Su Xuan lowered his gaze, ignoring her explanation, and took a storage ring out of his spatial pouch, handing it to Sang Dai.
Sang Dai took it with a raised eyebrow. “What’s this?”
“Money.”
After probing the ring with her spiritual energy, Sang Dai was momentarily speechless.
She wasn’t mistaken.
The ring was filled to the brim with top-grade spirit stones—several times more than what she had received from the Sword Sect in the past hundred years.
Sang Dai: “…No.”
She tried to hand the ring back to Su Xuan. “I don’t want it. I don’t have many expenses. If I need money, I can earn it myself.”
In the past, when she was short on funds, she would take on exorcism jobs to earn the kind of money an ordinary cultivator could.
But the little fox forcibly slid the ring onto her finger, irritated. “Earn it? I’ve been tirelessly developing commerce in the Beast Realm to make money. I’m still alive, so why do you need to earn anything? The Beast Realm doesn’t require its Beast Queen to go out and work for money!”
Sang Dai: “…”
Su Xuan seemed to realize what he had just said. His ears turned red, and he averted his gaze.
“In any case, you don’t need to earn money. The Beast Realm can afford to support you.”
With that, he pushed open the bamboo house’s door and walked inside, leaving Sang Dai standing in the small courtyard, stunned.
She glanced at the storage ring on her ring finger, then chuckled softly. Removing the ring, she placed it into her spatial pouch.
The Beast Realm’s economy and commerce were the strongest among the four realms. For a century, there had been no wars, and after Su Xuan ascended the throne, he worked hard to develop these areas. The citizens lived in peace and stability, free from the chaos of conflict. With the Beast King’s strong support, commerce naturally flourished and expanded.
In contrast, the other three realms had been embroiled in constant wars over the years, draining their resources. The economic toll of war was evident.
Sang Dai glanced toward the bamboo house, where light was now glowing faintly. The little fox inside had lit a lamp.
In truth, having Su Xuan as the Beast King was a great blessing for the Beast Realm.
He was a ruler who disliked war, yet he was intelligent and powerful.
Sang Dai stepped into the bamboo house.
Su Xuan’s tall frame made the cramped bamboo house seem all the more confining; his head was nearly brushing the ceiling.
Sang Dai sighed and decided she would tear the place down and rebuild it. Otherwise, Su Xuan would always feel constrained whenever he visited.
She walked up and pointed to a painting on the wall. “I drew that.”
Su Xuan fell silent for a moment and asked, “Does the Sword Sect not teach painting?”
Sang Dai scratched her head awkwardly. “…Well, they do teach the other disciples, but Sang Wenzhou told me I only needed to practice swordsmanship and didn’t need to learn anything else. He wouldn’t let me.”
Su Xuan lowered his gaze to her, nodding slightly. Then he suddenly said, “You let him die too easily.”
If Sang Wenzhou had fallen into his hands, Su Xuan would have strung him up and flayed him, turning his skin into a kite to humiliate him across the four realms.
Shi Yao and Shen Ciyu had experienced complete childhoods, learning music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. They were exposed to a broad array of experiences and taught how to navigate the world. Sang Wenzhou even took them on travels throughout the realms.
But the life of a sword cultivator was nothing but monotony.
Practicing swords, practicing swords, and more practicing swords.
Exorcising demons, exorcising demons, and more exorcising demons.
The little fox looked at the painting on the wall. He could just barely recognize it as a osmanthus tree.
Although it was somewhat difficult to identify, it possessed a kind of abstract beauty—or so the little fox claimed.
Su Xuan asked, “Why do you like Osmanthus trees?”
Sang Dai replied, “No particular reason, I guess. I’ve liked them since I was a child.”
She countered, “What about you? Why are there so many Osmanthus trees planted around the Beast Palace?”
The little fox lowered his head to look at her. “Because they’re hardy.”
Sang Dai: “…”
[Of course it’s because Dai Dai likes them. Dai Dai’s backyard is full of Osmanthus trees, and she loves osmanthus cakes.]
Sang Dai couldn’t help but laugh, but fearing she might give herself away, she quickly pointed to a bamboo cylinder on the table.
“Look, the little trinkets inside are things I’ve made over the years. My master taught me how to make them when he was still around.”
Su Xuan walked over and picked up the bamboo cylinder. Inside were various handwoven objects made of grass: grasshoppers, butterflies, and so on.
He picked up a small woven object that resembled a cat and asked, “Is this a cat?”
The sword cultivator shook her head seriously. “That’s a fox, okay? Don’t go changing its species.”
Su Xuan glanced at it again. “…”
His expression was complicated.
The sword cultivator tried hard to salvage her dignity. “The fox was my first attempt at weaving, so it doesn’t look much like one. But the others, I’ve made them all quite well.”
Su Xuan took another look and nodded.
It was true—aside from the little fox, the other woven items were fairly well-crafted.
Without hesitation, he said, “Make one for me. The best one.”
Sang Dai smiled and asked, “Should I make a little fox?”
“…Mm.”
“Alright, I’ll make a little fox for the little fox.”
The sword cultivator had spent so much time with him that even her tone had taken on a coaxing quality, as though she were dealing with a child. After all, this particular fox could be rather childish.
But the little fox took it as a form of affection.
