Chapter 119

Birth, aging, sickness, death, resentment, fear, jealousy, greed, ignorance, separation from loved ones, unfulfilled desires...

The world nurtures all things, yet life is fraught with suffering. Demons are born from suffering, undying and unceasing.

Noble thoughts ascend to become gods; corrupt thoughts descend into demons.

Fortunately, though all things are born in darkness, what they seek is light.

In the many battles between gods and demons, the gods have always emerged victorious, driving the demons back and sealing them within the confined abyss of darkness. Yet the demons never relent, ceaselessly seeking ways to influence various worlds, releasing the pain and shadows trapped in human hearts, turning good thoughts into wicked ones, inciting sin and war, ultimately transforming the world into a twisted, blood-drenched hell.

If the World Tree is corrupted, small worlds will become dark hells, spawning more villains. Once these worlds mature and fall into the starry river, the demons will grow infinitely, spreading like a plague to all worlds. The latent darkness in every heart will be awakened, devouring the light endlessly, and the gods will fall completely, vanishing forever.

The Phoenix God remained unconscious for as long as the Heavenly Emperor had been worried...

He had sent every possible god who might awaken the Phoenix God to try, yet a demon-corrupted heart could not be roused by external force—it had to awaken on its own. Every god who returned from the small worlds wore grim expressions; their failures were crushing. Most chose to seal away their memories of those worlds, unwilling to recall them, fearing they might succumb to demonic influence...

Not long ago, General An Long finally returned from the small world, no longer fighting it.

The Heavenly Emperor held great hope for An Long, for he was the Phoenix God’s closest friend, having guarded the demonic seals for years. Forged with a warrior’s soul, resolute and fearless, his willpower was among the strongest in the divine realm. He particularly loved battle; his mind held no sentiment. In his free time, he would challenge the Phoenix God to spar, honing their skills, with victories and defeats shared between them. Once, he had beaten the Phoenix God’s beautiful face until it was covered with wounds, even knocking free several of his glorious feathers. The gods looked on in dismay, pleading with him, but he sneered:

"Wu Huan is a man—why fuss over appearances? He’s torn plenty of my scales too, and I never complained!"

"A man’s face is unimportant—strength is what matters."

"I’ll never waste my time on something as absurd as a Dao Companion."

"That useless Wu Huan couldn’t even see through such illusions. I’ll go to the small world and laugh at him!"

The gods were left speechless.

And then...

When General An awoke from the small world, the first thing he did was slap himself twice. His expression shifted between red and black several times, a sight to behold. The Heavenly Emperor and the gathered gods had never seen him like this and were stunned, dying to know what had happened.

General An used a term from a technological world, solemnly declaring, "This is my eternal black history."

Before the gods could ask further, he swiftly sealed away his memories of the small world.

So damn humiliating! He never wanted to recall it again! Otherwise, he’d be too ashamed to spar with the Phoenix again!

To hell with those demons—he’d go tear apart a few great demons in their territory to vent his fury!

Transforming into a black dragon, he thrashed his tail and charged off to slaughter demons.

The gods: "???"

The Heavenly Emperor finally recovered his breath: "Who else is in the small world?"

The gods thought for a moment: "No one else, probably..."

The Phoenix God was likely beyond saving, and the divine realm faced ruin.

...

When Song Qingshi awoke, his thoughts were scrambled from too many missions. He sat in a corner of the divine hall, sorting through his memories for a long time.

The Heavenly Emperor finally remembered his existence and noticed this stone-man still seemed dazed, seemingly unchanged. Without much hope, he walked over and offhandedly asked, "How did your mission go?"

Song Qingshi looked up and pointed toward the Phoenix God’s temple.

From the clouds, a divine messenger flew over, exultantly proclaiming, "He’s awake! The Phoenix God is awake!"

Overjoyed, the gods wasted no time, calling forth celestial chariots, spreading wings, and boarding divine vessels as they rushed toward the Phoenix God’s temple to see him.

The Heavenly Emperor, both shocked and delighted, asked Song Qingshi, "You succeeded?"

Song Qingshi nodded.

"How did you do it? What did you do?" the Heavenly Emperor pressed urgently. He couldn’t comprehend how this heartless stone had managed to awaken the Phoenix, whose heart was sevenfold wise. He rapid-fired questions until he realized the other was overwhelmed—Song Qingshi couldn’t speak. Simplifying his approach, he steadied himself and asked, "Was it... luck?"

After a long pause, Song Qingshi nodded again.

"I knew you were a fortunate child," the Heavenly Emperor said excitedly, patting his head. Considering his preferences, he bestowed countless treasures and books—millions of volumes, encompassing the essence of every world, along with divine relics and the World Book left behind by the Creator God.

