Xiao Shi was a person of the time of Duke Mu of Qin. He was good at playing the xiao and could summon peacocks and white cranes to his courtyard. Duke Mu had a daughter named Nongyu, who liked him; thus the duke married his daughter to Xiao Shi. Every day he taught Nongyu how to imitate the cry of a phoenix, and after several years, her playing sounded like that of a phoenix; thus a phoenix came and perched on their house. The duke built for them a Phoenix Terrace, where the couple stayed without descending for several years. One day, they both flew away with the phoenix. Therefore, the people of Qin built a shrine for Lady Feng in the Yong Palace, and from time to time there was only the sound of the xiao.

Xiao Shi stands at the head of a lineage of immortal musicians in the Lie Xian Zhuan. Wang Ziqiao played the sheng to imitate the phoenix’s cry and ascended Mount Songgao before riding a white crane into the sky — the parallel with Xiao Shi is unmistakable. Qin Gao played the guqin for two centuries before descending into the river on a red carp, while Kou Xian returned from death to play the five-stringed zither at the city gate. In each case, music is not entertainment but a frequency that bridges the mortal and immortal worlds.

Xiao Shi’s skillful playing on the xiao caused phoenixes and peacocks to dance in the courtyard. Princess Ying loved him, so she practiced imitating the sound of a phoenix. Thus they climbed onto the wings of the phoenix and soared together into the high heavens. The shrine for the lady holds memories, and her lingering music continues to echo clearly.

What makes Xiao Shi’s story unique among the immortal biographies is that his ascension was shared — he did not leave the world alone, but brought Nongyu with him. This resonates with the encounter of the Two Daughters of Jiang Fei, whose brief appearance by the Han River left behind only wonder and an empty hand — both stories reminding us that the divine, when it touches the human world, always leaves a trace: a shrine, a sound, a memory. Like Ren Guang, who soared from Huanti Mountain into the clouds, Xiao Shi’s departure was not an ending but a graduation — the final note of a song that began the moment he first raised the xiao to his lips.