The continuous spring rain fell on the towering trees in the courtyard. This subtle sound became especially clear because of the courtyard’s profound tranquility.

In the dim room with closed curtains, outside the blue gauze canopy, a slender bare leg appeared. In a moment, this leg was caught and pulled back inside the canopy. Fucang held the soft, boneless, delicate jade foot in his hands to admire, and seeing several spots of bruising on the instep, he lightly rubbed them with his fingertips.

Another foot rested against his bare chest, the toes following the long and powerful lines downward in an ambiguous manner, landing on his abdomen, still wanting to continue downward.

Fucang couldn’t help but catch it with one hand and gently pull. The Dragon Princess’s body fell into his embrace. She was always slow to warm up, initially always dodging for a while before willingly sinking into her indulgent dragon nature. Her temperament was also like this.

Their temples rubbing together, her body twisted like a snake in his embrace. The tides of wild joy and exhilaration swallowed him—the pleasure of being completely submerged. Fucang’s lips fell on her collarbone, adding another bruise.

Not knowing how much time had passed, all the clamor settled down. Fucang held her body. Her eyelashes had been dampened by sweat, tiny water droplets condensing on them. He lowered his head to kiss them away, and in his heart felt some regret. Too indulgent. She had only just awakened after sleeping for two thousand years. It shouldn’t have been this soon. He should have been more restrained.

Her bare shoulders were covered with countless spots of bruising. Fucang brushed aside her long hair, and sure enough, her neck was also full of them. He caressed them carefully for a moment, at times continuing to regret, at times feeling an indescribable pleasure.

Suddenly he heard her say in a somewhat hoarse voice: “Senior Apprentice Brother Fucang, I want to see the Immortal Radiant Apricot Blossoms.”

…Now? Fucang blew out a breath, and the closed curtains opened a crack. Outside, the night was deep.

That was fine too.

Fucang helped her put on his own long robe, tightly fastening the collar to cover all the ambiguous marks. Then he took black gauze to cover her eyes—even the cool moonlight would harm her currently fragile eyes.

The Huaxu Clan barrier was erected around them to block the continuous spring rain. Fucang held her in one arm as they descended the enormous and lengthy stairs step by step, wooden-soled shoes making crisp sounds.

In the night at Qing Di Palace, the sounds of wind and rain were continuous. In this vast and quiet landscape, it was as if there were only the two of them depending on each other.

Xuan Yi watched quietly for a while, then suddenly said: “Senior Apprentice Brother Fucang, where is His Majesty Qing Di?”

Qing Di definitely also knew about her sleeping in the Chun Jun sword all these years. She estimated the old gentleman might not be very pleased.

Fucang said: “Father should be accompanying Mother on an outing.”

He had a mother?! Xuan Yi was rarely somewhat surprised. How come she had never seen her?

“Mother is the daughter of Taiyi Dijun from beyond the Thirty-Three Heavens. She has always pursued the immortality of her true nature. Unfortunately, she failed at the hundred lifetimes of reincarnation tribulation and nearly perished. Because of this, Father comprehended the transformation of sword energy into brightness and darkness, and sheltered Mother’s divine soul and divine body within the Huaxu Clan Peachwood Divine Sword. From then on, she essentially lived inside the peachwood sword. Aside from Father, no one can see her.”

She really couldn’t tell that His Majesty Qing Di was so devoted. Xuan Yi sighed again. Comparing him to her own father, she suddenly felt it was too miserable to look at.

Fucang brushed aside the stray hair by her temples, saying warmly: “They both quite like you.”

How could she not believe even a little? But it didn’t matter anyway. Xuan Yi hooked her arms around his neck.

The Immortal Radiant Apricot Blossoms in the garden had indeed already bloomed more than halfway, palm-sized flowers clustering densely together, swaying gracefully with the wind in the fine rain. Appreciating flowers in the night rain, with fallen petals covering the ground—there truly was another kind of poignant beauty to it.

Xuan Yi gazed toward distant Chengjiang Lake. The lake and half of Tai Mountain were submerged in clouds and rain—completely different from that day’s bright rosy clouds and the glittering golden roof of Qing Di Palace.

She lowered her head to look at Fucang holding her. He was also gazing at her, with that same look as always. In a flash, he seemed to suddenly become three figures—the cool yet fragile divine lord, the clean and gentle Seventh Prince, the persistent and resolute white-robed war general.

As if reincarnated three times, each time looking at her with exactly the same gaze.

She smiled faintly and suddenly said: “Senior Apprentice Brother Fucang, back when you told me a thousand-year dream wasn’t urgent, I was actually very happy.”

