In the deep autumn season at Qing Di’s palace, the view was filled with brilliant shades of deep and light gold. Those towering, rampant greens that had been so wildly arrogant in spring and summer had all transformed into colors of the most dazzling splendor.

Countless fallen leaves covered the steps. Because it rained frequently here at Mount Tai, everything was quite damp. When soft boots stepped upon them, there was no crisp cracking sound—instead, they felt soft and yielding, like walking on clouds of fine brocade.

Walking all the way to the white stone bridge, the densely packed thick green bamboo stalks were still verdantly dripping with color. Cold water droplets fell down, making rustling sounds.

The divine official leading the way seemed to always wear a somewhat ambiguous smile on his face. Bowing, he said: “Princess Xuan Yi, Shenjun has not yet awakened. I fear we may be neglecting our honored guest. We humbly ask for your understanding.”

To tell the truth, the divine officials of the Huaxu Clan were truly bold. With Qing Di away from home and Shenjun in deep slumber, they still dared to let her enter like this—weren’t they afraid she harbored ulterior motives?

Perhaps seeing the subtle expression on Xuan Yi’s face, this leading divine official who had served for many years and was extremely skilled at reading people’s expressions smiled and said: “Princess Xuan Yi is naturally not an outside guest. Please, go ahead.”

Why was she not an outside guest? Xuan Yi rarely felt somewhat at a loss. She broke through the cloud boundary and for the second time entered that courtyard that belonged only to Fucang.

Everything was still the same as before—the clean and refreshing wind, the long nanmu wood corridor, the leaves of the towering trees had turned golden yellow in accordance with the season. The ground was covered with a layer of fallen leaves, clearly showing that Fucang did not allow divine servants to enter, leaving the fallen leaves unswept by any divine servant.

Xuan Yi tried to lighten her footsteps as much as possible. Like the first time she came, she was a bit furtive. She pushed open the third wooden door and carefully peeked her head inside to look around—there wasn’t much change here either. The floor was covered with cushions, but there were a few more bookshelves added, filled with books. A row had been deliberately left empty to stack the little snow figurines she had made for him when they were in the lower realm.

Presumably because they were frequently handled, the snow sword Chun Jun had become somewhat dull.

Xuan Yi picked up those little snow figurines one by one to look at them, then turned her head to look toward the desk on the east side. Paper was neatly stacked in a pile, pressed down with a bronze paperweight, and various brushes hung on a stand. She removed the paperweight and looked at those white papers stained with ink marks one by one. Suddenly she came across several sheets—they were all written with the character for “dragon.” She couldn’t help but stare at them for a long while.

The wind carrying a clean scent blew through the green gauze curtain outside the sleeping chamber. Xuan Yi stepped inside with the lightest footsteps, lifted the green gauze, and continued to peek inside. Fucang’s Chun Jun sword lay horizontally on a wooden stand to the south. A gauze canopy shrouded a bed in the corner of the wall. The curtain was not drawn closed. A section of the corner of a dark-colored long robe hung down beneath the bed. Fucang lay peacefully on his side, a head of jet-black hair spread across the pillow, sleeping soundly.

She pulled over a cushion to sit by the bed, resting her chin on her hands in front of him, staring at his face. His eyelids didn’t move, his lips didn’t move, and even less would he talk in his sleep—not at all like that mortal imperial prince in the lower realm.

She had come, and he still wouldn’t wake?

She raised her hand and waved it in front of Fucang’s face. He had no reaction at all.

Xuan Yi lowered her head and gently blew a breath toward his face. Still no reaction.

She climbed onto the bed. The mud and sand from her shoe soles scattered all over his bedding. That dark-colored robe on his body was hanging precariously, exposing half of the wound on his back. She not very gently pulled that section of the robe down below and carefully examined the injury, confirming that the turbid qi would soon be completely expelled. Only then did she quietly breathe a sigh of relief.

He still slept. He still slept. Not moving at all, his breathing deep and long—truly not giving her any face.

Xuan Yi lay down behind him, her fingers lightly tracing across his firm and solid back. In a low voice, she called to him: “Senior Brother Fucang.”

No sound.

She dejectedly rested her head against him.

The sun gradually slanted westward. In this courtyard, the only sound was the fine wind, scraping against those trees outside, like light rain falling. In this continuous sound of light rain that she found comfortable, Xuan Yi slowly fell asleep.

