Chapter 43 Gongkong III

　　—The greatest of heroes act for the nation and for the people.

　　Great Chieftain Gongdian had already received the carrierpigeon message dispatched from the capital by the EagleGod King. The Eagle King ordered Gongdian to set out at once for the capital to accept mediation on the matters of human sacrifice and labor service.

　　Gongdian communicated with Lian Kui by carrier pigeon; the two sides agreed upon an auspicious day and prepared to travel together to the capital.

　　As Great Chieftain, Gongdian, before departure, notified the chieftains of the other tribes of the Gongyou Clan that he would be going to the capital to accept mediation.

　　When Gongkong learned that Gongdian was about to depart for the capital he hurried at once to the Great Chieftain’s residence and requested an audience.

　　“Father, you must on no account go to the capital.”

　　“Gongkong, what do you mean?”

　　Ever since Gongkong had opened the power of futureeye penetration and remotely viewed the earthshaking cataclysm that would occur in the future, he had been startled awake by nightmares every midnight. The scenes of the impending tragic spectacle upon the continent of Mu shocked him to the core and he could not set them aside for a long time.

　　“Father, this time when I went to the Tianyou Clan I met Great Master Tianyouzi. She helped me open the magical eye; both she and I have foreseen that the age of peace upon the continent of Mu is about to end and that a storm of blood and violence is about to descend.”

　　“Is that so? Must our Gongyou Clan again suffer the hardships of war?”

　　“Father, it will certainly happen in the future. As Great Chieftain of the Gongyou Clan, when catastrophe is about to arrive you should remain in Wangqiu City and not travel north, placing yourself in a dangerous place.”

　　This was the second person who had advised Gongdian not to go to the capital; previously Ge Xiong had said the same, yet Gongdian remained unmoved: “Live toward death; die and be reborn. This time, no matter how great the danger, even if it costs my life, I must go in person. Gongkong, do you know why?”

　　“Your son does not know.”

　　“After our defeat in the War of the Gods that year, our Gongyou Clan was forced to sign a treaty under the city walls. One of its clauses required us to contribute human sacrifices and laborers every year. At that time I underestimated the greed of the Green Clan and thus created today’s evil consequences. It was I who rashly signed the agreement; the mistake I committed must be borne by me and corrected by me!”

　　Seeing that Gongdian’s resolve to go was already firm and knowing that any further obstruction would be futile, Gongkong said: “Father, if you insist on going, then please take me with you; I shall serve as your bodyguard.”

　　“No. Your identity must not become known to the Green Clan.”

　　Carrying the regret of having failed to persuade Gongdian, Gongkong left the Great Chieftain’s residence with lowered head and gloomy spirits. He collided fullon with a person rushing toward him in the opposite direction.

　　That person staggered from the collision and nearly sat down upon the ground. Looking up and seeing it was Gongkong, his face showed annoyance: “Gongkong, why don’t you watch where you’re walking? What are you thinking about with your head down?”

　　The newcomer was GuardArmy Grand General Gong Wei. He had long heard of Gongkong’s frequent visits to the sacrificial platform. Seeing Gongkong’s absentminded appearance he continued half in jest: “Could it be that you have quarreled with that female humanclan celestial god? Every one of you is troublesome. Gong Kang is missing now—you wouldn’t…”

　　“Damn it, Grand General, you may eat as much rice as you like, but you must not talk nonsense and ruin my reputation. In this world only women are fascinated by me, Gongkong. Why don’t you go and ask those brothels outside the city—which of the leading courtesans is not jealous over me…”

　　“You, Gongkong, still cherish reputation? Forget it. Those girls in the outercity dens are indeed jealous over you. I hear that these past few days every one of them is looking melancholy, saying that Third Young Master has not come for a long time and must have found a new sweetheart.”

　　“Oh—so the Grand General is also a regular customer.”

　　“You… you rascal, you must not talk nonsense. If my wife hears of it she will certainly…”

　　Hearing that Grand General Gong Wei in his agitation was actually imitating his own manner of speech, Gongkong laughed: “Grand General, who does not know you are henpecked? Even if you were given the courage you would not dare. Mm—what are you rushing off for in such a hurry?”