The Heavenly Emperor was truly a kind soul.

Song Qingshi, thrilled by the enormous reward, his eyes shining eagerly, found the books especially irresistible.

He wanted to rush home immediately and spend decades reading.

Pleased by his reaction, the Heavenly Emperor ordered divine messengers to deliver the rewards directly to his cloud-top abode, instructing him to rest well and be a good child—not like that idiot General An, who woke up and immediately went to fight. The World Tree was withering severely, but once the Phoenix God recovered and restored the small worlds, Song Qingshi could personally thank him.

Such a great favor—no tribute from the Phoenix could be too grand...

As the Heavenly Emperor prepared to board his chariot and visit the Phoenix God’s temple, he looked back at Song Qingshi’s joyful expression and suddenly realized something was amiss. Since when could this stone feel joy? Unable to resist, he asked, "What kind of luck did you obtain to awaken the Phoenix God?"

Song Qingshi turned back and spoke:

"It was the luck obtained after one thousand three hundred and fifty failures."

The Heavenly Emperor froze.

The stone he created... spoke?

...

Song Qingshi detoured to the Phoenix God’s temple, hoping to catch sight of Wu Huan, only to find gods packed like fish in a barrel outside, bearing gifts and forming long lines, all eager to visit.

He had heard that the Phoenix God was the most beautiful and beloved deity across the three realms, adored by all things. Countless creatures vied to become his Dao Companion—even among the gods.

Today, Song Qingshi finally witnessed just how popular Wu Huan was...

He couldn’t wedge himself in.

The gods had tried greeting or speaking to Lord Qingshi before, but never received a response, making exchanges painfully awkward. Now, seeing him again, they didn’t know what to say, shooting curious looks before refocusing on the joyous news of the Phoenix God’s awakening.

Peering from the sidelines, Song Qingshi overheard the lively discussions:

"Our Divine Lord endured much this time—he’ll probably seal his memories, right?"

"Even General An sealed his. He’d do likewise..."

"What merit is there in remembering such painful past events? They must be sealed."

"His perfection, his fastidiousness..."

"..."

Song Qingshi thought their words made sense. The bodies in the small worlds were illusions, the souls mere fragments. Now purified, their Dao Companion Mark was gone, their connection severed. If Wu Huan sealed his memories, the last traces of his fixations and sickness would vanish. He would return to being the Phoenix, soaring unfettered and radiant through the skies.

He thought for a long time and decided not to rush into taking responsibility for Yue Wuhuan, giving him the freedom to choose.

The Phoenix was born in the primordial chaos and had lived for hundreds of millions of years. The time spent in the Small World was but a drop in the ocean of his long life, insignificant in comparison.

Song Qingshi knew how much pain and suffering Yue Wuhuan had endured. If he chose to lock away those memories, it would be for the best...

After all, his decision to seek the Phoenix in the Small World had been his own idea, without any expectation of reward.

Now that the Phoenix had awakened, that was the best possible reward.

The goal had been achieved.

And so, Song Qingshi happily returned home to read his books.

...

In his courtyard among the clouds, Song Qingshi sat by the window, reading for hours. When he grew tired, he would gaze at the clouds outside.

The white clouds transformed into various shapes in the sky, always fascinating, never growing dull. But what he loved most was the gold-red glow that appeared outside his window every evening.

Song Qingshi couldn’t remember exactly when the Phoenix had first appeared.

Perhaps ten thousand years ago?

The first time he saw it, he had stared blankly for a long time, unsure of what it was. Unlike the usual clouds, it shone with a brilliant radiance. Later, he searched through his books and finally found the right words to describe it: a natural wonder, resplendent, dazzling, radiant, a myriad of colors.

After that, the Phoenix flew past his window every day, occasionally singing with a voice like divine music.

The monotonous clouds now held a different kind of beauty.

The books called this "beautiful scenery."

And so, Song Qingshi sat by his window every day, waiting for the Phoenix to appear, watching the most breathtaking scenery and listening to the most enchanting sounds... Gradually, this became his habit, as essential to him as life itself.

Then one day, the Phoenix disappeared.

He sat alone by the window, watching the distant clouds, waiting and waiting...

Night fell, dawn came, night fell again...

He waited absently for many days, but the Phoenix never appeared.

The books in his hands weren't appealing anymore; the words no longer made sense.

Where had the Phoenix gone?

Song Qingshi took out paper and brush, wrote down his question, and handed it to the Heavenly Emperor’s Divine Messenger who delivered his books.

The messenger, accustomed to dealing with him and always patient, told him what had happened to the Phoenix.

