Master said that grass from the south could barely survive in the north. Oranges grown south of the Huai River…
Master said that grass from the south could barely survive in the north. Oranges grown south of the Huai River are sweet oranges; those grown north become bitter trifoliate oranges. The dogwood that ran wild all over the mountains in the south would inevitably wither and shrink here, becoming "Dried Dogwood Berry" of the north. Though not as lush as in the south, it at least took root and breathed. Zhu Yu used it as medicine and surprisingly cured some mild colds, but she couldn't save herself. She had been poisoned by the Dawn-to-Dusk, though she knew not when. The poison had long festered like maggots clinging to bone. The moment Master frowned, Zhu Yu understood everything and had already made up her mind. She didn't tell Feng Yi. That salted fish scoundrel was ruthless; she feared it would spark great chaos. A flood was imminent, and one life was insignificant. After all, what River Deity wanted to protect was the lives of the entire city.
Only one who possesses the courage to defy heaven is worthy of becoming that singular "River Deity" for all ages. When the Huzi Dike broke and turbid waves filled the sky, Zhu Yu felt, for the first time, that she possessed the River Deity's courage. The Dawn-to-Dusk poison, which slowly eroded the bones with cold, could also be spurred to create a brief, dazzling "bloom." The Dragon Hall had never seen Leader Zhu like this, generous in speech and laughter, cleaving waves with her blade, commanding dragons to aid and relax, as if a god had descended. The sect's hauling song finally rang out once more under Zhu Yu's resolute cry:
"So many stars in the sky, oh hey, the moon is dim..."
"So many fish in the river, oh hey, the water is murky..."
"So many people on the earth, oh hey, the air is uneasy..."
"This Yellow River never dries, oh hey, the world is unjust..."
That was Zhu Yu's final song.