　　“Ah, Gongkong, let me tell you—I never expected such a strange thing would happen. Among the phoenix eggs we brought back from the last hunt, one with a crack actually hatched a little phoenix. It broke out of the shell and even pecked one of our cooks. I was just about to report to the Great Chieftain and ask how to handle it.”

　　Hearing this, Gongkong’s interest was immediately aroused: “Such a thing? The Great Chieftain is busy with official affairs; for a small matter like this the Grand General need not trouble him. How about I help you settle it?”

　　“You have a method? How will you settle it?”

　　“I have my ways.” Without further argument Gongkong pulled Gong Wei along.

　　They came to the kitchen of the inner city, a treehouse with its own independent courtyard.

　　The moment they entered the courtyard they saw a brilliantly colored great bird flapping about everywhere, smashing pots and pans to pieces. In one corner of the courtyard fragments of eggshell still remained.

　　Beside the courtyard several cooks holding kitchen knives looked terrified as they circled the great bird yet dared not approach.

　　Kitchen Steward Ji Mazi, seeing Gongkong and Gong Wei enter, hurriedly came forward with a smiling face: “Third Young Master, Grand General, you have come at last. Today I shall slaughter this great bird and stew soup for the Great Chieftain and you.”

　　Hearing this, Gongkong hastily waved his hands: “Stew soup? Absolutely not! This is a phoenix—an auspicious omen sent by Heaven. How can it be killed? All of you stand farther away and let me deal with it.”

　　With that Gongkong approached the great bird, quietly pushed the yellow headcloth covering his forehead upward a little, and revealed the third eye.

　　In order not to expose himself he first used the art of mind control learned from the Tianyou Clan to control the onlookers so that they could not see his third eye; only then did he calmly fix the celestial eye upon the great bird. Strangely, before long the ferocity in the bird’s eyes gradually faded.

　　Gongkong stepped forward, stroked the little phoenix’s head, made it crouch obediently upon the ground, then mounted it and began to ride it in circles around the courtyard.

　　Gong Wei had never expected Gongkong to possess such skill in taming beasts; he raised a thumb and, imitating Gongkong’s curse, said: “Damn it—still you, you ruffian, have the method.”

　　“Grand General, give this bird to me.”

　　“Gongkong, be careful—this is a phoenix.”

　　“Rest easy. Don’t you see that under my thighs this bird is as gentle as the girls in the dens outside the city?”

　　Gongkong rode the little phoenix to the pyramid sacrificial platform.

　　It was then noon.

　　Su Ziqi and her companions had already adapted to life in the Gongyou Clan; they no longer complained to Heaven or blamed others and, adopting the attitude of making the best of their situation, lived quietly in the tree hollow of the sacrificial platform.

　　When Gongkong arrived, Su Ziqi and the three women were roasting meat and steaming maize upon the open platform; the fragrance of roasted meat mixed with the fresh scent of maize came toward them.

　　Gongkong’s mouth watered: “Better late than never—today I have good fortune again.”

　　Su Ziqi, seeing the great bird Gongkong was riding, asked in astonishment: “Gongkong, what is that you are riding?”

　　“Guess.”

　　Zheng Ya examined the great bird carefully: “Ziqi, I think it looks like a huge red rooster.”

　　“Sister Ya, I think it looks like a cross between an ostrich and a peacock, only larger than an ostrich and far more brightly colored than a peacock.”

　　Just then Professor Dong Yifeng emerged from the treehouse. The moment he saw the great bird he was struck dumb, his eyes wide and his mouth open. Only after a long while did he recover and, excited, walk toward the bird and reach out to touch it. The bird gave a sharp cry and opened its beak to peck him; Gongkong hurriedly restrained it.

　　Professor Dong hastily withdrew his hand, then pointed at the bird and said excitedly: “This is a phoenix—this is the legendary phoenix!”

　　Hearing this, Su Ziqi and the others were greatly astonished. Never having expected that the mythical great bird would appear before their eyes, they all crowded around to look.

