The only creature capable of living peacefully after losing its "identity" is probably me.

  I used to be the owner of "Endless" (Bu Ting), and now I'm the owner of "Sound of Twilight′" (Mu Sheng). I was once the tree yaokai, Shā Luó, with thousands of years of cultivation, able to traverse heaven and earth, but now I'm just an ordinary human, living in a mortal body, with less than a year left on my life span. If I don′t "find myself" within this period, my true self might be lost forever. I used to be surrounded by countless other creatures, with plenty of gold as reward, but now, aside from a part-time helper who makes cotton candy in my shop, the only visitors I have are occasional human customers coming for tarot readings.

  Yes, now I make a living by selling cotton candy and reading tarot cards for others. It′s a completely rough start, relying on my own effort to survive. My kin, the tree yaokai named Mù, tricked me into losing my true form and human shape with a trick that wasn′t even particurly clever. In simple terms, she is now the owner of "Endless," she is the tree yaokai Shā Luó, and she has taken everything from me.

  It′s still quite frustrating. I feel sorry for the gold that′s fallen into someone else′s pockets. Occasionally, I even miss those two fools, Pang Zi and Shou Zi.

  Without them around for me to boss around and tease, life really does feel colorless.

  I tried to analyze Mù′s psychology. She could easily take my life with just a little finger, but she doesn′t. Instead, she chooses another way to "preserve" me. I think she must have read some rebellious quotes like “Letting someone die painlessly is far less satisfying than letting them suffer and live.” Maybe she decided to put that into practice on me.

  But do I really have such a deep grudge with her?

  I just crushed the delusions of an immature little Yaokai.

  I retrieved all the memories of Mù.

  It goes back to the days when I first gained my human form and began my cultivation on the Fulong mountain.

  After every Mid-Autumn Festival, I would go down to the hollow at the foot of the mountain to search for a wild fruit called "shan mang zi" (mountain thorn fruit). It wasn't very tasty—sour with a hint of bitterness; the flesh was coarse, like small thorns tossed into your mouth. But Zi Miao insisted I eat one every day until the Winter Solstice, ciming it would help bance my energy and fortify my vitality.

  Aside from the fruit′s taste, I also remember a small, frail locust tree that stood alone in the center of that hollow. It was short, poorly developed, its branches drooping, like a messy pile of hair.

  It really was unremarkable. If it weren′t for the fact that it was the only tree in that whole hollow, I probably wouldn't have noticed it at all.

  At that time, I was still a mischievous little tree spirit, far more pyful than serious. I liked to weave the vines that grew around the hollow into nets and then run to the pond formed by the spring flowing from a dark cave to catch fish. The fish in that pond were especially beautiful—multicolored, and some even made pleasant sounds. Particurly when they were trapped in my nets, some would emit cries like babies. I found that extremely amusing, often catching them, releasing them, catching them again, and releasing them, having endless fun with my little mischief.

  The hollow was home to many small creatures—beautiful orange-winged birds, nimble white foxes, and sly ground squirrels, to name just a few. But my absolute favorite were the three-eared rabbits: bck-faced and white-bodied, as round as little furballs, often seen with their young, clumsily hopping to the edge of the pond to nibble on wild grasses that resembled moss. For these little chubby creatures, who were just begging to be teased, I would always surprise them by hiding in the shadows, then jumping out suddenly with filing arms, scaring them so much they nearly tumbled into the pond, while I stood by ughing until my stomach hurt.

  I reveled in the freedom that came with having a human form, lost in the purest and simplest joy, my body and spirit intoxicated by the sheer delight of it all.

  But that day, when the small locust tree shyly curled its branches around my arm, calling my name and pleading for me to ask Zi Miao to turn it into a human form too, I didn′t hesitate to refuse.

  "Why can't I?" The small locust tree's branches tightened around my arm, shaking in protest. "Sister, I clearly saw Zi Miao Immortal grant you your human form that night! Please, ask Zi Miao Immortal to grant me a human form too!"

  How absurd! Were we really that familiar?

  Faced with this sudden, presumptuous request from a fellow tree yaokai, I couldn't help but feel annoyed. There was no way I was going to grant her wish. Zi Miao had told me that the granting of my human form had seemed effortless, but in reality, it had drained a significant amount of his energy and spirit power. It took him forty-nine days to fully recover from the effort. My human form had been hard-earned, and he had urged me to focus on my cultivation because of that. But what stuck with me most wasn′t what Zi Miao had said; it was the pale color of his lips when he spoke. Since then, I realized that what I truly cared about wasn′t just my own cultivation—it was whether Zi Miao secretly cared for me.

  I couldn't possibly cause trouble for Zi Miao over the absurd "wish" of some stranger of my own kind. I had no real connection to this locust tree. We only exchanged occasional quiet words, and sometimes I rested against its trunk after a long day of py. But did it really think that, just because of that, we were close enough to make such a request? Ridiculous.

  "Sister Sha Luo, please take me with you!" It begged again.

  "No, I can't. I'm different from you," I began to push aside the branches that were tightly wrapped around my arm.

  "Why are we different? Didn't we come from the same pce?" It looked at me, bewildered, and perhaps even a little angry.

  "I've told you, we're not the same," I replied firmly.

  I wasn't sure why I kept stressing this point. What exactly made us so different? One born on the mountaintop, the other at the foot of the mountain. It seemed so trivial, yet it had become an argument I couldn't escape.

  "Why are we different? If you can do it, so can I! I want to live like you, freely and happily." The branches tightened around me with growing force.

  "Staying here is better for you," I repeated, struggling to pull the branches off me. I didn't have a better reason, but the more I said it, the more my words became a desperate plea.

  "Liar! You're lying! You're lying! If you can do it, why can't I?!" The branches started to wrap around my neck, filled with a violent rage, trying to choke me.

  Ridiculous. How could such a weak little locust tree be my match? Even if I had only minimal skill at the time, I was still a celestial tree yaokai, nurtured by the water god Zi Miao himself, a proud and powerful being.

  The branches were swiftly severed by my spell, breaking into several pieces with a clean snap.

  I heard her crying behind me.

  "I want to be like you... I want to eat wild fruits from the mountain, scare those plump rabbits... I want someone to talk to me, to take me on the wind, like Zi Miao does for you."