Smoke and Fire [GL] - Chapter 27

The two walked out from the corridor beneath the Buddhist Hall, with a fine drizzle drifting down from the sky.

Si Yin conjured a paper umbrella from behind her back, lifted her head rather proudly, cocked an eyebrow, her expression clearly asking: How is it? Aren’t you going to praise me?

Luo Yao let out a soft laugh, saying: “This is a mortal item, isn’t it? The Rain Master is probably just washing the gold dust, and the rain will avoid us by itself.”

“That’s where you don’t understand,” Si Yin shook a finger and sighed, “My dear, you are the Head of all Gods now! Even mortal emperors carry a palace umbrella on cloudy days—how imposing! We can’t lose face!”

“Alright, alright.”

Luo Yao allowed her to hold the umbrella over her head, thinking that Tan Tan’s first words would definitely be, “What on earth is this thing?”

On the other side, Veda had been waiting for a while, holding Tan Tan. Seeing Luo Yao finally emerge, he quickly walked over, smiling gently: “You’re finally out. Why the delay?”

“Your Highness.” Tan Tan first acknowledged the spell that had been cast on her, then spoke with the contemptuous tone Luo Yao had imagined: “Ew, what is this broken thing?”

She even added an adjective.

“You, you, you—” Si Yin was so angry her hair was nearly standing up. She pointed at Veda and then at the little white flower Tan Tan. “I won’t argue with a flower. Veda, you control her!”

Veda smiled and nodded, then gently said to the little flower in his arms: “Your Highness, this is called an umbrella, used by mortals to shelter from the rain…”

Looking from afar at the two figures, Luo Yao lowered her eyes and smiled faintly.

Si Yin, who was about to say something to her, inadvertently saw her smile and was slightly stunned.

“What is it?” Luo Yao noticed her momentary look of distraction and asked with puzzlement.

“Oh, I…” Si Yin tried hard to divert her gaze, resting it on the hairpin in Luo Yao’s dark hair. Her eyes lit up, as if she had suddenly found an outlet for her irritation. “…I meant to say, is this the hairpin the Venerable gave you? It’s beautiful.”

Luo Yao’s expression showed a subtle shift. She raised her right hand and took the hairpin down, her face very calm: “Is it? But I will only use it for this one conferral; there will be no second time.”

“Why?” Si Yin asked, confused.

“Because this was left behind by someone I feel deeply guilty towards,” Luo Yao put the hairpin into her sleeve, saying softly with lowered eyes, “The more beautiful it is, the more guilty I feel.”

Si Yin was a little confused, but a crowd of people suddenly surged toward them, leaving her no time to think further.

“Supreme Deity Qingluan! Congratulations, congratulations!”

“Do you have time to come to Guangyue Palace for a visit?”

“Hey, Your Highness—Your Highness, I just ascended. My name is…”

These people, all smiling perfectly, were men and women, old and young, but all were Immortals.

Immortals (Xian) are mortals who have ascended. They have very long lifespans, but they still have an end.

Unlike the free-spirited gods, Immortals come from the Mortal Realm and are bound by it. They receive the worship of mortals and must help the human race eliminate calamities and overcome difficulties.

In the Celestial Realm’s localist ideology, the status of Immortals is far inferior to that of Gods. This is precisely why they were so eager and flattering.

Si Yin rolled her eyes in exasperation, switched the umbrella handle to her left hand, gripped her heavy sword in her right, and plunged it into the ground, instantly silencing the crowd into submission.

“Those who speak flattery, those who seek favor, and those who delusionally wish for the Queen to remember you—all of you, get lost right now.”

Her sharp gaze swept over the crowd, her words concise and powerful.

Luo Yao stood silently behind the general in her Xuan-colored armor, the sleeves of her large red court robe trailing on the ground—an undeniable gesture of silent approval.

The crowd retreated resentfully. Only one woman in plain white robes stood still.

Luo Yao looked up and smiled at her, nodding slightly: “Immortal Leader Bixia, long time no see.”

“Your Highness,” the woman bowed to her, her manner neither humble nor arrogant. “The conferral of Your Highness today was truly breathtakingly beautiful. I believe many people must be captivated by your grace.”

Luo Yao said calmly: “Is the Immortal Leader referring to anything specific?”

“You misunderstand. There is no specific reference. It’s just that there has long been the romantic tale of ‘Qingluan and Fire Phoenix’ in the Celestial Realm. I observe that His Highness Fire Phoenix seems to have forgotten to suppress this talk, and I came specifically to remind Your Highness about it.”

She spoke very circumspectly, but Luo Yao immediately understood and smiled: “Thank you for the reminder, Immortal Leader.”

“You’re welcome. Goodbye.”

Si Yin looked at the plain white back and suddenly frowned unhappily, her expression displeased: “That Fire Phoenix guy, doesn’t he look in the mirror to see if he’s worthy? What ‘Qingluan and Fire Phoenix’… he probably concocted it himself.”

“Hmm, I think so too, but it no longer matters who started this saying,” Luo Yao calmly pulled her closer, politely nodding to the onlookers, her voice very soft. “I suspect the Venerable might have a hand in this… After all, if the Head of all Gods and the Phoenix Nine Sons were to intermarry, creating a system of mutual checks and balances, the Celestial Realm would be much more stable.”

“Really?” Si Yin stumbled, dragged by Luo Yao, and asked in astonishment, “And since you know this, you don’t object?”

