Chapter 92

Bai Zihao resolved to live a secluded life, keeping a low profile to avoid trouble.

He observed for a few days, then arranged for the villagers to deliver daily necessities every seven days. After that, he kept to himself, spending his days by the window, listening to the children next door recite their lessons, often sitting there the entire day. At night, he would fetch water from the well and prepare simple meals in the kitchen, determined not to cause any trouble...

It was ironic—he used to spend every day thinking about how to serve Jin Feiren, a task that wore him out. Now, in this quietude, he felt strangely unsettled, a sense of emptiness. He didn't know what to do and sometimes felt lonely. When loneliness struck, he couldn’t help but dwell on many things, many people, and before long, he would find himself crying again.

Bai Zihao’s loneliness didn't last long. Kong Muhua from next door constantly sought him out. Whenever he showed disinterest, Kong Muhua would pout and cry, tears falling like pear blossoms in spring rain, looking utterly pitiful. Unable to bear the sight of a little girl crying, Bai Zihao inexplicably found himself doing many strange things.

Kong Muhua: "Zihao-gege, your yard is full of weeds. Let’s clear them and plant grapes!"

After refusing once, Bai Zihao ended up pulling out the weeds, constructing a grape arbor, and even hanging a swing beneath it.

Kong Muhua: "Zihao-gege, your yard is so big! Let’s dig a pond—we can see our reflections in the water!"

After refusing twice, Bai Zihao researched how to excavate a pond and even planted two red lotus flowers in it.

Kong Muhua: "Zihao-gege, I want to embroider a handkerchief with crabapple flowers. Can you draw me a pattern?"

After refusing three times, Bai Zihao finally took out paper and brushes, sitting at his desk to draft several patterns for her to choose from. He had diligently studied music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, but everyone said he lacked talent—his paintings were too rigid, his calligraphy lacked vigor, his chess moves were too passive. Only his zither skills were passable, with correct fingering, but lacking emotional depth...

"I’m not good at drawing," Bai Zihao laid down his brush, examining the crabapple he had sketched, and apologized, "This isn't my strong suit. If you don’t like it, just discard it. It’s fine..."

He had never done anything to earn Jin Feiren’s approval. His mind was slow, always making mistakes. Aside from his beauty and body, he had nothing to offer. Jin Feiren, with his exalted position, had deigned to choose him—a useless man—as his Dao Companion, dissolving the Pleasure Seal and feeding him precious youth-preserving pills to maintain his figure and looks. He should have been grateful...

"Huh?" Kong Muhua looked up in surprise, holding the drawings and studying them carefully before exclaiming in disbelief, "You draw so well! They're particularly lovely—I think it’s even better than Master Wu’s paintings! I’ll take them home and embroider them carefully to make a dress."

Bai Zihao blushed at the praise. "Don’t talk nonsense, or people will laugh at you. You haven’t seen Master Wu’s *Hundred Ghosts Scroll*—it’s bold and breathtaking, absolutely masterful..."

Kong Muhua carefully stored the crabapple drawing and said seriously, "Of course I’ve seen Master Wu’s works. They’re all just sloppy ink blots—dark, formless smudges. His *Peacock Subduing Demons* painting? The peacock’s eyes bug out like copper coins—so ugly! If he weren’t already long dead, I’d... But your crabapple is beautiful. I’ll embroider it on my dress and never tire of looking at it."

*Peacock Subduing Demons* was Master Wu’s masterpiece, its original lost to the ages, with many imitations and forgeries in circulation.

Bai Zihao thought Kong Muhua had never studied painting and couldn’t appreciate its subtleties—she must have seen a poor-quality fake in a shop and thus thought his work was good. Still, her genuine praise made him happy. His neat, precise style was suitable for embroidery patterns, and since he was alone at home, he needed something to occupy his mind and stave off loneliness. So in his spare time, he began sketching various flowers and birds.

Kong Muhua praised each one, exhausting every compliment in the book. But when she saw the crane painting, she suddenly sulked. "Zihao-gege, why don’t you draw peacocks? Do you not like them?"

Bai Zihao explained, "I love peacocks spreading their tails—their plumage is resplendent, their bearing regal. But they’re difficult to paint. Without a real one to observe, I wouldn’t dare attempt it."

Kong Muhua’s ears turned slightly red at this, and after fidgeting for a while, she asked shyly, "So... you like watching them spread their tails?"

Bai Zihao was perplexed. "Yes, I do."

Kong Muhua thought for a moment, then grinned. "There’s a Mirror Lake in the southern mountains—very scenic. I’ve seen peacocks there before. You should go relax. Maybe you’ll meet a beautiful peacock who’ll dance and spread its tail for you."

The southern mountains weren’t far, seldom visited, and now carpeted with wildflowers—perfect for sketching and gathering inspiration. He could even pick fruits or mushrooms. As a peak Foundation Establishment cultivator, he had no fear of wild beasts or snakes. The trip wouldn’t take long.

After much persuasion, Bai Zihao considered it for two days before finally giving in and setting off.

Mirror Lake was a mountain lake, its surface still as a mirror, reflecting the blue sky and white clouds. Lush greenery surrounded it, butterflies flitted about, and rabbits popped up their long ears—everywhere burst with the energy of spring.

