Chapter Forty-Three: The Southern Marsh Ablaze, The Banyan Forest Destroyed

It is said that the Grand Tutor of Great Xia, Yanlong, issued a direct order to set fire to the Southern Marsh. Thousands of mounted archers shot in relentless waves through the swirling mists, and in an instant, the banyan forests of the Southern Marsh were ablaze. King Wu of Shang and his followers abandoned their mounts and fled on foot.

King Wu of Shang looked back to see fire arrows raining down from the clouds, and his people were seized with terror. Unable to withstand such an onslaught, they had no choice but to flee into the banyan groves of the Southern Marsh.

Fortune favored King Wu, for at that very moment, a snow-white, handsome figure soared across the sky. The man drew forth a wondrous feather fan and waved it lightly; tens of thousands of flaming arrows were instantly repelled. This was none other than Su Moran, the Fox of Qingqiu, on his way back to Yanfeng Mountain. From the clouds above, he had witnessed King Wu of Shang—his foster father, Hao Dan—being pursued by the fire arrows. Fearing for his life, Su Moran did not hesitate. He wielded the Divine Fan of a Hundred Feathers to render aid.

“Who is this exalted master?” Grand Tutor Yanlong raised his eyes to the sky, seeing the white-clad figure standing aloof above, deflecting thousands of fire arrows with a mere gesture.

“You need not know,” came the cold and indifferent reply that reached the ears of Yanlong and his men.

“The Divine Fan of a Hundred Feathers—Su Moran of Qingqiu!” The eyes of Ba Shizhu sparkled as she whispered the name, utterly captivated, and had it not been for Witch Wutong’s timely reminder, she might have swooned on the spot.

“Such beauty beneath the heavens can only belong to Su Moran, the Fox of Qingqiu,” said Witch Wutong in a low, steady voice, her gaze fixed and unblinking, for she too had heard much of this legendary figure.

“Why would the Jiuyi tribe intervene to aid the rebels of Shangqiu?” asked Guo Jingyuan, the Four-Eyed, Six-Eared General, his tone puzzled.

No one answered his question. Ba Shizhu quietly approached Witch Wutong and whispered, “In the past, I and Duna once crossed swords with his younger sister, the Empress. Duna died at the hands of King Wu’s adopted son. I suspect some agreement has been reached between him and the Jiuyi Empress. I dare not speculate further, but must report this to our master.”

Witch Wutong gave a furtive glance at Yanlong and replied softly, “Yes.”

Seeing that Su Moran intended to leave, Grand Tutor Yanlong called out loudly, “The Jiuyi are vassal allies of Great Xia. Why do you aid traitors? This act violates our alliance. Xia will not let this pass lightly!”

“Those who sow evil reap evil. The wicked shall perish by their own hand.” Su Moran ignored Yanlong’s words, leaving only these final words before vanishing completely.

“You…how brazen!” Yanlong fumed with rage at Su Moran’s disregard, but he was powerless to act. A confrontation would only lead to discord between the two allied nations.

By then, Su Moran had already departed for Yanfeng Mountain, while King Wu of Shang and his people, unaware of what had transpired, at last reached the foot of Mount Song. Only then did they dare breathe a sigh of relief, having survived a harrowing flight. Time and again, calamity threatened, yet fortune spared them each time.

Looking back, the Southern Marsh was now a sea of flames, the towering inferno devouring the banyan forest. Birds and beasts fled in panic. Had they not abandoned their mounts and escaped, they would have perished in the blaze.

“Witch, I must trouble you to report all this to His Majesty upon your return to Yudu. I shall await his command. Should he grant permission to campaign against the Shangqiu traitors, I vow to take the city in due time!” Yanlong, the Grand Tutor, seasoned by a hundred battles, would tolerate no insult to his loyalty and righteousness.

Ba Shizhu, seeing Yanlong’s resolve, felt her own resentment ease. “Your devotion is admirable, Grand Tutor. Rest assured, you shall not be kept waiting.”

