“I heard this is an antique shop. Do you accept items here?”

Fang Qiu pushed open the intricately carved door, which proved to be heavier than she had imagined. It took her a moment to adjust to the dim lighting inside, where flickering candle flames cast shifting shadows. Behind the counter, steeped in an air of antiquity, sat a young man.

He was dressed in a simple black Zhongshan suit, his features ordinary at first glance. Yet, embroidered on his right shoulder was a striking deep-red dragon head, so lifelike that its piercing eyes seemed to follow her every movement.

“We do,” the young shop owner replied, setting aside the book he had been reading and offering her an enigmatic smile.

Fang Qiu’s heart skipped a beat. In that instant, it felt as if he had become an entirely different person—his expression calm, yet exuding an inexplicable air of mystery.

Lowering her gaze to avoid his penetrating stare, she quickly approached the counter and placed the bundle of newspapers she had been holding onto its surface.

“I found these while clearing out an old box during my move. I’m not sure if they’re worth anything. They seemed weird to keep at home, but throwing them away would be a waste… Um, please take a look,” she murmured as she began unwrapping the newspapers, revealing scattered fragments of bamboo slips.

Just as she was about to unfold the entire bundle, she noticed the shop owner’s breath hitch. Without warning, he placed his cold hand over hers, stopping her mid-motion.

Startled, Fang Qiu glanced up. To her surprise, he wasn’t looking at her at all but was fixated on the bamboo slips with an intensity that seemed almost otherworldly.

She instinctively pulled her hand away, watching as he meticulously unwrapped the newspaper, his every movement deliberate. The chill of his touch lingered—unnaturally cold, unlike any normal person’s.

“How much would you be willing to sell these for?” The shop owner’s tone was calm, but his gaze remained locked on the fragments within the papers.

Fang Qiu hesitated. She had never expected these broken bamboo pieces to hold any value—what intrigued her more was their origin.

“What’s written on these them?” she asked, chuckling at herself as soon as the words left her lips. 

The inscriptions were clearly written in seal script.

How could an ordinary person recognize them at a glance?

The shop owner, however, answered swiftly. “This contains passages from the ‘Classic of Mountains and Seas.’ Judging by the content, it seems to be from the ‘Records of Regions Within the Northern Seas.'”

A faint sense of disappointment washed over her. She had been hoping for something more thrilling, like a martial arts manual, or perhaps, a treasure map. Instead, it turned out to be an ancient text that had survived the ages.

“Well, name your price,” she said with a resigned shrug. “I accidentally broke three of the pieces while packing. The rest probably aren’t complete either, just a scattered collection…”

Before she could finish, the shop owner casually mentioned a number that left her utterly speechless. Her eyes widened, and she drew in a sharp breath. For a student like her, the figure he had named was beyond comprehension.

“So, what do you say? Is it agreeable?” The shop owner finally lifted his gaze, and for the first time, he studied her with a look of quiet intensity.

Before arriving, Fang Qiu had mentally prepared herself to negotiate. But upon hearing that astronomical figure, she lost all resolve and hastily nodded, afraid the shop owner might change his mind.

After all, these were just things her family considered as trash. If it weren’t for her insistence, her mother would have thrown them away long ago.

Before she could recover from the shock, Fang Qiu watched as the young shop owner pulled out a pitch-black ceramic jar from somewhere. With a casual motion, he tipped it over the counter, sending tightly bundled stacks of crisp hundred-yuan banknotes spilling out.

The sight nearly made Fang Qiu’s eyes pop out of their sockets.

Who in their right mind kept such an absurd amount of cash lying around so nonchalantly in a shop?

“Don’t worry. these are all genuine currency,” the shop owner said calmly. “I used to keep gold ingots here, but even if I gave you those, you wouldn’t know how to verify their authenticity.” He pushed the bundles of cash toward her, then turned his attention back to the bamboo slips, entirely absorbed in his study of them.

Fang Qiu stared speechlessly at the mountain of cash for a long while, her fingers trembling as she tentatively touched the bundles to confirm they were indeed real banknotes. However, her nerves only tightened further.

Was she supposed to just walk home carrying this kind of money in her arms?

The shop owner, noticing her prolonged silence, lifted his head and questioned her, “Is there something else you need?”

Clearing her throat awkwardly, she ventured, “Could you… maybe give me a plastic bag?”

How else was she supposed to carry all this?

Just then, a cheerful voice called out from the doorway. “Hello! I’m here! I passed by the soup dumpling shop today and saw they had a new special stuffed soup dumpling, so I bought some to try. Huh? Where is he?”

The doctor walked in, carrying two steaming boxes of soup dumplings, only to find the owner was nowhere to be seen behind the counter.

Shrugging it off, he casually placed the boxes on the counter. One of the stacked boxes, however, slipped and toppled onto the newspaper-wrapped bamboo slips, creating a soft but distinct crack.

“What do you think you’re doing?” A chilling voice drifted from behind the screen. Before the words had fully settled, the shop owner appeared behind the counter like a gust of wind. His expression darkened as his gaze fell upon the box resting atop the newspapers.

A cold sweat broke out down the doctor’s back. He immediately clasped his hands together in apology. “I thought it was just newspapers! I didn’t know there was anything inside! How… How much is it? I’ll pay for it!” 

He gritted his teeth. Little did he know, the true value of those bamboo slips could cost him years of servitude—no matter how many years he worked, he would never be able to repay the debt.

The owner carefully lifted the box, only to find one bamboo slip had snapped. With a heavy sigh, he admitted to himself that it was partly his fault for not putting the fragile slips away sooner.

These ancient bamboo slips, long dried out, were fragile beyond measure. Each one was barely 1 cm wide and just over 20 cm long, their texture now as soft as noodles, making them impossible to handle without damage.