Sang Dai’s bamboo house was nearly empty, with only a painting, a table, and a bed. Yet the house was spotless, as clean and tidy as she always kept herself, no matter the circumstances.
Su Xuan asked her, “If you like this place, I can rebuild the house for you so you can stay here whenever you want.”
He himself didn’t mind; living in the Beast Palace or not made no difference to him. Rules didn’t bind him much—it was more about what Sang Dai liked.
But Sang Dai shook her head. “No need. Winters here are too cold. It’s nice to come here occasionally to clear my mind, though.”
She touched her stomach and said, “I’m a bit hungry. Want to eat something? I’ve got some food in my spatial pouch.”
Thanks to a certain fox who never skipped meals, Sang Dai had gotten into the habit of keeping snacks in her pouch.
Su Xuan shook his head as he walked outside, huffing softly. “I only eat fresh food.”
Sang Dai followed behind him. “Then shall we head back now?”
Su Xuan stopped by the stream outside the bamboo house, scoffing coldly. “We’re not going back. We’ve only just arrived, and you’re already trying to chase me away.”
Sang Dai sighed, ready to placate the little fox, when she saw him take off his shoes, roll up his pant legs, and step into the water ahead of her.
He pushed up his ornate sleeves, revealing his lean, muscular forearms, and pulled something out of his spatial pouch…
A bamboo spear.
Sang Dai: “???”
Does he always carry this kind of thing?
The little fox didn’t turn to look at her, his eyes fixed intently on the river surface.
“Miss Sang, you’ve probably never had wild game before. Streams like this often have spiritual fish with tender, delicious meat. When I was young, I used to catch them all the time.”
Sang Dai stood hesitantly at the riverbank and said, “There are fish here, yes. This place is rarely visited, and the water is deep. But I’ve never caught fish before. I don’t know how to handle them. If you really want one, we can just use spiritual energy to catch it.”
Su Xuan didn’t even turn his head. “When I was young, I never used spiritual energy to catch fish.”
Sang Dai crouched by the riverbank, watching him, and asked, “So you’re just using the bamboo spear? How will you catch anything like that?”
Su Xuan’s tail was practically curling upward, and he lazily said, “It’s a matter of skill, Miss Sang. Just watch.”
Sang Dai couldn’t help but laugh as she saw the little fox wading deeper into the stream. The water was now up to his thighs, soaking his expensive clothes.
His voice drifted over to her. “Dai Dai, sometimes the result doesn’t matter so much. What matters is the process.”
It was like their attempt at catching fish—perhaps they wouldn’t succeed without using spiritual energy, but the experience itself was enjoyable.
Su Xuan turned to look at her, his voice soft and even carrying a hint of laughter. “Miss Sang, life can be fun. It’s not all about practicing swordsmanship. You could stop practicing for a while, go up the mountains to pick fruit, or wade into the river to catch fish. All of that could be part of your life. So, Dai Dai, will you come down and join me?”
Sang Dai hesitated. “I don’t know how.”
“I’ll teach you.”
“…How do you know how to do this?”
“When I was younger, I used to mess around with Liu Lixue. Both of us know how.”
Sang Dai sighed. “…Alright.”
Liu Lixue did seem like someone who would be skilled at such things. He had a knack for all sorts of odd skills, and given his close friendship with Su Xuan, the two had likely done plenty of this when they were younger.
Sang Dai carefully took off her shoes, rolled up her pant legs, and stepped cautiously into the water, making her way toward Su Xuan.
The stream was deeper than it looked, and soon the water was up to her waist.
Su Xuan handed her the bamboo spear. “There’s one over there. Try to catch it. Focus, or we’ll go hungry tonight.”
“…Alright.”
Sang Dai gripped the bamboo spear tightly. She spotted a spiritual fish in the distance and took a deep breath, as though she were handling some explosive weapon.
It was as if Su Xuan had entrusted her with an extremely important task, one that carried a heavy sense of responsibility. Sang Dai approached the fish cautiously.
Su Xuan folded his arms and watched her, unable to suppress the amusement in his eyes.
Sang Dai waited for the right moment, raised the bamboo spear, and struck down…
Su Xuan raised an eyebrow and leaned forward to look.
Oh, as expected, the fish had escaped.
He knew it.
Sang Dai was incredulous. “I aimed exactly at where it was! My swordsmanship has never missed before.”
Her eyes were always precise. When wielding her sword, she could strike any acupoint with unerring accuracy.
Su Xuan chuckled softly, meeting her confused gaze. He reached out and patted her head. “But this is fishing, not sword practice. You’re standing in the water, and what you see isn’t where the fish actually is.”
The little fox pointed toward the moonlight on the water, his tone gentle. “The light falls on the water’s surface, then refracts through it and lands on the fish. What you’re seeing is just an illusion. Its real position is slightly deeper than where you see it.”
“Dai Dai, like this—”
Taking the bamboo spear from her, the little fox moved swiftly and precisely. When he lifted the spear again, a spiritual fish was skewered on it.
Sang Dai: “…”
Su Xuan tossed the fish onto the riverbank, offering Sang Dai a live demonstration of how experience could triumph over her swordsmanship.
Apart from practicing swordsmanship, Sang Dai had little contact with other things. Fishing was something Su Xuan and Liu Lixue had done since they were young, honing their skills through countless attempts and hands-on experience.