Chapter Eleven: The Red Carp Spirit of the Hongyu Boat

 That day, I wore a plain long robe embroidered with subtle cloud patterns and casually tied my ancient sword around my waist as I made my way to the Hongyu Boat. Before leaving, I looked at myself in the bronze mirror at home. This outfit wasn't flashy at all and had a bit of an innocent air, which made me feel somewhat melancholic. By the time it was dusk, I arrived at the Hongyu Boat. The sun had set over West Lake, and the evening glow was fiery red. All the painted boats, tea houses, and wine shops along the lake were brightly lit, with incense burning on the tables. Although the atmosphere was lively, it wasn't chaotic. There were guards at every corner, checking the visitors. Since I was alone, without any servants or a fancy carriage, and not invited by a renowned scholar, I would have had trouble even finding the Hongyu Boat if it weren't for using the "Awakened Dream" spell. After managing to board the Hongyu Boat, I found there were no guards around. The scholars who had arrived early gathered at the bow, reciting poetry and flaunting their talents. Although I appeared to be a scholar, I had never read a single book from the mortal world. The few poems I knew were either those that Wujiao had recited to me or those sung by Feiyang. The only books I was familiar with were Daoist texts, so I didn't dare show off here. I simply left the group of scholars and moved toward the group of fairies. The host of the Hongyu Boat was naturally Red Jade, who, though no longer in her youth, had a rare charm and friendliness among the fairies. With a single glance, she seemed to have greeted every scholar on the boat, each one at ease under her attention. When she saw me, she smiled and invited me to drink, compose verses, and guess riddles. Unfortunately, the riddles were all about poetry and rhymes, and the fairies were all experts in this field, no less than the scholars. I lost almost every time and couldn't keep up. Luckily, my one skill was drinking; I had been drinking alcohol like water since I was young, and after ten or so cups, I remained unfazed. I treated the fairies with politeness, never crossing any boundaries, and was even respectfully called the "Gentle Flower Young Master." Ah, how I used to trample on flowers back in Kunlun, even the ancient Jiumang flower that had bloomed for ten thousand years. When I was in a bad mood, I'd still pick it and crush it to the ground. And yet, in the mortal realm, I had become known as the Gentle Flower Young Master? Haha, what a fate. Emperor Yuanxi, who seemed to have his own burdens, finally arrived at the boat with his entourage when the moon was already high in the sky. He didn't invite anyone to accompany him, so we, the fairies and scholars, could only wait at the bow, gazing at the moon. Before we could admire it for long, Red Jade hurried out and instructed the boat to set sail. I don't know how the boat sailed, but it moved as smoothly as if on solid ground. It soon reached the shore of a desolate temple on a small island in the lake. Three stone pagodas stood in the water, bathed in moonlight, casting their shadows in the clear water, creating a scene of perfect harmony between heaven and earth. This was not my first time here. Whenever Wujiao visited Hangzhou, he would always take me directly to this desolate temple on the island to contemplate the ruins and look at the moon, which had its own unique charm. The temple was a relic of the Buddhist faith from hundreds of years ago. The Buddhist sect disappeared tens of thousands of years ago, but five hundred years ago, it revived, and traces of Buddhism were brought to the mortal realm from the Western Regions. However, these temples never lasted long, either destroyed by natural disasters or ravaged by wars. The only surviving place was here, the "Three Pools Mirroring the Moon," where Buddhist disciples used to release fish. It had become a site for poetry, drinking, and moon gazing. And that little red carp we encountered here... The last time we came to admire the moon, it was already late. Wujiao told me that during the full moon, the water creatures cultivate and absorb the moonlight, and it's best not to disturb them. So when we arrived, the moon was already waning, and that small red carp had washed ashore in the shallow water in front of the temple, shimmering faintly under the clear moonlight, like a piece of translucent, gleaming agate left by someone. I had heard that in the mortal realm, raccoon cats love fish, and I was tempted to taste it. But since I don't like water, I made Wujiao pick the little carp up. It wasn't quite dead yet, just barely hanging on. I sniffed it from Wujiao's hands and was hit by a strong fishy smell. That's when I realized the little carp wasn't an ordinary fish but a carp spirit that had cultivated for hundreds of years. If it cultivated for another few hundred years, it might even try leaping over the Dragon Gate. I am a principled literary raccoon, and I've always only eaten wild beasts, never spirits, even if they're on the verge of death and have returned to their animal form. Humans may harm each other, but not us divine beasts. Spirits are close to us, right? Since I didn't want to eat it, Wujiao, feeling pity, decided to use some of his celestial energy to save it. But when he sent the energy in, he couldn't find the inner core to sustain it. We then realized the carp spirit had lost its inner core. Judging by the fishy smell earlier, I knew that someone had taken