“Then I must ask you to hold the Mingtao River. When we receive the imperial edict, we shall join forces to attack Shangqiu!” Witch Wutong echoed.

“I shall await your arrival,” Yanlong replied, ordering his troops to camp, and instructing General Guo Jingyuan and the two witches to return to Yudu.

“We take our leave,” said Ba Shizhu, Witch Wutong, and General Guo, bowing deeply.

Yanlong watched them leave, his aged eyes growing dim. He turned to Xuanwu General Wu Qigong, gazing toward Shangqiu, his emotions unreadable.

...

Meanwhile, atop Mount Song within the borders of Shangqiu, the Five Disciples of the Cave Heaven had returned. Li Zhongjun, the third disciple, saw that fewer than a thousand remained with King Wu. He descended to meet them, reporting that their senior brother, Fang Zhongjun, had perished at the hands of General Wu Qigong. Upon hearing this, King Wu and Left Minister Yi Yin wept bitterly, for they had been close to Fang Zhongjun. In years past, the rapid rise of Shangqiu owed much to the secret aid of the Six Disciples.

“I am deeply ashamed in the face of my Cave Heaven friends,” King Wu said with remorse.

“King Wu, there is no need. Things have come to this; we of Cave Heaven shall follow you to the end,” Li Zhongjun replied, for their youngest sister had been defiled by the King of Xia, rendering Cave Heaven and Great Xia mortal enemies.

“At the Mingtao River, did we not just pass South-Eyed True Lord?” Yi Yin suddenly said.

“Is that so? Our master rarely leaves seclusion, and we did not see him on the mountain,” Li Zhongjun replied.

“It was but a guess. The mists were thick; we could not see his face,” King Wu recalled.

“King Wu, please return home to rest. Once my brothers have erected a memorial for Senior Fang and recovered from their wounds, we shall await your orders at your residence,” Li Zhongjun said.

“Brother Li, I await your arrival,” replied King Wu.

With a nod, Li Zhongjun soared back to Mount Song.

King Wu and his followers returned to the city of Shangqiu, tidied themselves, and made for his residence.

At the same time, Su Moran had returned to the cave atop Rotten Axe Peak on Yanfeng Mountain. There, Su Su sat cross-legged, her condition improved after days of care, showing signs of recovery.

“Little sister,” Su Moran called softly.

There was no response. Su Su’s beautiful eyes remained closed, as if at a crucial juncture. When Su Moran had left, he journeyed overseas to seek his master, and after much entreaty, obtained a single drop of ancient immortal nectar. This elixir, distilled from the essence of a divine tree, could restore the very source of the soul. If Su Su absorbed it, her soul’s foundation might be restored, though she would have to find her lost human soul on her own; her strength was another matter entirely.

Su Su’s delicate face was creased in pain, a bead of sweat sliding down her cheek. Without delay, Su Moran gently parted her lips and fed her the immortal nectar.

As the elixir entered her mouth, Su Su’s brow gradually smoothed, and no more sweat appeared. Relieved, Su Moran turned to leave the cave.

Time passed. Still, no memories returned to Su Su’s mind.

Only a single fragmented memory flashed through her consciousness: the first encounter with the witch Jalor, seen in profile.

It was a dark and windy night. A mysterious figure appeared before Su Su—long legs planted proudly atop a mountain, silhouetted against the crescent moon. Clad in a black seven-star leather robe that accentuated her curves, her enchanting face bore eyes that could ensnare the soul. At a glance, Su Su felt herself lost, unable to break free from the spiritual invasion, even as the Empress of Jiuyi. Her own dark red eyes and petrifying power proved useless; in that gaze, she could only succumb, her mind invaded. Thereafter, Su Su was under Jalor’s control, gathering the chieftains of the Jiuyi tribes to the Qingqiu cave at her command.

After much painful struggle, Su Su finally overcame the shadow within her mind. Fortunately, her three souls remained mostly intact, though she lost her human soul and came close to reverting to her original form.