　　The great bird had a comb like a rooster’s and a beak identical to a rooster’s; it stood as tall as a small horse, its entire body covered in brilliantly colored plumage, looking full of spirit.

　　“Correct—this is a little phoenix that has just broken out of its shell. It grows with the wind and is already this large at birth.”

　　Su Ziqi asked: “Gongkong, can it fly?”

　　“Sister Ziqi, of course it can fly. Do you not wish to try riding it and soaring through the sky?”

　　Gongkong pressed a hand upon the little phoenix’s head, making the bird crouch obediently upon the ground, then extended a hand to Su Ziqi, inviting her to mount the little phoenix; he himself sat behind her.

　　Gongkong again pressed his hand upon the phoenix’s head and secretly infused spiritual power. Before long the bird raised its head and gave a long cry, ran a few steps forward, and spread its wings into flight.

　　The little phoenix flew higher and higher, first circling the tops of the giant firs at the summit of the pyramid, then turning and flying southward.

　　Su Ziqi clasped the little phoenix’s neck tightly and looked down at the ground; the Nanyu Forest stretched green in every direction, a carpet of verdure filling the eye.

　　It was then the turn of spring and summer. The little phoenix was flying over the summit of a mountain range; looking down one saw seas of strange flowers in full bloom, their myriad colors adorning the mountains with gorgeous beauty.

　　After a single cry from the phoenix the hundred birds of the mountains also began to call in unison, as though paying homage to the king of birds, and began to fly in company.

　　Birds of every color and size followed the phoenix’s colorful form, flying back and forth around its tail like a flying rainbow.

　　“This is the socalled ‘hundred birds paying court to the phoenix’!” Su Ziqi exclaimed.

　　In the distant sky clouds and mist swirled; in the valleys of the forest ancient trees reached the heavens, layered peaks rose one upon another, lush and green; deep gorges and open valleys alternated; animals ran through the forest. Everything was so full of life—a scene of peace. Was this wondrous planet a fairyland?

　　“Your forest is truly beautiful!”

　　“Yes—only regrettably beautiful things are always so brief.” Once more the catastrophic scenes he had remotely viewed of the future floated into Gongkong’s mind.

　　“What do you mean?”

　　“Oh, nothing. How I wish I could forever ride the phoenix with Sister Ziqi like this, flying freely in the air without constraint, never again troubled by the affairs of the world.”

　　Su Ziqi’s face flushed with embarrassment. She was six years older than Gongkong. During her studies at Harvard she had once had a boyfriend; later, because she returned to China for work, they had parted. She had never expected that she would traverse to ten thousand years earlier, upon an alien planet, and be pursued by an alien younger than herself.

　　The two of them were immersed in love; their affection, following the sevencolored phoenix, flew into the air and drifted into the distance.

　　In Gongkong’s ears rose the song Su Ziqi sang:

　　I am a grain of pure white dust,

　　trampled by people, washed by the sea.

　　The north wind blows me, cleansing my soul.

　　I drift into the universe;

　　the clear vacuum envelops me;

　　I enjoy a loneliness like asphyxiation.

　　Leaving this turbid world, I have not the least reluctance.

　　I am like a kite whose string has broken,

　　freed from the tether of the rope,

　　left only with the melancholy of a traveler.

　　I drift and drift—

　　toward the space without human feelings and worldly affairs,

　　toward the nothingness that possesses nothing.

　　I look up at the Milky Way;

　　in that sea of stars

　　there is a you, clad in stars and moon, waiting for me.

　　The light of the distance guides my journey;

　　I have traversed hundreds of billions of lightyears

　　to come here and meet you.

　　The wind has blown me here,

　　yet has covered the road by which I came.

　　The future is vague and misty;

　　you and I are destined to be bound.

　　My heart belongs to you, my earth.

　　I am like a snowflake

　　dancing as it drifts toward the earth;

　　I fall upon the ground

　　and finally melt into a drop of water.

　　Without having tasted the bitterness of the human world,

　　do not laugh at others’ folly.

　　Though the human world is full of wasted years,

　　it is still worth coming.