Born Without Tears

The beauty in red parted his crimson lips and raised a jade-green xiao to them. The flute's notes overflowed with lingering tenderness, soft threads teasing at the heart as though inviting every listener beneath red curtains to share in love's pleasures.

Song Qingshi's mother had been an internationally renowned pianist. Under her influence, music had become Song Qingshi's sole interest beyond his studies. In the final days of his life, all his bodily functions had failed, but his mind had remained exceptionally clear.

His mother had spent a fortune installing the finest sound system in his hospital room, where music played without cease. Through every connection she had, she had also engaged leading performers from every field to put on a small concert for him each day.

Music had pulled him back from the brink of despair and soothed his heart. That unusual time had made Song Qingshi extraordinarily sensitive to the emotions in music: he could hear a performer's gentleness in a rousing piano piece, and find hidden encouragement in a sorrowful, plaintive zither melody...

Yet now, within the tender, amorous notes of the xiao, he heard a familiar struggle and despair.

At last, Song Qingshi lifted his head. Stunned, he stared at that phoenix blazing with vermilion light, unable to look away.

When Jin Feiren saw that Song Qingshi had finally taken an interest in a beauty, he was overjoyed. "Immortal Venerable Song, are you interested in this slave? His name is Yue Wuhuan. He was born with seductive bones, and he has the rarest kind of single wood spiritual root. He can take a great deal in bed—the more he is worked over, the more wanton he becomes. Everyone who has tried him sings his praises. Would Your Venerable Self care to have a taste first?"

The blatant sales pitch made Song Qingshi's ears redden. He hurriedly withdrew his gaze and said hoarsely, "No need."

"Immortal Venerable Yaowang keeps himself pure and has no taste for such things, so don't force him, old friend." Immortal Venerable Lingbao came over, pointed at Yue Wuhuan, and sighed. "I recall this being a first-rate piece Xie Que sold, no? In all the Immortal Realm, he is still the best at raising beauties. Each one has more flavor than the last. Ah, you and he are truly close, old friend. Whatever fine merchandise he has, he sells it to you first."

Jin Feiren waved a hand. "Not at all, not at all. He is close to thirty hu of merfolk pearls."

Immortal Venerable Lingbao burst out laughing. "If one could measure friendship in money, old friend, you would be the most well-connected man under heaven. Come, come—let us drink three cups together and celebrate the pleasures of love."

Jin Feiren laughed as well, ordering the youth in his arms to fill their cups. He drank with Immortal Venerable Lingbao.

Immortal Venerable Lingbao had already drunk quite a bit. Mildly tipsy, he lounged against the table and listened to the xiao, sighing. "I remember when this beauty first arrived. Even under the Joyous Union Brand's control, he had been unwilling when made to entertain guests, which made sampling him especially interesting. Now that he has become so wanton, it is a different flavor altogether. Clearly, old friend, your methods are superb."

Jin Feiren shook his head. "A pity that no matter how he is worked over, this beauty never cries. Born without tears—ultimately, that takes away some of the fun."

Hearing a professional matter, Song Qingshi could not help answering, "Being born without tears may be a problem with the tear-duct secretion system."

Jin Feiren sat stunned for a long while. He genuinely wanted to befriend Song Qingshi, but he truly could not follow the thought process of a medical fanatic. All he could do was laugh awkwardly and change the subject. "Don't be fooled by how wanton this beauty is. Back in the mortal world, he was a prince, honored as gold and precious as jade. When he was eight, Xie Que discovered during one of his searches for beauties in the mortal realm that the boy had exceptional aptitude. He displayed his divine powers, gave the emperor a life-extending pill, praised his son for possessing a spiritual root, and said he wished to take him as a disciple. The old emperor was beside himself with joy and happily handed his son over to the immortal master. Xie Que is quite an interesting fellow. He properly takes mortals with spiritual roots as disciples, wins their complete trust, then tricks them into signing spirit contracts voluntarily making themselves slaves. He teaches them rudimentary cultivation techniques, waits until their looks are at their most flourishing, brands them with the Joyous Union Brand to fix their beauty forever at its most harvestable moment, and then sells them to brothels and pleasure houses, where they serve in bed.

"Though everyone knows he is exploiting a loophole, they all turn a blind eye and tacitly permit this method of selling slaves."

A life-extending pill could only be taken once and extended one's lifespan to a hundred years.

Once cultivators reached Foundation Establishment, they could live at least three hundred years. They had no need at all for such a useless trifle. Most were bought for mortal servants, and they were very cheap—only two low-grade spirit stones apiece. Such enormous profits ensured that cultivators who trafficked slaves never ceased to appear, yet none raised them as well as Xie Que did.

