Fragrance drifted faintly through the air. The moon window had opened halfway at some unknown time, and the green gauze curtains that fell to the floor swayed slowly in the breeze. The glow of yet another dawn—she’d lost count of which day it was—blanketed the entire quiet, secluded courtyard. Everything within the gauze canopy seemed strangely blurred.

Xuan Yi awoke from a brief slumber. Her right foot was held in someone’s palm, the soft fingertips caressing her toes and the sole of her foot in an intimate, ambiguous manner that made them tingle unbearably. She buried half her face in the loose, spacious robe that had spread open around her, and with lingering drowsiness, turned her head to look. Sure enough, that fellow Fucang had grabbed her foot and was playing with it.

The crow-blue robe on his body also hung loosely and askew, exposing a large expanse of his chest. His long hair was gathered over his shoulder, glowing golden-red in the hazy dawn light.

It was exceedingly rare to see this cool deity in such a languid state. All that porcelain-like icy refinement was completely gone now. His focused, infatuated expression made him look more like that mortal prince.

Xuan Yi gazed at him quietly, continuously recalling how he had been when they first met, his detestable manner back then. Her memory had always been quite good, yet now she couldn’t for the life of her remember those annoying past incidents. It was as if they had begun loving each other from the moment they first met at Hua Huang’s immortal island.

As if noticing she had awakened, Fucang scratched the soft sole of her foot several times with his fingertips, tickling her so much that she rolled back and forth on the bedding. Suddenly she propped up her left foot and lightly kicked his shoulder.

Fucang grasped the slender, round jade foot on his shoulder—it was as cold as ice. Even back when he was the Seventh Prince, he had long wanted to kiss such ice-smooth, jade-like skin. He lowered his head and kissed the delicate arch of her foot. It must have tickled terribly, for the Dragon Princess laughed with a soft “chi” sound, her toes playfully tapping his nose.

He made as if to bite her toes. She hastily drew back her foot but ultimately couldn’t escape—her big toe was gently nipped by his teeth.

The dainty jade foot in his palm suddenly grew hot. Fucang’s heart stirred. He lowered his head to look at her. The Dragon Princess had half her face buried in her clothes, a half-smiling expression on her jade-porcelain cheeks. She was naturally born with a pure yet enchanting beauty, but in the past she had mostly maintained her princess airs, acting more like a willful child. This kind of seductive charm was truly rare to see.

The dawn light was bright and beautiful. Her exposed lower leg was like a section of luminous jade. Fucang grasped her calf and gradually pulled her toward himself. Dragons were indulgent by nature, and he absolutely loved this indulgence of hers. The soft, ice-smooth, jade-like body once again became hot beneath his lips and teeth. He kissed his way down from her knee, every inch meticulously explored, unable to let go.

After returning from the Sea of Parting Regret, they had been wildly indulging for who knows how many days. There were still many important matters to attend to—they shouldn’t continue like this—yet for now he was unwilling to think about those important matters. Let him be indulgent. He had long since sunk to the very bottom and would never resurface in this lifetime.

In the gorgeous cloud-light, the Dragon Princess’s breathing grew urgent and seductive. Fucang leaned over her, using his fingers to replace his lips and tongue from earlier, densely teasing her. The loose robe on her body couldn’t conceal anything at all. Her jet-black long hair lay in disarray across skin that had turned pink, stuck to it by the sweat on the surface, strand after strand.

She was blooming beautifully for him, delicate and alluring.

Fucang pressed his forehead against hers, their heavy breathing mingling together. Her arms wrapped around his neck again as she called out enticingly, “Fucang-shixiong.” He replaced his fingers with his body to feel her, his wet fingers grasping her knee before moving down to hold her foot, bringing it to his lips to kiss and gently bite.

This nearly frenzied wantonness and unrestrained passion seemed as if it could last until the end of their lives.

The green gauze began swaying again, and then a pair of slender hands reached out from within, fingers gripping the edge of the bed, clutching tightly at the bedding as if futilely trying to escape from there. Long hands pursued from within the green gauze, catching those struggling fingers, the fingertips stroking the tender skin between her fingers one caress at a time.

The last trace of crimson glow was finally swallowed by the night. Cold autumn rain once again pervaded the courtyard, wetting the moon window. After an unknown amount of time had passed, Xuan Yi awoke once more from a brief slumber. Before her eyes, the luminous pearl’s deep blue radiance was gentle and delicate. Her body was immersed in pool water brimming with pure spiritual energy, and Fucang was behind her washing her long hair.

Still drowsy, she blinked, too languid to even want to move. The Huaxu Clan had an affinity with the metal and wood elements. Aside from the Qing Di Palace at the golden summit, almost all the courtyards and buildings were made of wood. Even the bathing pools were hollowed out from enormous tree trunks. The water in the pool was pale jade-green in color, steam rising from it.

“Continue sleeping,” Fucang said, gathering all her freshly washed long hair and pinning it up with his own hairpin. “Tomorrow I’ll send you back to Zhongshan.”