She herself avoided that fondness she had for him like it was a venomous snake, hoping he would hate her forever. But when he said a thousand-year dream could be delayed for her sake, there truly had been joy in her heart. A joy that frightened her. Perhaps it was also from that moment that she understood where that fury and competitive spirit she had uniquely toward him came from.

In the end, she couldn’t control it. Clinging to him like that, entangling with him like that—even though at the bottom of her heart she kept remembering Mother’s blood and cries, she still longed for those bits of sweetness.

“I’ve always been very fond.” After more than twenty thousand years, Xuan Yi finally confessed openly once more before the white-robed divine lord. “So, if it is the case…”

They had never been together for a very long time, yet they had already experienced life and death together. But the most terrifying thing in this world was never the fickleness of the outside world, but rather the long and trivial passage of time. When a man becomes infatuated, he can still speak of it; when a woman becomes infatuated, she cannot speak of it. However, if this man was him, she was very willing.

Xuan Yi shifted her gaze, her eyes falling on the dawn light slowly spreading at the horizon. The rain gradually stopped. Water still dripped from the branches, and fallen petals covered her body.

“As for me, I like it the most.”

The rain stopped and clouds dispersed. The dawn at the horizon began to show a transparent and delicate pale blue. The morning glow gradually illuminated the entire Qing Di Palace thread by thread. Water mist filled the air. The satin-like gorgeous colors of the Immortal Radiant Apricot Blossoms in the rosy light and water mist also illuminated the Dragon Princess’s pale complexion. She truly was very suited to vivid colors.

One branch of heavy apricot blossoms had taken on too much rainwater and bent down heavily. She braced herself against his shoulder to reach for the most beautifully bloomed bright red blossom, wide sleeves falling to her elbows.

Fucang raised his hand to pluck it for her, flicked away the raindrops on it, and gently pinned it in her hair. Her beauty surpassed the flower.

He remembered the first time with her beneath flowers, the subtle loneliness that had flowed through her eyes, the disgust for her at the bottom of his heart, and the sudden realization that he was hopelessly attracted—the shock of it. That truly was a fateful day.

From that moment on, he had hoped that one day he could be like this, admiring together with her this scene of falling petals in profusion and brilliant rosy clouds.

Day had broken. The wind and rain had also stopped. Everything would get better.

Fucang raised his head and pressed a kiss to her forehead: “I love.”

*

It was a clear spring day. On Flower Emperor’s Immortal Island, that whirling peony that only bloomed once every thirty thousand years finally showed signs of stirring, opening a crack.

At the same time, the grand wedding of Flower Emperor’s third son, Divine Lord Gu Ting, and Chi Di’s young princess, Yan Xia, was magnificently spread across Flower Emperor’s Immortal Island, which was covered with rare flowers and exotic plants. The guests almost trampled the threshold down by half.

Immortal pear blossoms like piled clouds and accumulated snow were spread throughout the immortal island. Under the trees, countless guests gathered in groups of three to five. The sounds of talking and laughing were like waves of tides. Only the edge of the immortal island was slightly quieter.

Where the wind passed, pear blossoms fell like light snow. Under a tree stood a goddess quietly, wearing a water-red colored elaborate lotus robe. The golden rings in her fluffy hair shone brilliantly. That graceful figure, just standing still without moving, seemed about to take flight.

Occasionally passing divine lords who saw such beauty found their feet wouldn’t move. They quietly drew closer, only to see she had black gauze over her eyes. The curve of her cheek beneath the gauze was full and alluring.

He immediately said warmly: “This must be Princess Xuan Yi of the Zhuyin Clan.”

Xuan Yi slowly turned her head, looked at this unfamiliar divine lord, and said nothing.

The divine lord smiled again and said: “Not only is the princess’s great name known far and wide, who would have thought she would also be such a rarely seen beauty. Today the spring scenery is excellent, and the immortal island has countless beautiful views. How is the princess here alone? This one is interested in extending an invitation. I wonder if the princess would do me the honor? This one is…”

Before he finished speaking, he suddenly saw from behind the flourishing pear trees not far away, a divine lord in dark blue luxurious robes gracefully walking around, his gait clean and decisive. Today was Flower Emperor’s third son’s wedding, yet he still wore a pale blue treasure sword at his waist. Looking carefully, it was actually Chun Jun.

It was Fucang Shenjun of the Huaxu Clan.

That divine lord hadn’t yet thought of what to say, but saw Fucang Shenjun take the Zhuyin Clan princess’s hand, turn around, and leave.