After passing through the Southern Heavenly Gate, Danzhu still seemed lost in thought. Bihua Lingjun took the souls of the mortal emperor and the dragon spirit to the Jade Emperor to report on their case. When he emerged some time later, he found Danzhu sitting in a pavilion by the lotus pond not far from Lingxiao Hall, sipping tea that some immortal had evidently presented to His Imperial Majesty. He still seemed to be thinking about something.
The little qilin lay asleep across his knees.
Bihua Lingjun entered the pavilion and sat down at the stone table. He took another jade cup, poured himself tea, and had a sip. Only then did Danzhu slowly ask, “What did the Jade Emperor say?”
Bihua Lingjun replied, “The dragon spirit will be sent to the Dragon-Slaying Platform to receive heavenly punishment. The emperor’s soul will be cast into the eighteenth level of the Underworld, where he may have to endure every sort of punishment in turn. After all, the wronged souls of those he killed are still in the Underworld. Their resentment must be appeased.”
Danzhu murmured an acknowledgment and slowly sipped his tea. “Did you tell the Jade Emperor about Fuli?”
Bihua Lingjun nodded. “I did. He was extraordinarily delighted and said that whatever it took, Fuli must be invited back to Heaven. He asked this humble immortal to discuss the matter with you. His Majesty said he intended to descend to the mortal world himself to invite Fuli back.”
Danzhu set his cup down. “There’s no need for that. I’ll speak to the Jade Emperor in a moment. Tell him to start putting Fuli’s old residence in order. If we want Fuli to return, I doubt a polite invitation will work. Bihua, go to see him by yourself this evening or tomorrow. Tell him he is the principal culprit in this affair and that you’ve been ordered to bring him back to Heaven to answer for his crimes.”
Bihua Lingjun’s hand paused around his teacup. Danzhu raised his eyelids and looked at him. “Invite Fuli politely and he won’t budge; threaten to haul him in for punishment and he’ll move. That’s just how he is.”
Danzhu turned the teacup around on the table, his gaze unfocused, as though he had drifted once more into memories of long ago.
Bihua Lingjun took another sip of tea. “So when Your Imperial Majesty kept saying beside the pool that Fuli could hardly escape responsibility and might be called to account, you were already laying the groundwork.”
Danzhu smiled. “Naturally. How could I stand by and watch him hole up in the mortal world as a lizard?” He raised his cup and sipped again. “I know his temper well enough to know exactly how to deal with him.”
Smiling over his tea, Danzhu fell once more into memories and murmured, “Fuli…”
Bihua Lingjun drank silently. After emptying his cup, he picked up the teapot again. As he refilled it, he asked, in a tone that might have been casual or might have been probing, “Fuli’s true form must differ somewhat from that azure dragon he transformed into just now.”
Danzhu studied Bihua’s face before answering. “Mm. He is that ostentatious in human form, but his true dragon body is actually very robust. It isn’t so enormous that his head rests at the southernmost point and his tail reaches the northernmost, but he is certainly a powerful, well-built dragon. He hates being praised for his bulk, though. You can call him majestic or handsome. Just don’t call him sturdy. And I’d avoid ‘burly’ too.”
Bihua Lingjun asked in puzzlement, “Why?”
Danzhu answered airily, “Vanity. He always fancied himself a beautiful dragon, an elegant, scholarly, cultured dragon. He loves being called handsome, refined, charming, things like that. So long as you choose a delicate compliment and heap it upon him, he’ll be pleased. Just look at the way he preens himself, and you’ll understand.”
Bihua Lingjun frowned as if pondering the matter, with a trace of regret in his expression.
Danzhu glanced at him again and went on. “He dresses much more simply now because he’s fallen on hard times. In the old days he polished his scales every day until you could see your reflection in them. The reflected light was positively dazzling. He even rubbed fragrant oil into his dragon whiskers, each whisker at least three times. If he skipped even one application, he refused to go out.”
“Fragrant oil isn’t particularly difficult to obtain,” Bihua Lingjun murmured thoughtfully.
Danzhu nodded. “Ordinary oil isn’t. His oil was refined from Wusang wood of the Nine Heavens, Taiyin sea pearls from the Southern Sea, Tianqiong flowers from Mount Qi in the mortal world, and other things besides. I think the Tianqiong flowers went extinct when they were burned in the great war. I wonder what he’ll use on his whiskers in future.”
Bihua Lingjun said, “I’ve seen Tianqiong flowers. The Old Immortal of the South Pole seems to be growing several.”
