Chapter Four: The Peony Fairy (Part Two)

“If you want me to leave your sea of consciousness, you’ll have to die first! Otherwise, there’s no way!” The Peony Fairy burst into a fit of rage.

Ji Mo’s face immediately fell. She had known it wouldn’t be so easy to drive out this irascible spirit. Left with no choice, she continued the negotiation, “Since you refuse to leave, let’s at least make things clear. First question: can you tell me why you’ve taken up residence in my consciousness?”

The Peony Fairy said nothing, refusing to answer.

“If you won’t answer the first question, I’ll just have to guess. You moved in uninvited and offered me great fortune as a lure—I suppose it’s because my sea of consciousness perfectly suits you. Anyone else, and you wouldn’t survive, am I right?” Ji Mo wasn’t angry; she simply answered herself.

The fairy remained silent. Ji Mo took her silence as acquiescence and continued, “Since only my consciousness will do, shouldn’t you tell me what you want from me? If I can’t figure out even that much, I won’t cooperate with you in anything.”

“Are you threatening me?” After a long silence, the Peony Fairy finally spoke.

“A threat? Hardly. Judging by how you obliterated that man in black just now, you could probably erase me with a flick of your finger. I simply don’t want to die someday without knowing why,” Ji Mo replied.

“Why do you assume following you will lead to your death? Perhaps this is your stroke of great fortune, a tremendous opportunity,” the fairy mused.

“Great fortune? Since you’re a celestial from the upper realm, I’d assume you’re not slow-witted. Yet here you are, a noble fairy of the Heavenly Court, reduced to a mere wisp of soul drifting to our lower world, now residing in the consciousness of a mortal child with no spiritual energy. Are you really going to tell me you came early because you saw my exceptional talent and wished to guide me to greatness?” Ji Mo sneered.

“You! …What you say isn’t wrong. I was indeed nearly destroyed, my soul all but scattered. Only this remnant drifted to your world, and I had no choice but to take shelter in your consciousness. But that doesn’t mean the opportunity I offer you is false.” The Peony Fairy nearly lost her temper. She longed to slap this unnervingly clever and sharp-tongued child to death, but reason prevailed, and she reluctantly revealed a painful memory.

“So this opportunity is so that, one day, I’ll avenge you?” Ji Mo frowned. She had little interest in such cycles of vengeance.

“If you want to think of it that way, so be it,” said the fairy.

“Don’t you overestimate me? Even you ended up like this. I’m just someone from the lower world—even with your so-called opportunity, how could I possibly help you take revenge?” Ji Mo scoffed.

“Don’t imagine that just because I failed, there’s no hope for you. Fate is the most fickle of all things. No one knows what an unremarkable person or object might one day become. My choice of you is itself a gamble. If I win, my wish is fulfilled; if I lose, I’ll accept my fate,” the fairy replied calmly, reading between Ji Mo’s lines and, strangely, not angered this time.

“So I have no choice but to accept your gift?” Ji Mo asked.

“That’s right. From the moment I settled in your sea of consciousness, our fates became entwined. If you refuse my gift, and I can’t find another host, my only option would be to destroy you and perish with you,” the fairy said.

“But you should know, I have no desire to cultivate immortality. I just want an ordinary, peaceful life as a mortal. With that mindset, even if I accept your gift, I doubt I’ll achieve much. As for ascending to the immortal realm or avenging you, that’s nothing but a mirage,” Ji Mo said quietly after a pause.

“Oh? You actually don’t want to cultivate? No matter. Mortal minds inevitably change as circumstances do,” the fairy replied, first surprised, but then sounding quite certain.

Ji Mo frowned instinctively at these words, a vague unease rising within her. She couldn’t tell where this feeling came from, but the Peony Fairy paid her no mind and shifted the topic. “From what I’ve observed, people in this world hold an unparalleled passion and longing for cultivation. Why are you the exception? I’m quite curious. Care to explain?”

“How long have you been in my consciousness?” Ji Mo asked instead of answering.

“Not long. About three months. For most of that time, I quietly observed your world. Only today did I unbind the seal on your soul, restoring your awareness. What intrigues me is who exactly put that lock on you. They didn’t seem to mean you harm. Even without my intervention, the seal would have unraveled in a few months,” the fairy replied.

“So you’re saying my three years of muddle-headedness were because someone sealed my thoughts and memories?” Ji Mo asked.

“That’s right,” answered the fairy.

Ji Mo tilted her head, pondering, but found no answers. The fairy’s voice resounded in her mind again. “I suspect your parents.”

“My parents? Impossible. They were just ordinary mortals. How could such people possibly seal another’s thoughts and memories?” Ji Mo frowned, instinctively objecting.

“How can you be so sure your parents were mere mortals?” the fairy snorted.

“If not, why would they have died of illness?” Ji Mo retorted.

“Heh, that’s not necessarily so. Perhaps your parents were formidable figures of the cultivation world, later weary of that life. Perhaps they offended powerful enemies and hid away in a place like Zhao Village. The illness you saw could have been some hidden malady flaring up. Maybe you don’t trust my theory, but think carefully—did your parents ever tell you where their hometown was? Did they mention any other relatives?”

“And consider this: the one who sealed your mind and memories held no ill intention, merely seemed determined to keep you from joining any cultivation sect. If I’m not mistaken, in three days’ time, the Moonwatch Sect will open its gates to new disciples. If you miss this chance, you’ll settle into the typical mortal path of marriage and children, and the world of cultivation will drift ever farther from you. Weighing all this, the only suspects are your parents,” the fairy said with a laugh.

“If it truly was my parents, then I can’t help you. I won’t go against their wishes,” Ji Mo said at last, after a long silence.

“You don’t want to know why they did this? Or the true cause of their deaths?” asked the fairy.

“They only wanted me to live a peaceful life. I still remember, at the moment they closed their eyes for the last time, they said to me very seriously: ‘Little Mo, our only wish in this life is that you live happily and simply, as an ordinary person,’” Ji Mo said, her eyes narrowing.

“How naïve. Their intentions may have been good, but reality is cruel. You were never meant to be ordinary, yet they forced you to become so, in defiance of the laws of the universe. If not for the Zhao family’s care, how would a little orphan like you have survived these years? If you can barely manage to live, how will you taste the joys of an ordinary life?”

“And in this world, the law of survival is the strong preying on the weak. Right now, you’re powerless. One day, if misfortune befalls the Zhao family, will you really just stand by, helpless? Or would you rather be able to let them live more comfortably because of your own strength?” the fairy sneered coldly.

Ji Mo wanted to protest, but though her mouth opened and closed, not a word came out. The fairy’s words were unpleasant, but undeniably true.

“My soul is weak. I don’t have the time to argue further. Join a cultivation sect as soon as possible. I have a cultivation method here to pass on to you. Once your sea of consciousness is opened, you’ll be able to study it. Whether you choose to learn or not will be up to you.” As the words faded, Ji Mo felt something new settle into her mind.