He never would have thought that this guy would show up the moment he stepped away briefly to fetch a proper container.

Narrowing his phoenix-like eyes, the shop owner let out another resigned sigh. “It’s fine. What’s broken is broken—it’s the will of fate,” he said softly.

Over the years, he had seen countless antiques crumble to dust before his eyes. To agonize over every single one would leave him no room to dwell on anything else. After all, the doctor had meant no harm, and no matter how angry he was, there was nothing to be done.

The doctor let out a relieved breath. He was well aware of the owner’s temperament—if he said it didn’t matter, then it truly didn’t. Even so, he still felt guilty for damaging one of the slips.

Searching for a way to make amends, he scrutinized the broken piece and asked hesitantly, “Can this be glued back together? Also… what exactly is written on it?”

The shop owner leaned closer for a better look and began to read aloud in a measured tone, “’The Huán Gǒu has the head of a beast and the body of a human. Another description states it resembles a hedgehog in the shape of a dog, with a yellow coat.’ This passage comes from the Records of Regions Within the Northern Seas in the Classic of Mountains and Seas.”

“A beast with an animal’s head and a human’s body? That’s a monster! It doesn’t make any scientific sense!” The doctor frowned, trying to imagine a dog’s head attached to a human body, then shrugged. “But then again, it’s just a myth. Nothing surprising.”

The owner was about to respond but abruptly fell silent, his gaze locking onto something behind the doctor.

The doctor, confused by the intensity of his stare, hesitated before attempting to glance over his shoulder. Just as he was about to turn around, the owner suddenly grabbed his wrist and yanked him toward the corridor.

Caught off guard, the doctor stumbled forward, helplessly dragged along at a sprint.

It was the first time he had seen the shop owner in such a state of urgency. It was almost as though… as though something was chasing them.

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than he heard heavy footsteps thudding behind them.

Someone—or something—was indeed behind them!

Yet he was certain no one had entered the shop moments ago!

The corridor was shrouded in darkness. Instinctively, the doctor pulled out his phone to use its flashlight. Turning back for a quick glance, he directed the beam behind him. What he saw froze his mind into an agonizing silence.

Though what he had seen was hazy in the faint light, the shadowy figure had the unmistakable shape of a human body with the terrifying face of a vicious dog.

A dog-headed human!

Huán Gǒu!

The mythical creature was just real—it was right behind them!

His legs nearly gave out beneath him.

“Don’t faint. I can’t carry you,” the owner’s calm voice called out from the dark ahead, tinged with quiet indifference. “And, honestly, this is your fault.”

The doctor felt an odd sense of reassurance in the shop owner’s unshaken tone and managed to stammer, “Is it… because of the bamboo slip I broke?”

“Yes.” The owner’s reply was cool and deliberate. “I suspected these bamboo slips were unusual from the start, but I didn’t expect them to be an early draft of the Classic of Mountains and Seas. Each slip inscribed with the name of a mythical creature also seals that very being within it.”

He then added, “You’re lucky you didn’t break the slip that recorded a location. Otherwise, you might have been instantly transported to Kunlun, Qingqiu, or some other mythical realm, and you’d never return.”

The doctor was too frightened to utter a word, wondering if the shop owner secretly wished he would be teleported away instead.

It was then that he realized the corridor behind the antique shop was far longer than expected. They had been running for what felt like an eternity without reaching its end.

At last, the owner halted before a door, pushed it open, and ushered the doctor inside.

The doctor let out a breath of relief and instinctively reached back to shut the door tight, only to be stopped by the shop owner, who left it slightly ajar.

“Stand in the corner and don’t move. If anything happens, I won’t be saving you,” the shop owner instructed coldly. “Also, it’s best if you close your eyes.”

The doctor pressed himself into the corner as instructed, but he couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes. Instead, his gaze darted around.

The room was small, reminiscent of the one where he had once discovered the mermaid candle, though this one was completely empty, with nothing out of the ordinary in sight.

As the sound of heavy footsteps approaching from the corridor echoed ominously, the doctor couldn’t help but glance at the owner who stood motionless in the center of the room. Despite the immense faith he had in the owner, a creeping sense of unease settled in.

Bang! 

A massive, fur-covered hand slammed the door open. A hulking shadow loomed in the doorway before stepping into the room without hesitation.

Judging by its size, the creature was at least 2 meters tall, its muscular build radiated an overwhelming sense of raw power. The doctor held his breath, his mind racing with thoughts of whether playing dead might actually work in this situation.

Ding… 

A soft and ethereal chime suddenly resonated through the air.

The ground beneath them suddenly illuminated, the light spreading across the entire floor in response to the sound.

Only then did the doctor realize that the floor of the room was made of a single seamless pane of glass. Beneath it lay an expanse of ancient stone, their surfaces etched with strange symbols and illustrations. He had no idea what material these markings were made of, but in the darkness, they shone like ghostly embers.

In that light, the doctor caught his first proper glimpse of Huán Gǒu. Its physique was less human and more akin to a towering, fur-covered ape. Its head was unmistakably that of a snarling wolfhound, complete with glowing green eyes that now glared menacingly at the shop owner, who stood unmoving at the room’s center.

Ding… 

The chime echoed again, this time followed by an explosion of light from the stone beneath the glass. The brilliance engulfed the entire room, momentarily turning the darkness into the brightness of daylight.

The doctor had no idea how those stones could radiate such intensity. As a medical professional, he knew the brightness was already threatening his vision. When it finally faded, he dared to open his eyes again. The stones beneath the glass returned to their soft green glow, slowly dimming until the room was once more swallowed by darkness.

