That bird was indeed Yao Lin. Before this, however, Nanxu hadn’t noticed anything unusual. Seeing him suddenly now, he looked much more haggard than before.
Yao Lin braved the wind and snow to enter the mountain. When he looked at Nanxu, his eyes were full of tears, as if he had just been wronged.
Nanxu couldn’t help but ask with concern, “What happened to you?”
Yao Lin sighed. “My clan drove me out of the South Sea. A few days ago, I returned to the mountain where the bird demons live, but I was driven out again. Now, I have nowhere else to go, so I came to seek refuge with you.”
Nanxu didn’t think Yao Lin was pitiful at all. Instead, he blurted out, “What evil thing did you do this time?”
The first demon he met when he first arrived in this world was from the bird tribe. At that time, there wasn’t a great demon like Tingchuan yet to guard the inn. Following the system’s instructions, he had casually saved a golden eagle cub. After that, the bird demons treated him with great courtesy. They even gathered feathers for him so he could make his first soft quilt.
Although some time had passed since then, Nanxu still had a good impression of them. So, when Yao Lin began to play the victim, he didn’t suspect the bird demons at all.
Yao Lin: “…”
The man and demon stared at each other in the snow for a long while before Yao Lin nearly burst into tears.
When Nanxu saw Zhixing finish clearing the snow from the herb garden, he called out to Yao Lin, “Come inside first!”
As they walked into the courtyard, Nanxu suddenly remembered something and turned to ask, “Did you bring money for lodging?”
Yao Lin’s fragile heart took several hits in a row. Clutching his chest, he said, “We’ve known each other for so long—isn’t that a bit heartless to ask?”
Nanxu was unmoved. “I’m running a business here. Why are you talking to me about feelings?”
Still, Yao Lin was brought inside. Tingchuan, who rarely went out these days, sat by the window playing with a Go board. With his sharp hearing, he had already heard Yao Lin’s voice, so he wasn’t surprised.
Yao Lin sat by the fireplace, warming himself comfortably. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have gone back. In this freezing weather, flying back and forth really isn’t something a bird should do!”
Zhixing came out carrying hot goat’s milk and handed some to Nanxu and Yao Lin. Nanxu sat down beside Yao Lin and asked, “So, what did you do this time?”
A flicker of guilt crossed Yao Lin’s face. He coughed awkwardly and glanced around the room. Seeing that everyone present was familiar, he continued, “After returning to the South Sea, I shared the local specialties that the owner gave me with them. I told them that I had learned a new craft and cooked a feast for them. The clan was delighted and came to dine.”
“All of them?” Nanxu suddenly had a bad feeling.
Yao Lin nodded sheepishly. “All of them. Every single one of them collapsed.”
Nanxu: “You didn’t hold any funerals, did you?”
Yao Lin’s shoulders slumped slightly as he smiled wryly. “No, no. Demons are pretty resilient.”
Nanxu nodded in agreement. If they weren’t, they wouldn’t have survived his cooking.
“It was my mistake,” Yao Lin continued. “I felt guilty, so I took the fish sauce I made and went door to door to apologize.”
Nanxu: “…”
He truly felt sorry for the bird tribe of the South Sea now.
“Then they kicked me out again—along with my fish sauce.” Yao Lin looked regretful. “No matter how I explained that it only smelled bad but tasted fine, they didn’t believe me. They even chipped in money for my lodging and told me to come back to Zhuyu Mountain to continue studying. That should last me half a year.”
Nanxu was speechless. He didn’t know if Yao Lin was genuinely unlucky or if he was deliberately using his awful cooking to swindle people.
“Why did the people at Bird Demon Mountain kick you out again? Did you take them down, too?” Nanxu asked.
Yao Lin rubbed his head. “When I was at the South Sea, I told them the fish sauce was harmless, but they didn’t believe me. So, to prove it, I poured some into the water, and all the fish floated belly-up. I couldn’t let them die for nothing, so I fished them out and brought them to Bird Demon Mountain. But, for some reason, even though it was the middle of winter and I flew quickly, the fish had gone bad by the time I arrived. What a pity.”
Nanxu felt that Yao Lin’s misfortune was deserved. Any clan with a junior like him was destined to lose years off their lifespan.
Then, Nanxu suddenly remembered something and widened his eyes. “The sea fish you brought last time—don’t tell me those were poisoned, too?”
Yao Lin waved his hands quickly. “Of course not! They were freshly caught by my clansmen to help me become your apprentice.”
This only made Nanxu feel worse. Had he known that the fish came from the South Sea Bird Tribe, he never would have let this useless apprentice return and cause them more suffering.
This time, Yao Lin obediently paid half a year’s lodging fee and settled into the mountains. Nanxu gave him a fifty percent discount as usual. The damage to the kitchen and compensation for mental distress would be calculated later.
—
Snow kept falling, and the days in the mountains passed quietly. Perhaps because of the cold, Tingchuan stayed at the inn more often. He had recently become fond of Go, and Nanxu played a few rounds with him every day. The fox’s cunning always stayed one step ahead of humans’. Tingchuan went from barely understanding the game to utterly destroying Nanxu’s confidence by completely crushing him in every match.
