My Path to Immortality with a Blade of Grass - Chapter 4

05

A parrot with brilliantly colored, silken feathers glided down in front of me, every beat of his wings the very picture of elegance.

His wing feathers shaded from the deep blue of ocean waves at night to the fresh blue of a midsummer morning sky.

His tail and crest were the brightest, most dazzling, most passionate red of poppies in full bloom.

Bathed in the colors of the sunset, this embodiment of nature’s beauty seemed like a phoenix descending from the highest heavens, radiant with sacred light.

All of the above was the parrot’s own boasting, delivered after we became friends.

After all, snakes are color-blind.

As I remember it, all I saw was a large, delicious-looking bird suddenly dropping out of the sky while I was hungry enough to cry.

Thank you, nature, for your bounty.

Before he could react, I drew back the front half of my body, bared my fangs, and lunged.

Just before I finished constricting him to death, the parrot spoke.

“Wait.”

I tilted my head at him.

“That blade of grass you keep in the old immortal’s herb garden sent me to find you,” he said.

As it turned out, the abundant spiritual energy in the garden often attracted birds and beasts.

But after I moved in, most of them had been too intimidated by my over five hundred years of cultivation—and my title as the immortal’s personally appointed garden guardian—to venture inside.

When I was captured, my little Lingzhi was frantic. Unfortunately, as a plant, he couldn’t cross mountains and seas to find me.

So when the parrot worked up the nerve to slip into the garden for some spiritual energy, little Lingzhi begged him to track me down and bring me back.

“What can I say? I’m a parrot—the bird who understands love and romance better than any other in this glorious, colorful world!” The parrot was thoroughly enchanted with himself. “When I beheld your little grass’s anguish, when I understood the bond and devotion that transcended your species, when I sensed the god of love hovering above you, guiding your way—how could I deny my very nature and refuse to help these lovers in distress?”

Out of his entire speech, my heart caught only a few words.

Love.

Lovers.

An immense ache and an immense joy seized my heart. I went weak all over, as though I’d been pinned at my most vulnerable spot.

Snakes couldn’t shed tears, yet I felt as if my soul were about to split open, exposing something soft and wet.

Like bitter broth.

Like honey.

“Love?” I murmured.

“Yes, love!” The parrot fluttered around me, singing out in a soaring, operatic voice. “Have you ever tossed and turned because of him? Worried yourself sick over him? Given up your principles for him? Found the strength to brave any obstacle for him? Become a better version of yourself for him…?”

As I kept nodding, the parrot finally landed in front of me again. He looked straight into my eyes and said gravely:

“You’re in love with him.”

“I’m in love with him?” I repeated instinctively.

But as soon as I said it, my breath caught. My heart pounded almost painfully in my chest, and my exhausted body filled with boundless strength.

A sweet smile spread across my face.

“I’m in love with him,” I said with absolute certainty.