The owner remained standing where he was, and the fearsome Huán Gǒu was nowhere to be seen.

“What… what just happened?” the doctor rasped, his voice hoarse from sheer terror.

“It’s over,” the shop owner replied in his usual calm tone. “The masonry beneath this room are remnants of an ancient altar. Each stone was once used to seal away creatures from the past, meaning they still retain their power as seals. I didn’t hold on much hope, but luckily for us, Huán Gǒu had been sealed for thousands of years and had already lost most of its powers.”

With that, the owner turned and walked out, not sparing the doctor another glance.

The doctor looked down at the floor. The stones were no longer glowing, and the room was plunged into pitch darkness. He didn’t dare linger to confirm whether Huán Gǒu had been resealed into one of them, but the thought of countless such creatures might still be sealed beneath his feet sent shivers through him. Without hesitation, he scrambled to follow the shop owner out into the corridor.

However, the doctor failed to notice—right where he had been standing moments ago, one of the ancient bricks hadn’t fully dimmed. As he walked, a faint glow flickered from beneath the thick glass, trailing after him like a firefly.

Silent and unseen, it eventually settled on his shoulder.

The owner, sensing something amiss, glanced back. But the glow instantly shifted, hiding itself behind the doctor. Seeing nothing unusual, the owner continued without comment.

Watching the owner’s back, the doctor muttered softly to himself, “That ancient altar saved his hide, sure. But honestly, sealing away a monster that’s been around for thousands of years just like that? Who’s the real monster here?”

He shuddered as he recalled Huán Gǒu’s grotesque face. “But seriously, that thing was hideous. Couldn’t it have been at least a little better-looking? Imagine if it had a husky’s face instead…”

The thought made him shake with laughter.

As if responding to his musings, the faint glow on his shoulder flickered briefly.

The owner’s pace was brisk, and by the time the doctor had rounded the jade screen and re-entered the shop, he found the owner standing behind the counter, staring intently at the bamboo slips with a grave expression. It was then the doctor remembered that there was more than one slip had been broken.

“Sanqingniao, Jiliangma, Qiongqi…” the owner murmured. “These three were broken by that girl earlier. It seems we’ll have our hands full.”

Curious, the doctor pulled out his phone and did a quick search. Within seconds, he had details on the three creatures. 

“Oh! Sān Qīng Niǎ—the Three-Legged Green Bird. They sound harmless enough. Jiliangma, the white horse with fiery red manes and golden eyes; also pretty gentle. But Qiongqi… Whoa! This thing looks ferocious! A winged, man-eating tiger? If that showed up in the city, it’d be all over the news!”

The owner shook his head. “Not necessarily. Qiongqi understands human language. After being sealed for thousands of years, its form may have changed, and its powers might have weakened.”

While they were deep in discussion, Fang Qiu was carefully making her way home, clutching the plastic bag of cash close to her chest.

Just as she neared her house, a soft, weak cry caught her attention. A tiny fluffy white kitten emerged from the shadows as it staggered toward her. Its adorableness was utterly disarming, causing Fang Qiu to stop in her tracks.

Qiongqi raised its frail paw, intending to leave a mark on the woman who had dared to pick it up without consent. Yet, it soon realized, with a pang of sorrow, that after being sealed for millennia, stripped of its powers by Emperor Shun, it was now nothing more than a harmless young beast.

“Awroo—” 

Damn it! Even its once-mighty roar now sounded as feeble as a kitten’s mewl!

To its dismay, the woman seemed utterly delighted by its pathetic cries. Despite its vigorous protestations, she carried it inside her home without hesitation.

Meow, meow, meow— No! It didn’t want to go back! It had painstakingly escaped through that ridiculously high window, and now this woman thought she could imprison it again?

What’s more, this woman bore an uncanny resemblance to the shamaness who had served Emperor Shun all those centuries ago. Could she truly have lived for so long, defying death itself?

Recalling how it had been humiliated back then, Qiongqi wriggled furiously in an attempt to escape. But its strength, eroded over thousands of years, was no match for her grip.

Still… Qiongqi couldn’t help but sniff deeply, catching a heady scent as the shamaness held it close.

It hadn’t tasted human blood in centuries. The hunger gnawed at it, intensifying with each breath.

Unable to resist, Qiongqi nuzzled closer. With what little strength remained, it turned its head and sank its teeth into her wrist.

The moment its fangs grazed her skin, it was jolted awake by the taste of her blood—fresh, tantalizing, and utterly intoxicating.

Yes… so fresh, so delicious…

Qiongqi tentatively withdrew its fangs, sneaking a glance at the shamaness, bracing itself for her retaliation. To its astonishment, she simply smiled indulgently, quickening her pace as she carried it inside. Setting it down gently, she handed it a shallow dish of water.

“Awroo…” 

No… It didn’t want water. It wanted blood! It had barely even licked her wrist!

As she pushed the dish closer, Qiongqi’s gaze remained fixed on her still-bleeding wrist.

“Awroo…” 

Just one more lick! It was starving!

The dish was nudged closer still, but Qiongqi paid it no attention. Instead, it stretched its head forward, inching closer, tantalized by the scent of her blood…

Splash!

A firm hand pressed its head down into the water, holding it there as if to say it wouldn’t be allowed up until it drank.

Mmmph… Don’t push so hard! 

Didn’t she know its nose and mouth were so close together? 

If this kept up, it might become the first Qiongqi to drown! 

Someone save it! 

Mmph… At this point, it would rather be back inside that sealed bamboo slip!

That cunning shamaness! This was payback for biting her, wasn’t it?

Meanwhile, the doctor exited Ya She with a birdcage in one hand and a trash bag in the other. As he passed a pile of garbage in the alley, he tossed the bag onto the heap. 

