Chapter 1

When Auntie called me to the door, I never expected to see Zhao Yunzhi again.

He looked rather battered.

His pristine white robes were torn and filthy. One leg was injured, his face bore the tracks of a cat’s claws, and his lips were split. In one hand, he still clutched a bell.

The moment he saw me, he froze. The bell slipped from his hand and struck the ground with a bright, clear chime.

I hurried to pick it up.

It belonged to my dog, Taxue, who treasured it dearly.

If I hadn’t been desperate for something to give Zhao Yunzhi at the time, I would never have shoved Taxue’s bell into his hand.

At least I had it back now.

Taxue whined with delight, stamping his paws and humming eagerly for me to fasten the bell around his neck.

I bent down to tie it on.

Auntie laughed. “Oh my, what a coincidence! This young gentleman somehow found Taxue’s bell.”

Some coincidence indeed.

I had met Zhao Yunzhi ten years ago.

Back then, he had looked even worse than he did today.

I had dragged him like a dead dog into a haystack and hidden him there.

Zhao Yunzhi told me to throw his belongings into the river so no one could track him by their aura.

I went under cover of darkness.

The night was black, the moon enormous.

The chirping insects made me a little afraid.

I tossed all his clothes and possessions into the river. Then I deliberately soaked my clothes in the shallows, took a long detour home, and waited for the wind to scatter the scent on me before I returned.

Later, someone came to the village asking after him.

I shook my head between coughs.

The man left in disgust.

I ran a fever for three days, but I never forgot to bring Zhao Yunzhi food.

Three days later, he had gathered enough strength to leave.

Before he went, he gave me a stick of Heaven-Seeking Incense.

He said it could be lit three times, repaying the kindness I had shown him over those three days.

I thought he was wonderfully generous. Three favors in return for hiding him for three days—what a righteous man.

I had thought too soon.

When a demon beast mauled my father, I fell to my knees, knocked my head against the ground, and lit the incense in desperate supplication. Zhao Yunzhi did not come.

When my mother, heartsick after losing my father, went into a difficult labor, he did not come then either.

After that, I stopped expecting anything from the incense.

Yet one more hardship found me.

The belly of Taxue’s mother—the big black dog who had grown up alongside me—began to swell. At first, I thought she was carrying puppies, but her belly grew so large it nearly dragged on the ground. She became listless and stopped eating.

The village elders said a tumor had probably grown inside her.

“There’s no curing that. Poor dog’s in for terrible suffering.”

The big black dog whimpered.

I wanted to cry.

I lit the incense one last time.

“Immortal, please. If you come—if you can save her—I’ll remember your kindness for the rest of my life.”

The moon shone brilliantly that night. There were no stars and not a breath of wind. I hardly dared breathe for fear of snuffing out the incense.

But no one came.

At daybreak, the big black dog was gone. Inside her kennel was a single black puppy with four white paws—Taxue.

Old dogs do not stay at home when their time comes.

The last living creature in that house who had shared a bond with me had disappeared.

Later, I raised the puppy, took in a cat, and rescued an injured little snake. My days became lively again.

But a lingering resentment had wound itself around my heart.

By then, I understood that everything must pass. No immortal art could call it back.

I hated only that someone had given me hope, then strangled it before my eyes—not once, but three times.

He had made me seem ridiculous. Made me seem pitiable.