The way of heaven takes from excess to supplement insufficiency. Unlike mortals in the lower realms, to avoid imbalance between purity and turbidity, the reproduction and procreation of the gods in the upper realms relied entirely on spiritual dream omens. Only within ten days after a spiritual dream descended was conception possible. And for tribes with bloodlines as rare and noble as the Huaxu Clan and Zhuyin Clan, having two or three conception spiritual dreams in a lifetime was already considered excellent.
Ordinarily, omens wouldn’t appear until after one hundred thousand years of marriage. Who would have thought his spiritual dream would come so quickly?
Xuan Yi used her sleeve to suppress a yawn, stretching lazily as she hugged his neck: “Can I say I don’t want to give birth?”
…Her tone didn’t sound like she didn’t want to.
Fucang caressed her cool cheeks, speaking gently: “Really don’t want to?”
She softly exhaled, her tone even softer: “Then can we wait a few days?”
Fucang extended a finger and flicked her face extremely lightly: “Silly Princess.”
In the splendid evening glow, the azure pool water in the white jade pool at the mountain summit seemed to have been transformed, becoming an extremely pale crimson. The emerald tree branches and leaves by the pool hung down, as if wanting to draw spiritual liquid from the pool.
Xuan Yi stared intently at this gorgeous scenery until nightfall, when the pool water gradually became sparkling like the celestial river.
Truly beautiful.
Fucang said softly: “At dawn, the pool water becomes pale green. If it rains, it’s azure lotus color. Only when it snows does it have no color.”
Xuan Yi couldn’t help turning back: “…How long did you stay here last time?”
He thought for a moment: “Two years, perhaps.”
The Dragon Princess looked at him silently, her eyes flowing, revealing an extremely rare tender expression. Fucang then removed the golden circlet from her hair to examine. This golden circlet was exquisitely crafted, though one could also see the style was no longer contemporary. Although she never said it, most likely it was her mother’s relic.
Suddenly he heard her say in a low voice: “Qing Yan too—went alone to the Cuihe shore and stayed for several years.”
When he returned, there was a pair of jet-black pearl earrings on his ears from then on, said to be ornaments the river god had given his mother when she was young. To this day, he still hadn’t removed them. He didn’t want to marry, probably feeling he would definitely become like Father—the indulgent dragon nature meant that generations of Zhuyin Clan emperors had no good reputation when it came to relationships.
Xuan Yi suddenly softly entangled herself around the Qinghua Dijun before her, an ambiguous smile rising on her jade cheeks, her voice becoming coquettish: “Senior Brother Fucang, it seems I don’t want to wait anymore.”
She pressed against his lips and, imitating his manner, bit down.
*
In the sixtieth year after the grand wedding, on a scorching summer day, the Princess brought her husband back to Zhongshan, incidentally bringing earth-shattering news: she was with child, of Huaxu Clan blood.
Qi Nan was probably the most excited and happy. Without paying attention, he cried until half his face was swollen. He had already stopped being a divine official, remaining at Zhongshan to enjoy his retirement. Raised by Qing Yan, he had actually gained a bit of weight. At this moment, learning the Princess was with child, how could he sit still? He immediately volunteered: “Princess, let me take care of you.”
Those divine officials at Qing Di Palace were clumsy and awkward, and the attending female immortals were also dull-witted. He absolutely didn’t trust them to care for the Princess.
Qing Yan only laughed, gently tapping the forehead of his younger sister who was burying her head and vigorously eating candied plums: “Why isn’t it Zhuyin Clan blood? You’ve been outdone.”
Xuan Yi elegantly spat out a plum pit. She didn’t know if it was because of the pregnancy, but her preference for this sweet-and-sour taste had reached the highest point of her life. In no time, she had eaten half a box.
Qi Nan consoled her quite expertly: “Princess, don’t eat too much—be careful of nausea. The first three hundred years show no signs. You can be completely at ease.”
She immediately lost interest in the candied plums. Turned out she was just craving food.
“Where’s Father?” she asked.
Qing Yan said coolly: “He heard that the previous generation Qing Di was wandering the four seas, quite carefree and comfortable, so he also left Zhongshan to seek flowers and willows everywhere.”
These words made Qi Nan spray out another mouthful of tea.
