Dense white clouds rushed past, brushing against the edges of their clothes. Below them, the Nine-Headed Lion was racing through the sky.
Where were they going? Xuan Yi wasn’t particularly concerned about this. Actually, anywhere was fine. Recently she seemed unable to stay quietly in the Purple Manor. After a long time, she would feel utterly bored.
Across from her, Fucang sat upright and proper, his face as dark as water and completely silent. She paid no attention to this whatsoever, lowering her head to look at the booklet the teacher had given while taking out the remaining half bag of candied plums, eating them with great pleasure.
After an unknown amount of time, the silent sea of clouds suddenly became filled with endless streams of mounts and palanquins coming and going, auspicious light radiating everywhere. Even when Xuan Yi used her hand to shield herself, she was still dazzled to the point where she could no longer read. She covered her face with her sleeve and asked: “What place is this?”
Fucang signaled the Nine-Headed Lion to descend below the clouds, saying at the same time: “By the Three Lives Stone is Ziyuan Weaver’s Manor. She was once the teacher’s disciple. There’s some hope if we ask her to help make the azalea blood-red feather satin from the coursework list.”
The white paper Baize Dijun had left behind had been flipped over and examined by him countless times. Those things that naturally required going to the lower realm to slay demons to obtain were obviously out of the question. There were also some that one could tell at a glance were absolutely impossible to get, such as the dark pearl from Tian Di’s jade crown. Who knew what the teacher was thinking when he wrote that down.
The remaining items were difficult to the extreme, yet also simple to the extreme—it all came down to luck. For example, this azalea blood-red feather satin. If Weaver Ziyuan was willing to make it, the matter would be accomplished.
The Three Lives Stone was located on the shore of the Spirit River in the Western Wasteland. After the Sea of Leaving Hatred became a forbidden place, this location became the only lovers’ paradise. The shore was filled with countless divine immortal lovebirds. The Spirit River shore was shrouded in misty vapors, the thin mist licking at the hems of the deities’ robes like gauze. Everything was hazy and indistinct, even the sun overhead appeared much gentler.
Xuan Yi stopped beneath the Three Lives Stone, tilting her head back to gaze up at this most famous stone in the divine realm. It was nothing more than a slightly larger rock with interwoven blue and red colors. She reached out to touch it—rough and cold, with no sign of anything miraculous about it.
By the Three Lives Stone, love is sealed for eternity. Mother had said that back then, she and Father had made their vows to grow old together beneath the Three Lives Stone. But alas, feelings change easily, and vows ultimately come to nothing. The passionate Cuihe Nushen perished filled with resentment. This stone was nothing but a joke.
“Come here.” Fucang walked forward several steps. Not seeing her follow, he couldn’t help but stop.
Mist filled the Spirit River shore. Xuan Yi parted the water vapor and followed behind him. At this time the sun was shining high, and much of the ethereal mist over the Spirit River had dispersed. The distant mountains and waters seemed painted with light ink, appearing and disappearing amidst the clouds and water. She greedily took in the fresh scenery, walking and stopping intermittently. Fucang had no choice but to once again grip the armrest of the rattan chair in his hand.
“Look more when we come out later.” As he spoke, he slowed his pace.
Who knew she would sigh: “The Spirit River shore and Three Lives Stone have such resounding fame, but they don’t seem particularly beautiful. How did this become a lovers’ paradise?”
Fucang gripped the rattan chair’s armrest and slowly walked forward: “The current Tian Di and Empress made their vows of love by this Three Lives Stone. The Emperor and Empress have deep affection for each other. Here, sentiment outweighs scenery.”
Xuan Yi said flatly: “This place is not good. Don’t make vows of love here.”
Fucang’s footsteps suddenly stopped. He originally hadn’t given it any thought at all, but after she said this, he couldn’t help but start thinking about many things. For a moment he felt awkward, for a moment puzzled, and for a moment he even felt somewhat joyful.
“Why did you stop walking?” Xuan Yi was bewildered.
He immediately started walking again, saying flatly: “Is that so? I think it’s fine.”
Xuan Yi propped her chin, lost in thought: “Anyway, I don’t like it.”
Fucang slightly narrowed his eyes. The sunlight filling the sky seemed to shine directly into his heart, flowing along his blood, making the tips of his ears burn hot. A question suddenly arose in his heart—somewhat absurd and somewhat laughable, impossible to ask aloud. His innate cautiousness also meant he wouldn’t easily speak it. He silently quickened his pace forward. This road suddenly seemed so long.
