The ten-li plum forest outside the War God’s mansion was specially planted by Mo Xi for his wife San Sheng. On this fine day, San Sheng had set up a writing desk in the courtyard, saying she wanted to paint plum blossoms, and forced Mo Xi to grind ink for her.
San Sheng had no talent for painting, always ending up as ink-stained as her rice paper. Following the principle that she shouldn’t look disheveled alone, she preferred to make Mo Xi equally messy. Thus, whenever San Sheng wanted to paint, the entire Chang Sheng Tian would be placed under martial law to prevent anyone from witnessing the… unseemly state of the Divine Lord and his wife.
Unexpectedly today, the guards on duty had disappeared somewhere to slack off, and no one stopped Si Ming as she strolled through the ten-li plum forest and entered the courtyard.
At that moment, San Sheng was caught up in her painting. She put down her brush, her hands covered in cinnabar, and “pat!” — slapped her palm onto the rice paper. She proudly shook her head at Mo Xi: “Look, isn’t this plum blossom beautifully red?”
Mo Xi calmly nodded in praise: “Very beautiful.”
From far away, Si Ming had already spotted that horrifying bloody handprint. Her mouth twitched as she honestly said: “It looks like a vengeful ghost claiming a soul.”
Mo Xi and San Sheng looked toward the voice. Seeing Si Ming, Mo Xi’s expression darkened. He turned and shouted: “Chi Yu!” A man in crimson clothing suddenly appeared in the courtyard. Mo Xi asked, “Who was on duty today?” His face was streaked black and red, looking quite comical, but the person kneeling to answer didn’t dare laugh at all.
While Mo Xi was disciplining his subordinate, San Sheng, with a face similarly mottled red and black, greeted Si Ming without the slightest embarrassment: “Oh, so you’ve awakened.”
“I woke up yesterday,” Si Ming said, ignoring the officer being severely reprimanded because of her. In her view, she had entered unintentionally, and it was indeed their fault that no one had announced her—they deserved punishment. Her gaze fell on San Sheng’s “plum blossom” and she shook her head: “Tsk tsk, I must have misjudged earlier. This painting is horrifying, unbearable to look at.”
San Sheng didn’t mind, only quietly wiping the cinnabar from her hands onto Si Ming’s cotton-white clothes: “Long time no see, you’re still so sharp-tongued.”
Si Ming looked at the bright red marks on her clothes, narrowing her eyes meaningfully: “Young Lady San Sheng is still so quick to take revenge.”
“You’re too kind.”
“You’re too modest.”
Their gazes clashed in the air for a moment before San Sheng suddenly waved her hand: “I’m a magnanimous person, I won’t quibble with you. However, since you say my painting isn’t good, you should show your true skill and let me see. Convince me with ability.”
Si Ming curved her lips in a smile and unhesitatingly took up the brush, beginning to modify San Sheng’s unbearable painting. Si Ming’s painting skills were considered excellent even in the celestial realm. With just two or three strokes of ink, the entire painting’s spirit immediately changed.
San Sheng raised an eyebrow and pouted: “Hmm, passable.”
Si Ming ignored her and continued painting. Before long, the picture had completely transformed. Every chaotic line came alive under her hand, becoming wild grass, rugged stones, and forest trees. It seemed she already had a complete painting in her mind, just waiting to be traced onto paper.
San Sheng watched as a specific scene gradually emerged in the painting: in a wilderness beneath a giant tree, the wind stirring the treetops, the bright red handprint on the wild grass slowly diffused with clear water, becoming a pool of blood that stood out shockingly against the whole scene. She suddenly remembered that fate book inscribed with “Heaven and Earth, Dragon’s Return,” and asked: “Si Ming, now that you’re awake, do you remember Chang—”
“San Sheng.” Mo Xi, who was about to enter the hall, suddenly called out. “Come inside and clean your face first.”
Si Ming was concentrating on painting and didn’t pursue what San Sheng had meant to say. San Sheng looked at her serious expression, then pressed her lips together and followed Mo Xi inside.
After painting for who knows how long, Si Ming finally put down her brush. She stared at her painting for a while, suddenly feeling that the scene was familiar enough to make her heart ache unbearably. Just then, San Sheng and Mo Xi pushed open the door and came out again, both with unpleasant expressions, as if they had just argued inside.
San Sheng remained silent, only staring fixedly at Si Ming’s completed painting, her expression showing some indignation and sorrow. Mo Xi said: “Are you here to take over the Star Lord of Fate’s duties from San Sheng?”
Not wanting to inquire into the couple’s affairs, Si Ming just nodded: “Also to express my thanks. The maid’s San Sheng sent kept my courtyard very well maintained. I don’t have anything good to give you, but I happened to paint this today—if you don’t mind, please keep it.”
“I don’t want it,” San Sheng said. “This is something you made for yourself. No one has the right to possess it.”
Si Ming was slightly startled, but then heard Mo Xi say deeply: “San Sheng.”
San Sheng replied irritably: “I can understand words, I’m not deaf!” Then to Si Ming: “Come with me. I’ll return all those fate books to you. Being the Star Lord of Fate is truly inhuman work—torturing yourself and others.”
Si Ming nodded in agreement: “This is life’s profound truth—pain and pleasure intertwined.”
The Star Lord of Fate’s duties were both numerous and complex. It wasn’t until the stars filled the sky that the last batch of books was sent to Qin Tian Palace by Chang Sheng Tian’s guards. Si Ming bid farewell to San Sheng. Just as she reached the doorway, she looked back to see Mo Xi pulling San Sheng aside to talk, but San Sheng shook off his hand and said angrily: “Go away! Tonight I’m going to sleep with romance novels that have happy endings.”
Mo Xi sighed helplessly: “San Sheng, you’re just displacing your anger.”