it. This sort of thing may be rare in Kunlun, but in the mortal realm, it happens quite often. A spirit's centuries of cultivation could easily be stolen by another beast. I sighed, but Wujiao suggested that if we gave her the Fengzhu (Wind Stabilizing Pearl) from my master, the carp spirit might have a chance at survival. Since Wujiao wanted to show mercy, I had no objections, especially since it was my master's treasure. So, we painstakingly retrieved the Fengzhu from the waters and gave it to the little carp in exchange for her life. That's why I had to come to the Hongyu Boat. Red Jade—could she be the red fish? Who else but a spirit could make a heavy painted boat move so gracefully? As the fairies began to perform the song and dance called "Shengping" under the full moon, all of us, including myself, the so-called scholar, were seated in the cabin. Each person had a small table in front of them with exquisite tea and fruit. The Hongyu Boat was indeed elegantly designed, and even the ceiling was opened up, letting the moonlight pour in like water. It was truly a beautiful sight. However, this scene, with its painted boat, the dance, and the food, didn't interest me as much as the man in a moon-white robe sitting across from me. Most of the scholars sat in pairs, but this man, like Emperor Yuanxi, had a table all to himself. Even in this setting of indulgence, he sat straight, his expression cold, and his gaze firm. Looking at the fairy dancers and the fragrance in the air, some of the scholars genuinely appeared stunned, while others feigned aloofness. But the man across from me, just like me, seemed uninterested in the dance or the fairies. He was deep in thought, his handsome face devoid of any smile, cold, matching the moonlight perfectly. However, I could see some anxiety and yearning in his eyes, as if he was eagerly waiting for something. What did he say to me last night? That he might be able to escape from Mengpo's gate today? I thought to myself, how is his escape related to the Hongyu Boat? Hah, whatever the reason, it looks like tonight will have a great show. While I was pondering, I casually picked up a piece of osmanthus cake and ate it. The man sitting across from me, who was sharing the table, courteously offered me some green plums from his plate. I couldn't help but notice that he seemed to want to feed me one, perhaps because he saw the longing in my eyes as I looked at Feiyang. I quickly moved away, startled by the thought of what Feiyang had said about "cut sleeves," but before I could process that, I was already distancing myself. Feiyang smiled faintly from across the table, still lost in his thoughts. I couldn't help but think—if only he knew how his "clumsy wife" had almost been teased by another, I wonder if he'd still be smiling. Feiyang's table was right next to Yuanxi's, and Yuanxi's gaze, filled with a strange light, made me remember it clearly. I didn't dare to look at him too much. Tonight, he seemed quite happy. Not only was he nodding and smiling as he watched the performance, but he also looked around the table at the scholars. When he saw me, I almost lost my composure, but I managed to keep my calm, knowing I had to maintain control. From the corner of my eye, though, I noticed Yuanxi looked troubled. He glanced at Feiyang several times, and I could see some hesitation in his eyes, but also something else—something that didn't seem to be nostalgia or reluctance. It seemed more like... guilt? I held the green plum in my hand, deep in thought. What kind of performance would this night end with? The fairy dance finally ended, and the fragrance of the cold moon followed them as they filed into the cabin. Just as they were about to sit next to the scholars, Yuanxi smiled and said, "Red Jade, I've heard that there's a rule here on the Hongyu Boat. Although I'm the Emperor, I don't want to break it." With that, my curiosity was piqued once again, and I saw Red Jade smile and thank the Emperor, before turning to the crowd and saying, "Hongyu Boat has always been beloved by all of you gentlemen. There's no need for any pretense or conditions. However, each of you is a talented scholar and gentleman, so it is difficult for our fairies to choose. Therefore, I have a bold request: I ask each of you to compose a poem based on the moon. If your poem matches the hearts of our fairies, there may even be someone who will serve you wine, gaze at the moon, or even... win a beautiful maiden's heart. But if your poem is not to her liking... well, we shall serve you wine instead." Before she could finish, my face turned pale. This was almost my worst nightmare! The next time I see my Lady, I'll have to ask her to teach all the divine beasts poetry, or else we'll be doomed to embarrassment here in the mortal realm! As the scholars began to stretch their arms, and I sat there, trembling in fear, Red Jade paused and added, "But please don't think I'm testing your talent. I simply ask that you use ancient poems, not your own compositions." [Silent... it seems that the real scholar here is Xiaoqing, who uses this trick when unable to come up with something.] At these words, the scholars' disappointment was evident, while I couldn't help but grin with relief. As a raccoon, I could barely make up a poem on the spot, but I could definitely memorize some of the ancient ones. What did Wujiao say last time before he saved the little carp? He recited a poem with the moon in it... What was it? I hung my head, lost in thought, when suddenly, I couldn't recall it!