“Oh, has he? That’s good. In any case, Fuli was ridiculously fastidious back then, and his human form was no exception. His hair was glossy and perfectly smooth, without a single strand out of place. His robes had to be free of wrinkles, not a speck of dust allowed. He always wore a cold expression when dealing with younger immortals, with his face drawn into a long scowl and never the faintest smile. They were all afraid of him and kept well away. Compared with him, I’m not nearly so particular. Anything will do for me. I show the younger immortals warmth whenever I can, and care for them whenever I can. Majesty isn’t something you have to put on. Take me: however friendly and caring I am toward the younger immortals, they still revere me just as much. In fact, they revere me even more than Fuli.”
Bihua Lingjun stroked his chin, apparently deep in thought. It seemed unlikely he had heard much of Danzhu’s speech toward the end.
At last Danzhu could not restrain himself. “Qingxi, surely you aren’t thinking of keeping even that old fellow Fuli as a pet?” Qingxi looked altogether too interested. Didn’t he dislike scaled creatures? Didn’t he only like young ones? No, that wasn’t quite right. Danzhu suddenly recalled that Bihua Lingjun only seemed to dislike birds. Many of the spirit beasts in his residence were no longer young. It wasn’t that he disliked older animals, merely that he preferred the young by comparison. Had a single glimpse of Fuli’s flamboyant appearance been enough to captivate him?
A faint, eerie radiance began to emanate from Danzhu. Bihua Lingjun seemed to snap back to his senses and immediately smiled. “Your Imperial Majesty must be joking. Keeping Immortal Emperor Fuli as a pet would be a crime of the gravest disrespect. How could this humble immortal dare even to imagine such a thing?”
The faint glow around Danzhu dimmed a little. Bihua Lingjun continued, “What I was actually thinking is that once Immortal Emperor Fuli returns to Heaven, his residence cannot possibly be made ready at once. Since I’ve become somewhat acquainted with him, it’s quite likely that the Jade Emperor will order me to attend upon him temporarily.”
Holding his teacup, Danzhu said lightly, “Oh, perhaps that won’t be necessary.”
Bihua Lingjun said nothing and resumed sipping his tea and thinking.
After a while he got to his feet, went to Danzhu’s side, and carefully lifted the sleeping little qilin from his lap.
Danzhu brushed his robes, rose, and left the pavilion. He narrowed his eyes at the qilin in Bihua’s arms. “Looking at it reminds me of that mortal emperor. He saw Fuli only once. How did things ever come to such a pass?”
Bihua Lingjun replied, “Your Imperial Majesty has never lived as a mortal, so naturally you cannot understand. I cultivated in the mortal world before ascending to Heaven. I was once human, and I can comprehend something of that emperor’s feelings.”
Danzhu quietly edged a little closer to Bihua Lingjun and searched his eyes.
But Bihua’s gaze had drifted past the lotus pond, toward the farthest reaches of Heaven. “Every mortal has wondered where life comes from and where one goes after death. If there is reincarnation, why does it begin, and does it ever end? To mortals, immortals are more than beings far above them: they are something to aspire to. A very few people, like me, are fortunate enough to enter the Daoist path, grasp its principles, and ascend to immortality. The great majority pass through rebirth after rebirth, still unable to fathom these questions. If one day they encounter an immortal, I fear most would be like moths drawn toward a candle flame. Even knowing they can never attain what they seek, they still long to draw close.”
Danzhu kept nodding. “Qingxi, you speak so truly.”
Bihua Lingjun gave a small smile.
Danzhu took the chance to move a little closer still. “Qingxi, what made you want to become an immortal in the first place?”
Bihua Lingjun replied, “Oh, after so many years in Heaven, I’ve nearly forgotten. In the mortal life in which I became an immortal, my family was reasonably well-to-do. I was born into a wealthy merchant household. Later my grandfather passed away. He had earned countless treasures of gold and silver in his lifetime, yet he took not one of them with him when he died. That moved me somewhat. I sought out Daoist books and began reading. Perhaps I had an affinity for cultivation, for I actually understood a few of the essential principles. Later I formally entered the Daoist path, and after that I ascended to Heaven.”
Danzhu nodded slightly. Finding Fuli during their excursion to the mortal world had been unexpected, but nothing had changed between him and Bihua Lingjun. Their relationship was caught in the same place, neither advancing nor retreating. Suddenly Danzhu felt a little lonely.
If force would not work, he could try gentleness.
But what if neither force nor gentleness worked?