The faint glimmer of green light that had been lurking behind him quickly latched onto the plastic. It remained still for a moment, waiting for the surroundings to settle, then quietly floated upward once more.

As it drifted past a discarded pet magazine, its glow illuminated the cover—a majestic husky crouching with a solemn expression.

The green speck of light circled the magazine, studying the image intently. Then, in a sudden burst of emerald radiance, a strikingly fierce husky strode out from the alley, its eyes faintly glowing green.

Clamped between its teeth was the crumpled newspaper that had once wrapped the Classic of Mountains and Seas bamboo slips. The creature lowered its head, inhaling deeply to capture the scent. Then, determining its direction, it sped off at a brisk pace…

Qiongqi, meanwhile, lay sprawled on the couch with its fur soaked and clumped together. Its already small frame had been reduced to little more than a bundle of wet bones, making it look even more pitiful.

After narrowly avoiding drowning in a shallow dish, Qiongqi was unceremoniously plopped into a deeper basin of water. The shamaness used warm water to soak it thoroughly, scrubbing every inch of its fur with some bubbly concoction. Now she was vigorously toweling it dry with one hand while aiming a noisy, heat-blasting contraption at it with the other.

Hah! This shamaness—after all these millennia, even her magical artifacts had advanced! Had she waited all this time just to unleash every possible torment upon it the moment it was freed from its seal?

Qiongqi nearly shed a tear of pity for itself. 

How had it come to this? 

All it ever wanted was to drink human blood—it wasn’t as though it endangered lives! Yet, for that one simple pleasure, Emperor Shun pursued it relentlessly for years before sealing it away in a bamboo slip for thousands of years, only to end up in the clutches of this shamaness.

Meow, meow, meow… It wanted to cry… no, it had to escape when she let her guard down!

Qiongqi wallowed in self-pity for so long that it only noticed its fur had dried when it was suddenly presented with a plate of pinkish food.

It sniffed cautiously—was that… meat?

“Are you hungry, little one? Not sure if sausages suit you, but judging by how you managed to sink your teeth into my wrist earlier, it seems you’ve already grown your fangs!”

Qiongqi tilted its head. It didn’t know what “sausages” were, but the aroma was irresistible. 

Awroo. 

Before it knew it, it had disgracefully started drooling, then caved and took a bite.

Awroo! So good!

“Slow down, little one. There’s plenty more if you like it!”

Qiongqi felt the shamaness’ hand stroke its back. Normally, it hated being touched, but for the sake of this delicious sausage, it decided to endure—just this once.

“What should I call you? Hmm… You’re so white. How about ‘Xiao Bai’?”

Qiongqi almost choked on its own saliva.

Xiao Bai?

It was the legendary Qiongqi! The same Qiongqi that once struck terror into the hearts of men!

What kind of undignified name was that?

No, wait—who gave her the right to name it at all?!

Furious, Qiongqi abandoned its sausage and raised its paws in protest.

“Haha! Looks like you really like the name, Xiao Bai! Xiao Bai!”

Exhausted from its futile resistance, Qiongqi rolled its eyes and decided not to argue. After all, it planned to sneak out as soon as it finished this plate of sausages. By then, she could call it whatever she wanted for all it cared. With that thought, it lowered its head and continued eating.

“Xiao Bai, I have to head out for a bit. Be good while I’m gone, okay? Oh, and I heard it might rain later, so I’ll close all the windows…”

Qiongqi paid no attention to the shamaness’s words, entirely absorbed in devouring its meal. Once the plate was licked clean, it washed its face with a paw, feeling satisfied enough to saunter confidently toward the door.

But as it turned a corner, it froze at the sight of a fluffy, impossibly cute white kitten staring back at it. Qiongqi bristled, its tail standing on end, glaring at this tiny intruder—until it realized that was itself!

H-how terrifying! This shamaness wielded such a powerful mirror capable of exposing its true form!

But… when had it become this small? This… cute?

Qiongqi raised a paw to its nose, catching a whiff of fragrant clung to its own fur.

How was it supposed to intimidate anyone now?

Yet… it didn’t feel bad, either.

Shaking its head, Qiongqi scolded itself. This was no time to grow complacent! It needed to escape while the shamaness was gone! 

But after scurrying around the house for what felt like hours, it was devastated to discover that all the windows had been tightly shut. Once again, it was trapped.

Hmph!

Did the shamaness think it was powerless without its power? 

Never ever underestimate its destructive capabilities!

Qiongqi raised its tiny claws, gleaming with sharp tips, and licked its pink nose.

“Ah! What happened here? Did a thief break in?!”

Lounging lazily on the shredded remains of the sofa, Qiongqi stretched with satisfaction.

Heh! It had torn apart everything in sight, scratched up anything that could be scratched, knocked over everything breakable.

Surely, the shamaness would be so furious that she’d kick it out now, right?

Just as it was reveling in its own brilliance, the shamaness entered, carrying a plush, cozy-looking little house. She set it down carefully in front of Qiongqi.

“Xiao Bai, I got you a new bed! Oh, and this is your litter box. Make sure to use it, okay?” She smiled radiantly, seemingly to have completely forgotten the wreckage surrounding her.

Qiongqi buried its face in its paws and curled up in despair. Clearly, this shamaness was intent on keeping it imprisoned forever. Just as it contemplated alternative escape plans, its thoughts were interrupted by the scent of something new. Before it sat a grayish plate of enticing food that the shamaness called “cat food.”

Uh-oh… After all that running and jumping, Qiongqi realized it had worked up quite an appetite again. With a resigned sigh, it abandoned its escape plan once more and happily buried its face in the bowl of cat food.

