Chapter 7: The Fledgling Crow, Shadow of a Name

Outside the temple, atop the ancient locust tree, within the crow’s nest.

There were six white eggs nestled in that nest. Suddenly, a female crow, her beak stained with blood, flew back in a panic.

“Caw~”

Another large crow returned as well, tilting its head back and letting out a loud cry, as if chastising the female for leaving the nest and delaying the incubation of the eggs.

The female made no reply, quietly settling herself back upon the eggs, maintaining their warmth and occasionally turning them to aid the development of the embryos within.

Seeing this, the male crow cocked his head, refraining from further reproach.

He called upon the grown fledglings from previous broods, forming a flock that flew out together to forage.

About two weeks later, the eggs began to hatch one by one. The newborn chicks, eyes clenched shut, opened their wide mouths, waiting for their father’s feeding.

Among them, one always flapped its tiny wings, pushing ahead of its siblings to seize the food from the father, eating until it was thoroughly satisfied.

After a week of feeding, the father noticed this chick’s enormous appetite.

Whether insects, grains, nuts, or even mice and river frogs, nothing was refused. Its bird stomach seemed a bottomless pit.

Helpless, the female crow left the nest early, joining the male to share the burden of feeding.

Another week passed, and the father crow made a new discovery.

This chick always performed two actions within the nest: standing on one leg, and stretching its wings wide. Both movements could be sustained for a remarkable length of time.

The father’s intelligence could not decipher the reason.

As one of nature’s rare, dutiful birds, the crow couple labored ceaselessly for over a month, catering to the demands of their ravenous chick.

During this time, the chick grew rapidly, its feathers glossy and jet-black, its stature soon surpassing that of its father.

“Caw~”

On the day of its first flight, the gluttonous crow let out a piercing call.

“Caw, caw...”

Instantly, all the crows perched on the locust tree branches cheered for this robust new brother.

The gluttonous crow—no, Ji Ming—stood on one leg at the edge of the nest, as the crow parents circled expectantly, anticipating the fledgling’s maiden flight.

Ji Ming spread his wings lightly, hesitated not a moment, descended from the nest, keenly feeling the wind beneath his wings, then beat them once and soared into the distance.

With a single powerful stroke, he traversed thickets and streams.

The gentle currents caressed his plumage, filling him with an unspoken exhilaration, momentarily allowing him to forget the troubles of his previous life.

He flew over hills, skimmed treetops.

Before his eyes, the rolling mountains unfolded like a living tapestry, layers of emerald and deep green weaving tightly together.

“Caw!”

He cried out, plunging downward, wings slightly drawn, increasing his speed in the dive.

Through the grass, Ji Ming’s crow form flashed like a black streak, and beneath his talons, a struggling gray rabbit appeared.

His claws tightened, and the rabbit fell silent.

Ji Ming perched on a branch, relishing the fresh blood and flesh, savoring every bite.

From the moment he hatched, he instinctively practiced the standing and stretching forms from the "Crane Control Art," which increased his appetite.

Fortunately, the crow couple were diligent; otherwise, he would surely have starved.

It was never easy, in any life!

After capturing another plump rabbit in the forest, Ji Ming promptly returned to the nest, offering it to the crows who had raised him.

The crow parents glanced at the rabbit, then at the chicks—smaller than Ji Ming—and tore off pieces of meat, distributing them among the nestlings.

“Caw~”

Ji Ming called out awkwardly, then went hunting again.

With the Crane Control forms, as long as he had enough nourishment, his physique visibly grew stronger.

In the surrounding woods, mice, rabbits, wild chicks—no small animal escaped his sharp talons, becoming sustenance for his continued growth.

Only three or four months passed before his size exceeded that of ordinary crows, rivaling that of hawks and falcons.

When he perched atop the tallest treetop, no bird dared fly higher in his presence, for his diet now included birds—except crows.

At this stage, Ji Ming knew that even his secret arts could not further enhance his strength.

His beak could pierce earth and stone; his claws easily snapped bones; his hunting dives so swift that few prey could escape.

He had become the roaming king of these woods.

This achievement brought him joy, yet in his treasured eye, the character of reincarnation had only begun to faintly appear, weighing his heart with worry.

Without the safeguard of the treasured eye, he never felt secure.

In his previous two lives, when born as a human, it took roughly ten years for the shadowed character to grow clear and truly manifest within the eye.

Would he have to wait another ten years in this life?

If something befell him in that time, would he be left with no way out?

With a sudden crash, distracted by his turbulent thoughts, he crushed the branch beneath his talons, causing his entire body to drop.

He spread his wings wide, caught the wind effortlessly, and soared aloft.

He knew he must continue to grow stronger, to secure his survival for the next ten years.

Only one path remained to him: to become a "spirit creature."

He needed a mentor to guide him, but before seeking such a master, he first had to verify something.

Beside the ancient locust tree stood the old temple of Lord Boni—the site where Ji Ming died in his previous life.

When Ji Ming landed on the locust tree, the flock scattered in fright, leaving him feeling helpless.

Perhaps he had hunted too much in these months, or perhaps his aura had grown too potent; he always startled the birds and beasts nearby.

He had watched the old temple from the tree for months.

During the day, Lord Boni still played the role of a clay demon, leading a clay horse, though it was unclear who this spectacle was for.

At night, he left the temple early, always returning cheerfully with a swollen belly, riding the clay horse.

Whether Lord Boni knew that on the locust tree outside, a crow was always observing him through the broken temple roof, was uncertain.

One day, Ji Ming saw a familiar tiger spirit once again carrying a human into the temple.

“As expected, another round of gambling—nothing in the game has changed.”

Ji Ming lifted his wings lightly, settling on one side of the temple ridge, his jet-black feathers blending with the stone ridge beasts.

He observed the temple’s interior closely.

The Lady of White Bones arrived early as usual, bringing seven or eight ghostly flames for illumination.

Next came Mouse Four, wearing his round cap.

To Ji Ming, neither Mouse Four nor the Mouse Three who had died at his hands seemed particularly powerful; how they had become spirit creatures remained a mystery.

Mouse Four was in low spirits, and upon entering, knelt and pleaded with Lord Boni.

“Third Brother died so tragically, Lord Boni, could you grant me his head so I might honor him?”

“Don’t jest,” Lord Boni replied with displeasure, rebuking him, “Mere mice—how dare you disturb my pleasure?”

“Lord Boni, my brother and I served as Hu family’s book boys, attending Young Master Hu. If not for me, at least show some respect for the Hu family.”

Mouse Four removed his cap, his voice plaintive.

Lord Boni scoffed at Mouse Four’s threat, barely bothering to respond, and rudely expelled him from the temple.

Soon after, two new "gamblers" arrived at the old temple.