Song Qingshi gazed out the window, thought carefully, and finally decided to bring the Phoenix back.

The Heavenly Emperor spoke to him at length, explaining how difficult it would be.

But he didn’t care.

He was merely a stone, ignorant of human emotions and reasoning. All he wanted was for the Phoenix outside his window to return, flying proudly through the clouds—the most important sight in his life. He was willing to pay any price, even if it meant being broken to pieces...

...

In the Small World, the first emotion he learned was crying.

He realized that when humans were in extreme hurt, they wept. He cried as he recorded this important realization in his notebook. Later, he learned anger—why people wanted to hit others when enraged. Then he understood longing, dread, fear, shyness, embarrassment, humiliation, joy...

Yue Wuhuan said he liked him, that his smile was beautiful.

Finally, he learned what it meant to like someone, and what it meant to smile.

He liked books, learning, research, medicine, solving problems, and watching the clouds.

But most of all, he liked Yue Wuhuan.

With each cycle of reincarnation, his affection for the Phoenix grew stronger.

He *had* to bring the Phoenix back.

...

"Yue Wuhuan?" Song Qingshi came out of his memories, wanting to talk to Yue Wuhuan about the interesting memory he had just recalled. But then he realized he was no longer in the Small World—Yue Wuhuan was no longer by his side, and the Phoenix outside his window had long been absent.

Where had the Phoenix gone?

Song Qingshi held his book vacantly, his mind slow. After a long pause, he suddenly began to cry.

So this was loneliness.

He didn’t like being alone, didn’t like loneliness, didn’t like monotony, didn’t like watching the clouds by himself. What he loved most wasn’t the Phoenix’s beauty, but the companionship of its daily flight past his window—the feeling that he wasn’t alone...

The book-filled room was deadly silent, everywhere was cold.

Since no one was around to see, Song Qingshi buried his face in his arms and wept without restraint, unashamed.

He decided that once he finished crying, he would work through ten thousand practice tests to push the sorrow from his mind...

Then, suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

Had the messenger not finished delivering his books?

Song Qingshi hastily wiped his tears with his sleeve and went to open the door.

The gentle glow of the setting sun streamed in. The Phoenix God had long folded his magnificent wings, wrapped in gold-red clouds as he stood outside the door, smiling softly. "I’ve grown tired from flying. May I rest in your home for a while?"

His beautiful eyes were brimming with anticipation.

Song Qingshi froze for a moment before flustered ushering the Phoenix God inside. He then brought out pastries and spirit tea, offering them all to him.

The Phoenix God watched his actions and chuckled. "You were always like this—anything I liked, you’d give to me without question."

Song Qingshi nodded seriously. "Yes, I’ll give you everything..."

Then he realized—the Phoenix God was talking about the Small World.

"The Heavenly Emperor asked me to thank you properly, but nothing in the Phoenix Divine Hall is worthy of you. I couldn’t think of what to give," the Phoenix God said gently, wiping away the remaining tears at the corners of Song Qingshi’s eyes and smoothing his messy hair. Then, cautiously, he asked, "So... I thought I’d give myself to you. Would that be all right?"

The gift was a bit precious, but he liked it.

Song Qingshi gladly accepted. "Thank you. This is the finest gift of my life."

If the Phoenix God chose to seal his memories, it would be a good thing. If he chose not to, it would be even better.

Since the Phoenix God had chosen him, he would take full responsibility.

Song Qingshi racked his brains, vowing to be a good dominant partner and spoil his dao companion rotten.

The Phoenix God smiled and asked, "How will you spoil me?"

Song Qingshi was a man of action. Without hesitation, he unwrapped the gift, tackled the test, and put all his learned skills to work from the small world. He was particularly confident about this exam, believing that since he had returned to the divine realm, his body was absolutely fine—no matter what games they played, he wouldn’t plead for mercy again.

In the end, the room became overgrown with *Blood King Vines*, and the testing room echoed with rather indecent moans and whimpers.

"Wu Huan, I like you."

"Mhm, I know."

"Oh, Wu Huan, I really like you."

"......"

Afterward, the Phoenix God cradled Song Qingshi close in his arms, quietly listening to his heartbeat as if he could never get enough. After thinking for a long time, Song Qingshi finally asked the question that had been buried in his heart:

"Wu Huan, there’s something I don’t understand."

"Hmm?"

"Why did you pass by my window every day?"

"There are a thousand paths to the Phoenix God’s temple, yet I took this one every day. Can you guess why?"

"You... like me?"

"I waited day after day for stone to grow a heart. I waited so, so long."

"Wu Huan, my heart grew for you. I give it to you."

"Thank you. This is the most precious gift of my life."