Crossing through the mist of the Spirit River shore, Ziyuan Weaver’s Manor was situated in the gap between two mountains on the Spirit River shore. Among all the current weavers, only she had the oldest qualifications and the finest craftsmanship. When an imperial daughter married in the past, her wedding dress was personally made by her, taking a full three years to sew. The imperial daughter treasured it immensely and to this day still often took out the wedding dress to admire and praise it.
Knocking on the gate of the Weaver’s Manor, both young celestial deities were momentarily stunned. Inside the manor, paths crisscrossed in all directions, with purple sun flowers planted along the roadsides. At first glance, it bore some resemblance to Mingxing Hall. Two exquisite little girl attendants led them to a courtyard, then ran off giggling. This courtyard… looked quite similar to the Fangxin Courtyard where their teacher lived.
Xuan Yi was curiously looking around when suddenly the courtyard gate was opened. Weaver Ziyuan quickly walked out, a smile on her refined face, but her words were quite impolite: “The two celestial deities have come at an inopportune time today. I have no time to receive guests. Please go to the front courtyard for a cup of tea, and after drinking, please return.”
Fucang cupped his hands in salute, saying: “This humble one is Fucang of the Huaxu Clan. This is Xuan Yi of the Zhuyin Clan. Today we have come on the orders of our teacher Baize Dijun to…”
Before he had finished speaking, Weaver Ziyuan suddenly changed her tone, becoming incomparably gentle: “So you are the teacher’s newly accepted disciples. Since we are fellow students, quickly come in.”
…Her attitude changed so fast! Xuan Yi silently followed her floating into the courtyard, only hearing Weaver Ziyuan’s gentle voice unable to suppress her excitement, flowing like water as she said: “I know you two are disciples he newly accepted a year ago. These years I’ve been busy weaving the Map of the Four Wilds and Eight Wastelands for Xiwang Mu and haven’t had time to visit the teacher. How is the teacher now? With the Sea of Leaving Hatred fallen, he must be terribly busy, right? Have you been taking good care of him? He must have gotten thinner, perhaps he can’t even sleep. Ah, when I think of it, my heart aches!”
Upon entering the main room, they were immediately faced with a huge embroidered portrait of a deity. The embroidery depicted their all-too-familiar Baize Dijun with his powdered jade features like a child, holding a golden orange in his hand, his smile amiable, his features lively and animated. Xuan Yi and Fucang were momentarily stunned.
Weaver Ziyuan’s face flushed as she asked softly: “Is the teacher still this adorable?”
Xuan Yi exhaled and nodded seriously: “Yes, he’s become even more adorable.”
She finally understood the reason for this weaver’s drastically different attitudes. Baize Dijun’s age couldn’t be any older, yet he appeared to have the countenance of a six-year-old mortal child, causing this Weaver Ziyuan to probably be filled with… strange feelings toward him.
“I often want to return to Mingxing Hall to visit him, but I’m truly too busy. I only hope the teacher won’t blame me.” Weaver Ziyuan personally poured two cups of tea and offered them, saying at the same time: “What task has brought Junior Brother and Junior Sister here today on the teacher’s orders? If it’s within my capabilities, I will certainly do my utmost.”
Fucang explained their purpose. Weaver Ziyuan showed an expression of difficulty: “The azalea blood-red feather satin requires the feathers of the Jiguang beast. I don’t have any in my manor. This item is rare. Now only the Heavenly Palace stables still raise a few Jiguang beasts. Even the imperial daughter’s wedding dress last time didn’t use Jiguang feathers.”
Well then, it looked like there was no hope. Xuan Yi drank half a cup of tea and was just preparing to say they should leave when suddenly, unexpectedly, Fucang stood up and said in a low voice: “Please wait a moment, Weaver.”
With that, he walked outside. Xuan Yi chased after him and grabbed his sleeve: “Where are you going?”
Fucang said: “Stay here. I’ll be back soon.”
How could Xuan Yi be willing to let go? Her eyes shining, she said in a small voice: “Going to steal Jiguang feathers? I want to go too.”
…This dragon princess who feared nothing would go wrong in the world. He pried her hand off, his brow furrowing: “I told you not to hold me back.”
As a result, her entire body lunged forward, firmly hugging his arm: “I want to go too.”
