(13) Emotional Stability

After lulling the fledgling to “sleep” with her dreadful singing, Liu Yi began to ponder over a name for it. She’d heard that the baser the name, the better the creature would thrive. The little bird had looked feeble from the moment it hatched, obviously difficult to raise—there was no choice but to give it the most undignified name possible.

“Scrappy, Useless, Dullard, Turtle’s Whelp?”

Wrapped in the blanket, the chick—Liang Zuan—looked utterly dispirited, his heart shrouded in hopelessness, his mind numb and blank. He opened his beak to speak, but all that came out was a feeble chirp.

Previously, his body had been unable to merge with the overwhelming power of his avian transformation ability, and so he’d been forced to regress into an egg to reconstruct himself. Beneath the thick shell, there was no such peace as it appeared—when the moment of rebirth arrived, it felt as if he were engulfed in flames. Agonized cries almost escaped his lips, yet he could utter no sound. Every second, every instant, was pure torment.

He didn’t know if he could survive this ordeal, nor how much longer he could hold on, nor when he would be free of such suffering. But, against all expectation, whenever he felt himself at the very brink, someone would speak to him—would drop cool water onto him, easing his pain.

He longed to know who it was that was helping him.

With that hope clutched close, he didn’t know how much longer he endured. At last, one day, he summoned the strength to break out of his shell, to struggle free—though even the act of breathing was searing agony. He thought: after all, he wasn’t a real phoenix—his rebirth had failed. But being able to see her just once would be enough.

It was her, Liu Yi…

When he saw that she’d stayed up all night caring for him, and heard his faint whimper, she’d immediately opened her eyes—her almond-shaped gaze bright and luminous, flawless and clear. She was so kind, so gentle, feeding him water while carefully shielding his beak and nostrils to keep him from choking, all while fending off the mischief of the little puppies.

Never in his memory had anyone cherished him so. If only he could feel it a little longer.

But, alas, time was running out.

Just as he hovered on the edge of death, she fed him something—he didn’t know what it was, but the burning pain within him slowly ebbed away. He felt that if he just held on a little longer, he might yet survive.

Finally, his senses returned.

His mind, still muddled a moment before, cleared in an instant. He shrank naked into the coral fleece blanket, mortified beyond belief.

Now, he had become a hatchling bird… In the future, how could he ever return to human form with dignity? A lifetime’s honor, lost in this moment.

Liu Yi, meanwhile, remained oblivious to the fledgling’s inner turmoil.

She was flipping through a dictionary, racking her brains for names. Since she was naming the little bird, she couldn’t leave out the two puppies, and if the pups got names, she couldn’t ignore the mother and child white tigers either, could she? She sighed at her own incompetence—having to come up with five names in a row would be the death of her.

Nearby, the two pups and the tiger cub were playing together, their fur gleaming in the sunlight—a sign of good food, water, and care. She yawned and turned another page of the dictionary.

Glancing over, she caught sight of the little ones tearing apart a pillow.

Tsk, tsk. Such troublemakers already—what would they be like when they got a bit bigger? Soon, they’d outdo even a husky in wrecking the house.

The thought alone sent a chill down her spine. She shook her head quickly to banish the dreadful image.

She even found herself using the same excuse all parents do: they’re still young, they’ll settle down as they grow.

Tiring of the pillow, the three little ones darted out through the floor-to-ceiling windows on the first floor, landing straight into a mud pit—remnants of Liu Yi’s earlier clay-baked chicken. They didn’t seem to mind at all, hopping and rolling until they were caked in mud.

If anything, they seemed to be having even more fun.

Liu Yi: “…Remain calm.”

Yes, yes, they’re still young. They’ll be sensible when they’re older.

She tried to comfort herself, gathering her fraying nerves and striving to keep her composure. Taking advantage of the midday warmth, she bathed all three, dried them off, and prepared to finish with a blow-dry indoors—only to find the place in shambles and, most importantly, the power cord chewed through.

Marked with tiny, sharp teeth, it was obviously their handiwork.

Now, the power had long since gone out. She relied entirely on scavenged generators for electricity, always frugal with her own usage, and now they’d gone and ruined her equipment!

Fury turned her dark almond eyes a vivid, crimson slit, exuding an oppressive aura—she looked genuinely angry.

The chubby black puppy, never having witnessed such wrath, went weak at the knees and wet itself on the spot.

Tucking its tail, a stream of urine soon covered the floor, flooding the inner room.

The skinny black-and-white puppy was even worse.

A crackling arc shot across the water, racing up Liu Yi’s yellow duck slippers.

With a sizzle, her long black hair turned into wild waves, a faint scent of singed fur in the air, her whole body sparking with residual electricity. Her ruby-like eyes narrowed, glinting with a dangerous light that made the three little ones tremble with fear.

The tiger cub, caught in the flood and the shock, had its soft fur standing on end, ice crystals forming beneath its plump little paws.

The black puppy, spurred on by the electric jolt, urinated like a running faucet, baring its teeth as it stood in the water.

Liu Yi, stifling her anger, shakily swept the spotted puppy into her spatial pocket. Thankfully, the space itself intervened, putting a stop to the chaos.

Once the remnants of the electric shock faded, Liu Yi, keeping her composure with the effort of someone shaking with Parkinson’s, strode outside without sparing a glance at the black puppy or the tiger cub.

“Awooo~” Great-grandma’s angry, please don’t be angry, I was wrong…

The tiger cub shook its scorched fur and began to wail.

“Woof, woof, woof~ Mom, Mom, I was wrong, please don’t ignore me, sob, Mom hit me… hic!”

The black puppy finally stopped peeing, but now sobbed uncontrollably, as if it had lost the whole world.

As for the spotted puppy, the moment it entered the spatial pocket, its uncontrollable electric powers were forcibly suspended.

“Mom, Mom, please don’t abandon me, I was wrong, I never wanted to hurt you…” It sobbed and apologized piteously.

Liu Yi collapsed onto the sofa outside, water dripping from her pants, forming a puddle beneath her, the magical wails of the three little ones ringing in her ears.

She wasn’t really angry at them—she just wanted some peace and quiet.

She’d used up every last drop of her spiritual spring water on the fledgling; now she relied on her own formidable immunity to endure, her limbs tingling with numbness. If she didn’t make them realize their mistake this time, it would only get harder to discipline them in the future.

She’d only wanted a few companions to ward off depression, but the three little ones turned out to be so promising—they’d all awakened their powers. Compared to her, with her humble wood ability useful only for growing vegetables, their talents were far more impressive.

Wait, before, she could only hear the tiger cub’s voice—how was it that she now understood the puppies as well?

Could it be that she was born to attract trouble, chronically deficient in calcium?

No, that couldn’t be…