Lately, Emperor Danzhu had been unusually languid and short on energy.
He had already petted every spirit beast in Bihua Lingjun’s residence. Seeing them every day, he knew them all by heart.
The immortals of Heaven often came to pay their respects, flowing in and out all day long, and he had grown used to that as well.
Sleeping, admiring the scenery, bestowing his affection on Bihua’s spirit beasts, and chatting with the pretty young immortals who came to greet him had all begun to feel rather dull. Nothing new or interesting seemed capable of stirring Danzhu’s enthusiasm.
In short, Emperor Danzhu felt his days had become altogether too uneventful. He was lonely.
One day, sitting on a long bench in the corridor, Danzhu let out a bored yawn and remarked casually to Bihua Lingjun, “Every day is the same. It’s becoming rather tedious.”
Immortal Envoy Heyun happened to be attending him and immediately said with deep respect, “Perhaps Your Majesty has been staying at Bihua Lingjun’s residence for too long. Danxiao Palace has long since been renovated, and all the immortal attendants have been selected and assigned. Your Majesty could return there whenever you wish.”
Danzhu looked utterly uninterested and yawned again.
Bihua Lingjun said to Heyun, “Still, I hear most of the attendants at Danxiao Palace are young immortals. I don’t know whether they’re all steady and dependable. If they’re careless and impulsive, or perhaps too timid and shy, they might displease His Majesty. That wouldn’t do.”
At the words young immortals, Danzhu’s eyes immediately brightened with interest.
Heyun lowered his head. “This humble immortal is still shallow in cultivation and not especially skilled at guiding them. If Your Majesty were willing to instruct them personally from time to time, both I and the other attendants would benefit immeasurably.”
Danzhu smiled. “You flatter me. I’m not very good at instructing younger immortals. Besides, it’s best to let people follow their own natures. If everyone behaved as though cast from the same mold, that would be dreadfully boring.”
Heyun bowed respectfully. “Your Majesty’s teaching is most wise.”
Yunqing and Chisheng stood together in a far corner of the corridor, secretly bursting with excitement. Judging by His Majesty’s expression, the prospect of all those young immortals had truly caught his interest. If Emperor Danzhu would just move back to Danxiao Palace, every danger and worry would vanish into thin air. Their lord would finally escape with his life!
Bihua Lingjun smiled. “Speaking of which, I’ve heard that the Jade Emperor personally ordered these attendants at Danxiao Palace to be chosen from the most outstanding disciples serving the various immortal lords. I’d rather like to meet them if the opportunity arises.”
Heyun said, “If Your Majesty returns to Danxiao Palace, Lingjun, you may of course meet them when you come to pay your respects.”
Bihua Lingjun merely smiled again and said nothing.
Danzhu looked thoughtful. “Hm… return to Danxiao Palace…” In their corner, Yunqing and Chisheng were shouting in their hearts: Your Majesty! Decide to go back to Danxiao Palace!
Danzhu sighed. “Ah, Danxiao Palace… we’ll discuss that another time. As for those young immortals, if they’ll only be sitting idle in the palace and are afraid the Jade Emperor will blame them, perhaps one or two could come here each day instead. Bihua doesn’t seem to have many young attendants. They could come and keep me company for a chat.”
Yunqing and Chisheng stared in dismay. It seemed Emperor Danzhu intended to stay here for the next thousand years, or ten thousand. Their lord! What was going to happen to their lord?
Heyun respectfully bowed his head. “As Your Majesty commands.”
Immortal Envoy Heyun’s attempt to persuade Emperor Danzhu to return to Danxiao Palace had failed once again, and he took his leave. Bihua Lingjun also had celestial duties to attend to and hurried away. Danzhu ate a little fruit beneath the corridor, drank two cups of clear tea, and dozed lazily. Suddenly Tangdi appeared, dragging a blackish-gray bundle toward him. “Your Majesty, I… I have a favor to ask.”
Danzhu half opened his eyes. “Hm?”
Tangdi’s fur was dull and disheveled. It had turned the color of withered grass, a sure indication of his extreme agitation, and he looked thoroughly wretched. The little Plaster Fox was clinging tightly to his fur, rubbing itself against him without pause.
Tangdi raised his head toward Emperor Danzhu, his eyes full of pleading. Even his tail moved in supplication.
Danzhu gave a knowing little smile. “Very well.” Tangdi immediately sprang into human form. The Plaster Fox was still hanging from his chest, but Danzhu’s presence terrified it, and it buried its head inside Tangdi’s robes. Tangdi joyfully cupped his hands. “Thank you, Your Majesty! Thank you!” Danzhu smiled. “No need. But there’s something I want to ask you. I’ve been thinking that I see the same faces and do the same things every day. I’m bored almost beyond endurance. Then I remembered those two young immortals the Jade Emperor exiled to a deserted island. They spend every day staring at each other, yet they seem quite happy. Why aren’t they bored? Is there some trick to it?”
Tangdi scratched his head. “Well… there’s a saying among mortals: better to envy a pair of mandarin ducks than to envy the immortals. In their case, ahem… perhaps it’s because they can stay together, so they never grow bored, whatever happens. If two people truly like each other, they never tire of looking at one another. I suppose that must be how it works. Ahem… Of course, that’s only my own wild guess. I don’t know whether I’m right…”
The Plaster Fox was desperately burrowing into Tangdi’s chest, its claws scratching continuously.
Danzhu nodded thoughtfully, then beckoned to Tangdi. “Come closer, then.”
Tangdi hurried forward, delighted. The little fox gave a plaintive cry, its fur standing on end again as it shook with fear.
Danzhu caught a lock of Tangdi’s hair and slowly leaned toward his neck.
But the fox did not bolt the way it had when clinging to Bihua Lingjun. Instead, it burrowed into Tangdi’s collar and curled into the smallest ball it could manage. It trembled, yet clung to him with stubborn determination.
Danzhu stroked his chin. “This won’t be so easy this time.” At last he slowly stretched his hand toward the bulge beneath Tangdi’s robes and ordered in a deep voice, “Come out.”
The fox’s head popped out. It was trembling violently and terrified beyond measure, its fur puffed up around it. One forepaw was hooked firmly into Tangdi’s clothes, yet it actually let out several low growls and raised the other forepaw toward Danzhu, baring its sharp little claws.
Danzhu watched the trembling fox and laughed in surprise. “Why, is this child preparing to fight me to the bitter end?” He flicked one of the threatening claws lightly with a finger. “So young and so terribly weak, yet you have this much courage. Remarkable indeed. Very well. I won’t try to steal him away from you.”
He looked up at Tangdi. “I can’t help you after all. You’ll have to take good care of it yourself.”
With a pop, Tangdi transformed back into a fox. His fur was even more disheveled and a still duller shade of yellow. He trudged off, tail drooping, dragging the cub that remained fastened to his body.
Emperor Danzhu reclined once more in his cushioned chair, suddenly feeling much happier.
He had thought of an excellent way to relieve his boredom.
If you truly like someone, you never grow bored.
It sounded rather interesting. Perhaps it was worth trying.
Emperor Danzhu intended to find himself someone he genuinely liked, someone whose company would keep him from ever growing bored again.