Chapter Thirteen: The Golden-Winged Roc Hall

Nanlu awoke from his cultivation to find seven girls before him, each radiant or delicate, their presence both dazzling and shyly received. He rose awkwardly and said, “I lost track of time while practicing… I didn’t notice…”

Giggling erupted among the girls. “So absent-minded…” “Aren’t you afraid someone might sneak in and steal something?”

“Enough, don’t say such things,” chided the eldest of the seven, half teasing and half stern. “Nanlu was brought here by Prince Kongxuan; he must learn properly, and perhaps one day he’ll master great powers!” At her words, the others quieted, their laughter subdued.

This was not their first visit, nor the first time Nanlu had seen them. Indeed, they were the only people Nanlu had come to know since arriving here—though “knowing” might be too strong a word, for he could only distinguish the eldest among them; the rest, despite their unique temperaments, looked so alike and all so beautiful that he never dared meet their gaze, which only encouraged their merriment in his presence.

“Nanlu,” the eldest addressed him, “these are spirit fruits freshly ripened from the orchard. We bring them by order of the Palace Master.”

Nanlu understood that the Palace Master was Phoenix, ruler of the Undying Palace. He hurried to lead the seven girls inside.

“Look, the last batch of spirit fruits are still here!” one exclaimed.

“Prince Kongxuan isn’t often here, and even when he returns, he secludes himself. There are few people in the hall, so the fruits remain untouched,” Nanlu replied, smiling.

“But none are missing. Why haven’t you eaten any?” asked another. Nanlu, not daring to look at the cluster of sparkling eyes, couldn’t tell who spoke, but answered, “They’re gifts from the Palace Master for the Prince. How could I dare eat them?”

“Such a fool!” someone muttered.

“Third sister, mind your words,” the eldest admonished.

“Did you know the Palace Master once had Prince Kongxuan select a boy for the hall, but he chose none? Not long after, he brought you back!” the eldest said, smiling.

Nanlu could only smile awkwardly, not knowing how to respond, and his uncertain nods prompted louder laughter from the seven girls.

Standing in the doorway, Nanlu watched the cheerful girls depart. Only as they left did he dare look at them openly, but after many such glances, he still only knew which was the eldest; the rest, unless he listened to their voices, remained indistinguishable by appearance alone.

He knew only that the seven belonged to Phoenix’s palace. In his memory, they were always joyful, their laughter bright and free.

Nanlu had wanted to ask how many of the eagle tribe’s children, sent a year ago, had been chosen for the palace and how they fared, but the question remained unspoken.

Returning inside, he gazed at the spirit fruits, their aroma alluring. He knew these must be extraordinary, perhaps offering unique benefits; he’d eaten many wild fruits in the mountains—some replenished spiritual energy, some staved off hunger for days—but these, cultivated in the famed Undying Palace, surely surpassed all.

Yet Nanlu did not touch a single fruit. To him, surviving, being brought into the Peacock Hall by Kongxuan, and becoming his attendant was fortune enough. The priest elders had taught him since childhood: one must be content.

Some say cultivation is tedious; but if one truly feels so, their attainment will remain limited. Nanlu never felt boredom—immersing himself in the insights of the Great Way was exquisite.

He always awoke at night, for then he could see the stars. He imagined himself outside his tribe’s wooden hut, his sister beside him, both gazing at the brightest star in the sky. In this way, the star’s light would carry his longing to her eyes.

Kongxuan had been gone for a long time. Nanlu was uncertain whether what he sensed through the jade talisman was accurate. He wished Kongxuan were nearby so he could ask, but he took comfort in his improving earth evasion technique.

A yellow mist flickered; with a step, he appeared at the hall’s entrance, then, stepping back, returned to his original spot. Delighted, he took another step—now he was outside the hall. Though no one was permitted to use magic in the Undying Palace—an unspoken rule—Peacock Hall was remote, so Nanlu, finding himself alone, practiced happily in the open courtyard.

On the flat ground, a blue shadow flashed ceaselessly. Mist swirled around him, shrouding his figure and rendering it ethereal, as if blown apart by the wind. Vanishing soundlessly, he would reappear unpredictably in a distant corner, his movements graceful and crisp.

“Who dares use magic in the palace?” came a voice, young but commanding, its authority undeniable. Nanlu’s flickering form halted abruptly.

Before he could respond, the newcomer barked again, “Where are you from? Why aren’t you working, lazing about here?”

Nanlu looked at the youth in blue, about his own age, with an air of superiority. Knowing he had no excuse for practicing magic in the palace, Nanlu bowed his head and replied, “I’m from the Peacock Hall.”

“Peacock Hall? Besides Prince Kongxuan, only…” The youth paused, realizing Nanlu was the attendant Kongxuan had brought back. The story of Kongxuan returning with a boy had long circulated throughout the Undying Palace. Though Nanlu had been here over a year and met few besides the seven girls who brought spirit fruits, everyone else knew of his existence.

The Palace Master had once instructed Kongxuan to choose an attendant for the hall, but Kongxuan claimed none were suitable. Later, he returned with Nanlu, prompting many to wonder what manner of person had caught the prince’s eye. The youth before him was among those most eager to see Nanlu, for he himself had been one of those Kongxuan had previously considered.

“As the prince’s attendant, you should uphold palace rules, never practice magic within the halls. If you must, go to the Hall of Illusions,” the youth said, his tone softening, his gaze appraising Nanlu, thinking, “So this is the one Kongxuan brought from outside? He’s nothing special—far inferior to me.”

Nanlu responded quietly.

“I am Chiba of the Golden-Winged Roc Hall, sent by my prince to invite Prince Kongxuan to a banquet.”

Upon hearing his name and purpose, and seeing his attire, Nanlu understood he was, like himself, an attendant—this one to the Golden Roc Prince.

“So you’re Chiba. But my prince has been away for over three months; I do not know when he will return,” Nanlu replied, embarrassed.

Chiba’s brow furrowed. “This is troublesome,” he thought. “I failed in my task and will surely be punished.” Looking at Nanlu, an idea struck. “Since your prince is absent, come with me and inform my prince yourself. That would be proper.”