[To Become a River of Stars] Dong Xiange - Chapter 62
In his youth, Li Xuanci had once been fascinated by the art of taming eagles for a time.
Taming a great eagle was a delicate task. You stayed in a room with the eagle, eye to eye, without eating, drinking, or sleeping, until its untamed wildness was utterly worn down, and it finally acknowledged its master.
This work was originally done by hunters who made their living by skill. After taming the eagle, they would deliver it to nobles.
But Li Xuanci insisted on doing it himself.
Eagles soared in the sky, fiercely wild. But in Li Xuanci’s hands, the sharpness in their yellow pupils was gradually worn away bit by bit until they finally lowered their proud heads to him.
An eagle tamed by his own hand understood him best, obeyed only his commands—a satisfaction unmatched by any eagle trained by others.
This was just a whimsical absurdity of his youth, and he eventually let it go. But recently, he had once again spent considerable time carefully taming an eagle with little wildness but also little brains.
This eagle wasn’t proud, and therefore, it wasn’t sufficiently loyal to its master.
No matter how many times he taught it, it would still, as now, laugh and leap into someone else’s arms with no regard for its own life, at a distance where the fine hairs on its face were visible, using that voice of hers to call out coyly.
“Brother.”
Li Xuanci wasn’t angry. His emotions remained very stable.
He just wanted to kill someone.
No anger was needed, nor was annoyance relevant. Since something displeasing had occurred, he would simply make the displeasing thing disappear.
Li Xuanci seemed to have returned to the cold and bloodthirsty demeanor of their first meeting. Nothing could obstruct his path, no one could move his heart. Reasons were unnecessary, and mercy did not exist.
If something displeased him, killing resolved the matter.
The arms holding her displeased him—he would simply chop them off.
The eyes gazing at each other displeased him—he would just gouge them out.
He would also cut out the tongue, turn them into human pigs, and then they would no longer displease him.
“Very good,” he heard himself say.
The next moment, Li Xuanci walked toward the embracing pair. Under the bright daylight, the red tassel on the sword at his waist shattered into scattered rainbow shadows, swaying merrily. The gem on the scabbard occasionally reflected light, like the sword shadows soon to arrive.
Shiliu was happily bouncing in her senior brother’s arms when the light from the gem caught her eye, and she finally saw Li Xuanci approaching.
Since losing her wits, she had been kept by this man for quite some time. She couldn’t remember his kindness, but she had deeply experienced his bad temper.
Although she was foolish now, it instead sharpened her animal-like intuition. Just as animals could sense danger before humans, the most intelligent of beings, Shiliu detected the approaching danger before her senior brother did.
She froze for a moment, released her hold on her senior brother, and involuntarily shivered.
But with her mind not working properly, her actions became unpredictable. Shiliu, rather intrigued, raised her arm, looked at the goosebumps on it, and ran back to Li Xuanci’s side as if presenting a treasure, showing it to him.
“Brother, look, little bumps! Shiliu’s little bumps! What are little bumps?”
Unfortunately, Li Xuanci only glanced at her, his eyes growing darker as he looked at the smile on her face, not a trace of a smile on his own.
Shiliu grew somewhat afraid. She hugged his waist, her chin pressing against his chest, and looked at him with pleading eyes, murmuring, “Brother, brother, why are you ignoring Shiliu?”
But no matter how many times she called him “brother,” Li Xuanci maintained that gaze. He didn’t push her away, didn’t hug her, didn’t look at the little bumps on her arm.
Shiliu pouted. Usually, calling him “brother” a few more times would always get her good food or fun toys. Why wasn’t it working today no matter how much she called?
But Shiliu only knew how to call people “brother.” Li Xuanci didn’t allow her to speak to others, and she didn’t know how to address him otherwise.
Her paste-like brain suddenly, vaguely recalled an address she had heard today, just now, from Madam Pang.
Her small chin pressed against his chest, her round, black-grape-like eyes reflecting his own. Then, she softly called out.
“Husband.”
“Husband, play with Shiliu, okay?”
She spoke with pure innocence, completely unaware of the storm she had stirred.
Beneath the ice, a crack appeared—just a thin line, unnoticed by anyone except the ice itself, frozen for millennia, aware of the impending shatter.
Under the ice, an underground river flowed, its gurgling sound sealed within the frozen layer. The heartbeat no one heard was slowly, clearly reviving in the depths of winter.
Li Xuanci’s eyes reflected the harsh, scorching sunlight, forcibly adding a shimmering brilliance to his indifferent, unfeeling gaze. He seized her round, tender chin and pinched it.
“Reckless fool.”
He Chong examined Shiliu’s face for a long moment before finally uttering those words.
“Shiliu, you… what exactly is wrong with you?” He Chong’s startled voice came from beside them.
He Chong’s eyes had been filled with shock ever since Shiliu hugged Li Xuanci. Although he hadn’t heard the soft, intimate “husband,” his mouth had remained agape.
Only then did Li Xuanci look at him again, the rage in his eyes having subsided somewhat.
Her current state was likely abnormal, but he himself had no knowledge of medicine. The only one who did had lost her wits. Now that a Taoist practitioner had arrived, he might be of some use. There was no need to kill him immediately.
Thus, Li Xuanci decided to let He Chong live a little longer.
After returning to the inn, He Chong examined her, his expression grave. “Shiliu’s soul has been stolen.”
Soul theft usually involved someone skilled in occult arts deliberately stealing another’s soul, causing it to leave the body. In Shiliu’s case, where she could still recognize people and speak, it was likely that only a portion of her soul had been taken. If most of her soul were stolen, she would have long been unconscious.
“Why am I unaffected?” Li Xuanci asked, watching Shiliu as she ate snacks again.
“Because soul theft is different from soul shock. If someone loses their soul due to an accident, fright, or collision, the unprotected lone soul is quickly absorbed or destroyed by soul-devouring hungry ghosts or other spirits. That person would never recover.”
“But with soul theft, if the thief properly preserves the soul without harming it, then this state is only temporary and won’t cause real damage.”
“The Fate-link curse between you and Shiliu connects your lives and deaths. Right now, her soul is merely separated; its essence is unharmed. Her body and mind haven’t suffered substantial injury, so there’s no reaction in your body.”
“So, our fates now lie in the hands of a petty thief?” Li Xuanci’s tone was flat, but danger lurked beneath.
“Your Highness, I heard from Jin Zhan that Shiliu bumped into a woman on the bridge and became foolish afterward. It was probably her. Do you have any clues to find this person?” He Chong frowned, also looking worried.
Li Xuanci didn’t answer immediately, his fingertips tapping rhythmically on the wooden table. After a long while, he finally said, “Naturally.”
Then he shifted gears. “However, you guessed wrong. That woman isn’t the result; she’s merely the cause. But it doesn’t matter. With the cause, we can naturally draw out the result.”
Li Xuanci’s eyes were filled with sharp arrogance as he curled his lips into a smile.