"It was worth an attempt," Bai Qingyue replied, tone flat and lacking any emotion. He withdrew his blade slowly, body upright and expression indifferent.
The immortal chuckled amusedly. He lowered himself to the ground, wobbling slightly on his feet.
His words, when he spoke, were archaic and heavy with an unfamiliar accent.
"What a grand greeting! The Lord of the Huli Jing certainly lives up to his reputation. Had I been anyone else, I would have perished instantly!" He rose into the air again and gripped the tip of Bai Qingyue's blade with long, webbed fingers. "Tell me, have you grown tired of playing with humans, Sovereign Lord? What would your unsuspecting wife say if she saw you now?" the immortal asked, cackling with his brittle voice. "It would be quite entertaining to see her reaction to a perfect imitation of herself. What a dangerous skill shapeshifting is."
Bai Qingyue's expressionless face twisted suddenly.
"I see you have come to court death," he snarled. Narrowing his eyes, he drove the blade's sharp edge towards the immortal's throat in a slicing motion.
The immortal squawked at the near impact, and instantly vanished as though never there.
His presence remained, the strong, fishy smell still lingering in the air.
Cackling laughter echoed a moment later, as the immortal rematerialized a few steps away. One webbed hand rubbed at his neck.
"Ooh, close call! How did you find my weak spot so easily?"
Bai Qingyue did not answer, instead making to strike again.
The immortal once again vanished and reappeared a short distance away.
His fishlike mouth stretched into a crafty smile. "How about you answer a riddle? Guess if you can. Guess correctly, and win a prize! What does every man have plenty, gods have few, but you have none?"
Bai Qingyue's answer was another slash towards the immortal's neck, this time almost connecting with the pale, slimy skin.
The immortal gasped and leapt back, eyeing Bai Qingyue from afar. He made a great show of shaking his head tiredly, as though dealing with a petulant child.
"Very well, this old man understands. The irate fox does not wish to indulge in proper conversation," the immortal grumbled, narrowly avoiding another slash. "I came to see the Fox Lord, came to see what the fuss is about. I bethought myself a moment, recalling fond memories of times long past when a young fox once ventured to the Tree of Life's Banquet… was that chance encounter your fortune or misfortune, I wonder?"
"Patience," Bai Qingyue said suddenly, apparently without reason. The corners of his red lips curled up into a vicious smile. He thrust the blade into the hood of the immortal's cloak, successfully pinning him to a stall.
The disoriented seller, previously peddling his wares, shrieked and promptly fled his own stall.
In a short moment, the bustling marketplace became deserted as the rest of the sect's inhabitants scurried away.
"P-pardon?" The immortal's pebble eyes widened at the underhanded move, and the sudden speech left him even more puzzled.
"This 'irate fox' has answered your riddle. My prize will be your death," Bai Qingyue announced coolly, slowly approaching the pinned immortal. Despite still using Li Meirong's oval face as a disguise, his eyes changed colour and glowed bright yellow.
Bai Qingyue charged the immortal, ready to tear out his jugular, but the immortal snorted loudly.
"Wrong answer!" he declared, and vanished, leaving only his cloak behind.
Bai Qingyue bided his time, blade in hand.
He did not need to wait long. After a short period of silence, the immortal materialized once more. When he did so, he stood stark naked and scowling. Holding a hand to each side of his thick, protruding belly, the immortal's good mood appeared to have dampened.