Fucang took a deep breath. The dragon princess had suddenly changed from a hedgehog into sticky taffy that was impervious to both hard and soft approaches, clinging to him with absolutely no reason. The speed of her transformation left him completely unable to keep up with her pace. He frowned and looked down at her. Her face was pressed against his sleeve, two bright black eyes staring at him without blinking, filled with one sentence: I want to go too.
Fucang pushed one hand against her chin, forcibly pushing her away in a not particularly elegant posture. Suddenly he touched his toes to the ground and abruptly disappeared from the Weaver’s Manor, leaving only his lingering voice: “Stay here!”
Xuan Yi was furious. However, with her legs not working properly, even if she wanted to chase him, she couldn’t catch up. She could only stand there stunned.
Weaver Ziyuan smiled and linked arms with her, doing nothing but asking about Baize Dijun’s recent situation, asking all sorts of trivial questions like how much he had eaten, whether he was sleeping well, whether he was changing his clothes on time. Xuan Yi felt her brain was about to boil and couldn’t help reminding her: “Weaver, the teacher is very old.”
From birth until now, Baize Dijun only aged one year in appearance every five hundred thousand years. He looked like a small child, but in reality was much older than even Tian Di.
Weaver Ziyuan covered her face: “I know, but he looks so young.”
Xuan Yi exhaled and smiled at her politely. She simply took out from her sleeve the white paper the teacher had distributed, pretending to lower her head and look at it. Unexpectedly, Weaver Ziyuan beside her couldn’t move when she saw Baize Dijun’s handwriting.
“The teacher’s characters are still so round and adorable.” Her face reddened again.
Xuan Yi just pretended not to hear. Suddenly she heard her laugh again: “Weaving the azalea blood-red feather satin requires seven days. The teacher’s coursework was to have you bring back two items from this list, right? When that young celestial deity returns, you might as well go find other things first—mm, this tail fur from the ninth princess of the Celestial Fox Clan would be good.”
“But she definitely wouldn’t be willing, right?” Xuan Yi felt this matter was quite difficult. If she were that ninth princess, she also wouldn’t be happy to casually pluck out her own tail fur and give it away.
Weaver Ziyuan said: “No matter. The Celestial Fox Clan, whether male or female, all admire beauty. With that young celestial deity you came with, given his appearance, forget just asking for tail fur—giving him an entire tail wouldn’t be difficult.”
Xuan Yi couldn’t help but laugh.
Originally she thought that with Fucang’s departure, he could return within an hour. Who knew that by the time the setting sun shone westward, he still hadn’t even shown a shadow. Weaver Ziyuan was busy weaving the Map of the Four Wilds and Eight Wastelands. Occasionally she came out to pour some hot tea. Seeing Xuan Yi sitting blankly by the door in a daze, she said: “Outside is the Three Lives Stone. Rather than waiting idly, you might as well go out and look at the scenery.”
After saying this several times and seeing that she seemed not to hear, Weaver Ziyuan stopped speaking and continued burying her head in weaving the map.
The sky was about to darken. The shadows of the purple sun flowers in the courtyard were stretched thin and long. Xuan Yi lightly tapped the floor tiles below with her toe. Her foot’s shadow was also stretched long. Everything around was so quiet that she suddenly felt as if she had returned to Zhongshan. Back then she had also waited every day at the mountain gate like this for Qing Yan to return.
The shadow gradually faded. The sunset was covered by the blue night curtain. Xuan Yi turned her wrist and produced a ball of white snow. But she didn’t know what to shape it into, only holding the snow in her hand and slowly kneading it.
The faint shadow at her feet was suddenly covered by another shadow. Xuan Yi raised her head. The white-robed celestial deity who had been gone for so long had returned soundlessly, not a single strand of hair out of place.
Fucang’s dark eyes looked at her. After a moment, he asked in a low voice: “Why didn’t you go inside?”
The ball of snow fell to the ground. Xuan Yi grabbed his sleeve in one motion, tilting her head back: “You’re back.”
Fucang felt like laughing, but that burning pain in his chest appeared again, more painful each time. He nodded, grasped the armrest of the rattan chair to pull her inside the room. She had already started grabbing at his sleeve and looking all around, asking repeatedly: “Did you steal them?”
Weaver Ziyuan ran out from the inner room, her eyes widening as she watched Fucang draw from his breast a handful of beautiful Jiguang feathers. The feathers were half red and half white, covered with tiny dewdrop-like crystals of clear energy. The cut edges were fresh and neat.
“I trouble Weaver Ziyuan.” He handed over the Jiguang feathers.