“Oh, I like him already,” the Matriarch said over Nanya’s shoulder, her voice playful.

“Mother!” Nanya blushed. “This fool is asking us to do bad things for him!”

“Indeed. 'Like' might be a strong word. Perhaps I should say I do not dislike his methods?”

“And lead us astray!”

“You were already led astray when you chose to compromise your cardinal physique for this boy.”

“Was it not you who encouraged me?”

“… I had prepared a scroll for you, detailing the myriads of positives and negatives of giving your chastity–which is more valuable to male cultivators than actual immortal treasures– to a man of such inferior a yang, oh naive daughter of mine.”

“It was quite encouraging!” Nanya preened.

“It, was, not! The negative aspects occupied more than nine-tenths of the paper, with tales of past yin physique holders who foolishly mated with men of low yang, the tragedies they suffered, their road to heaven barred forever! The only notable positive being—”

“A loyal boyfriend!”

“… a besotted boy-toy, so captivated by your heavenly yin that he cannot think straight.”

“Very encouraging.”

“It was my oversight. I should have known you would twist my words— no, it matters not now. This boy, I might have misjudged his talents. His dao aspect is more peculiar than I had assumed. I cannot even find any mention of it in our archives.”

“So, may we please do bad things for him?” Nanya asked, her blush deepening. In the material plane, she was a fearsome vixen, but in the astral passage staged upon the firmament, she was a shy young maiden gossiping about love.

The Matriarch merely gestured at her daughter’s ordinal soul dismissively. “You cannot even speak a single secret word about the Revival Crown, even if you wish to, due to the heavenly vow. And while the elders forbid the Su Fox Clan members from openly revealing our immortality, it's naive to think that the apex clans and sects of the mortal plane aren't already well-informed. Do as you wish.”

“May we seek your approval of him?” Nanya said, pushing a boundary while her mother was in a good mood.

“Absolutely not. Not disliking his wit and endorsing him are two different matters. Daughter, he must pass the Gauntlet of Foxfire if he ever hopes to bear the Su Name.”

“We doubt he'd want our name. He claims he's not patriarchal, but he does have a hint of masculine pride.” Nanya said, puffing her chest up in pride.

“Are you fine with that? Don’t tell me, you would discard the Su name for Ziyou?”

“Such insolence. Even if you are my mother, we cannot let that pass. Perhaps our children will be of Ziyou, but for you to even consider that we, such graceful a princess, would ever stoop so low to–”

“Children?”

“Oh, dear mother. Are the astral winds not so refreshingly cold today?”

“Why are you this way, daughter? I must warn you—”

“You cannot warn me!”

“I implore you, do not bear children out of wedlock.”

“H-How dare you!” Nanya recoiled, scandalised, but the Matriarch had already vanished, her good mood fouled.

Nanya felt the urge to chase her through the astral passage to rectify such grave misconceptions. Children? With him? How could that be? Is it not obvious that we misspoke? We mean, if Mother would just think about it logically for a breath, she would realize that these are by no means our hidden desires gushing out. Indeed, it is so, for his weak yang couldn't even breach the first layer of our defences unless we fully opened up! Mother didn’t have to leave in such a hurry.

By leaving, her mother insinuated that Nanya might want to open herself up for fertilization, which she didn't! She had merely been deceived into it by his persuasive tongue. And she definitely wasn’t over-analysing the situation to convince herself otherwise!

Nanya paused.

She was aware that her cardinal body would cause an uproar the moment she neared the Revival Sword Tower. Even though she cherished their Yung as much as she did herself, the physique of a Jade Empress was sacred, not to be tainted by any man less than an emperor.

But, whatever. The rice was already simmering. It wouldn't do to turn off the heat now.

Ultimately, strengthening Yung’s willpower to bridge the gap between Imperfect and Unfolding Heaven was more crucial than clan secrets. At least, that's what Nanya kept telling herself.

Deep down, she knew she was a princess first and a girlfriend second. Her mother was right; liking and approving were distinct.

Nanya was certain that if forced to choose between her clan and her lover, she'd choose her clan.

For now.

So, Yung had to become stronger.

No matter the cost!

Nanya said to Ziyou Yung.

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Yung beamed brighter, ever the fool.

Why must his smile be so radiant when his face is so dark? Nanya asked.

The boy grinned even wider, thinking he had ensnared Nanya in his trap.

Nanya rolled her eyes. Her essence qi converged at the crown of her head, stirring the mystical forces within the Revival Crown.

This time, discreetly.

The immortal artefact responded, its unseen aura enveloping Yung and his treacherous band of merry comrades.

Yung's eyes widened in surprise, and he cocked his head, puzzled.

Nanya smiled. Just like that. Delve into our hearts and decipher our secret on your own. We remain silent, and the heavenly vow can't prevent us from wielding our power. If it disapproves, then would the artefact spirit not let it be known?

“We've come to an accord,” Nanya declared to the villagers waiting for her decree. She exhaled a warm breath, rousing Yung from his thoughts.

The villagers stood attentively.

“The contents within these caves are not for your eyes. However, Ziyou Yung vouches for you. The price he pays is steep.”

Yung asked, alarmed. Silky patted his cheek in assurance; such adorable a creature.

“Young Yung, you... This debt, the Free Sparrow Gang ain’t never gonna forget.”

“All of you must swear a heavenly vow of complete secrecy, or face the annihilation of your souls. Only then will we consent to your offering. Is that clear?”

There was unanimous agreement. The village leaders appeared content, and the madlander slum residents remained stoic.

The heavenly vows were recited, led by Nanya's tranquil yet commanding voice. As she sang, the villagers echoed her.

