Chapter Seventy-Four: Lady Blossom

The deer spirit had originally intended to go over and greet him, to become acquainted, but upon reflection, felt it might be too forward. Suddenly, it noticed the green snake hanging from the tree—a species identical to the snake demons in the mountains. Glancing at An Youyu, who was enraptured by the landscape, the deer spirit immediately devised a plan.

“I had planned to take my time, eliminating the snake demons from their lair one by one, as long as it was done discreetly. But with this unforeseen turn, the snake demons must now be on guard against me, forcing my hand. The dragon vein disappeared for years, only to end up on An Youyu; he cannot blame me for what happens next. This time, An Youyu will have to bear the brunt.”

The deer spirit grabbed the snake’s head in the tree, ignoring its struggles, and quietly approached An Youyu.

An Youyu had just released another creature today, feeling a profound sense of satisfaction. He climbed to a high ground beneath Blade Mountain, surveying the distance from above, his spirits soaring. Suddenly, he felt a cold sensation upon his neck, as though something had landed there. Reaching up, he discovered a snake, let out a sharp scream, and flung it away. Yet the snake twisted in midair and flew back toward him. Terrified, An Youyu stumbled backward, stepped off the edge, and fell from the cliff.

At that moment, a figure emerged from behind a nearby stone—the deer spirit named Zhang Xiangzi—who nodded in satisfaction at his handiwork. He took a paper crane from his bosom, whispered something to it, and tossed it into the air. The paper crane hovered around him before flying down into the valley, gradually vanishing from sight. After a moment's thought, he made another paper crane, spoke a few words, and threw it down as well. Pleased, the deer spirit nodded, humming a tune, hands clasped behind his back, strolling leisurely down the mountain.

An Youyu saw a gargantuan green snake, its head as large as a cloak, exuding a scent mingled with blood and snake musk. Panicked, he retreated two steps, forgetting the cliff behind him—though not high, it was steep enough. He slipped, fell, and tumbled down. His struggles availed him nothing, but fortune favored him: a few pine branches slowed his descent, and he rolled to the valley floor, his head striking a weathered rock. The rock crumbled to dust, and An Youyu, lacking any martial prowess or protection, fell unconscious.

He lay bloodied, his clothes torn, appearing pitiful, yet his breathing remained steady.

…

Below the valley stood a small courtyard, surrounded by a woven fence. In the center, a patch of earth a few yards wide was planted with young vegetables—the soil new, not yet seasoned by years of cultivation, likely sown only a month or two ago.

In front of the garden were three small huts, thatched with straw. From the doorframe hung many baskets and small items woven from vines, all exquisitely crafted.

In an adjacent room, a graceful, dignified woman was tending to her medicinal herbs. Her skin was like jade, her attire simple yet immaculate, and her slender, delicate hands danced deftly among the herbs, as lively as a sprite. Her movements were skilled, yet her hands bore no calluses.

She was the deer spirit’s daughter, Hua Guzi, herself a spirit of the fragrant musk deer.

Just then, a paper crane flew in through the door. She exclaimed in surprise, “A message by paper crane!”

---

The woman immediately recognized her father’s paper crane. She, her father, and her aunt had been here for over two months, always nearby and never far from the valley, so they had never needed such a distant communication method. She wondered if her father was entangled in something.

Extending her hand, the paper crane landed in her palm. She infused it with her spiritual sense, carefully reading the message inside, then hurried out of the room, calling, “Aunt, come quickly, we must save someone!”

“What’s the matter, young lady?” came a reply from another room. A plainly dressed woman emerged, looking at Hua Guzi in confusion.

This woman, Zhang Sangu, was the deer spirit’s trusted confidant, related by blood. Though called his sister, she was actually his subordinate; steadfastly loyal, she always obeyed him. That was why she had been brought along on this rare occasion. Even though Hua Guzi called her 'aunt,' she never addressed Hua Guzi by name, always referring to her as 'young lady,' mindful of her status, which allowed her to follow the deer spirit for a century.

Hua Guzi summarized the contents of her father’s message. “Father had a mishap during his cultivation, causing his spiritual power to temporarily disappear, and he was captured by local hunters.”

Zhang Sangu, ever attuned to her master’s concerns, listened anxiously, knowing more explanation would follow.