“Such a good little one…” Fang Qiu cooed, affectionately stroking Qiongqi’s back.

“Hngh… meow-wu meow-wu…” Qiongqi hummed contentedly, unable to stop eating as it basked in the comfort of her touch.

“Well, well, what do we have here? Is that Qiongqi meowing like a common cat? You have utterly shamed the honor of us ancient divine beasts!” A cold and mocking voice suddenly rang out, making Qiongqi’s fur bristle in alarm.

Who’s there?!

It whipped its head around and saw a towering, imposing dog emerge from behind the shamaness.

“Huán Gǒu? You’re here too? This is my territory! Get lost!” Qiongqi arched its back, bristling with hostility. Moments ago, it had been scheming its escape, but the moment an intruder appeared, its first instinct was to defend its domain.

“Your territory? Heh, sorry to disappoint you, but I was also picked up by this shamaness—who, I might add, once served by Emperor Shun’s side. So, this place is mine as well.” Huán Gǒu lowered its head, wearing an expression of shameless flattery as it nuzzled against the shamaness’ leg.

Shameless! 

Qiongqi fumed internally, seething with indignation.

Fang Qiu giggled, rubbing Huán Gǒu’s head before leading it to the bathroom for a bath. Remembering the “torture” it had endured earlier, Qiongqi crept to the doorway, eager to see how Huán Gǒu would resist. To its shock, Huán Gǒu remained perfectly still, allowing the shamaness to douse it with warm water, lather it with fragrant bubbles, and even blast it with the noisy heat contraption.

Qiongqi watched in disbelief as Huán Gǒu turned to flash it a knowing smile. Then, taking advantage of the moment, Huán Gǒu licked the shamaness’ hand—and slyly grazed the spot on her wrist where Qiongqi had bitten her earlier.

A shiver ran down Qiongqi’s spine.

How could it have forgotten? 

Huán Gǒu was infamous for its cunning. Clearly, it was cozying up to the shamaness for her blood. Qiongqi had only tasted a tiny bit and already felt a surge of power. If Huán Gǒu managed a full sip… Qiongqi let out a furious growl and lunged at Huán Gǒu.

It had found the shamaness first!

The two ancient beasts immediately began to brawl in the bathroom. Had this been thousands of years ago, their battle would have shaken the heavens and sundered the earth.

Now, however, it was merely a cat and a dog squabbling in Fang Qiu’s eyes. 

One moment, the big dog pinned the little cat to the ground; the next, the cat clawed at the dog’s ears and leaped onto its back. They rolled into the water, emerging soaked and bedraggled, only to resume their tussle. The bathroom echoed with a cacophony of meows and barks as they darted back and forth in their chaotic skirmish.

“Enough! Stop fighting, Xiao Bai. Do you need another bath too?” Fang Qiu, drenched from head to toe, finally lost her patience. She grabbed Qiongqi by the scruff of its neck and separated the two.

“Xiao Bai? Heh, that name suits you perfectly!” Huán Gǒu sneered silently, baring its teeth in mockery.

Qiongqi let out a cold laugh. “Don’t get your hopes up about your name either. This shamaness’s naming sense is atrocious!”

As the cat and dog continued to glare daggers at each other, Fang Qiu nagged, “Da Hei, don’t bully Xiao Bai. You’re family now, so you’d better get along!”

Da Hei?

Huán Gǒu’s eyes widened in disbelief. This shamaness actually dared to name it “Big Black”?

Qiongqi, on the other hand, was rolling on the floor, howling with laughter.

Before Huán Gǒu could regain its composure, an excited voice called out from above.

“Got it! I got it!”

The doctor leaped down from the tree, holding an ancient-looking birdcage. Inside was a small three-legged green bird with shimmering feathers and a delicate frame. It let out a crisp and melodious call that resonated through the night.

The doctor leaned closer, marveling at the mythical creature. Most of its feathers were a brilliant green, but its head and wingtips gleamed a crimson hue, and its jet-black eyes glistened like polished obsidian. The bird was no larger than his palm, and had he not looked carefully, he might’ve missed the third leg hidden beneath its delicate frame.

“Boss, how did you know hanging a birdcage in the parasol tree would catch a Sanqingniao?” The doctor tentatively reached out to touch its feathers, only to pull back quickly as the bird snapped its beak at his fingers. Thankfully, he barely avoided being pecked.

The shop owner chuckled softly, “Sanqingniao is said to be a precursor to the phoenix, and phoenixes are known to perch in parasol trees. This park happens to have the only ancient phoenix tree in the area. The birdcage was bound to lure it in.”

The doctor glanced down at the ornate cage, hesitating. “This little bird’s so beautiful… does it really need to be sealed? From what I’ve read, it used to be nothing more than Queen Mother of the West’s messenger…”

“Legend has it, that Emperor Shun sought to consolidate his rule by eliminating all divine beasts, monstrous creatures, and the tribes and nations beyond the Huaxia descendants. That’s how our history transitioned from the Mythological Age to the Human Age. Yet I never imagined that even Emperor Shun’s power could only seal these wonders within the original manuscript of the Classic of Mountains and Seas.”

The owner sighed deeply, his mind heavy with the realization that what he possessed was merely one scroll—Records of Regions Within the Northern Seas—from the original Classic of Mountains and Seas. Seventeen others remained unaccounted for, their whereabouts unknown. Better they stay buried, he thought, lost in some forgotten depths of the earth, never to be uncovered.

A barely perceptible frown flickered across his face as he watched the doctor amuse himself, poking at Sanqingniao with gleeful curiosity. 

“I want to keep it,” the doctor announced suddenly. Noticing the owner’s gaze shifted to him, he clutched the birdcage protectively to his chest, as if afraid it would be snatched from him.

