I remember when Fucang was three thousand years old, his chubby childhood features had just begun to refine somewhat. Because he was born with delicate brows, beautiful eyes, rosy lips, and white teeth, he actually resembled a young goddess.

Qing Di would occasionally feel inspired and pat his little head while sighing: “When this child grows up, I’m afraid he won’t have any peace.”

Later, he discovered that even before Fucang grew up, he already had no peace.

One day, on Chi Di’s birthday, Qing Di and his wife brought young Shenjun Fucang to attend the banquet. At that time, Chi Di’s eldest son Wuhui, who was only six thousand years old, saw him and became completely mesmerized—his eyes were fixed on Fucang’s face and couldn’t be pried away. Not only him, but many young shenjuns of similar age also kept stealing glances in this direction. With one moment of inattention from Qing Di and his wife, Fucang had already been surrounded by a group of young shenjuns who admired beauty. Before him, delicious tea treats and snacks were piled mountain-high, as everyone offered him their beloved treats.

“This little princess is so stunningly beautiful, when she grows up she must marry me!” A certain young shenjun who appeared to be only four or five thousand years old was already considering major life matters for his future divine existence.

Fucang glared at him most unfriendly, his icy gaze frightening this young shenjun to tears.

Qing Di beckoned to him with a bitter smile: “Fucang, come here.”

The little beauty who looked like carved jade and piled snow stood up, and only then did the various young shenjuns realize he was dressed as a shenjun. His gait and manner were very clean and efficient. In an instant, the young shenjuns scattered like birds and beasts, deeply discouraged.

Qing Di cleared his throat and suddenly turned to look at his wife: “Being pestered by young shenjuns is still better than being pestered by young goddesses, right?”

His wife shook her head: “…In certain respects, it’s worse.”

After returning home, his wife changed Fucang’s attire. His soft hair was no longer styled into various decorative buns for beauty’s sake, and his brightly colored, elaborately styled clothes were also changed to simple white robes. She gently instructed Fucang: “From now on, dress like this. No more colorful clothes.”

Thus, Shenjun Fucang in his white robes, at the age of twenty-two thousand, became renowned far and wide for a sword dance at an imperial daughter’s wedding banquet. From then on, he embarked on a career of being admired and pursued by goddesses and female demons from all walks.

The only thing that could comfort Qing Di in his old age was probably that compared to going out to carouse, Fucang preferred to stay alone in his courtyard, quietly reading book after book, lazily practicing his swordsmanship.

At that time, even though goddesses from all walks admired Shenjun Fucang, aside from that mystical goddess Xihe, most were still relatively reserved toward him and not so wild. Perhaps for them, observing this cold-as-moonlight shenjun from afar was better than actually going up to him and having their warm face meet his cold backside.

So every time Fucang went out, aside from always being stared at by countless gazes, there weren’t really many truly inconvenient situations. He never imagined that the first genuine seduction he would face would come from a good friend’s fiancée.

When Gu Ting was twenty-eight thousand years old, he met Princess Fulo of Tuxiang Mountain at a wine banquet. He was immediately conquered by this stunningly beautiful and warmly generous goddess and fell into the net of love. Returning home, he begged his father Hua Huang to propose marriage and arrange an engagement on his behalf. In this old-fashioned shenjun’s heart, if you liked someone, you had to bind them with a formal commitment first.

Gu Ting’s engagement banquet was quite grand. Perhaps because he was overly happy, before the feast was even half over, Gu Ting was already thoroughly drunk. He dragged the bashful Fulo over to toast Fucang, his words unclear: “Fucang… this is Fulo… come, toast me…”

Fulo quietly reminded him: “We should be toasting Shenjun Fucang.”

She held her wine cup with a graceful smile, her brows and eyes full of spring charm. She leaned forward and lightly clinked her cup against the wine cup in Fucang’s hand, pausing for a moment before withdrawing it. In a delicate voice she said: “Shenjun Fucang, I’ve heard you have an extremely good relationship with Gu Ting. Since you’re a bit younger than me, may I call you Younger Brother Fucang?”