That shadow was, in truth, Jalor’s control over her celestial soul. The celestial soul is the seat of instinct and nature, and only extraordinary willpower and resolve can resist such domination. This was unlike Hao Dan’s celestial soul—none but the Eastern Emperor Taiyi could rival it. Even Jalor’s mighty spirit could not seize Hao Dan’s celestial soul.

Moreover, controlling another’s mind is a feat that drains immense spiritual energy. It requires close proximity and prolonged psychic struggle. Eventually, Jalor could no longer maintain control and granted Su Su a fleeting chance to break free, which Su Su seized.

Jalor herself remained unscathed, but Su Su, having broken free by force, suffered the loss and injury of her human soul. Fortunately, in the days that followed, Su Su managed to summon her wandering soul back, aided by the timely arrival of the immortal nectar from Su Moran. This restored her soul’s foundation, and at last, the green power of her origin called her soul home.

Memories flooded back like a spring, scene upon scene. She recalled the death of Old Black, the desolate pit beneath the banyan trees, his battered and scarred body, each wound searing into her heart. His death struck her deeply, spurring the first signs of her recovery and drawing her lost soul to her side.

Finally, she remembered meeting Hao Dan during her amnesia. She could not explain why the boy with the golden bell around his neck so enchanted her, even now that her memories had returned.

“Brother!” With her memories restored, Su Su transformed in an instant from a green-clad girl into the Empress of Jiuyi. Yet her powers remained gone, and it would take time before she could regain them.

Seeing Su Su now clad in imperial attire, Su Moran’s eyes flashed with admiration; her peerless beauty and commanding presence were dazzling beyond words.

“Little sister!” For perhaps the first time in his life, Su Moran’s lips curled into a smile, his stunning face touched with rare warmth.

So it was that these two unmatched faces gazed at each other, frozen in time within the cave on Yanfeng Mountain.

...

In their childhood, Su Su was still a little dark-green fox, and Su Moran had not yet set out overseas. As a boy, Su Moran would cradle Su Su in his arms, gently stroking her soft fur—a scene of utmost tenderness.

“Brother is about to leave Qingqiu for an unknown place. Little sister, you must behave and not trouble Old Black—he’s had a hard life,” he would say softly, holding the little fox.

“How long will you be gone, brother? Su Su doesn’t want you to leave!” The little fox would leap onto his shoulder, rubbing her face against his neck, her eyes squinting in a dog-like smile, looking like a green fur collar draped over him.

“Promise to behave, little sister. When brother returns with immortal arts, he’ll always protect his most beloved sister!” Su Moran would tease her affectionately.

“Yes! Su Su will wait for your return. Then I don’t want to be Empress—I just want to be your most beloved little sister!” The little fox would cling to his neck, refusing to let go.

...

“Young Master, the Elder from overseas has been waiting outside for some time...” It was Old Black, the elderly retainer, who approached anxiously.

“No! Su Su doesn’t want brother to leave now!” Su Su’s face was wet with tears, utterly distraught. She refused to loosen her grip, until Old Black finally picked her up, freeing Su Moran.

“Remember what brother said, be good from now on,” Su Moran said sadly, turning away from the cave. With a single step, he left and never looked back. From that day, the siblings grew distant. Decades later, when Su Moran first returned, he did not seek out Su Su, but instead went to find the ancestor of Qingqiu. By then, Su Su had become the Empress, and the bond between them was never as before. The question of succession had come between them; Su Moran renounced his claim to the throne, on the condition that he would not help Su Su ascend. This was the ancestor’s command.

To this day, Su Su knows nothing of this, for the imperial mandate of Qingqiu is that only through one’s own strength can the ruler unite the Jiuyi tribes. Dependence on Su Moran would only breed weakness in a monarch. As a daughter, Su Su was oblivious to all this, and after her childhood experiences, she was no longer the lively, mischievous girl she once was. Though she had become Empress, only she knew how much she loathed the role, how much hardship and heartless blows she had endured.

What will happen next? Let us await the next chapter.