Chapter 16: The Pond, Borrowing from the World

"Goo goo~"

Amidst the mountain mist, the great owl flapped desperately, fleeing in panic. Beneath its talons, those stout, razor-sharp claws had been severed at the roots—a tremendous price paid to escape the grasp of battle talons.

"Caw!"

A hoarse, unpleasant cry echoed through the haze. Behind the owl, the mountain mist churned violently as Ji Ming spread his wings and burst forth, the fog brushing against every feather. Calm and composed, he rode the wind beneath his wings, swiftly closing in on the owl.

"I yield," the owl cried sharply, beating its wings harder. "I will leave Hengshan, fly far away, and never appear before you again."

Ji Ming did not respond; he cared not to waste breath on words. Propelled by the wind beneath his wings, he gradually caught up to the owl.

But as their altitude rose, the wind grew fierce, interfering with the flow beneath his wings. Below, he could clearly see the owl’s blood-stained back. His talons, like razors, slowly lifted—nearly able to slash into the owl's feathers and tear them apart.

At that moment, the owl’s head twisted a full 180 degrees, staring straight at him. In those wide eyes, it was as if a moonlit blossom bloomed in an instant, unsettling Ji Ming’s consciousness.

"I... I've been caught..."

Unable to avert his gaze, Ji Ming glanced sideways with his remaining vision and spotted—a pond below.

"The pond!"

In the last second before losing consciousness, Ji Ming folded his wings and, in a downward arc, plunged toward the pond.

A cruel, cold glint flashed in the owl's eyes. In the end, it had managed to overturn the tide with its "Dream Inducement," but it was a pyrrhic victory—now a bird without feet, should it land, it would hardly be able to leap and catch the wind again.

Yet even so, it had to kill this Wusongzi first.

In the sky, two avian silhouettes trailed wisps of cloud, falling in an arc toward the pond. One led, one followed.

With a splash, Ji Ming plunged into the water.

The owl hovered above, convinced this Wusongzi was the most troublesome adversary it had encountered in nearly a century of life as a spirit. It didn’t believe the pond landing was mere luck; the deliberate dive before fainting sent chills down its spine. To maintain such form even after being struck by "Dream Inducement" proved the strength of this flying spirit’s mind.

Within the pond, Ji Ming crashed from above. Though his entry was well-angled, the impact jarred his bones. Physical pain and the shock of cold water stirred his groggy will—at last, he began to awaken.

He opened his eyes, dazed, almost believing he had returned to his first life as a grass carp. After choking on a mouthful of water, he instantly realized his predicament. He did not immediately surface, instead holding his breath and keeping still, lurking below.

A single glance allowed Ji Ming to discern the owl’s thoughts as it circled above: it wanted to confirm if he had drowned.

If not, by the instinct of most birds, falling into water would trigger panic and struggle—and the owl would surely block his escape. In the water, his battle talons lost their threat, and if he couldn’t reach shore, he would simply struggle to exhaustion and die.

It was a flawless plan, except it happened to encounter Ji Ming, who had once lived as a grass carp. Though now a crow, he still felt at ease underwater—not swimming freely, perhaps, but able to remain submerged for some time.

Having lost its claws, fearing a fall into the pond, the owl dared not fly low.

Hidden among dense water plants, a beak stealthily broke the surface, greedily gulping air.

After circling for a long while, the owl’s strength waned, and it assumed Wusongzi had drowned, gradually flying away.

Emerging from the lush water plants, Ji Ming’s crow head fixedly watched the owl’s departing form.

"Caw~"

A harsh crow call made the owl in the sky jolt, nearly plummeting.

"He’s not dead!"

Utterly panicked, the owl dared not even glance at the source of the cry, beating its wings to flee faster.

Behind it, a wet, dark shadow rose, two gleaming iron talons lifting slowly in the morning light, opening slightly.

"Caw~"

A cry from mere inches away made the owl wail in terror.

In the next instant, it felt chills violently invade its fevered blood and flesh. Blood, shattered organs, and feathers scattered across the sky in the dawn’s dreamy light.

Ji Ming clutched the broken owl corpse, landed on a branch, spat out the precious eye and pressed it into the body, letting it absorb the spiritual essence from the flesh.

With both monsters gone, the crisis finally passed. The gentle mountain breeze dried his wet feathers. Ji Ming swallowed the precious eye, now drained of essence, and gazed at the pond.

Though not the same pond from his first life, it reminded him of something important. In his grass carp days, after two years, words appeared within the precious eye. This meant some factor influenced it—likely a spiritual essence unnoticed by him.

Now the question was—how could he find that pond?

Looking out, the wilds stretched in waves of forest, stones splashing in streams, waterfalls hanging from ravines—a scene of untamed nature. Even Hengshan alone was too vast to explore; how could he search for a pond whose location was unknown?

"If only there were Earth or Mountain Gods in this world!" Ji Ming thought, and suddenly recalled, "Wait—Earth and Mountain Gods."

This world was so mysterious; as an outsider, how could he know such spirits did not exist here?

He needed to consult a knowledgeable elder—and the best candidate was the president of the Hengshan Fox Society, Old Master Hu.

...

Outside the Fox Society, Mouse Four dragged the corpse of the bat spirit, waiting beneath a large apricot tree. There stood a youth in red, riding a small horse, whip in hand, leading a troop of fox soldiers—quite the impressive sight.

When Ji Ming landed on the treetop, the youth immediately raised his whip, pointing at him.

"What a wild spirit you are! So rude and barbaric—you dare kill my guest? Surrender your life at once!"

Ji Ming studied this Hu Tu’er young master. His human form was complete and his manner refined, with not a hint of fox traits—surely he had accumulated much in "Illusory Form."

Against such a figure, if the young master truly wished him harm, Ji Ming had no power to resist.

"Old Master invited me into the society to enlighten the foxes. I have achieved nothing yet—how dare I throw away my life?"

Ji Ming neither admitted to killing the two monsters nor denied it. His words sounded meek, but left himself some room. If the young master pursued the matter further, Ji Ming would have something to say before Old Master, avoiding being too passive.

"I am also a student of the society. What can you teach me?" Hu Tu’er asked.

"Turning fate, reversing yin and yang, shifting stars and constellations..."

"You can do all that?" Hu Tu’er’s eyes lit up, unconsciously lowering his raised arm.

"I can do none of it," Ji Ming replied.

Hu Tu’er flushed, angrily snapping his whip twice. "Then what can you do?"

Ji Ming raised a talon, revealing his battle claw. "The art of borrowing things."

Hu Tu’er regarded the talon seriously and asked, "Sir, what is... the art of borrowing things?"

"Climbing high to signal—though the arm is not lengthened, the view is far; calling with the wind—though the voice is not louder, it is heard more clearly.

Borrowing carriage or horse—not for swift feet, but to travel a thousand miles; borrowing boat or oar—not for swimming skill, but to cross rivers.

A gentleman’s life is not different, but excels in borrowing things."

"Excellent!"

Old Master Hu arrived from the Fox Society and, upon hearing this, said, "'A gentleman’s life is not different, but excels in borrowing things.' Hu Tu’er, if you truly grasp this, you are not far from enlightenment."

"I understand," Hu Tu’er said. Though still somewhat dissatisfied, he recognized the profound meaning in these words—surpassing many teachings of sages. He had to admit Old Master was wise to invite Ji Ming into the society.