightly odd position, it whimpered for a while and fell asleep again.
Zhou Hui: “…”
Zhou Hui carefully sniffed the little phoenix and checked its temperature by placing his fingers against its feathers. He found that the little phoenix’s temperature was a bit high. Could it be sick?
If it was sick, that would be real trouble.
An ancient divine bird would certainly not get sick. If it was sick, it must be because a more serious problem had occurred; the sickness was just an external manifestation. There were no records in all the nine heavens and ten earths on how to treat an ancient divine beast if it fell ill. Zhou Hui couldn’t even be sure if this slight increase in temperature was indeed a sickness or a normal physiological characteristic of a phoenix as a fiery bird.
Zhou Hui didn’t close his eyes for the entire night, staring at the little phoenix without blinking. He found that it was indeed not sleeping well, even trembling slightly while curled up on the pillow in the middle of the night. The next morning when he woke up, the little phoenix was listless. It refused to drink milk and only took a couple of unenthusiastic pecks at mineral water before turning its head away and not moving.
Zhou Hui was basically certain it was sick, but sick with what?
For the entire day, the little phoenix stayed curled up in Zhou Hui’s pocket but refused his touch and affection. When it encountered Jia Louluo at the Special Division, it refused to show its head. Li Hu, Zhang Shun, and Shenwan Tiansi took turns visiting the little phoenix, but none could figure out what was wrong, and all were at a loss.
That evening, Zhou Hui brought the little phoenix home. He wanted to wipe its feathers with a hot towel, but the little phoenix immediately dodged. “Chirp chirp!”
“Are you uncomfortable somewhere?”
“Chirp!”
“…If you don’t like the human world, shall we go back to Mount Buzhou?”
Zhou Hui took half a step forward, and the little phoenix immediately shrank back into the washbasin vigilantly. “Chirp chirp Chirp!”
Zhou Hui looked down at the little bird, and suddenly noticed its posture was very strange. It seemed to be constantly curling its small belly.
Zhou Hui keenly remembered it had been like this since last night. Even when sleeping, it had tucked its beautiful tail feathers under its belly instead of spreading them out on the soft, large pillow as it normally would. Could its stomach be uncomfortable? Did it catch a cold?
For such a small bird to catch a cold was no joke. Zhou Hui reached out to touch the little bird’s belly. But as soon as the little phoenix realized his intention, it immediately turned and jumped up, flapping its wings and flying outwards. In its panic, it crashed headfirst into the doorframe with a thud and fell down dizzily.
Zhou Hui lunged forward, grabbed the little bird in his hand, and without another word, went to feel its fluffy abdomen. The little phoenix was on the verge of tears from anger, struggling desperately in Zhou Hui’s palm. However, it couldn’t resist Zhou Hui, who was indeed thousands of years older than its current body. He directly parted its body and felt its belly a few times, and suddenly noticed the texture was wrong.
—There was a faint, hard, thumb-sized round ball in its belly.
Zhou Hui thought he had felt it wrong, but then the sensation became clearer and clearer. He finally confirmed that there was indeed a foreign object in the little phoenix’s belly.
Zhou Hui’s head buzzed. Countless ominous speculations flashed through his mind, and his face instantly turned ashen. “What’s going on? When did this grow?”
The little phoenix flapped its tail feathers and flew out, wobbling onto the bed and burying its head in the quilt.
The next second, Zhou Hui grabbed it by the scruff of its neck. “What on earth is going on? Does it hurt? Or did you eat something you shouldn’t have?!”
The little phoenix’s expression was like that of a revolutionary martyr. No matter how Zhou Hui interrogated it, it just kept its mouth shut and didn’t utter a single syllable. When pressed, it would close its eyes and play dead. When pressed further, it would take advantage of Zhou Hui’s inattention and peck his hand fiercely, making Zhou Hui flinch and almost throw it.
“Little phoenix!” Zhou Hui raised his hand as if to hit it, threatening sternly, “Did you eat something you shouldn’t have! Speak, I know you can understand!”
It was impossible for something to grow inside its body in such a short time, so it must have been something it ate. If the little phoenix confessed on its own, things would be much simpler. Otherwise, he would have to ask Deputy Yu to send someone to give it an X-ray to see if it was a glass marble or some other random thing inside.
“Show me what you ate, now!” Zhou Hui said sternly. “If you don’t talk, I’ll lock you in a cage, no more walks outside! And I won’t hold you anymore!”
“Chirp chirp, chirp!” The little phoenix immediately flared up with anger, looking like it was about to start an argument. “Chirp chirp! Chirp!—Chirp chirp, chirp!” Then it slapped Zhou Hui on the head with a wing.
“…” Zhou Hui’s head was buzzing. He forced himself to calm down, but he couldn’t no matter what.
Could I induce vomiting? How do you induce vomiting in a bird? What adverse reactions would such a small chick have after vomiting?
If I find a human doctor, the medicine they prescribe won’t be suitable for a phoenix, right? It’s already very particular about its diet. What if the medicine is more toxic than what it ate?
The little phoenix was Zhou Hui’s life. He couldn’t imagine what he would do if something happened to the little phoenix. If it went through nirvana again, would he be so lucky as to have it hatch quickly again? After hatching, would it still be so close to him?
Taking ten thousand steps back, even if nirvana were easy and the hatching smooth, Zhou Hui absolutely couldn’t bear to see the little phoenix die in front of him, its cries weakening until they disappeared, its feathers losing their luster bit by bit, its small, warm body slowly stiffening.
