Chapter 124: Tao Yaoyao, the Demon Catcher

To be willing to sacrifice a millennium of cultivation for another—such deep affection and devotion is likely impossible to repay.

"Why go to the trouble of weaving an illusion for her? And tell me, how could you be so certain that I would appear?"

The fox pointed a paw toward the sky, signifying that this was heaven’s will. Shortly after, a black lotus petal appeared in the fox's paw, which was marked with a plum-blossom pattern. Upon seeing the lotus, the petal drifted upward and flew directly into the center of the lotus's brow.

If the fox was willing to give up a lotus petal, there must be something he sought in return. "Why do you not take on a human form?"

Little Jianjian sniffed the air from the side, [Isn't that simple? I was wondering why her scent was a tiny bit similar to Tao Yaoyao’s. So that’s it—you gave your demon core to her!]

The lotus raised an eyebrow. What kind of storybook plot was this? A great demon and a small sprite?

The fox remained silent. After a long while, he produced a crystal-clear stone containing a single drop of bright red blood.

"She was originally a hummingbird that had attained sentience, guarding the entrance to my cave day and night..."

...

Back then, I had not yet grown my ninth tail; I was merely an unremarkable eight-tailed fox. I had spent years cultivating in the cave, and for years, I had been lonely.

"Chirp, chirp~ chirp, chirp, chirp, chirp..."

A hummingbird? A tiny spirit I had not seen in ages. Because of my overwhelming presence, no birds or beasts dared to venture within a hundred miles—she was the exception.

I opened my eyes. Her feathers were blue, her eyes were bright and spirited, yet she seemed a bit foolish.

"Do you know whose territory this is?"

"Chirp~?"

"Ignorant creature."

The eight-tailed fox closed his eyes to continue his cultivation, ignoring the bird. I had assumed she would leave after being intimidated, but I never expected the bird to be so clumsy. Every morning, she would not only sing loudly at the cave entrance but even built a nest on top of it.

Every morning, the eight-tailed fox would receive gifts from the hummingbird—flowers of every color from across the forest. She did not know that, in truth, the eight-tailed fox did not like these flowers.

"Don't you know foxes don't like flowers? What they like most is bird meat!"

The eight-tailed fox bared his fangs and snarled at the hummingbird. As expected, the hummingbird was nearly frightened out of her wits. She tumbled from the air with drooping wings, her emerald-blue feathers stained gray-blue by the dust.

"Chirp!"

"Hmph, get lost!"

The hummingbird left, trembling. The eight-tailed fox let out a soft huff; she was indeed a timid bird. I assumed she would never return, but the next morning, when I opened my eyes, the hummingbird was perched on my tail, holding a fresh blue flower in her beak, acting as if she had nothing to fear.

"Chirp, chirp~"

Hearing her chirp "flower, flower," I found myself amused. The flowers she brought every day had been piled in the corner, now a heap of dried petals. This was the first time I had ever accepted a flower from her.

I brought the flower to my nose and took a light sniff. It was fresh and crisp, carrying a faint fragrance. I said, "Thank you."

Seeing that I had accepted the flower, the hummingbird flew excitedly around me. "Chirp, chirp~ chirp~ chirp~..."

I allowed the hummingbird to be insolent around me; she was, perhaps, the first friend I had ever had in this forest. With her presence, the place where I lived was no longer as cold and desolate as before. Every day, I could hear beautiful songs and see lovely flowers. I no longer discarded the flowers she brought; instead, I used my spiritual energy to preserve them, creating a small sea of blossoms inside the cave.

Occasionally, I would even guide her in her cultivation. For a small spirit like a hummingbird, her demon power was weak; if she could not take human form, her lifespan would generally not exceed a hundred years.

I suddenly felt a surge of fear. Having finally grown accustomed to her company, if she were to suddenly pass away, would I never again see a silly bird singing for me on the branches or bringing me the first flower of the morning? As the guardian of this forest, I would not allow such a thing to happen.

I began to demand that she cultivate with me every day, but she had little focus and would sneak away after only a moment of meditation. I had no choice but to channel a small stream of my spiritual energy into her body daily. Every day I gave her a little bit, and it was enough to rival the results of her own cultivation, extending her life by a hundred years. With the influx of spiritual energy, her feathers grew increasingly magnificent.

In the blink of an eye, a hundred years passed, and I finally cultivated my final tail, becoming a nine-tailed fox. However, attaining the ninth tail required surviving the Heavenly Lightning Tribulation, and the chance of success was less than thirty percent. Yet, no matter how dangerous it was, I had to try. Every fox knew that the difference between an eight-tailed and a nine-tailed fox was far more than just a single tail.

Dark clouds gathered above the cave, forcing the beasts of the forest to submit. The hummingbird, suppressed by the pressure of the tribulation, found it hard to breathe. She lay prostrate on the ground, trembling and unable to move. Seeing this, I cast several barriers and placed her inside. Once inside, her situation improved.

The lightning began to gather, and through the clouds, streaks of electricity converged. In an instant, lightning flashed! The first bolt, as thick as a chopstick, struck down! I used my cultivation to withstand it; the first strike was relatively easy.

I groomed my singed tail fur and prepared for the second. After a brief respite, the second bolt gathered and struck with a thunderous crash! The lightning descended from above my head, clearly different from the first. It was significantly thicker, and after being struck, my entire body went numb, and the scent of roasted meat began to emanate from within.

The hummingbird became restless within the barrier, sensing the danger. "Chirp! Chirp! Chirp!"

I looked toward her, steeling myself for the third bolt. The ground beneath my feet had been scorched black, and the surrounding trees had been shattered, some split in two. I stood alone on the desolate, scarred earth.

"Crash!"

The third bolt, now the thickness of a small finger, struck my head, threatening to pierce straight through my soul. I collapsed to the ground, hastily shoving a medicinal herb into my mouth and swallowing it; the wounds on my body healed by seven or eight parts.

Both the hummingbird and I breathed a temporary sigh of relief. A shallow crater had formed in the scorched earth, and I stood up once more. "Continue!"

"Crash!"

The fourth bolt, as thick as a middle finger, struck my body. My fur was no longer as lustrous as it had once been. The hummingbird cried out in the barrier, "Chirp! Chirp, chirp, chirp! Brother Eight-Tail!"

I collapsed into the crater, looking weakly toward her with a sense of comfort in my eyes. Look, she could speak now. She called me Brother Eight-Tail. I must hold on...

"Brother Eight-Tail! Chirp, chirp, chirp! Chirp!"

I had no time to react before the fifth bolt struck. Then the sixth, the seventh, the eighth! There was no interval between them, and the bolts visibly thickened.

"Ah!"

I lay in the deep pit, blood flowing from every part of my body. My stomach churned, and a taste of fishy sweetness welled up, spilling from the corner of my mouth. My consciousness began to scatter. I seemed to see two hummingbirds... and the bird's nest atop my cave filled with flowers, and those blossoms that still bloomed—all brought back by the little one each day...

Little one... it seems your Brother Eight-Tail... was too arrogant after all...