My Path to Immortality with a Blade of Grass - Chapter 7

08

After that plan failed, I was too embarrassed to visit little Immortal Grass for a while.

Clearly, I could only rely on myself.

Soon I came up with another plan.

I wanted foxtail grass to become human with me!

Otherwise, he’d be so lonely here. What if the chicks wandered into the herb garden and bullied him?

Besides, if we explored the human world together, wouldn’t I have a very, very long time to slowly tell him how I felt?

Once we became spirits, we wouldn’t age or die. With endless years ahead, as long as I could stay beside him, surely one day even a heart of stone would soften.

And so, relying entirely on myself, I took the parrot along and went to pester the old immortal in person.

First I stretched myself straight and rolled around on the ground, wheedling. When he remained unmoved, I slithered over and wound myself tightly around his legs so he couldn’t budge.

“Please, please! Let little Immortal Grass take human form and become a spirit with me!” I wailed.

A vein throbbed at the old immortal’s temple. But he couldn’t bear to pull me off by force, so he could only ask helplessly:

“Who’s little Immortal Grass?”

“The foxtail grass in your herb garden that’s gained awareness!” the parrot promptly explained.

“Foxtail grass? Impossible!” the old immortal declared. “That species can’t cultivate into a spirit! He’s only gained awareness because he’s spent so long soaking up the energy in my garden. Growing human bones and becoming a spirit? Pure fantasy!”

“But I love him so, so much! What’s the point of becoming a spirit on my own without him?” I continued shamelessly.

“Besides, with Snake being this dim, could you really bear to let her venture into the human world alone? Someone could sell her, and she’d help them count the money!”

The parrot hopped up and down on a branch, joining in.

“You know how shrewd that foxtail grass is. With him looking after her, at least your little snake won’t get caught and made into soup!”

The old immortal’s expression softened. When he heard “your little snake,” he even struggled to hide a smile.

Seeing an opening—and annoyed at his dithering—I raised the stakes.

“If you really won’t let little Immortal Grass become a spirit, how about letting me name those chicks you went to so much trouble to bring back from heaven?”

Curious now, the old immortal asked, “That I can do. What names?”

“Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner, Afternoon Tea, and Midnight Snack.”

“…Let’s get back to the foxtail grass’s transformation,” he conceded at last.

“Little Immortal Grass!” I corrected him eagerly.

With me, the old immortal had never been some lofty, unapproachable being. He was more like a fond, indulgent grandfather. Perhaps that was why, even before I’d guessed his identity, I’d never feared his formidable powers and had dared sneak into his yard to steal chickens so many times.

This time was no exception.

Under my pitiful gaze, he tugged at his beard and thought for a moment. Soon his eyes curved into a smile. He’d found a way to satisfy my unreasonable demand.

“This herb garden was built over Kunlun’s dragon vein, a blessed site where the earth’s spiritual energies converge. And the spot where the lingzhi used to grow is the wellspring of that energy—the most nourishing place of all.” At the mention of the lingzhi, he glared at me. “I can transplant the foxt—little Immortal Grass there, then use talismans and formations to help his roots reach beneath the layers of rock. I’ll teach him secret chants and methods so he can draw directly on Kunlun’s spiritual power. Since that same power is what gave him awareness, he will soon be able to become a spirit and take human form!”

No sooner said than done. After endless pleading from me, the softhearted old immortal prepared everything little Immortal Grass needed that very day. Under my supervision, he transplanted him into the hole where the plump lingzhi had once stood.

A few weeks later, my little Immortal Grass suddenly began growing at an astonishing rate.

Before long, he’d gone from foxtail grass to foxtail tree.

Looking at his towering form, I felt enormously proud—and a little sad.

Now everyone could see how tall and sturdy he was. Everyone could easily recognize the spiritual energy surrounding him. Everyone would call him immortal grass…

He’d never been my foxtail grass alone.

And now he wouldn’t be my little Immortal Grass alone, either.

Luckily, I still seemed to be the only little snake in his eyes.

Tall as he was, he still liked to bend his stalk clumsily down and pat my head with his seed head when I felt sad or lost. But perhaps he wasn’t used to being so huge and unwieldy. He often accidentally knocked me over or patted too hard.

Then he’d freeze, utterly at a loss. He wanted to bend down and comfort me again, but was afraid of hurting me. All he could do was anxiously wave his seed head, as though frantically trying to apologize.

Whenever that happened, I’d stretch my head up and nuzzle him as he bent toward me.