Chapter Twenty-Seven: Hello, Fresh Meat

After listening to Feng Ke’er’s plan, a certain bird glanced at the slope beneath them, flapped its wings with a sly, insincere smile, and asked, “Are you sure?”

The girl snorted, turned her head away, and ignored him—after all, she used to be someone with a home. No matter how dilapidated the courtyard was, it was still a courtyard. What’s more, it even had a secret chamber and a back garden. It was all this wretched bird’s fault! Not only had she been turned into a homeless vagabond, now she was like a rat in the street, with everyone out to get her.

Feng Jiu, too, had endured her for a long time. Seeing her attitude, his temper flared; he swallowed the reminder that had almost slipped from his beak, turned away, and pointed his tail at her, sneering inwardly: Hmph, you stubborn brat. If you insist on doing things your way, don’t blame me for not saving you. I swear, I won’t—absolutely won’t!

Feng Ke’er sat for a while, and when she felt the “stream of energy” inside her had mostly recovered, she grabbed her homemade wooden club and headed down the mountain to hunt. She’d been hungry to begin with, and after her hasty escape up the mountain, she was even hungrier. If she didn’t get something to eat soon, she’d probably faint from low blood sugar.

Feng Jiu became anxious, forgetting the “cold war” and flapping his wings as he called out, “Hey, where are you going?” He was in such a hurry to find someone that he hadn’t even waited to transform before breaking out of his shell and descending to the mortal realm. So, it wasn’t that he wanted to be humble, but the circumstances forced him—he had no choice.

“Hunting. Looking for food.” Feng Ke’er stopped, turned back, and eyed the plump form of the bird from head to toe, grinning wickedly. “Unless you’d care to make a small sacrifice—contribute a wing or a leg?”

“You—!” Feng Jiu protectively covered his chest with his wings, glaring at her in outrage. He really couldn’t communicate with this girl at all—she left him speechless!

But then the girl dropped her grin, rolled her eyes at him with utter disdain, and said, “Just kidding. Look at you, Fat Bird, all that blubber. Honestly, if you were willing to sacrifice yourself, I’d be worried about getting high blood pressure, cholesterol, and blood sugar.”

Young beasts of a low grade were usually weak—the cultivation of demonic beasts was divided into ten stages. The first stage was like the Qi Refining period, the second akin to the Foundation Establishment period, and so on. Beasts born below the third stage were simply demon beasts; those at the third or fourth stage were spirit beasts; and those at fifth stage or above, able to transform upon birth, were divine beasts. She had no idea what this divine beast from the heavens had gone through—born prematurely, underdeveloped, and with only a cultivation at the peak of the second stage. But whether out of resignation or excessive sympathy, since this little fellow had formed a contract with her, he was now her guardian beast.

Worst case, she’d just treat him as a pet!

A bald, plump bird with a childish voice—ugly, yes, but at least he was a divine beast. That had to be better than a mynah or parrot, right? And “Fat Bird”—now that was a fitting name. The name “Fire Phoenix” was too flashy, totally unsuited to her low-key style. So from now on, she’d call him Fat Bird!

Feng Jiu hadn’t even realized he’d just acquired such a tragic pet name. What irked him most now was this “three highs”—what on earth did that mean?

He could guess with his toes that nothing good ever came out of that girl’s mouth. Probably some kind of chicken plague.

Feng Jiu had lived for over a hundred thousand years, the youngest prince of the phoenix clan, a superstar adored by all ages in the divine realm—and now, he was being despised by a mortal ant as “Fat Bird”! A bird that would give you the “three highs” if you ate it!

He was so aggrieved and furious he nearly passed out, standing there dumbstruck.

Feng Ke’er, seeing his pitiful look, snapped her fingers in satisfaction, a wicked smile curling on her lips. “Good, that’s it. Fat Bird, be a good boy and wait here—don’t run around, or you’ll be snatched up by the Wild Chicken King. I’ll be back soon.” With that, she slung the wooden club over her shoulder and left, laughing heartily.

Hahaha, that was satisfying, truly satisfying! She might not know how to tame a hawk, but she certainly knew how to humble this arrogant Fat Bird.

Feng Jiu snapped out of his daze, flapped his wings, and leapt three feet into the air, his fat trembling all over as he spat a fireball at the girl’s back. Damn it—this was intolerable!

Hearing the rush of wind behind her, the girl thought it was a pebble or something and carelessly caught it behind her back.

She felt a bit of heat in her palm, and looking down, she saw a golden fireball. But the fire was feeble—it flickered twice and died out, vanishing in a wisp of green smoke.

Damn! She suppressed her irritation, turned around with an even brighter smile, and said, “Good Fat Bird, good children don’t play with fire. Be good, and I’ll roast some chicken for you when I get back!” Oh, how he must loathe that name, “Fat Bird.” How he must hate being treated like a little kid! Hmph, and yet he dared to attack her from behind? Well, she’d call him “Fat Bird” all the more! Dead Fat Bird! Stinky Fat Bird! And she certainly wouldn’t stoop to bickering with a little brat!

That wretched girl’s skin was thicker than city walls! Feng Jiu was at his wit’s end. He could only glare at her, gasping in anger, his blubber trembling as if he were shivering uncontrollably. At this point, he bitterly regretted everything: of all the contracts he could have formed, why did it have to be with this wretched girl? Feng Lord was right—the Feng family produced nothing but trouble!

Yet Feng Ke’er thoroughly enjoyed his pitiful appearance. Instantly refreshed, she slung her club over her shoulder and, with two bounding leaps, was already more than thirty yards away.

