Chapter 82: The Promise-Breaker (Part 1): A Bit of Mischief

After understanding her meaning, Shang Shan smiled brightly, gently grasped Ugly Fur’s little hand, and said mildly, “It won’t hurt. Watch closely! Let me show you a trick.”

Ugly Fur clutched her thumb and bared her teeth, her expression tense. Shang Shan still held her hand, raised her head, opened her mouth, and slowly pushed the knife tip into her throat with her other hand. Once it reached a certain depth, she suddenly closed her mouth, bit down on the blade with her teeth, and snapped it with force. The sword broke crisply at her teeth.

She chewed up the sword tip and gulped it down, then shoved the broken blade back in, her teeth slicing it into segments. Though it was steel beneath her teeth, she munched it like sugarcane without changing expression until even the last piece of the hilt was gone. She opened her mouth to show, “See? It’s all gone!”

The short sword that had been right in front of their eyes vanished in an instant, without even a shadow left. Tan Que’s eyes and mouth opened wide as she crawled over to peer into Shang Shan’s mouth. “You really ate it? How is that possible?!”

Ugly Fur stretched out her paw to tug at her lower lip and squeezed in for a look too. She saw the mouth and throat were completely empty—where was the short sword? She patted her head and rubbed her belly, unable to comprehend where the sword had gone.

Tan Que asked, “How did you do that?”

Shang Shan laughed. “It’s something I’m born with! I can eat anything. Impressive, right?”

She raised her hand high above her head. Tan Que clapped nonstop in admiration. “So amazing! I’ve never seen anything like it. New trick!”

Ugly Fur fetched a fresh peach and held it to her lips, wanting her to perform again. Shang Shan first took a bite with her head lowered, then accepted it and crunched it down, not even sparing the pit. Ugly Fur clutched her head in shock, as if the entire world had been upended. She practically wanted to climb into the girl’s mouth to study what kind of structure lay inside her body.

“Little Ugly Fur! You prying at my mouth—you’re so cute!” Shang Shan tickled her. While she giggled and scrambled around wildly, Shang Shan pulled her paw up to dance with her. After playing around, she declared firmly, “I’m changing your name. It’s way too ugly-sounding.”

She said this with utmost conviction but racked her brains for a long time without finding anything suitable. Instead, she turned to the one beside her. “Do you have any good names? Something nice-sounding.”

This was too much for the illiterate Tan Que. She thought seriously and shook her head solemnly. “Nah, the best ones I’ve come up with are already taken—Lingdang and Cuihua.”

Shang Shan praised, “Those two are nice-sounding too.”

She had to rely on herself. She thought of one, crossed it off; another, crossed it off. She scratched her head in frustration but couldn’t come up with anything. She decided to call for reinforcements. “Master!”

At the end of the carriage, Mu Qian Tan reclined on the soft couch, leaning against the carriage wall as she flipped through a book of spells. She wasn’t far from them, so all their conversation reached her ears. She knew exactly what Shang Shan wanted from her. But fussing over such a trivial matter was boring enough that she didn’t respond.

Without getting up, Shang Shan rolled right over to the woman and eagerly lifted the teapot to pour her tea. “Master, Ugly Fur’s name is too awful. I want to change it, but I can’t think of anything. Can you help come up with a nice one?”

The tea filled to the brim of the cup, pale green leaves swirling in the water as a fragrant aroma wafted up. But the woman showed no reaction, calmly turning a page. Shang Shan bit her lower lip and said softly, “Master, you’ve read so many books—you could come up with a nice one without even trying. Cat Official’s waiting right here for you to speak.”

She bent at the waist, tilted her face, and cupped her hand by her ear to show she was listening devoutly. Tan Que sneaked over too, hiding behind her. For some reason, though she’d never been hit, she feared this woman terribly. Once she got close, she didn’t dare speak and could only shut her mouth and wait.

Mu Qian Tan rolled up the book and smacked the back of her head with the reverse side—not hard, but loud enough to echo through the entire carriage. It still made her bow her head.

Tan Que flinched, hissing on her behalf. Shang Shan blinked, clutched her head, and offered her ear again.

