Shadowsong cleared his throat and slowly began to tell the story of One Thousand and One Nights:
"Long ago, in an ancient kingdom, there was a king who had suffered the betrayal of his beloved. Ever since, he developed a deep hatred for women.
In his quest for revenge, he held a wedding every day—only to cruelly execute his new bride the very same night.
His brutal actions left all the young women in the land in fear, until one brave girl, moved by the tragedy, decided to put an end to the bloodshed. She volunteered to become the king's next bride.
But unlike the others, as soon as she entered the palace, she began to tell the king a story. Her tale was captivating—but just as it reached its most exciting point, she abruptly stopped at dawn.
"The king, utterly absorbed, asked, 'Why aren't you finishing the story?"
"She replied, 'I cannot. The sun is rising, and you'll have me executed."
"The king, eager to hear the ending, granted her a stay of execution."
"The next night, she told another story—equally thrilling—and once again stopped at dawn. The king had no choice but to let her live again."
"And so it went, night after night. In total, she told one thousand and one stories over nearly three years. Eventually, the king was moved by her wisdom and compassion. He spared her life and preserved all her stories."
Shadowsong couldn't recall every detail of the original, but recounted it as best he remembered.
"I started thinking," Shadowsong continued with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "I'm kind of like that girl. I don't have a thousand amazing stories, so all I can do… is get you used to a better life. That way, you won't want to eat me. You won't bear to!"
As soon as the words left his mouth, he shoved Bingdi away and dashed off.
Bingdi froze for a second before she realized what he meant. "Oh, so now I'm the bloodthirsty king?! You're so asking for it!"
She flailed her tiny arms and chased after him. Neither of them used any soul power they just played and laughed, tumbling about in a chaotic mess, until they finally collapsed together into a bamboo rocking chair, both out of breath, both smiling.
"If life keeps getting better like this…" Bingdi said with a giggle, "maybe I really won't want to eat you."
Shadowsong shook his head. "Better? This is nothing. So far, we've just got some chilled fruit, a few new dishes, hotpot, and my proudest creation: a water-cooled air system using underground springs. And that's it. You think this is enough?"
"We still don't have electricity. No internet. No phones. Not even a Little Tyrant game console. When the night gets boring, all I can do is hold you and count stars in the courtyard. I'm not settling for just this."
"But… we only have ten thousand years," Bingdi murmured, suddenly melancholic.
"That's a problem for the future. When the time comes, maybe we can renegotiate the terms of our deal. Honestly, even if we only lived as humans, ten thousand years would be incredibly rich. That's the beauty of being human—so much meaning in such a short life."
Bingdi nodded without realizing it. Just these past few days had left a deeper mark on her than centuries of training in the Extreme North.
"I've been really happy spending time with you," she mumbled, burying her face in Shadowsong's chest, as if trying to hide her flushed cheeks.
"Let's stay together forever, okay? I—I promise I won't try to eat you anymore." Her voice trembled as she said it, her head still tucked against his chest.
Shadowsong blinked in surprise, a strange feeling fluttering in his chest. Is this what they call a happy ending?
Out loud, he said, "Sure. It's a promise. No backing out."
"Pinky swear?"
"Pinky swear."
Holding her tightly, Shadowsong let his emotions settle before standing up with Bingdi in his arms. "I've got something to confess. I've been keeping something from you."
He set her down and led her to the backyard. From beneath a pile of junk, he pulled out a long iron tube with a wooden handle and bit open a paper packet.
"Black powder. Our ancestors' invention," he said, pouring the gunpowder into the barrel and packing it with a conical Minié ball. Then, using a ramrod, he tamped the bullet down firmly. "This is a smoothbore flintlock—one of the simplest firearms."
He raised the gun and aimed it carefully. "Watch out. It'll fire a fast-moving lead bullet. Brace yourself."
Of course, Shadowsong knew this primitive weapon wouldn't hurt Bingdi. But a warning was still polite.
Bingdi had a vague idea what he was getting at. Rather than being angry, she felt a strange, giddy delight. She nodded, giving him permission to continue.
Shadowsong pulled the trigger. The lead bullet zipped through the air—only to be caught effortlessly between Bingdi's fingers, still glowing faintly hot.
"That's it? I thought you were hiding some kind of super weapon! This thing? Even a four-ring Soul Master could block it if they were prepared. And if it's a surprise attack, it still wouldn't kill someone with six rings or more." She sounded a little… disappointed.
Shadowsong put the gun down and smiled. "Right now, it's weak. It fires a single, low-powered bullet and takes half a minute to reload.
But just like our improving lifestyle, it'll evolve too—from smoothbore to rifled, from muzzle-loading to breech-loading.
Eventually, it might shoot faster, farther, with greater power. Someday, it might shine like the sun—a weapon capable of destroying entire continents. Ten thousand years… If we work at it long enough, is there anything we can't do?"
"Are you serious?" Bingdi squinted at him, clearly skeptical. "Destroy a continent? That's pushing it."
"Okay, maybe not a continent," Shadowsong laughed. "But destroying an empire? That I can do."
He wasn't joking. The principle of a nuclear bomb wasn't especially complex. The hard part was enriching uranium-235. But given enough time and experiments, even that could be figured out. With methods like centrifugal separation, ten thousand years would be more than enough to perfect the process.
"So, what was your original plan?" Bingdi asked, eyes narrowed with suspicion.
Shadowsong scratched his head sheepishly. "Honestly? This was all meant to deal with you. Because once I told you where the Myriad-Year Ice Marrow was after ten thousand years, I'd be completely powerless to resist."
"You jerk! I trusted you, and this is how you planned to treat me?!" Bingdi turned away from him with a pout, refusing to meet his eyes.
But Shadowsong scooped her up and held her tightly. "That's exactly why I'm telling you now. Because when that day comes, my gun won't be aimed at you it'll be aimed at the ones trying to take our soul rings."