Xuan Yi stretched lazily. Although Qi Nan said the first three hundred years showed no signs, these few months since becoming pregnant, she still felt more prone to drowsiness than usual. Zhongshan’s ice-sealed and snow-buried cold aura made her extremely comfortable. She immediately grasped Qi Nan’s sleeve coquettishly: “I want to stay in the Purple Palace for a few days. Qi Nan, are my cloud gauze pillows and bedding still there?”
“They are, they are.” Qi Nan forgot he was no longer a divine official, hastily leading the way. “Everything’s still the same.”
Whether it was returning to the familiar Purple Palace that made Xuan Yi particularly at ease, or Zhongshan’s cold yin energy that made her comfortable, upon entering Yuanzhan Hall, she sat on her bed and actually felt drowsiness and sleepiness proliferate. Without even removing her outer garments, she collapsed onto it and fell asleep.
Fucang removed her shoes and covered her with blankets before closing the gauze curtains. Qi Nan spoke in a low voice behind him: “The Princess is likely especially dependent on cold yin power because of the pregnancy. The Dijun need not worry.”
Since becoming pregnant, she looked no different from usual—in fact, she seemed even more energetic. Fucang hadn’t given it much thought. Who would have expected her fatigue was all accumulated inside, becoming soft as soon as she returned to Zhongshan?
Encountering these things for the first time, Fucang finally couldn’t remain as composed as usual. His jet-black eyes looked at Qi Nan, wanting to speak but hesitating. Qi Nan immediately wore an expression of “I understand, no need to say”: “Dijun, please wait a moment.”
He quickly walked out of the Purple Palace. After a long while, he returned carrying a mountain-high pile of books, placing them all on the desk, saying kindly: “When the Dijun has free time, you may read these.”
He believed that with Fucang’s perceptive intelligence, after reading all these books, he should be sufficiently equipped to handle the Princess’s various strange symptoms during her thousand-year pregnancy.
That night, while the weary Princess slept soundly within the gauze curtains, in Yuanzhan Hall’s study, the silver lamp burned all night. The earnest His Majesty Qinghua Dijun read through that mountain-high pile of books, one by one.
As dawn light began to show at the horizon’s edge, His Majesty finished the last book and let out a long breath.
He decided that after giving birth to this one, he would never make the Dragon Princess give birth again. If Qing Yan wanted Zhuyin Clan blood, he could give birth himself.
*
Xuan Yi slept for three days straight. She felt refreshed. After lunch, not finding Fucang anywhere and wandering about aimlessly, she saw Qi Nan standing at the mountain gate. Several Zhuyin Clan ceremonial carriages had just disappeared into the sea of clouds. She asked curiously: “Qi Nan, what are you doing?”
Qi Nan came over with a smile to support her: “Princess, you’ll know when you turn around.”
What secret things were they arranging privately again? Xuan Yi looked around: “Where’s Senior Brother Fucang?”
“He has some matters to discuss with the Dijun. Princess, don’t disturb them. Come, let’s go have some refreshments.”
Fucang and Qing Yan have matters to discuss? She didn’t believe it one bit. But in any case, having refreshments to eat always made her happy. Xuan Yi floated away following Qi Nan, her feet barely touching the ground.
She hadn’t even finished one row of agate white jade cakes when a familiar figure entered from the cloud realm. Xuan Yi rushed over like a butterfly through flowers. He caught her in alarm, frowning: “Don’t run like that.”
The young Dijun, still a thousand years away from becoming a father, was already getting a bit nervous.
Xuan Yi smiled as she held his hand, walking backward. After just a few steps, he turned her around: “Don’t walk like that either.”
She pouted: “You’re not going to tell me not to walk for a thousand years, are you?”
Once the three hundred years of leave passed, she still had to return to Wangshu Palace to continue being Wangshu Shennu.
Fucang wrapped his arm around her shoulders, strolling under the Di Nu Mulberry: “Since you’re with child, in a few days I’ll send a handwritten letter to Wenhua Hall. The Wangshu position can wait. Be more obedient—walking like you just did won’t work.”
Xuan Yi laughed mischievously: “Otherwise you’ll lock me in Chunjun?”
He also laughed, lightly flicking her forehead: “That’s right—otherwise I’ll lock you in Chunjun.”
