The clear sunlight from the Nine Heavens passed through the latticed window and fell on the fire-red jewel between Shao Yi’s brows. He opened his eyes from sleep, stared at the colorful gems on the palace ceiling for a while, then blew open the window with one breath. The cold wind of winter dispersed the ambiguous sweet fragrance inside the hall.

Soft jade and warm fragrance still lingered in his arms. He liked being embraced closely by such softness.

He pinched her body with his hand—a touch that pleased him. What was her name? He had already forgotten. What did she look like? He’d have to look later to remember.

But none of that mattered. Free and indulgent, endless novelty and pleasure—after rebirth through nirvana, nothing had changed.

A finger slowly teased along the curve of his chin up to his lips. The goddess in his arms had awakened. He held her with his other hand, his palm slipping into her loose collar, grasping the full softness, lightly flicking and slowly kneading.

When the clamor ceased, it was nearly noon. Shao Yi changed into his everyday loose robe and was about to leave this small side palace filled with sweet fragrance when the goddess whose name he couldn’t remember spoke lazily behind him: “Dijun, when you have another spiritual dream descent, come find me. This is something I’m willing to do. Rather than bearing descendants for some random chaotic Shenjun, I might as well do it for you. Zhongshan Dijun wouldn’t be bad either.”

The two words “willing to” were excellent. Nothing in the world, no matter how precious, could compare to those two words “willing to.”

Shao Yi untangled the messy braids wound with golden thread and smiled faintly: “Well said. I’m almost starting to like you.”

Leaving the side palace, with a flutter of his long sleeves, he slowly glided down from the high platform, then soared up gracefully and lightly stopped on the red jade platform of the tower palace. Divine officials and attending female immortals, several times more numerous than before, immediately bowed in salute. The Qingyang Clan that had declined under his hands had gradually become glorious again under his hands these years. What was regrettable was that the weak previous generation’s Qingyang Dijun had perished too early. If he could have held on until now, he had methods to restore him to normal.

“Is Hualin still sleeping?” Shao Yi gently lifted the crystal curtain, lowering his voice to inquire.

The attending female immortal replied respectfully: “In answer to Dijun, the princess turned over several times just now. She should be waking soon.”

He then turned to go the other way: “Bring the ceremonial robes. I need to bathe.”

Having washed away the frivolous rouge fragrance and wine smell from his body, Shao Yi changed into neat ceremonial robes. The female immortals deftly helped him tie up his braids, fastened the agate phoenix, and just as they suspended the divine soul jewel on his forehead, another female immortal came to report: “Dijun, the princess has awakened.”

Shao Yi walked quickly to the bedchamber of the tower palace. Within the layers of gauze curtains, a small figure was sitting in a daze. Upon seeing him, she laughed delightfully and stretched out her two chubby little hands: “Father, hold me.”

He smiled and picked up his daughter in one swoop, his fingertips gently smoothing her soft and messy hair. Her round chubby face was very adorable, so he pinched it, his voice becoming tender: “Does Hualin want Father to teach you characters today too?”

“Yes.” Little Hualin practically wanted to climb onto his face, clinging tightly to his head and covering his face with drool.

Shao Yi carried her out from the gauze curtains: “Then let’s eat first, then go with Father to Chenfang Garden to see your brother, and finally we’ll learn characters. Alright?”

She started playing with the agate phoenix on his braid again and said “alright” in a crisp voice.

He held Hualin tight and leaped down from the red jade platform. Her joyful and happy laughter scattered like silver bells throughout the entire vast Qiongsang City.

Two hundred and seventy thousand years old after rebirth through nirvana, a spiritual dream descended. He found a goddess willing to bear his child and gave birth to Hualin. The Qingyang Clan thus gained a princess, who had just turned one thousand five hundred years old this year.

Also, due to the calamity affecting the upper and lower realms, the divine clans dwindled, and spiritual dreams came early and frequently. A hundred years ago, another goddess bore him a son. Because he had not yet taken human form, there hadn’t been time to hold a ceremony and give him a name.

The little Phoenix Lord who didn’t have a name yet was placed in Chenfang Garden, which was filled with ten-thousand-year fire rocks and blazingly hot. Just like when he was born, the softest cloud gauze wrapped around his slender phoenix body. He would sleep for a full two hundred years before he could wake.

Upon seeing her brother, Hualin wanted to touch his luxuriant feathers with her hands. The promise to learn characters was probably long forgotten. Qingyang Dijun Shao Yi, who had vigorous energy and could focus on two things at once, handled official business and correspondence while constantly keeping watch on his children’s movements, and also circled all the characters he would teach today.

Before long, Hualin toddled over to the desk again. Though young, she inherited the same focus as him and learned characters extremely fast—she was just worse at writing them. Shao Yi couldn’t help but smile watching her scribble like ghostly talismans on the paper when he suddenly heard her ask in a coquettish voice: “Father, where is Mother?”

Well, this question…

Shao Yi rested his chin on his hand and stroked her little head, speaking slowly: “Hualin, in this world, whether mortals or divine clans, of course everyone has a mother. But not everyone can see their own mother. For instance, you only have Father. There are also some opposite cases—those who can’t see their own father. Do you think it’s better to have a father or a mother?”

The naive little Hualin, only one thousand five hundred years old, was confused by his words. Her clear black and white eyes gazed at him tearfully: “I want Father.”

Shao Yi carefully wiped away the tears that had fallen for her, saying gently: “I want Hualin too. But in the future, it’s best not to look for a Shenjun like Father.”

“Why?” She had quite a few questions lately, having reached the age of being curious about everything.

Shao Yi held her hand and helped her write the characters properly: “If you meet a Shenjun you like, you’ll always want to be with him. If he betrays you, even if I kill him for you, you’ll still be heartbroken. Rather than that, it’s better to avoid it from the start. Mm, I hope you can enjoy mutual affection, but if you don’t have that luck, being a romantic goddess who likes no one would also make Father happy.”

Obviously she didn’t understand what he was saying at all. She stared at him in complete bewilderment, then circled back to the question: “Why don’t I have a mother?”

Even the clever and sharp-witted Dijun Shao Yi finally felt somewhat helpless facing his daughter’s persistent questions. He sighed and looked around in a circle. His gaze suddenly fell on the crystal box on the bookshelf—the snow-white phoenix was still graceful and elegant.

He squinted his eyes, something stirred within him, and he said warmly: “Not being able to leave Hualin with a mother—that was my mistake. But Father is a selfish ghost. Ah, just forget about the matter of a mother.”

Hualin’s eyes widened in shock: “What’s a selfish ghost?”

Shao Yi laughed heartily, lowering his head to kiss her cheek: “That term is too difficult for you. I’ll teach you later.”

She was very dissatisfied, pouting her lips so much you could hang an oil bottle on them. She buried her head and silently wrote a few characters, then suddenly came out with an old-fashioned remark: “Father, are you lonely?”

She even knew the word “lonely”? It must have been those attending female immortals chattering away idly when they had nothing to do, and she learned it from them.

Shao Yi said leisurely: “I have Hualin, how could I be lonely? Now that I also have a younger brother, I’m even less lonely.”

The cunning Dijun didn’t want to listen to his daughter endlessly asking those questions that gave him a headache. He simply held her on his lap, took a leaf, and carefully played a clean and gentle melody.

Hualin liked this tune very much. The little Phoenix Lord wrapped in cloud gauze also liked it very much—his small wings fluttered a few times.

As long as they liked it, that was good. He would keep playing it. For them, beautiful and brilliant things would never be fleeting.