Song Qingshi was startled to find in the original owner's memories that the original owner had met Xie Que.

That spring, the original owner had shut himself away to research a new pill formula when Xie Que came seeking treatment, carrying an unconscious child in his arms. The child was a mortal, about eleven or twelve years old, with a rare pure-yang constitution and a wood spiritual root. He had even reached the third level of Qi Refining. His talent was extraordinary, surpassing even that of certain good-for-nothing descendants of immortal sects and aristocratic families. Xie Que said the child was a disciple he had taken in more than three years earlier, and that the boy had been bitten by a ghost-faced snake while training in the mountains. Ghost-faced snake venom was not especially virulent, but it caused multicolored blotches to appear on the victim's face, making it resemble a ghost's visage.

The original owner ordinarily did not treat mortals, but Xie Que begged through tears, saying this was his most important disciple and that he was willing to pay a high price to save him. The original owner had been in a good mood at the time, and Xie Que's crying was grating on his nerves. Since the ghost-faced snake venom was easy to cure, he finally relented, ordered a medicine servant to give him two antidote pills, and sternly forbade him from crying again.

Xie Que remained at his disciple's bedside, caring for him day and night for three days. When the disciple awoke from his coma, his body was already largely unharmed, though the ghostly marks on his face needed time to fade. Still worried that poison remained in his system, Xie Que stubbornly lingered in Medicine King Valley for half a month, refusing to leave until his disciple's face had recovered.

During that time, the peach blossoms in the medicinal garden were in full bloom, like a skyful of red brocade. Whenever the original owner encountered a difficulty in pill refinement, he would sit somewhere high and contemplate the peach blossoms. Each time, he would see a small figure practicing swordsmanship beneath them—morning, noon, and night—as though he had become part of the scenery, growing alongside the peach blossoms.

For mortals to cultivate immortality was like a fish leaping through the Dragon Gate: fraught with countless perils, with very few who succeeded.

Xie Que was always at the child's side, his face full of worry—either afraid the sword would fly from his hand or that he would exhaust himself. The two even argued over it several times. On a whim, the original owner sent out his divine sense and heard the child say to Xie Que, "Master, a mortal's natural endowments may not compare to an immortal's, but my Imperial Father once taught me that Heaven rewards diligence, and diligence can make up for clumsiness. So I must work twice as hard and never waste my time."

"You make a good point," Xie Que said with a pained expression, trying to persuade him. "But you have not fully recovered from your injury, and I fear you will harm your body. Besides... why must you practice the sword? The disciples of my Yanshan Sect all enter the Dao through music. Wouldn't it be better for you to learn the xiao, the qin, or something of the sort?"

"It is very good that Master teaches me to enter the Dao through music." The child scratched his head shyly. "But I like the sword. I want to become someone like Sword Venerable Moyuan. Don't worry, Master. I have learned all the pieces you taught me. I practice better than my senior brothers and sisters, so I absolutely have not neglected my cultivation."

Having no way to refuse, Xie Que could only say, "Later, I will find you a pair of ice-silk gloves. You must wear them whenever you practice the sword, and at night you must soak your hands in medicinal liquid to keep them soft. You must never develop calluses, lest they interfere with your future cultivation."

The child cheered and bounced with excitement. "Master, you are so good to me."

"Do not get hurt." Xie Que lightly tapped his forehead and complained, "You little rascal, you frightened your master half to death. From now on, stay in the sect and cultivate obediently. You are not allowed to play on the back mountain, and you are not allowed to practice day and night like this either, lest you ruin your eyes from overwork."

The child agreed to each condition.

Xie Que bent down and gently rubbed his head. With a sigh, he said, "You do not know how much your master values you..."

"I know." The child raised his head and said earnestly, "I know the Immortal Realm looks down on mortals cultivating immortality, and by extension on Master, who accepts only mortals as disciples. I do not want to bring shame on Master, so I will definitely cultivate a Golden Core and prove to everyone that Master's judgment was not wrong!"

Xie Que silently watched his face, the meaning in his eyes impossible to discern.

The child tugged at Xie Que's sleeve, looked away, and said bashfully, "Wuhuan likes Master best!"

Xie Que extended a fingertip and stroked the child's face, which was covered in multicolored marks, examining it carefully. At last, reluctant to move on, he paused beneath the child's left eye at the tiny red teardrop mole. That mole was dazzlingly beautiful. He was silent for a long time before showing an exceedingly benevolent smile. "Master likes you best too."

...