The beautiful scenery lifted Bai Zihao’s spirits. He sat casually on the grass, unpacked his painting supplies, and began sketching the egrets and cranes drinking by the lake. At first, his strokes were hesitant, but remembering that no one would criticize him, his brushwork gradually grew freer and more unrestrained.

Suddenly, the cranes and egrets took to the air.

A rare golden peacock descended from the sky, landing by the lake. It shook its wings before the reflection, meticulously preening its golden, rainbow-hued plumage, then turned and unfurled its magnificent tail before Bai Zihao. The vast, shimmering tail fan shimmered with iridescent eyespots, radiant under the bright sun.

It trembled its tail, stepping lightly as it danced by the lake in captivating movements.

Even in the Golden Phoenix Manor, where rare spirit beasts gathered, such a breathtaking peacock had never appeared.

Bai Zihao held his breath, afraid to startle this celestial being. He quickly sketched the peacock’s dance, sheet after sheet. Fortunately, the golden peacock lingered for a long time, only spreading its wings and flying away once he had finished.

The encounter was as beautiful as a dream.

He returned home excitedly, then settled down to paint with full concentration. He specialized in *gongbi* style—requiring painstaking detail, layers of ink washes, drying between each application. After dozens of layers, the peacock’s form emerged in rich detail. Then came the colors, applied with the same patience, before finally outlining in gold and dotting the eyes with jet-black ink.

Half a year later, he completed a glorious peacock portrait. Though still far from the masters, it was his most satisfying work yet. Kong Muhua often dropped by to admire its progress, praising it repeatedly, her eyes shining with anticipation. When it was finished, she spun around delightedly, like a peacock showing off.

A beloved piece should go to someone who appreciates it.

Bai Zihao gifted the painting to Kong Muhua as thanks for her company.

Kong Muhua was overjoyed, nearly forgetting decorum as she almost hugged and kissed him.

Bai Zihao quickly stopped her. He realized they had grown too close. Though the village seemed free of gossip, he needed to prevent misunderstandings. He should have disclosed his marital status long ago, but... he was too ashamed to admit he hadn’t taken a wife but had instead been the one to marry. So he hedged, "I’m actually a cultivator. I already have a Dao Companion. I must remain chaste."

Kong Muhua studied him for a long moment before suddenly smiling. "You’re lying. I’ve heard cultivators who form Dao bonds have Dao Companion Marks. Show me, and then I’ll believe you!"

Reluctantly, Bai Zihao tugged his collar slightly, revealing a dark red three-petal lozenge mark on his collarbone before quickly covering it again.

Kong Muhua’s expression darkened the moment she saw it.

In the cultivation world, Dao Companion Marks varied. Proper marriages used soul or body marks that neither party could remove. Only when taking a low-status Dao Companion would someone use this lozenge mark. If Jin Feiren formed a new bond with someone else using a higher-grade mark, Bai Zihao would be demoted to concubine status.

Bai Zihao knew what the lozenge symbolized, but he hadn’t dared to ask for more. Jin Feiren had said it was already difficult enough to convince the Nascent Soul elders to accept him. Besides, he enjoyed submitting—shamelessly so. The slightest touch from a man stirred desire in him, even rough treatment... If he hadn’t married Jin Feiren, who would tolerate such a debased spouse?

These humiliating truths were too painful to voice.

But Kong Muhua understood. Furious, he nearly flared his tail feathers, deciding to fly back to Indestructible Peak that night to disrupt the Divine Lord’s entertainment—perhaps add a scorpion pit or ant torture to that scum’s suffering. He’d also complain to the Divine Lord: why make him play a child? It was so inconvenient when he wanted to use seduction to cuckold the bastard.

Not wanting to burden others with his emotions, Bai Zihao smiled. "You’re still young. You wouldn’t understand."

Kong Muhua puffed his cheeks. "I’m not that young." (He was a thousand-year-old peacock spirit, after all.)

Bai Zihao sat back down to paint, still gentle but with a faint distance.

Kong Muhua circled him a few times but found no opening to wheedle, so he left obediently. He disappeared for several days, returning satisfied and presenting Bai Zihao with a golden peacock feather.

Bai Zihao was stunned.

Kong Muhua grinned. "I found it a long time ago. It’s for you—to thank you for the painting."

Bai Zihao hesitated, but at the first hint of refusal, tears welled up in Kong Muhua’s eyes again, so he accepted.

Kong Muhua whispered mysteriously, "It’s very precious. You must take good care of it."

Bai Zihao smiled. "I’ll treasure it."

"If you like it, I’ll give you the whole peacock to hug while you sleep. Its beautiful tail can be your blanket—very comfortable," Kong Muhua leaned in suddenly, his voice low and sultry by Bai Zihao’s ear, his eyes suddenly mature, his red lips exuding allure. "And it can dance for you every day, spreading its tail..."

Bai Zihao’s ears burned, his heartbeat quickening as he hastily retreated.

But Kong Muhua had already sat back, playing with the red string on his braid, his face once again the picture of childish innocence, as if he understood nothing.

Bai Zihao rubbed his eyes, wondering if he’d imagined it.

Had his time at Golden Phoenix Manor corrupted him? Had those beasts rubbed off on him?