Her Revival Crown hummed with anticipation, seizing the faintest threads of the villagers' souls and consuming them, as was its right. The ectoplasm layer of the soul vanished, leaving only the purest meaning intact.

At the same time, the words escaping the villagers’ mouths transformed into strings of qi, rising upwards before disappearing into the astral winds. From above, shackles made of esoteric dao principles descended, principles so arcane that even Nanya struggled to identify them all.

These shackles anchored themselves into the villagers’ souls, binding a specific part in an unbreakable cage, impervious even to those in the Harmonious Heaven realm.

This bound segment was precisely what the Revival Crown had consumed. The chains safeguarded the meaning of the villagers' uttered words, ensuring no clever wordplay or grammatical errors could deceive the heavenly vow.

Now, much like Nanya's inability to discuss the deepest secrets of the Revival Crown with anyone without its explicit approval, these villagers were rendered incapable of revealing any Su Fox Clan secrets they might uncover.

A heavenly vow overseen by the Revival Crown carried unique consequences.

There was a price to pay, not only to the heavens but to the fox clan itself!

As the process concluded, only the most spiritually attuned among them sensed the loss of something invaluable: a fragment of their freedom. Another path towards achieving the dao had been sealed. For a renyao soul, even one closed gate was one too many.

Yet, they had made their choice. And for that, Nanya might, if sufficiently persuaded by her beloved, extend a protective hand.

“We proceed. Come,” she instructed, lifting Yung by his collar and venturing into the shadowy divide.

The naive boy continued to question, but Nanya decided to let him stew in his anxiety a bit longer.

She could be mean like that.

***

Transitioning into the cave felt like passing through a razor-sharp veil of water, trying to cut his soul out of his body.

By the time Yung could react, the alien discomfort had vanished, and they were inside the cave.

Su Nanya unceremoniously dropped Yung, who was still grappling with the surreal sensation.

One moment, he felt bisected by the cave's entrance, and the next, he was whole again, his butt landing on mossy stone.

He had tried to keep his eyes open and had glimpsed something. Something so utterly familiar, like a mother’s lullaby, grandma’s signature curry, and his favourite line from his favourite book.

Moira?

No, the memory faded.

Yung rose, dusting off his trousers, only to find his buttside damp.

“Are you kidding me?” Yung exclaimed, shooting a glare at Nyanya, who returned it with equal intensity.

The cave's darkness was punctuated by the torches the other cultivators had ignited. The walls, adorned with peculiar fungi and moss, emitted a unique aroma — a blend of sweetness and a meaty undertone. As the scent wafted to Yung, his stomach growled in response.

“… we did warn you about skipping meals,” Nanya said.

“Fasting sharpens the mind,” Yung said.

“Who introduced you to Buddhist sutras?”

Yung chose to ignore her. She was speaking aloud rather than using the communicator, and the other cultivators could hear her. He pondered asking why but decided against it.

The vixen peered deeper into the cave and sneered, “Villagers, do make yourselves useful.”

Typically, her form would radiate with golden luminescence reflected by the gaudy accessories and chains dangling from her body, but now, that ethereal glow seemed to have condensed, forming a protective layer around her, offering little illumination.

Yung turned to Ziyou Maque.

“Here's hoping the cultists are still alive,” the gang leader remarked with a grin, his gold teeth reflecting the torchlight. He obeyed Su Nanya's command, navigating the fractured terrain at the lead with a torch in one hand and a spear in the other.

“And may our blades find their necks,” Ziyou Ling added, also carrying a spear, her other palm brushing the fungi-covered cave walls.

Or rather, the walls were covered in thick layers of what looked to be white hyphae coming out from the bases of the tiny number of fruiting bodies. Like spiderwebs trapping the moss.

“Aye!” The gang responded in hushed tones. In fact, Nanya and Yung were whispering, too. Even Silky’s “kyuus” were more squeaky than usual.

Yung pondered the reason for their whispers. Perhaps the eerie atmosphere demanded it?

When a band of armed avengers cast haunting shadows on a moss-covered cave, with mysterious winds echoing from its depths, the ambience certainly called for hushed tones.

Yung respected that, though he wished they'd use the communicator to maintain the element of surprise. He knew that the Free Sparrow Gang and Youjin Clan were probably strategising furiously using their own interconnected communicator tokens. The only reason they were even bothering to hush outside too was because Nanya did it first.

“We dislike not hearing your voice. Will you not hurry up and invent the gadget to pass the full richness of our seductive voice?”

“Nyanya, what if the enemy hears us.” Yung had to ask. “Talking aloud seems like a bad idea.”

“To eavesdrop on a princess is to invite death. Let them.”

Yung was speechless. But he couldn’t force Nanya. She was definitely plotting something and she’d already conceded so much to him today. He gave up and decided to let Nanya call the shots.

“I am grateful for your advocacy, Ziyou Yung,” Youjin Chun expressed with a slight bow as she moved past them with the Youjin Clan cultivators. “After all, we share the same blood.”

Yung exchanged nods with Youjin Gangkai.

The latter grunted in response, “Did you wet yourself?”

Yung was momentarily lost for words. Hadn't the man seen Nyanya drop him on the damp floor?

“I jest,” Gangkai added with another grunt, positioning himself protectively behind his heiress.

The last cultivator to take her place was Youjin Linbi. She cast a respectful glance at Su Nanya, then a disdainful one at Yung's damp trousers, remarking, “Men.”

“Might we introduce the young lady to feminism, dear servant?” Nanya sounded happy.

Yung shrugged, using heart qi to heat up his pants. The fungi layer on the walls seemed almost to shrink away as the young boy responded with a helpless, “You know what? Go ahead.”