He suddenly lifted her by the waist and raised her high, pressing his ear against her abdomen to listen carefully. His and her child was nurturing inside. As if suddenly touched by the softest finger on his heart, he felt his entire heart soften. Wonderful and joyful feelings once again quickly submerged him.
There was a child now. Theirs.
Qi Nan had already very tactfully hidden far away, not disturbing this exceptionally loving couple who stuck together almost every day.
*
When returning to Qing Di Palace, Qing Yan accompanied them all the way to the mountain gate. Looking at Xuan Yi’s belly that showed no signs at all, he suddenly smiled. In his youth, his face had been full of gloom. After becoming Dijun, he became even more aloof in appearance. At this moment, his smile actually had a radiant quality.
“I’m going to be an uncle.” He touched Xuan Yi’s head, his voice becoming gentle. “With him taking care of you, I’m very much at ease.”
The shadow Mother left them was too deep, but he was immensely grateful that A’Yi had met the most suitable person. He knew that the young Dijun who had been entangled with A’Yi since youth would rather break himself than let her be hurt even slightly. That was enough.
Xuan Yi smiled faintly, speaking gently: “I still want to be a mischievous little aunt—that would certainly be very interesting. Who told you not to give me the chance?”
Qing Yan shook his head. He was the bloodline of generations of Zhuyin Clan emperors, and also Father’s child. He didn’t want tragedy to repeat itself with him. Whether it was the matter of the Sea of Parting Regret or Mother’s matter, it would be best if neither occurred in his generation.
The Huaxu Clan ceremonial carriage left the Zhongshan mountain gate. The scorching summer wind lifted the curtain. Xuan Yi immediately wilted, hugging the soft cushion and curling up in a corner, beginning to feel drowsy again.
A pair of hands picked her up, and then her body fell into a familiar embrace. Fucang wiped away the sweat on her neck. The pregnancy was truly making her suffer—and it would be a thousand years of suffering at that.
He gently blew a breath. Cool, clean wind swirled within the spacious ceremonial carriage, blowing away the sweat on her face.
“If you’re tired, then sleep.” He stroked her hair.
Who would have thought this Princess would silently create an ice mirror, look at herself for half the day, then discard it with tears brimming in her eyes: “I’ve become ugly.”
Fucang had already reached the realm of responding to all changes with constancy regarding her leaps of thought, saying coolly: “You’ll get even uglier later. Just get used to it.”
Xuan Yi turned her head to glare at him, greatly devastated. But he couldn’t hold back his laughter, patting her head: “Always thinking nonsense.”
The heavily wounded Princess buried her head in his embrace, saying sullenly: “Can I not give birth anymore?”
The capricious Princess began to greatly regret because of the matter of becoming ugly.
Fucang consoled her gently: “Just this one.”
She twisted like a spiral: “I’ll become ugly.”
He held her and consoled her carefully for half the day. In the end, it was still because of the heat that she fell asleep again without much energy.
When she awoke, she only felt the familiar cold yin power pervading all around, washing away the lethargy brought by the scorching summer day. Xuan Yi opened her eyes and looked around in bewilderment, only to see Yuanzhan Hall right before her. The Di Nu Mulberry woven with red and emerald made clear rustling sounds in the wind. She was rarely astonished again—back to Zhongshan? No, it didn’t seem right. This Yuanzhan Hall was much newer than the one in her Purple Palace.
Fucang placed her on the ground, speaking gently: “See what’s different.”
Xuan Yi slowly walked two steps, remembering long, long ago, in the scorching Qiongsang City, there had been an identical Cloud Realm Purple Palace. That was opened up by an even more ancient Zhuyin Clan Princess’s husband for her. She never would have imagined that Fucang would also open up the same Cloud Realm for her in Qing Di Palace.
She suddenly realized—when at Zhongshan, those ceremonial carriages that departed were carrying all the items from her former Purple Palace. Qing Yan and Fucang weren’t discussing matters, but had both come to Qing Di Palace. This familiar cold yin power was precisely Qing Yan’s.
She turned around, meeting Fucang’s gentle eyes. After a long while, the Princess finally smiled.
“So comfortable here.” She turned to hug his arm. “I like it very much.”
As long as she smiled, all was well. Fucang kissed her forehead.