Mu Qian Tan propped her elbow on the edge of the tea table and smoothed the page as she said condescendingly, “Ugly Fur sounds bad—change it to Pretty Fur, done. Don’t bother me.”

Naming a monkey—how idle could one get?

Pretty Fur. It really was tossed out casually. From ugly to pretty—it seemed meaningful, but it sounded even stranger.

Peeking through the gaps in her long hair at the woman’s utterly indifferent demeanor, Shang Shan knew she couldn’t expect her to put any thought into this. She huffed, “If you don’t want to, I’ll think of one myself.”

She dragged Tan Que back to sit and kept brainstorming, crossing off ideas, but her mind stalled. She couldn’t flip up anything suitable for now, so she set the matter aside to decide later when inspiration struck.

Ugly Fur watched her worriedly and rubbed the spot where she’d been hit. Shang Shan laughed heartily. “It’s fine! That Flapping Moth didn’t even use any force. Doesn’t hurt at all.”

With the nuisance gone, Mu Qian Tan lost her desire to read. She wanted a sip of tea but found the cup overfilled—any tilt would spill onto her hand. Though she hadn’t sat down to properly savor tea in quite a while, she still remembered that wasn’t how you poured it.

She lifted her gaze to the girl’s retreating back and murmured lowly, “Can’t even pour tea right.”

She skimmed off the top layer with the lid and then sipped. She placed the book over her chest and pondered taking a nap. She shifted her position against the carriage wall, but something dug into her waist. Looking down, it was the money pouch she’d taken from Hu Xinsu earlier.

She’d given all the money to her. That morning, Hu Xinsu had wanted to buy a coffin but had no cash. He’d dug through his father’s relics, pawned something valuable, and only then could he make arrangements.

The theater troupe couldn’t bear to watch and pooled their own money together for it. Including renting the carriage, they’d emptied several pouches. The looks they shot over carried some resentment.

Mu Qian Tan could guess what they thought: mortals revere immortals, keeping them above the dust. Yet immortals take money bluntly without any otherworldly detachment, no sympathy for mortals, no compassion… and so on.

She ignored all those looks entirely, only feeling reassured by the bulging pouch.

She untied the pouch and counted the money—decent amount. But thinking of this stupid dragon needing to eat in the city soured her mood.

She might as well have the troupe handle Shang Shan’s meals too, let them witness the female protagonist’s unfathomable depths.

As she pondered, she heard the two chatting again. Mu Qian Tan wasn’t very tired yet, so she cracked her eyes open a sliver to watch vaguely, waiting for sleepiness to rise.

“She knows magic tricks,” Tan Que said after wiping the carriage floor clean and setting Lingdang down. “I didn’t teach her—it’s her own skill.”

Lingdang cooed twice. Her pink-and-white paws stepped on the clean spot, staying strictly within that wiped area as if scorning the dirt elsewhere.

Mu Qian Tan thought to herself: Even a frog has cleanliness OCD, yet a certain dragon loves rolling in the mud.

Tan Que said, “Watch closely, princess. Transform!”

Lingdang opened her big mouth, curled her long tongue, and flicked out a copper coin. The bit of copper spun through the air, rose to its peak, and fell, reflecting in her pitch-black eyes. At the right moment, she clapped her front paws together with a smack, trapping the coin. She held the pose as her hind legs bounced, turning half around.

Tan Que gestured to look closely and leaned in to blow on Lingdang’s clasped front paws. When she opened them, the copper coin was gone.

Mu Qian Tan thought: Magic tricks now too?

Shang Shan, fresh off her sword-swallowing act, played along perfectly. She bounced left and right in shock and even lifted the mat below to check. “It’s gone! Where’d it go?”

Lingdang covered her eyes with both paws and cooed. The blush on her cheeks deepened, turning the whole pink-and-white big green frog a deep pink. Tan Que scooped her up again and chuckled. “She’s shy.”

Shang Shan poked her blush—it felt soft and cool. She said sincerely, “Princess, you’re amazing.”

Lingdang covered her eyes tighter, a rumble bubbling deep in her throat.

After soothing her, Tan Que said, “Don’t you have parrots and snakes too? Why go on stage yourself?”