San Sheng raised an eyebrow: “Yes, I am displacing my anger.” With that, she mercilessly shut Mo Xi outside. The mighty War God could only stand at the door, shaking his head and sighing: “San Sheng, the night is cold.”
Not wanting to hear more, Si Ming turned and left, strolling into the ten-li plum forest. She thought some people are blessed with happiness even in their arguments, pampered even in their tantrums. She probably didn’t have such good fortune anymore.
A cool wind suddenly rose, truly cold as Mo Xi had said. The plum forest’s fragrance seemed even more alluring now. Si Ming gazed at the stars that appeared so close, walking aimlessly until she came to her senses and found herself surrounded by identical red plum blossoms. She froze, finally realizing she was lost.
Si Ming pondered for a moment, thinking that since she had nothing else to do, and returning to Qin Tian Palace meant being alone anyway, she might as well find a clean spot here to sleep fully clothed—it would be a different kind of experience.
“Using heaven as my blanket and earth as my dwelling, I, Si Ming, shall be free and unrestrained for once.” Si Ming raised her eyebrows with a smile, lying down casually. “This spot will do nicely. I, Divine Lord, hereby requisition it.”
Si Ming arranged herself spread-eagled, staring blankly at the starry sky as the smile gradually faded from her lips. Si Ming had always been accustomed to being alone. Before, she hadn’t felt anything wrong with solitude, but now she found even this bit of loneliness unbearable…
Her heart felt like it had a hole, gaping wide when no one was around, letting the cold wind rush in freely.
Terrifyingly empty.
She rolled over, but her hand touched something strange. She felt it carelessly and discovered it was shaped like a book.
How could there be a book in such a place? Given its size, it might be a fate book—had San Sheng accidentally misplaced one?
Si Ming sat up, curiously digging the book out from under layers of fallen plum blossoms. She patted away the accumulated dust on the cover and, looking by starlight, saw that the blue cover bore no characters at all. Her curiosity growing stronger, she slowly opened to the title page—
Heaven and Earth, Dragon’s Return.
Seeing these four large characters, Si Ming was somewhat dazed. This was her handwriting, but why couldn’t she remember at all when she had written these words? The strokes were forceful, penetrating the paper, as if written with great longing and unwavering determination, very different from her usual state of mind when writing fate books.
When had she written this, why had she written it… and for whom?
Si Ming, cradling these questions, slowly turned past the title page and began reading that desolate lifetime by the light of countless stars.
Mo Xi stood outside the door for the time it took to burn an incense stick before San Sheng’s heart softened and she came to open it, though she still blocked the entrance. Mo Xi didn’t say much, only reaching out his hand: “Feel this—it’s ice cold.”
San Sheng honestly grabbed Mo Xi’s hand to feel, and indeed it was very cold. She felt annoyed and scolded: “Why didn’t you find a warmer place to stand?”
Mo Xi just smiled: “Otherwise how would you let me in?”
San Sheng held his hand in her palms, leading him inside to sit down. Still somewhat unhappy, she held Mo Xi’s hand for a while before suddenly asking: “Mo Xi, what would you do if one day I suddenly forgot you?”
“Nonsense,” Mo Xi replied without thinking. “Stop dwelling on Si Ming and that divine dragon Chang Yuan’s matter. Today the Celestial Emperor specially sent word to me, threatening and enticing—”
“Currently, we’re the only ones in the celestial realm who know a bit about the inside story. If you weren’t the War God, we’d probably have been silenced already.” San Sheng spat disgustedly: “Shameless leader!”
Mo Xi shook his head: “The Celestial Emperor must have his reasons for taking Si Ming’s memories. After all, Si Ming is no longer just a mortal. If we’re being strict about it, she grew up with the Celestial Emperor from childhood, and her divine power isn’t much different from his. The greater the power, the greater the responsibility, and naturally the greater the trouble one can cause. If she were to remember something then and go to the Wan Tian Void to rescue that divine dragon, violating celestial law—that would truly harm her.”
“But… but if one day you were imprisoned for saving me, and I forgot you afterward when I finally remembered, I would regret it so much I’d want to squeeze myself to death!”
“If that day comes, then don’t remember me,” Mo Xi said. “At that time, my greatest wish would surely be for you to live well. Since you’re already living well, there’s no need to remember me and only add to your grief. Chang Yuan… probably thought the same way. That’s why he was so willing to return to the Wan Tian Void.”
“Is Si Ming living well now?” San Sheng frowned. “Look at the painting she made today…”
“San Sheng, what does it mean to live well?”
San Sheng was stunned by the question. What counts as living well? Is it risking one’s life to save one’s beloved, or calmly forgetting each other in this vast world? Self-imprisonment or self-exile?
Unable to answer this question which varies from person to person, San Sheng could only say weakly: “She just wanted to be with him…” At the end of her words, some sad memory must have been stirred, for San Sheng choked and a tear fell.
The teardrop landed on Mo Xi’s hand, and his whole body stiffened, instantly dazed.
Before he could react, San Sheng had already stopped crying and said angrily: “Why don’t you know to hug me and say some comforting words!”
Mo Xi rubbed his head, feeling quite troubled: “Lately… your emotions have become increasingly unpredictable.”
“Is that so?” San Sheng sniffled, unhesitatingly wiping her nose on Mo Xi’s sleeve. “I think it might be because I’m pregnant.”
“Mm.” Mo Xi nodded in agreement, and then suddenly his whole body jerked again as he sharply looked up at San Sheng. “What did you just say?”
“Pregnant, didn’t I tell you before?”
“…”
“Ah, so I forgot to mention it.” San Sheng patted her belly. “I’m going to have a child, though I don’t know if it will be a stone or a human…”