“Fortunately, Father encountered a benefactor who bought him and set him free. Later, this benefactor was wandering the mountain and met the snake demon. Father wished to rescue him but his powers had not yet recovered. The benefactor fell from the cliff into this valley. Father sent a paper crane, instructing us to save him at all costs.

Let’s hurry—any delay may endanger him.”

“Very well, let us go at once,” Zhang Sangu replied.

To save a life was urgent; every second counted. The two sped deep into the valley, searching carefully along the way, leaving no place unchecked for fear of missing something. As they neared the deepest part of the valley, Hua Guzi grew anxious. The message only mentioned a fall into the valley, with no details of location or distinguishing features.

A fall from the mountain might be trivial for a cultivator, but for an ordinary person—even from a low cliff—injuries or blood loss could be fatal if they were not found soon.

Zhang Sangu, meanwhile, appeared to search but was calmly comparing the surroundings. When Hua Guzi received her father’s message, Zhang Sangu had received one as well, with exact directions. She had no idea what her elder brother was plotting, nor did she ask; she simply followed instructions, never questioning anything else.

Suddenly, she saw a spot very similar to what was described in the message, and a thought struck her. She called to Hua Guzi, who was searching ahead, “Young lady.”

Hua Guzi turned toward Zhang Sangu, listening as she continued, “Let’s split up. That way, we’ll find him faster without wasting time.”

Hua Guzi agreed, her nature inclined to kindness and humility. She pointed to the more complex path, “I’ll take this side.” Then, indicating the simpler path, she added, “Aunt, you go that way.”

---

Zhang Sangu thought to herself, just as expected. With her understanding of Hua Guzi, she knew Hua Guzi would choose the more difficult, tangled path, always thinking of others first. She pointed to the complicated route, suggesting, “How about I take this way? When you finish searching, you can help me.”

Hua Guzi, consumed with the urgency of finding the person, instinctively believed he was on the complex path. Since it was hard to traverse and her cultivation was superior, she replied, “Aunt, let me take this side. I’m stronger and can search faster. Let’s split up quickly.”

“Very well, young lady,” Zhang Sangu answered. She had intended for Hua Guzi to take that path; if she refused, Zhang Sangu would have persuaded her. But it was easier if Hua Guzi chose for herself, guided gently by her temperament.

With their roles decided, they set off along their respective routes. Zhang Sangu walked for a while, glanced back at Hua Guzi searching diligently, and breathed out in relief, thinking, “In a moment, Hua Guzi will surely find him. Then I’ll simply assist.”

Zhang Sangu feigned a thorough search, moving quietly.

Meanwhile, Hua Guzi meticulously searched the tangled terrain for An Youyu’s traces, leaving no stone unturned, not even the stone caves among the rocks. Just as she pushed through a thicket, she spotted something on the ground.

Closer inspection revealed a person, his clothes tattered and bloodied. Hua Guzi hastened over. Examining his wounds, she found only superficial scrapes from branches and stones, except for a large bump on his forehead; the rest was unharmed. From the description her father provided, Hua Guzi confirmed this was her father’s rescuer, An Youyu.

She breathed a sigh of relief and called out to Zhang Sangu in the distance, “Aunt, I’ve found him! He’s here!”

Zhang Sangu, pretending to search, heard Hua Guzi’s call, thinking, “It’s done.”

She turned and flew toward Hua Guzi, traversing dozens of yards in just a few breaths.

Arriving at Hua Guzi’s side, she looked at the battered but breathing An Youyu. Though his injuries looked severe, none were life-threatening. He would likely awaken in time, but it was best to move him before he woke, to fit her elder brother’s plan. She said to Hua Guzi, “Young lady, we must get him back quickly. We can check him thoroughly at home; hidden injuries could be serious.”

Hua Guzi had only glanced at his wounds; she had not thoroughly checked. Falling from above could not have been pleasant. If hidden injuries remained, it would trouble her father’s heart. She nodded in agreement.

With a wave of her hand, An Youyu floated up. Hua Guzi took his hand to steady him for the journey and said to Zhang Sangu, “Let’s go home first.”

With that, she flew toward the courtyard, carrying An Youyu. Zhang Sangu watched, nodded in satisfaction, and leapt to follow.