The owner seemed unsurprised. He then sighed. “This bird was pampered by dedicated attendants in the Queen Mother of the West’s court. It’s far more delicate than the dog you’ve been keeping at home. Between your endless hospital shifts, when would you even have time to care for it properly?”

The doctor hesitated, but his resolve didn’t waver as he stubbornly refused to relinquish the birdcage.

As if understanding the argument, Sanqingniao blinked its tiny emerald eyes and tilted its head adorably, then nudged its fiery red head against the doctor’s hand resting on the cage.

The doctor clutched the birdcage even tighter, his expression as guarded as if someone were about to snatch it away. 

The owner, amused by his wariness, allowed a faint smile to curve his lips. “Alright. This birdcage has been empty for a millennium anyway. I’ll keep the Sanqingniao safe here at Ya She for you. But you’re paying for its food.”

The doctor nodded so quickly that it was almost comical. 

How much could such a tiny bird possibly eat? 

He could afford that, no problem!

“But lend me the bird for now,” the owner continued, stepping closer. “I need its help to find the Jiliangma.”

He bent down to address the Sanqingniao directly, “I’m sure you know Jiliangma. It’s dangerous for it to be wandering freely here. If it’s willing, I happen to have a scroll from the Land of the Dog-Furred People that could send it home.”

The doctor’s heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t help but think how fortunate he was to have only broken the bamboo slip containing Huán Gǒu. If it had been one of the slips tied to a location, he might have accidentally unleashed an alternate dimension—one he likely wouldn’t have been able to escape. 

For Jiliangma, however, such a fate would be ideal.

The Sanqingniao tilted its tiny head as if mulling over the owner’s offer. After a moment, it fluttered its delicate wings and let out a penetrating call that soared into the night, resonating like a melodic bell through the still air.

Luckily, they were deep in the outskirts, surrounded by trees and quiet parklands. Otherwise, such an extraordinary sound would have surely attracted unwelcome attention.

It wasn’t long before the distant sound of hooves approached through the trees, and a magnificent white horse emerged from between the trunks. With its fiery red mane and gleaming golden eyes, there could be no mistake—this was the legendary Jiliangma they were searching for.

Yet, the more the doctor looked at it, the more he couldn’t shake the feeling that the horse’s face bore an uncanny resemblance to a certain iconic Grass Mud Horse meme.

“Now we’re just missing Qiongqi, right?” the doctor mused. “That’s strange. A winged tiger should be even more conspicuous in the city than a bird or horse. Why isn’t there any news about it?”

The owner narrowed his eyes slightly and remarked with deliberate calm, “I looked further into it. Qiongqi isn’t as simple as it seems. It was originally the rebellious offspring of Shaohao, the Western Celestial Emperor—which means this creature possesses the ability to assume human form.”

The doctor froze, a chill crawling down his spine. “Human form? That’s bad news then. No wonder there haven’t been any tiger sightings. It must have disguised itself as a person. Looking for it in a city is like trying to find a needle in a haystack.”

The owner frowned in thought, his expression growing stern. After a long silence, he muttered, “Perhaps… perhaps it’s there.”

Qiongqi lay motionless in its new nest, wide awake despite the late hour. Its round luminous eyes gleamed in the darkness as it contemplated its predicament.

It had no doubt that this shamaness possessed an arsenal of powerful relics. There was the platform that spewed fire when spun, the enormous cabinet that could freeze things solid, and, most terrifying of all, the small box that seemingly imprisoned countless humans, forcing them to sing, dance, and perform endlessly for her amusement. 

Truly wicked!

What should it do?

Stay here obediently?

No, the thought alone was unbearable!

Not far from Qiongqi’s new bed, Huán Gǒu—now in the form of a husky—was equally restless. In the darkness, its two glowing green eyes fixated hungrily on Fang Qiu, who slept soundly in her bed.

“Hey, Da Hei, how about we call a truce?” Qiongqi licked its paw and stood up, its tone casual yet sly.

“You’re the Da Hei! Your whole family is Da Hei! Tell me! How exactly do you want to settle this, Xiao Bai?” Huán Gǒu also got to its feet, shaking out its fur with an air of dominance.

“Our goal is the same—the shamaness’ blood. We don’t need much, so why fight each other? She’s the real enemy, isn’t she?” Qiongqi said with a mischievous grin.

Huán Gǒu mulled it over and begrudgingly admitted that Qiongqi had a point.

“I’m smaller, so I’ll go first!” Qiongqi declared, seizing the opportunity while Huán Gǒu was still processing the idea. With a swift leap, it landed on Fang Qiu’s bed and began creeping toward the sleeping shamaness. A person was most defenseless when asleep—the perfect chance to drink a few sips of her blood. 

Sure, the sausages and cat food she had given it were delicious, but compared to her blood? Those were nothing!

Huán Gǒu, sensing something amiss, paced anxiously around the bed, careful not to wake Fang Qiu but failed to stop Qiongqi’s advance.

Closer… closer… just one more step…

Qiongqi reached Fang Qiu’s shoulder, preparing to lower its head and sink its teeth into her neck. But in its single-minded focus, the creature completely misjudged the pillow’s plushness—one forepaw sank unexpectedly deep into the downy surface, sending its entire body tumbling into the crook of her neck. 

The impact jolted her awake.

Huán Gǒu immediately covered its eyes with its paws.

Oh no!

It’s over now!

Qiongqi felt a hand clamp around the scruff of its neck, sending a shudder down its spine.

“Xiao Bai, you want to sleep with me? Hehe, come on then!” Fang Qiu said drowsily, giggling as she pulled Qiongqi into the blankets to share her pillow.