On her way up, she’d spotted a wild chicken’s nest about five miles from here, hidden among the bushes. Inside, a mottled wild hen was brooding—a low-grade specimen. She’d set her sights on it then.

Arriving at her destination, she used her stick to part the brush and crept forward silently.

The nest was less than ten yards away. The mottled wild hen was still there, crouched in the grass, head held high, alertly scanning her surroundings. At the same time, she dutifully spread her wings to protect the nest, covering every gap.

A good mother! But sentiment aside, Feng Ke’er wasn’t about to spare them. That’s just the cruelty of the food chain—there’s no room for mercy.

Murmuring “Amitabha,” she aimed for a wing and hurled her club without hesitation.

Whoosh—

The stick spun through the air, striking and breaking the wild hen’s wing.

Its shriek was abruptly cut off. In this life, it wouldn’t have the chance to make another sound. For Feng Ke’er had already dashed over on a gust of wind—one swift motion, and it was done.

With a flash of blood, the wild hen convulsed twice, then its proud head drooped lifelessly.

A surge of warmth entered Feng Ke’er’s belly, like a cup of hot tea, sending a pleasant heat through her organs and sweeping away all fatigue. She closed her eyes and took a deep, satisfied breath.

The rest was easy. She deftly split open the hen’s skull, fished out the demon crystal, then picked up the bird—sure enough, there was a nestful of eggs underneath.

She counted—fourteen in all. That was plenty.

Feng Ke’er wasn’t greedy. Sticking the club through her belt, she scooped up the nest in one arm and carried the dead hen in the other, ready to head home.

Suddenly, a fierce wind surged behind her, bringing scorching heat.

She reacted instantly, dodging aside.

Bang—a fireball the size of an egg crashed into the bushes beside her, striking a sharp stone and scattering sparks everywhere.

A monster! Feng Ke’er looked back in alarm.

She saw a long-plumed wild rooster flapping its wings atop a branch, glaring fiercely as it spat another fireball from its beak!

Oh my, these creatures really could breathe fire!

No sooner thought than done—the second fireball came shrieking toward her face.

In a panic, Feng Ke’er chucked the nest, hen, and eggs all back at once and dove behind a large rock.

The wild rooster flapped its wings, dodging the flying hen and nest. The poor clutch of fourteen eggs scattered like petals in the rain, cracking open all around it.

“Kaa—cluck cluck!” The wild rooster’s eyes went bloodshot as its beak snapped furiously.

“Bang, bang, bang!” More furious fireballs hurtled through the air, landing in front of Feng Ke’er’s hiding place and bursting into flame.

Sparks and dust flew into the surrounding brush. Black smoke rose as the dry bushes caught fire. A mountain breeze fanned the flames, and in no time, the thicket was crackling and blazing.

Unfortunately, Feng Ke’er was downwind.

It seemed this wild rooster was cleverer than its kin. Knowing its limitations, it didn’t try to fight her directly, but set fire to the undergrowth around her, cutting off her escape.

If she didn’t fight back soon, she’d either be burned alive or choked by the thick black smoke.

Coughing and tearing up, she covered her nose and mouth with her sleeve, drew a dagger from her calf, and peeked out from behind the rock. Taking aim half an inch below the rooster’s beak, she threw with all her might.

But the rooster didn’t dodge—it simply batted the dagger away with a wing!

The blade flashed through the air and vanished—who knew where it landed.

“Kawkawkaw!” The rooster flapped triumphantly, then spat three fireballs in quick succession like meteor shots, all aimed at her head. Unfortunately, they still weren’t strong enough—each arced through the air, landing only half an inch closer than before and missing her yet again.

Feng Ke’er was delighted: these flashy fireballs, thrown from a distance and with the rooster’s limited strength, couldn’t really harm her. Wonderful!

Give you an inch and you want a mile? No way! Emboldened, she charged out, shouted “Iceball Technique!” and flung a baseball-sized chunk of ice at the rooster from her fingertips. Hmph—she wasn’t some Hello Kitty. Back at the academy, she’d been the acknowledged ace pitcher on the women’s softball team—she never missed her mark!

Caught off guard, the rooster flapped in a panic, dodging the first projectile—only for Feng Ke’er’s second iceball to follow immediately. The first was a feint, the second a real attack. After much practice, her Iceball Technique had grown more proficient; with her current energy, she could cast five baseball-sized iceballs in a row.

The spinning iceball struck hard.

“Cluck—!” With a scream, the rooster was sent flying.

Oh yes—beautiful shot!

Energized, she dropped her club, drew another dagger, gathered her strength, leapt up, and shouted, “Speed Technique!”

In a flash, she was in front of the wild rooster. Before it could regain its footing, her blade flashed down.

Blood spurted, another wave of warmth flooded into her belly.

“Exhilarating!”

This was a sunny slope, with little soil and many rocks—dry terrain. Fanned by the mountain wind, the whole thicket was ablaze.

The fire couldn’t be stopped—but there was no need to. Vegetation was sparse, and the nearest patch of brush was at least twenty meters away, separated by sand and stones—a natural firebreak.

Feng Ke’er fished the charred remains of the wild hen from the ashes, wrapped both birds in green cloth, tied them to one end of her club, slung it over her shoulder, and left the scene.

It was a pity about the eggs, but overall, her haul was good. In high spirits, she began waving her arm and called out from a distance, “Hello, Fat Bird, I’m back! We’ve got roast chicken to eat and chicken soup to drink!”

Ahem! Feng Jiu’s mood had just barely improved; he was squatting by the rock wall drawing circles in the dust. Hearing this, he choked in exasperation.

Special thanks to Lian Shang Yao Jing for the review ticket.

Tongtian Codex, Chapter 27—Hello, Fat Bird, completed!