Chapter Sixteen: The Phoenix Clan’s Tendency to Lose Things

“Cat?” Feng Yan Hua and Feng You exchanged glances. There were many spirit birds on Feng Qi Mountain, and plenty of spirit cats who favored them as prey. Yet, to slip silently into the ancestral hall of the Feng family, swap the Feng feather for a peacock’s plume, and even obtain the Feng Immortal Spirit Flower—only the King of Spirit Cats could manage such a feat.

The Spirit Cat King, with a thousand years of cultivation, had long resided on Feng Qi Mountain, always maintaining peaceful distance from the Feng clan. Why would it, in its old age, suddenly seek excitement?

“What color was the cat?” Feng You asked.

The servant recalled carefully, “It was probably pure white. The cat moved so quickly, I only caught a fleeting shadow.”

“White? The Spirit Cat King’s true form is brown-black.” Feng You looked up at Feng Yan Hua, calmly analyzing, “It seems Feng Qi Mountain has an unexpected guest.”

“Send a search party!” Feng Yan Hua clenched his fists, restraining himself from smashing the table in the ancestral hall.

“Yes, sir.”

Feng You accepted the order, bowed, and left the ancestral hall. He summoned all the Feng clan’s forces, launching a mountain-wide search.

The loss of the clan emblem had already begun to undermine the elders’ recognition. If the thousand-year-old Feng feather, treasured in the ancestral hall, was lost as well, the Feng clan’s honor would be utterly ruined. Feng Yan Hua ground his teeth in fury.

“If I catch this little thief, I’ll make sure he suffers.”

Almost the entire household mobilized.

Feng Ling’er saw her father, Feng Zuo, leading a team toward the second peak of Feng Qi Mountain, his face grave. She hurried after them.

“Father! Where are you all going?”

Feng Zuo glanced back at Feng Ling’er, who followed behind, and flicked his sleeve, pushing her away.

Stumbling as she landed, Feng Ling’er’s eyes filled with disbelief.

“Father???”

“Stay home and behave. I’m off to catch a thief—don’t cause trouble.”

Feng Zuo had no time to comfort his daughter. He turned and flew away.

Feng Ling’er stamped her foot in anger. “What exactly was lost to make everyone so frantic?”

Feng Qinghe watched Feng Zuo flying off, a thought stirring in his mind. He quickly headed toward the clan’s ancestral hall.

Seeing Feng Qinghe’s movement, the others followed.

Right now, all Feng Yan Hua could think about was the thief who stole the Feng feather. He only realized he’d forgotten something important when Feng Qinghe arrived at the ancestral hall with the group.

“Our home has been robbed, and the Feng estate is in chaos. I fear we’ve embarrassed Young Master Yuan,” Feng Yan Hua came out to greet them, his former smile gone.

Yuan Yi Bai looked around. “It must have been something of great importance.”

Feng Yan Hua forced a laugh. He couldn’t bring himself to admit the loss of the Feng feather.

But Feng Qinghe was not afraid to ask.

Feng Qinghe entered the ancestral hall, picked up the scorched feather from the floor, studied it closely, and looked gravely at Feng Yan Hua. “Fourth uncle, was the Feng feather stolen?”

“What?” Feng Yan Hua hadn’t expected Feng Qinghe to mention it in front of the representatives of the Five Great Families. If Yuan Yi Bai returned home and told his father, his reputation as clan leader would be even more damaged.

Though unhappy, he couldn’t deny it. “The Feng feather was indeed stolen by a thief. We’ve sent people to retrieve it; it should be found soon.”

Feng Qinghe, ever the spoiler, remarked, “This peacock feather must have been placed here to deceive for quite some time. Are we even sure the thief is still on Feng Qi Mountain?”

Feng Yan Hua’s expression shifted. He glared at Feng Qinghe.

“You all have worked hard in the lower realm. Go rest in your rooms—I’ll handle this!”