Wait, what?

This had to be a joke!

Qiongqi’s face darkened with visible exasperation, its body frozen stiff beneath the blankets. Not daring to move a muscle, it mentally braced for whatever sinister trick the shamaness might spring.

Meanwhile, Huán Gǒu was pacing furiously beneath the bed, silently cursing Qiongqi for being so devious.

Qiongqi lay stiff in the bed for what felt like an eternity, its nerves on edge. But when nothing unusual happened, its courage began to grow. Slowly, it wriggled closer under the blanket, finding the spot on Fang Qiu’s wrist where it had bitten her earlier, and carefully sank its teeth in again.

What a divine taste…

Qiongqi greedily lapped at the blood. With just one lick, it could feel a change beginning to ripple through its body.

As expected of a shamaness who had served Emperor Shun for millennia—her blood was more potent than any magical herb or elixir! 

Not that it surprised Qiongqi. 

With a house full of such powerful relics and possession of Classic of Mountains and Seas bamboo slips, she was likely a descendant of Emperor Shun himself.

Unable to contain its excitement, Qiongqi wriggled out of the blanket. Under the moonlight spilling through the gaps in the curtains, it caught sight of its reflection—black stripes were beginning to appear on its body, and the faint outline of wings was emerging on its back. Indeed, the shamaness’ blood held immense magic. 

Ignoring Huán Gǒu’s low growl of discontent, Qiongqi dove back under the covers to take another lick.

Moonlight filtered through the curtain’s seams, casting a dim glow. Under that ethereal light, Fang Qiu’s blanket suddenly swelled, and a striking man with silver-white hair threw back the covers, shaking his flowing hair and grinning with delight.

It had been so long since Qiongqi had returned to its human form!

A broad, almost childlike grin spread across his face, revealing two sharp tiger-like fangs. He ran his hands through his hair, only to discover a pair of furry tiger ears perched atop his head. Glancing behind him, he spotted a tail swishing leisurely. 

Although he hadn’t fully transformed, he was overjoyed. 

Looking down, he realized he was completely bare. With casual confidence, he grabbed a nearby towel and wrapped it around his waist before giving Huán Gǒu—who was baring its teeth at him—a smug pat on the head and turned his attention to the shamaness.

Her blood was indeed extraordinary!

While his powers hadn’t fully returned, it had been enough to lift part of the seal on his beast form.

Qiongqi rubbed his chin in thought. Suddenly, he noticed something—this shamaness was actually… quite pretty. If he remembered correctly, her name was Fang Qiu.

Heh… after all the trouble she put him through today, it was time for a little payback!

Flashing his sharp little tiger fangs, Qiongqi intentionally contorted his face into a terrifying snarl, inching closer to the sleeping shamaness. He could already picture her startled scream, her expression twisting into one of sheer terror.

Yet… after a long wait, she remained completely undisturbed, her face utterly serene. Her lips were even slightly parted, and a thin line of drool glistened at the corner of her mouth.

Meanwhile, Qiongqi was still stuck in his menacing pose, his arms raised, fingers curled, and his neck starting to ache from holding it for too long.

Damn! Was she really some incredibly powerful shamaness?

Or was she just… really dumb?

She was nothing like the woman he had encountered centuries ago!

With growing frustration, Qiongqi extended a clawed finger and poked her cheek. To his dismay, she simply rolled over and continued to sleep.

“Qiongqi! Move, it’s my turn now!” Huán Gǒu’s front paws rested on the edge of the bed as it growled, glaring at Qiongqi with annoyance.

Qiongqi rubbed his chin, clearly unwilling to give way. Emboldened by the fact that Huán Gǒu wouldn’t dare wake Fang Qiu, and basking in the confidence of having regained his human form, Qiongqi was feeling untouchable. He was just about to toy with Huán Gǒu further when his tiger ears suddenly twitched.

Something was off.

There was an unusual disturbance in the garden outside.

Without hesitation, Qiongqi opened the window and leaped out, utterly unconcerned that they were on the third floor.

Qiongqi landed lightly on the grass without a sound. Striking a triumphant pose with hands on hips, he glanced up at the three-story height he’d just descended—only then remembering the absurdity of his current attire was nothing but a loosely tied bath towel.

He smirked to himself. 

Escaping that shamaness was easier than expected. 

For a moment, he considered simply vanishing into the night—though a traitorous part of him already missed those sausages and cat food she had fed him…

“Qiongqi. It really is you,” a voice, laced with amusement, suddenly broke the stillness of the night.

“Who’s there?” Qiongqi raised an eyebrow in surprise.

How had someone recognized him in human form?

Unbeknownst to him, the tiger ears atop his head and the tail swishing behind him were a dead giveaway. 

He squinted toward the source of the voice, seeing nothing but inky blackness. He stepped forward cautiously, and only then did he barely make out the shape of a deep crimson dragon lurking in the darkness, watching him with an unmistakably predatory gaze.

“Who are you?” Qiongqi growled, his voice low and threatening. He despised the sensation of being watched from the shadows, as though he were prey.

“Who I am doesn’t matter,” the figure in the shadows said with a soft chuckle. “Though, perhaps this is something you recognize?”

A pale, slender hand extended from the shadow, holding a jade seal that glimmered with an ethereal light. Qiongqi’s face darkened instantly. “The Imperial Jade Seal of Emperor Shun? Are you here to seal me again?”

Qiongqi’s mind raced as he surveyed his surroundings, his eyes darting to every corner in search of an escape. But dread set in when he caught sight of a white hem peeking out near the only visible exit. 

This man had brought backup.