She stayed in this courtyard for two whole days. During this time, aside from Fucang changing position to continue lying on his side, he remained in deep slumber from beginning to end. Did exhausting one’s divine power really require sleeping for this long?

Xuan Yi rested her head on the edge of the bed, using snow to carefully fill in the little snow figurines in her hand. Over these years, they had probably been touched every day and had been rubbed smooth. She was refilling their shapes to make them exquisite again.

Just as she was re-smoothing the veins on the peony flower petals, she suddenly felt the golden seal on her right wrist jumping continuously—Qing Yan was calling her. He very rarely used this method to summon her.

Xuan Yi carefully placed the repaired little snow figurines back on the bookshelf, pulled out a sheet of white paper, and wrote a line in flowing script. She turned her head to look once more toward the sleeping chamber before reluctantly leaving.

—

Hurrying back to the War General Palace in the Dingmao Division of the lower realm, the moment she descended into the Clear Light Array, she saw Qing Yan with a gloomy expression, arms folded, leaning against the wall waiting. Seeing Xuan Yi arrive, he suddenly breathed a sigh of relief and, rarely, stepped forward to embrace her in one motion, saying in a low voice: “…Thank goodness you’re all right.”

Xuan Yi was somewhat stunned: “What happened?”

Qing Yan frowned and drew a breath: “Yesterday the war general from Yihai Division came to find me, saying that Father suddenly disappeared. I immediately thought… You just came back from the upper realm? Is he at Mount Zhong?”

Zhongshan Dijun disappeared? Xuan Yi shook her head: “He’s not at Mount Zhong, and there’s no record of his comings and goings at the Southern Heavenly Gate either.”

Qing Yan sighed: “Don’t let Qi Nan know about this, or he’ll go crazy. I’m afraid this fellow has reverted to his old ways again… Let’s not worry about it for now. Let’s wait a bit longer.”

Actually, she also felt that Zhongshan Dijun had relapsed into his old habits. Not knowing which beautiful goddess had caught his eye, he had begun another episode of “arousing feelings but stopping at propriety.” Time passed quickly in the lower realm—not seeing someone for a day was really quite normal.

Because his little sister was fine, Qing Yan stopped worrying. Over these years, he had long since become disheartened toward Zhongshan Dijun. Moreover, there were truly not many things under heaven that could harm someone from the Zhuyin Clan. He was still a Dijun—if something really happened, there would surely be earth-shattering movements. Since there was complete silence, nine times out of ten his old problem had flared up again.

Seeing Xuan Yi’s brow furrowed into a knot, Qing Yan smiled and rubbed it smooth for her: “Why worry about him? Come, let’s go back to the room. You’ve been in the upper realm these past days—Fucang still hasn’t awakened?”

What sending Fu Luo back to see Gu Ting—did he not know her? Making up a bunch of excuses when she just wanted to go back to see Fucang.

Xuan Yi feigned indifference and turned her face away: “Sleeping like a pig.”

Qing Yan thought for a moment: “His final move was transforming sword qi into a deity. According to his age and cultivation level, for the Huaxu Clan sword dao, transforming sword qi into dragons and transforming sword qi into tides should be no problem. Transforming sword qi into a deity probably takes a bit more effort. Perhaps this deep sleep also has the meaning of a breakthrough in sword dao. Then sleeping longer would be normal.”

Xuan Yi smiled and scraped his face: “Old man, acting so mature—he’s older than you.”

Qing Yan was somewhat teasing: “No matter how much older than me he is, in the future he’ll still be my brother-in-law, calling me big brother.”

Brother-in-law? He was really thinking too much. Leaving aside everything else, presumably Old Man Qing Di would be the first to disagree.

Xuan Yi didn’t want to discuss this with him. She simply took out the matters of Fu Luo and Gu Ting to chatter about. Just as she was halfway through, she heard a thunderous “boom” from outside the building. The entire ground was trembling, yet the war generals in the palace seemed to have long since grown accustomed to this situation, filing out from their rooms in an orderly manner.