That night, after Yao Lin went to his room, Zhixing bent over to examine a frostbitten herb when there was a sudden clatter outside. Something had been knocked over, followed by a string of curses. Nanxu and Tingchuan exchanged a look. Tingchuan paused, but didn’t move to get up.
Seeing this, Nanxu knew the person outside wasn’t dangerous. He tried to stay calm, like Tingchuan, but after a few minutes with no knock at the door, his curiosity got the better of him.
He walked toward the entrance and, as he got closer, he heard some familiar voices. Pausing mid-step, he turned back. “That sounds like You’an, doesn’t it?”
Tingchuan nodded. “Mm.”
Relaxing, Nanxu opened the door, only to come face-to-face with a strange face right in front of him. The face snorted loudly, and Nanxu instinctively took several steps back, almost losing his balance.
“Owner… I was just about to knock. What bad timing.” You’an grinned, though his hand was tightly gripping a tuft of white fur at the back of a beast’s neck.
Tingchuan rose from his seat and walked toward the door.
Nanxu steadied himself and finally looked properly at the animal standing about a meter away. It had a horse’s face with clear but dull eyes, large donkey-like ears, and a pair of curved horns between them, like a goat’s.
“What…is that?” Nanxu racked his brain, but he couldn’t recall such a species from the human world.
You’an glanced at the creature and shook his head. “No idea. I found it in the mountains. I didn’t want to come empty-handed, so I brought it as a gift. Look how sturdy it is. You could probably ride it. The mountain paths here are rough, so having a mount might be useful.”
Nanxu examined it carefully. The body did look somewhat horse-like, and it seemed rideable.
Truth be told, his stamina had improved, and he could walk faster now. But back in early summer, when every mountain path felt endless, he had seriously considered training Guan’er to be a proper mount.
Of course, that insane idea was quickly dismissed. Riding a dog was never a stable option.
Just as Nanxu began to smile with delight, the odd creature suddenly lifted its hoof and kicked You’an hard.
You’an must have expected it because he dodged swiftly and the kick missed. The animal became more agitated, but You’an held on tightly to its fur to keep it from breaking free and hurting Nanxu.
“If not for you, I would have arrived this afternoon,” said You’an, patting its back. “I brought you here to live comfortably, and you tried to attack me the whole way.”
Nanxu watched the two bicker, then activated the system’s identification function to scan the creature.
“Oh—a serow1鬣羚 (liè líng), also called a mountain donkey,” Nanxu murmured, realizing that it really did look like a cross between a sheep and a donkey.
“This is how you give gifts now?” Tingchuan asked from behind Nanxu.
You’an straightened his back instinctively, restraining his grin as he greeted, “Uncle.”
“Mm,” Tingchuan responded lightly. Then he grabbed Nanxu by the back of his collar and pulled him two steps back.
“What’s wrong?” Nanxu asked, confused.
Tingchuan glanced at the serow. “It has a bad temper. Be careful—it might hurt you.”
The serow seemed to understand and snorted again. It stared straight at Nanxu with unfriendly eyes, sensing that he was the weakest in the room and wanting to pick on him.
“A few days of training will fix that,” You’an said. “I was just passing through from the north and thought I’d stay here for a while. I saw it foraging halfway up the mountain. No grass grows in the snow, so it would have starved or been eaten. It’s better to bring it here.”
“Keep it, then. It seems quite intelligent,” Nanxu said.
You’an looked proudly at Tingchuan as if to say, “See? I knew he’d like it.”
Tingchuan’s gaze deepened slightly. With a faint glance, You’an immediately shrank back.
Even after roaming the demon realm for all these years, he was still powerless in front of his uncle. After all, his uncle had raised him, and overcoming that kind of bloodline suppression wasn’t easy.
Zhixing came running over to see the strange beast. Its white mane stood out at the back of its neck, and its curved horns looked sharp and elegant. Aside from its dopey eyes, the serow was quite a majestic creature.
“Not as tall as our horses back home, but if tamed, it would make a fine mount,” Zhixing said.
Nanxu nodded. “I think we still have some fresh vegetables in the kitchen. I’ll see if it’ll eat them.”
He went to the kitchen while Tingchuan’s gaze swept over the serow again. The beast lowered its head and tucked away its temper.
“Tame the gift you brought properly before letting it near Nanxu,” Tingchuan said.
“Oh,” You’an answered gloomily, but not surprisingly.
He remembered the last time he traveled with his uncle. His uncle had moved so fast it defied reason. As a nine-tailed fox demon, You’an had chased his uncle’s tail like a panting dog the whole way.
In front of the owner, he really was just someone picked up from the roadside.
Acargoreng: Hi everyone, For those following “But He’s Beautiful” the chapters have been moved to my Ko-fi page! ☕
I’ll be updating every Monday and Thursday — thank you so much for your support and patience 💕