Luo Yao suddenly laughed, as if she found the question very amusing. She asked back faintly: “Since my birth, to leading all the gods, to being conferred as a Supreme Deity, which matter was not for a political purpose?”

“So, hypothesizing about something that will never happen is meaningless,” she said, patting Si Yin’s shoulder and smilingly changing the subject. “Ah, enough about that. Accompany me for a stroll on the Glazed Terrace.”

…

The Glazed Terrace.

The Glazed Terrace, originally a heavily garrisoned boundary between the Gods and Demons, was now empty and desolate. Looking out, only a few scattered figures remained on the vast cloud-high platform.

“I’ll give you one last chance.”

Of the four people present, three were standing and one was kneeling. Among the three standing, an arrogant, unrestrained youth stood in the front, imperiously pointing his whip at the person on the ground: “Will you kneel or not?”

The person he was questioning was a girl of thirteen or fourteen. Although surrounded and pressured by three men much older than her, there was no sign of weakness or retreat in her eyes.

Hearing this, she said coldly: “Unless you kill me.”

“Ha,” a younger man behind the youth chuckled lightly. “How interesting. Fourth Sister, do you really think we wouldn’t dare kill you?”

The girl’s fingertips clenched slightly as she stared coldly at him.

The youth, however, paused slightly. He turned his head as if considering something, and whispered to the younger man: “Third Brother, she is one of the Phoenix Nine Sons after all. If you kill her, that’s deicide…”

The younger man merely glanced at him faintly: “God? What is a god?”

“Only a god of pure bloodline is fit to be called a god,” he said slowly, stepping past the youth, his gaze pitying as he looked down at the person on the ground. “A half-god, half-demon like you, at most, is a mongrel of two realms.”

“—Or are you taking yourself seriously just because people call you Her Highness Snow Phoenix every day?”

This insult of “mongrel” was utterly humiliating. The girl gritted her teeth and struggled to stand up: “Fire Phoenix, may you die a terrible death…”

—The Phoenix Nine Sons each inherited a part of the Phoenix’s divine power. The others were pure-blooded gods, but only the Snow Phoenix was born half-fallen.

Most people guessed that the part she inherited represented the darkest and most unspeakable aspects of the Phoenix’s inner self, bringing a curse from birth.

Furthermore, as the Snow Phoenix gradually grew up, the demonic energy within her became increasingly difficult to suppress. Since the gods constantly boasted of their superiority to the demon race, she was considered a low-born, inferior deity in the Celestial Realm.

Seeing her rise, the youth furiously pushed her down again, cursing: “Damn you! You were branded with the Golden-Winged Great Peng seal, and you can still stand up… I see you won’t shed tears until you see the coffin!”

With that, he lifted the golden whip in his hand and lashed it down onto the girl’s back.

“Kneel before your brother! Or I’ll kick you off the Glazed Terrace, and you can see who will come to save you!”

A flash of golden light erupted, leaving a bloody wound on her back.

She bit her lip, refusing to make a sound.

She knew her divine power was inferior to that of the Golden-Winged Great Peng. Resistance would only result in more blows and kicks.

Above the heavens, before the Glazed Terrace.

Unseen, and forever unnoticed.

The Snow Phoenix knelt, gently gasping for breath. The sneering laughter of the men clearly reached her ears.

A snow-colored petal landed in her dripping bl00d.

She saw the edge of the Glazed Terrace faintly visible behind layers of golden mist, like a silent invitation.

Long, long ago, someone had granted her a new life when she was on the verge of death.

Therefore, ever since that day, no matter what she encountered, she never considered death.

Because her life was given to her by that person.

—However, since they all want her dead, why not take one of them down with her?

No one saw how she stood up.

Only the girl’s robes fluttered in the wind. She flashed behind the Fire Phoenix like a fierce, cold gust, and before them was the bottomless boundary between gods and demons.

There should have been gasps of shock at this moment. The Great Peng was just a child. He had learned to bully the weak from his older brothers, but he still feared the true Demon Realm.

No one had time to strike, but she also didn’t have time to actually push the Fire Phoenix down, because she crashed into a field of dark blue air.

The dark blue was eerily still, reminding her of a clear, yet bottomless pool.

It was a supreme power, incomparable, rippling three or four times across the Glazed Terrace like water waves. Only after it had slammed the perpetrators down onto the ground by its sheer pressure did it gradually retreat into its owner’s sleeve.

She looked up in a trance.

In the rain curtain, the person who arrived was silhouetted against the light. She could only see the majestic court robe of deep red, trailing to the floor, adorned with countless pieces of glass and rare rhinestones, making a light sound as it approached.

She heard the person speak with a faint smile:

“You had better think carefully about how to explain yourselves.”

This was the first time Shang Mian had seen Luo Yao take action.

Although she didn’t see her face then, ever since that day, that crimson color had been seared into her soul, becoming something eternal—

—Even though you never lacked devout believers.

But my soul will tremble and exist for you eternally.

This section reveals the background of Shang Mian (the Demon Venerable), who was originally the Snow Phoenix (half-god, half-demon), and the immense bullying she suffered from the Phoenix Nine Sons, particularly the Fire Phoenix and the Golden-Winged Great Peng. It also provides a flashback to the moment Luo Yao intervened, which solidified Shang Mian’s devotio