They saw a blood-red command talisman suspended above the Clear Light Array—it was an urgent summons sent from Yiguiwei Division thirty thousand li to the northeast. Crown Prince Chang Qin was probably sleeping and came walking quickly with disheveled clothing to take down the command talisman. The moment it touched his hand, it rapidly turned to ash. His expression also became extremely ugly: “Yiguiwei Division has encountered Great Lords Hushen and Shangmao. Command talismans have been sent to all war divisions.”

Two Great Lords! Were these demon clan members trying to rebel?!

The war generals of Dingmao Division swiftly donned their armor and equipment. Qing Yan originally wanted to tell Xuan Yi to stay behind, but after thinking about it, these words would probably be like passing gas to her. So he said: “Come along then. Two Great Lords are no small matter—just protect yourself.”

Shangmao was most skilled at demonic thunder and devilish lightning. Hushen was most skilled at summoning wind and rain and monstrous floods. This would inevitably be a bitter battle. If other Great Lords were also stirring restlessly along with them, who knew how many years of continuous fighting there would be. Zhongshan Dijun had gone missing at this critical juncture too. The situation was truly extremely grave.

The war generals transformed into masses of raging wind, racing madly toward that place thirty thousand li to the northeast. They saw in the vast night sky auspicious lights flashing in all directions—war divisions from all places had mobilized.

When dawn was just breaking, Xuan Yi suddenly felt demonic clouds gathering densely in the distance. Wave after wave of deafening thunderous sounds shook until even her chest was trembling. Black waves swept across the endless sky and earth. The great flood had already risen tens of millions of zhang. The various war generals who had arrived first were battling with Great Lord Shangmao in one place. This Great Lord’s head looked like a strange rabbit, but his body was like a fierce tiger—so ugly that Xuan Yi couldn’t bear to look anymore. Glancing toward the distance, she saw other war generals and demon clan war generals fighting in complete chaos. She exhaled in one breath. In an instant, heaven and earth froze. A massive ice tornado swept up hundreds of demon clan members, continuously grinding them into fragments.

The snow-white Great Lord Hushen stood upright at the peak of demonic waters. Those pitch-black surging waves layered up, and he grabbed out several masses with his hands as if grabbing cotton, fiercely smashing them down toward the various gods. When the demonic water fell to the ground, it transformed into pools of extremely foul-smelling water. If one was careless enough to be touched by even a single drop, one’s flesh would be corroded, causing unbearable pain.

Crown Prince Chang Qin strummed his fifty-stringed zither while methodically shouting stern orders: “Division A, war generals, deal with Hushen! Division B, assist Great Emperor Gouchen in dealing with Great Lord Shangmao!”

As soon as the words fell, he suddenly felt the ground begin to rapidly rise. Deep, profound ravines channeled those black waves into their depths, preventing them from surging and rolling. Baize Dijun’s childish yet steady voice resounded through heaven and earth: “This seat has brought xirang. All of you need not panic.”

Baize Dijun had arrived! The gods immediately became invigorated. Baize Dijun took out a glazed paperweight from his bosom. He lightly tossed it, and it landed before Hushen’s eyes. Hushen reached out to grab it, but who would have thought that with one grasp, it all shattered into powder and fell into his eyes. In an instant, he screamed in pain continuously, thrashing wildly in the demonic water. The assembled war generals swarmed forward, wishing they could beat him into a rag.

The towering giant waves that had given them such headaches earlier were now restrained by the xirang. When the water rose one zhang, the xirang rose ten zhang. Without the flooding of the great waters, Great Lord Shangmao’s demonic thunder and devilish lightning immediately lost much of their威力. Crown Prince Chang Qin震荡 his divine power. Several zither strings suddenly shot out swiftly, wrapping around Shangmao’s neck. He pulled hard, actually forcibly yanking this Great Lord down to smash heavily onto the ground.

An earth-shattering chaotic battle—who knew if the mortals in the lower realm had been scared to death.

While Xuan Yi blew snow to freeze the demon clan war generals, she looked around in all directions, searching for Qing Yan’s figure. Why couldn’t she see his blizzard?

A dark blue flame suddenly streaked past her shoulder like a meteor, piercing into the space between the brows of a demon clan war general. This pitiful demon clan member’s screams were heart-rending. Xuan Yi quickly covered her ears.

A hand friendly patted her shoulder lightly. Shao Yi’s voice seemed unusually clear amidst all the noise and clamor: “Little loach, how come you’re here too?”