He had kept the Dragon Princess confined in the courtyard for several days now—behavior that naturally completely violated the Huaxu Clan’s codes of propriety. However, at this moment he didn’t seem to have the slightest sense of guilt about having a sudden awakening of conscience. Presumably he was beyond saving in the future as well.

Xuan Yi turned her head and gently blew a breath at his face, laughing softly. “I don’t want you accompanying me to Zhongshan at all.”

She always used this coquettish tone to say unpleasant things. As punishment, Fucang gave her waist a light pinch. She practically dodged with trembling flowers and fluttering branches, twisting like a snake. His palm grasped her chin and shook it, while he said softly, “You were supposed to marry me anyway.”

At Hua Huang’s immortal island that time, if she hadn’t engaged in those malicious, outlandish words and behavior, perhaps by now they would have already arranged a marriage contract.

Given his understanding of her wicked nature, next she would probably smugly say something worthy of his reprimand. Who would have thought that she would actually raise her head and stare at him, her gaze clear and bright. Fucang slowly wiped away a water droplet on her eyebrow, smiled faintly, and then with a single breath blew open the moon window. Outside the window, the clouds had dispersed and the rain had stopped. Behind the dripping moisture, the huge silver moon was just settling at the zenith.

Xuan Yi swam to the window and held onto the window frame, gazing out for quite a while. Sure enough, the moonlit scenery here was still the most beautiful to behold.

Fucang untied his long hair and had just washed half of it when he suddenly realized that the turbid energy from the various injuries, large and small, all over his body had actually been completely purged. The pain from the wounds was due to the steaming moisture. He stared at the deepest wound on his abdomen for a long time, then looked toward Xuan Yi by the window. She was still lost in gazing at the moon.

He released his Spring Recovery technique to heal the injuries, then moved closer, turned her around to face him, cupped her face in both hands, and stared at her carefully. She looked somewhat startled, her eyelashes lifting. Her distinct black-and-white eyes calmly and peacefully met his gaze. “What’s wrong?”

Fucang narrowed his eyes and after a moment of silence said in a low voice, “If again…” If she concealed things from him again, he truly would lock her completely inside Chunjun and never let her out again.

But looking at her clear gaze, he suddenly stopped. He probably had truly been tormented into fear by her.

Xuan Yi scooped up water from the pool and washed the pearl earring on his neck, then turned her head to look at the silver moon outside the window again, speaking with a sigh-like tone, “If I become Wangshu in the future, I’ll have to drive the chariot carrying the moon around like this all night, every night.”

It sounded utterly uninteresting.

Having a leisurely divine position yet still being picky about it—Fucang couldn’t help but laugh. He rested against the window frame and gazed together with her at this scenery they’d looked at countless times before. In the past, he had never felt it was beautiful or not beautiful, yet now he actually felt grateful that from the Qing Di Palace one could see such an expansive moonlit view.

If she became Wangshu Shennu, the moonlit scenery here would finally become meaningful.

“The Sea of Parting Regret is resolved anyway, all thanks to us. The matter of exterminating the demon clan—let those emperors and whatnot who carelessly lost things worry about it.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “Fucang-shixiong, should we slack off a bit? Let’s go play somewhere else.”

Fucang picked away several wet strands of long hair stuck to her face, extended his arm to embrace her, and stroked the fine white nape of her neck like petting a cat, his voice gentle. “All right.”

But before that, even setting aside Shao Yi’s matter, they should at least return to Zhongshan to check on the situation, shouldn’t they? For the sake of her father and brother, she could even cast aside her own life, so why was she completely unhurried about returning to see them afterward? Originally he had thought that as soon as she mentioned going back even once, he would immediately send her back to Zhongshan. Yet she never said it again. Or did they have some special Zhuyin Clan technique for private communication?

The quick-witted Dragon Princess seemed to perceive his confusion. She waved her right arm, which was like white jade, looking smug and proud. “I contacted Qing Yan long ago using the Golden Seal divine official technique.”

With that “bet you didn’t know” expression of hers, Fucang couldn’t help but flick her forehead, then immediately lowered his head to kiss that forehead, once again intimately nuzzling her. He had already gotten a taste and could no longer be satisfied.

The huge silver moon slid down inch by inch along the contours of Mount Tai. The eastern sky began to brighten. Wangshu Shennu returned from driving the moon, while Xihe Shennu had not yet arrived with the sun. In this brief interval, the horizon displayed a pale ink-wash mist-like hue, seemingly warm yet cold.

The door wasn’t closed. The green gauze was blown wide open by the wind. Fucang slept deeply, his long hair spread across the pillow, his robe loosely draped over his arms.

A hand touched his face, then with a turn of the wrist, a mass of Zhuyin White Snow even blacker than the night itself fell into the palm.

The Chunjun sword on the wooden rack emitted a low humming sound. Xuan Yi paid it no mind, only tossing and catching that lump of black snow in her hand repeatedly. In the past she had quite disliked the glaring white color, but now she suddenly felt that white snow looked much better after all.