Having said what he needed, Feng Qinghe put down the scorched feather and left the ancestral hall, heading toward You Xi Yue and Yuan Yi Bai.

“Since Fourth Uncle has made arrangements, I’ll take Master and Young Master Yuan to rest.”

“Yes, yes, go!” Feng Qinghe lingered any longer and Feng Yan Hua would have fled himself. He waved them off, unable to meet Yuan Yi Bai’s gaze.

The younger generation, including Feng Ling’er, left the ancestral hall and returned to their rooms.

Feng Qinghe led You Xi Yue and Yuan Yi Bai toward the guest courtyard.

“Your Feng clan is quite adept at losing things,” Yuan Yi Bai joked, glancing at Feng Qinghe. “Losing the clan emblem was one thing, but now even your treasured Feng feather is gone.”

Though he sensed Yuan Yi Bai’s sarcasm, Feng Qinghe took it in stride, leading the way with a calm voice. “Sooner or later, I’ll reclaim everything that was lost.”

Everyone present understood the implication.

Yuan Yi Bai was no fool. Feng Qinghe’s father’s sudden passing was suspicious, and Feng Qinghe’s conduct along the journey had revealed much.

“Then I wish you fulfillment of your desires soon.”

Feng Qinghe finally turned to look at Yuan Yi Bai. “Thank you.”

You Xi Yue’s eyes brightened at Yuan Yi Bai’s blessing, her gaze resting on Feng Qinghe.

At this moment, Feng Qinghe was only at the Transformation stage; Feng Yan Hua had already reached the Immortal stage—a vast distance remained.

She sighed, shaking her head. The light in her eyes dimmed.

“Master, I will work twice as hard. I won’t let you down,” Feng Qinghe, anxious at You Xi Yue’s sigh and the sudden gloom in her eyes, hurriedly pledged his resolve.

“Very well.”

You Xi Yue bypassed Feng Qinghe, pushed open a guest room door, and entered.

“I’ll sleep here,” she said, closing the door behind her.

Feng Qinghe stood stunned for a long while, uncertain how he had disappointed his master.

Yuan Yi Bai patted Feng Qinghe’s shoulder. “She’s probably just tired. You know how well she sleeps.”

Feng Qinghe pursed his lips and nodded.

Yuan Yi Bai smiled, chose the room next to You Xi Yue’s, and went in.

Feng Qinghe lingered outside You Xi Yue’s door for a long time before finally coming to his senses.

Rather than overthinking, he might as well return to cultivate.

His master had given him many immortal herbs to speed his training.

He couldn’t let her kindness go to waste.

Once Feng Qinghe walked away, Jun Yang leapt from You Xi Yue’s shoulder, sealing the guest room entirely.

“Why not just kill Feng Yan Hua, the old man, for your little disciple, and install him as clan leader? Wouldn’t that fulfill the wish easily?”

You Xi Yue took out the Dream Mushroom, lay upon it, gazing blankly at the ceiling.

“If you did that, your little disciple would hardly last a few days in that position. Do you think Feng An Lin would rest in peace? If he does not, the wish remains unfulfilled.”

“But…” Jun Yang wanted to argue further, but seeing You Xi Yue’s eyes already closed, he knew she wished to say no more.

Jun Yang flicked his tongue and swept his spiritual sense toward You Xi Yue’s dantian.

There, visible only to Jun Yang, was a miniature version of You Xi Yue’s nascent soul, wrapped in seven different colored lights.

Each light represented a wish.

As long as the wish remained unfulfilled, the light would not fade.

The Rainbow Curse, a legendary ancient holy spell.

Who would have thought it truly existed—and would be placed upon this girl of barely a dozen years?

No one could imagine how much she endured beneath her powerful cultivation.

Given the choice, Jun Yang would rather ascend step by step through cultivation, never choosing such a path to strength.

Thus, he deeply understood why You Xi Yue always claimed to be unlucky.