—At this moment, Zhou Hui’s rationality was stretched to its limit. He skipped over all other possibilities and went straight to the worst, most irreversible consequence. He felt a chill all over his body. After pacing back and forth in the bedroom a few times, he finally thought of the most direct method at hand: physical emesis!
He had to make the little phoenix vomit the thing out. First, he had to figure out what it had eaten!
With trembling hands, Zhou Hui called Yu Jingzhong, telling him to immediately send a doctor over to take an X-ray of the little phoenix. Yu Jingzhong was shocked and asked a couple of questions, but before he could get a clear answer, Zhou Hui hung up with a click.
The little phoenix lay listlessly on the quilt. Zhou Hui grabbed it and asked one last time, “What on earth did you eat?”
The little phoenix glared back at him resentfully, its wings hugging its small belly.
“Next time you eat things behind my back, see if I don’t beat you!” Zhou Hui said viciously. He turned the little phoenix over on the bed, forcibly pulled its wings apart, and then began to knead its stomach forcefully.
“Chirp chirp—! Chirp! Chirp! Chirp!” The little phoenix struggled desperately, flapping its wings under Zhou Hui’s large hands, rolling, and screaming. It spat out balls of fire, burning fist-sized holes in the bedsheet. Zhou Hui’s hand was also scorched red and blistered. Under the intense pain, his fingers loosened, and the little phoenix immediately flew several meters away in tears, landing on the windowsill and screaming its accusation with all its might, “Chirp chirp Chirp chirp Chirp chirp chirp—!!!”
The sound was filled with blood and tears, piercing to the ear. Zhou Hui subconsciously covered his ears, staring at it, both anxious and angry. Just as he was about to go over and grab it to continue inducing vomiting, a flash of inspiration struck his mind.
—When did the little phoenix start acting abnormally? Yesterday, when he went to take a shower.
Which meant that even if it had eaten something it shouldn’t have, it had eaten it at home, and the most likely place was in the bedroom!
What was in the bedroom?
Zhou Hui frowned and began to think, trying his best to calm himself from his immense anxiety. That thumb-sized, round, hard sphere… in the bedroom, there was only… could it be…
Zhou Hui could hardly believe it. He turned and yanked open the bedside table drawer.
Sure enough, the glass jar was empty. The cryopreserved Phoenix Eye was gone.
Zhou Hui stood there stunned for a long while, then turned to look at the little phoenix, almost not knowing what expression to make about this.
However, the next moment, all his thoughts vanished, and he was almost scared out of his wits—
He saw the little phoenix’s angry cries gradually change to ones of pain. Its feathers all puffed up, each plume standing on end, so golden and red it was like a burning flame. Smoke began to rise from the top of its head, gradually spreading to its whole body. A few seconds later, flames suddenly erupted from its feathers, instantly engulfing the little phoenix in a fireball!
“Phoenix!” Zhou Hui roared, his voice breaking. “Phoenix! Phoenix! Don’t do this! Don’t go!”
Zhou Hui rushed over, trying to grab the fireball with trembling hands, but apart from being severely burned, he couldn’t grab anything at all.
The fireball rolled from the windowsill to the floor, tumbling and flapping back and forth. Strangely, the high temperature did not burn any of the carpet or furniture. Zhou Hui was on the verge of going crazy. He watched helplessly as the little phoenix’s shape in the flames seemed to be rapidly changing, elongating. He didn’t know how much time had passed; it seemed like only a few seconds, yet also as long as several centuries. Finally, the flames erupted with a BOOM! and then were abruptly extinguished.
The scorching heat dissipated.
On the carpet, the little phoenix had vanished. In its place was, shockingly, a child of five or six years old.
Zhou Hui stood there, almost unable to move from excessive shock.
He saw that the child was small, his whole body as white as jade and snow. His sideburns were wet and stuck to his tender, snow-white cheeks. His eyes were as black as if they were holding water. He tremblingly raised his head to look around, his gaze filled with timidity and confusion, finally looking at Zhou Hui cautiously and vigilantly.
“…” Zhou Hui trembled, “Phoenix…”
His voice carried a strange tremor, sounding hoarse and bizarre, even a little scary. Yet his eyes were filled with an emotion that was painful to see, as if they were about to overflow at any moment.
Zhou Hui walked in front of the little phoenix, knelt down, and held out his hand to him.
Zhou Hui’s fingers were long, his knuckles prominent. His palm was soaked with sweat, and the scars on the web of his thumb and the back of his hand had not completely faded. From any angle, they were not hands that one would feel close to at first sight.
But when he slightly spread his five fingers and opened his palm to the little phoenix, the gesture was so unguarded yet so firm that in a trance, it gave a very reassuring and dependable feeling.
“…” The little phoenix studied him seriously for a long while, then finally, carefully, reached out and grabbed one of Zhou Hui’s index fingers.
“…Ma?” he asked, tilting his head in confusion.
Zhou Hui swept him up and held him tightly in his arms.
It was an embrace with no distance, tight and scorching, as if even their bones and blood would fuse together, as if from then on they would be one and never be separated. The little phoenix’s head rested on Zhou Hui’s shoulder. It was a little uncomfortable at first, but soon it seemed to find a familiar scent that put it at ease, and it wrapped its arms around Zhou Hui’s strong neck in return.
“Zhou… Zhou…” he said, gritting his teeth, his words slurred.
Zhou Hui made no sound, his whole body tensed, only his shoulders were shaking strangely.
“Zhou… Hui…”
The little phoenix finally managed to form the complete syllables. He giggled and lowered his head to plant a loud kiss on Zhou Hui’s ear.