Shang Shan replied, “I wanted to perform. Why make them work for it? These tricks aren’t easy to learn, right, little fur monkey?” She ruffled Ugly Fur’s head again, savoring the fluffy feel in her palm. Suddenly inspired, she went to the front of the carriage for a sheet of red performance paper, then cut it all into tiny squares upon returning.

Tan Que asked, “What’s this?”

Shang Shan beamed. “You’ll see soon!”

She found an extremely thin stick, spread the paper squares on the carriage floor, set down the stick, and rolled up from three corners of each square, curling the edges into a protruding piece. She did the same to the rest, sticking them together. In her palm lay a blooming red flower.

She pinned the paper flower behind Fur Monkey’s ear. “From now on, you’re Fur Flower, not Ugly Fur anymore.”

Mu Qian Tan closed her eyes and murmured, “Sounds even worse.”

Fur Flower gleefully claimed her new name, clapped wildly, and grew so excited she could barely contain herself. She gingerly touched the paper flower with a finger, then scratched at her chest vigorously, hopping around as if unable to believe it was for her.

Shang Shan said, “This flower won’t wilt, just like your beauty!”

She lavished one compliment after another, pouring out every bit of praise the fur monkey had lacked since birth. Fur Flower nearly burst with joy, leaped onto her head, kissed and hugged her skull, climbed up and down, her mouth grinning back to her nape. Tan Que doubled over laughing. “Hahaha, be careful not to scratch her!”

After the commotion, the two rested a bit. Tan Que brought out several cans of liquid and lined them up. “Know what these are?”

The cans were all sealed in tin, wrapped in colored paper, hiding their contents. Shang Shan shook her head. “No idea.”

Tan Que explained, “They’re for dyeing.” She opened the blue one, and a foul smell hit the air. Inside was mostly thick blue liquid, so intense and heavy it turned the stomach a bit.

“It’s stinky, but it washes off,” Tan Que demonstrated. She grabbed a lock of hair, dipped the tip in the blue, waited, then wiped it off. The hair tip turned blue and wouldn’t wash out with water!

Shang Shan took a deep breath, eyes rolling as she recalled the woman refusing to name the monkey. A naughty idea stirred in her heart.

She glanced back—the woman reclined on the soft couch, asleep. The mischief ballooned instantly. Amid Tan Que’s shocked gaze of “how dare you,” she tiptoed over with the blue dye liquid.

The carriage light was bright, half falling on Mu Qian Tan’s cheek, half on her hair. Asleep, the woman shed her chill, looking like polished jade in the sunlight—radiant and warm. Her long hair trailed beneath her like a heart-stirring black sea, tempting one to plunge in.

Shang Shan squatted down ultra-carefully, slowly pinching a strand of hair. A faint fragrance instantly wrapped her nose. Her heart trembled slightly as her gaze slid to the woman’s face, fixating on those butterfly-wing lashes. She meant to check if she was awake but stared blankly, forgetting her next step.

What was she here to do again?

Her mind fogged, only the sleeping visage remained. If she brushed aside the stray hairs by the woman’s eye now, would she see that red mole?

She probably would.

As if possessed, she reached to try, but before touching, the lashes quivered. Eyes opened, dark pupils gleaming with cold light.

Oh no!

After a full day and night of travel, the road ahead revealed the faint outline of Pot City. Beneath vast cerulean skies, pottery-red mountain ranges stretched like a giant dragon for thousands of li—grand and majestic, nearly scraping the heavens, like a stroke of vermilion from a god’s brush. One dared not stare directly, holding one’s breath as heart and soul quaked.

By now, troupes heading to perform in Pot City appeared one after another, along with tourists purely there to play. Crowds from all directions mingled; those with common ground had already befriended each other and traveled together.

The outskirts bustled like this—hard to imagine the spectacle inside the city.

The carriage rolled to the city gates before stopping. Hu Xinsu got out to check if anyone was missing. When he lifted the flap on the last compartment, his “Greetings, immortal” hadn’t left his mouth before he saw a blue person sitting inside.

Yes, a blue person.

He thought he’d seen wrong and blinked several times before confirming: apart from black-and-white eyes, from hair silk to face, neck, and limbs, all was blue skin, reeking strangely!

He cried out in terror, “What kind of monster are you!”

The blue person smiled, flashing white teeth. “I’m Shang Shan.”