The drunk Gu Ting burst into loud laughter over the four words “Younger Brother Fucang.” Amid the laughter, Fulo quietly pinched Fucang’s little finger. The white-robed shenjun stepped back two paces, silently drank the wine in his cup dry, then turned and moved away.

That night, all the guests stayed overnight on Hua Huang’s immortal island. Fucang finished reading the book he had brought and only then blew out the silver lamp, but his door was knocked upon.

“Younger Brother Fucang, open the door.” Fulo’s voice, countless times more coquettish than during the day, softly sounded from outside.

Fucang’s brows furrowed. He didn’t move, his voice indifferent: “What matter?”

Fulo said softly: “It’s Gu Ting—he’s drunk too much and is throwing a drunken fit. The divine servants can’t control him. It’s so late, it wouldn’t be good to disturb Hua Huang in his old age.”

Gu Ting would throw a drunken fit? Fucang’s brows furrowed even deeper, then relaxed. He rose and efficiently opened the door. In the next moment, a gorgeous shadow flashed and threw itself toward his embrace. Under the moonlight, that gauze garment on her body was practically transparent.

Fucang shifted his body to the side, avoiding her movement. With his other hand, he grabbed a chair and smoothly knocked it against the bend of her knees. Fulo involuntarily sat down.

“You hurt me.” She said in a delicate voice, raising her leg and pressing one hand against the painful spot. Her bare legs were thus exposed from beneath the gauze garment.

Fucang pulled his outer robe closed, also picked up the book he had brought, and said indifferently: “Close your eyes.”

Hooked! Fulo joyfully closed her eyes. After waiting a long while with no movement, she timidly called to him: “Younger Brother Fucang?”

There was no response. She opened her eyes in bewilderment, only to discover that white-robed figure had long since disappeared from the guest room. The door had been shut and locked from outside, the window also locked from outside. She had actually been locked in this guest room by that shenjun!

When Fucang found Gu Ting, he had long since fallen completely asleep, reeking of alcohol. Fucang was about to summon rain and dew to wake him up and remind him that this fiancée he had found was really quite improper. But after thinking it over, he still didn’t move.

Gu Ting seemed to have fallen very deeply, and was so happy—even the marriage contract was already arranged. If this engagement weren’t already set, he would definitely tell him without hesitation. But with the Yao clan of Hua Huang caring so much about face, to cancel an engagement right after arranging it would be no less than an extremely heavy blow.

Better to delay this matter first, or let Gu Ting slowly discover it himself. Otherwise, to reach the peak of excitement only to suddenly fall into the painful abyss—that taste would surely be unpleasant.

The sound of wind howled. Fulo, who had finally escaped from the guest room with great difficulty, transformed into a gust of wind and landed behind him. She stared at Fucang with what seemed like both resentful coquetry and fear. That transparent gauze garment on her body emanated a layer of purple and was finally no longer transparent.

Fucang summoned a large cloud of rain and dew and threw it all at once onto Gu Ting’s face, startling him into rolling up with a shocked cry. The white-robed shenjun quietly departed, leaving behind only four words: “Take care of yourself.”

After Fulo, Fucang kept his distance from all goddesses who would cast flirtatious glances and seductive looks, until he met a dragon princess who constantly cast flirtatious glances at him.

At first, he thought she and Fulo were the same type.

Afterward, he thought, she seems a bit different.

Finally, he thought, only when she casts flirtatious glances and seductive looks does it look good.

A very, very long time later one day, the dragon princess suddenly asked him: How did Senior Sister Fulo seduce you back then?

After a moment of deep contemplation, Fucang decided not to tell her the truth.

Not telling her seemed more prudent, the white-robed shenjun with endless peach blossom luck thought to himself.