If his powers were restored, he might have stood a chance, even against the Imperial Jade Seal of Emperor Shun. Yet in his current state, just being near the seal made his breath shallow and labored.

Damn it—if only he had drunk more of the shamaness’s blood!

He had no intention of spending another few millennia locked away.

“Seal you?” The man in the shadows laughed again, his tone light but laced with something sharp. “The princess was the one who broke your seal—surely she has her reasons. I wouldn’t dare defy her wishes.”

Qiongqi froze.

Princess?

The shamaness was a princess?

No wonder her blood was so potent…

That explained why her blood was so special—she really was Emperor Shun’s descendant?

Then these two must be her retainers, here to stop him from escaping?

His brain—never his strongest asset—was even slower after millennia of confinement, and his time spent being pampered as a cat hadn’t helped. But even with his delayed reaction, he recognized an opportunity when he saw one. He hurriedly asked, “Then… what do you want me to do?”

“It’s simple,” the man replied without hesitation. “Swear an oath. You will never harm anyone again. You will obey the princess’s commands without question, and if she passes, you will seek out her reincarnation and protect her for all eternity.”

Qiongqi’s gaze lingered on the Imperial Jade Seal of Emperor Shun, which was still glowing brilliantly in the dark. He weighed his options—being sealed away for eternity again, or being treated as someone’s pet—and in the span of a single blink, he made his choice.

“By the way,” Qiongqi added, his pride refusing to let him suffer alone, “Huán Gǒu’s here too.” Without missing a beat, he pointed toward the hallway, loudly proclaiming, “There! He’s right over there!”

“You little bastard!”

Huán Gǒu, who had been attempting to slink away unnoticed, was so enraged he stormed out on the spot. 

Having fully regained human form after tasting Fang Qiu’s blood—unlike Qiongqi with his lingering ears and tail—he now stood as a strikingly handsome man with an icy, dignified aura.

No one would ever guess this imposing figure was once a shaggy, dog-headed monstrosity… had Qiongqi not so helpfully outed him.

The man in the shadows chuckled again, now turning the glowing Imperial Jade Seal of Emperor Shun toward Huán Gǒu.

The moment Huán Gǒu laid eyes on the seal, a crushing pressure descended upon him, making cold sweat bead on his forehead.

Memories of his near-sealing back at the antique shop flooded back. If not for the presence of an ordinary human he could latch onto, he would have been turned into a lifeless stone. 

He didn’t doubt for a second that the man before him possessed the power to reseal him, so he wasted no time in swearing an oath, just as Qiongqi had done.

No sooner had Huán Gǒu finished his oath than Fang Qiu’s anxious voice echoed from the stairwell. She was calling out for her “Xiao Bai” and “Da Hei” with heartfelt urgency.

Huán Gǒu immediately transformed back into his husky form, his tail drooping in resignation.

Qiongqi, equally resigned, turned back into a small fluffy white cat—only to scowl in frustration that the man emerging from the shadows was a plain, ordinary-looking young man.

The deep crimson dragon Qiongqi had glimpsed earlier turned out to be nothing more than an embroidery on the man’s black robe. Qiongqi bared his teeth, his suspicion mounting—had he been deceived?

But when the man effortlessly picked him up, the chilling cold of his touch made Qiongqi shudder involuntarily.

This man was no ordinary human!

In that instant, Qiongqi felt deeply reassured that he had made the right decision.

“Xiao Bai? Why are you out here? Da Hei too? Huh? You’re the boss from the antique shop?” Fang Qiu’s voice rang out as she hurried into the garden. Her surprise grew as she saw her cherished Xiao Bai nestled in the hands of none other than the antique shop’s owner.

The owner’s expression was warm and genial as he handed Qiongqi over. “I was just passing by and noticed this little white cat looking rather pitiful. I didn’t expect it to have escaped from your home. Xiao Bai? Hmm, it’s a fitting name for him.”

Qiongqi buried his face in Fang Qiu’s arms, his soul weighed down by the thought of carrying such a foolish name for the rest of his life. Huán Gǒu, equally despondent, drooped his head and sulked nearby.

“Uh… thanks…” Fang Qiu murmured, though she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. Still, it was late, and having found Xiao Bai and Da Hei, she decided it was time to head home. “I’ll be on my way now.”

The owner watched Fang Qiu’s retreating figure before calling out with exaggerated helpfulness. “In a few months, this kitten and puppy will be fully grown. Be sure to arrange neutering surgery for them—otherwise, your home will become a complete mess.”

Then, as if worried that Qiongqi and Huán Gǒu might not understand, he helpfully added in an ancient phrasing, “Neutering surgery, in other words, ‘even a gelded boar’s tusks may bring good fortune.'”

Awroo! 

Awroo! 

Bark! 

Bark! 

Awroo—!

Qiongqi and Huán Gǒu’s anguished cries pierced through the night sky.

“That’s it? No need to seal them away?” 

A voice came from the courtyard entrance. The doctor wiped the sweat from his forehead, looking both relieved and skeptical.

The owner chuckled softly. “Seal them? Even the ancient altar’s remnants couldn’t even properly contain Huán Gǒu. As for Qiongqi, he’s the son of the Western Celestial Emperor Shaohao. There’s no way I could seal him on my own.

“But rest assured, their vows carry contractual effects—should they break them, they’ll suffer the consequences. Their physical forms will vanish, and their souls will never be reincarnated.”

“Huh? I thought you were relying on that Imperial Jade Seal of Emperor Shun…” The doctor was confused.

“This?” The shop owner flipped his palm, revealing the Imperial Jade Seal of Emperor Shun resting quietly in his hand. Under the dim light, his smile took on an air of unfathomable mystery.

“Heh… Who told you that everything in Ya She was authentic?”

“…”