It was a clear spring day when two sudden pieces of news broke the divine realm’s tranquility that had lasted many years.

The first: In Hua Huang’s back garden, the weeping peony that should only bloom once every thirty thousand years had sprouted buds after barely ten thousand years.

The second: According to hearsay, Tian Di intended to play matchmaker between the young princess of the Zhongshan Longshen Zhuyin Clan and the only son of Huaxu Clan’s Qing Di, Fucang Shenjun.

As it happened, the weeping peony in Hua Huang’s back garden had bloomed. With the thought of “not wanting their first meeting to be too awkward,” Tian Di set the first meeting of these two young celestial deities in Hua Huang’s back garden. With many celestial deities coming to admire the flowers and enjoy themselves, the two wouldn’t end up staring at each other in silence.

As soon as the news spread, celestial deities coming to admire the flowers and enjoy themselves had been arriving in an endless stream these past few days. The threshold of the back garden looked to have been trampled several inches lower.

Years ago, Zhongshan Dijun’s wife, the immortal Cuihe Xianzi, had perished in the Great Wilderness. The shenjun had since sealed Zhongshan and barely interacted with the various deities. To this day, no one had seen what appearance the shenjun’s son and daughter possessed.

As for that little princess, there were rumors about “Loach Princess” and the like—presumably she was just an ordinary minor deity eight or nine times out of ten.

However, no matter how ordinary, her birth remained extraordinarily noble.

Now the little princess had just reached ninety-seven hundred years of age, barely arriving at marriageable age, yet she could move Tian Di to play matchmaker for her while Qing Di introduced his only son. Such grand arrangements could only inspire envy and admiration among ordinary divine clans.

But why, of all people for Tian Di to match, did it have to be Fucang Shenjun? Countless goddesses in the divine realm had their fragrant hearts secretly broken over this.

One still remembered that year when Fucang Shenjun was merely twenty-two thousand years old. It happened to coincide with an imperial daughter’s wedding, and the banquet tables were set out for a full five days. When Tian Di married off his daughter, the various deities naturally had to show their support. At that time, the dragon daughters of the four seas first performed songs and dances. The Xiang Lord played the flute horizontally for amusement, Crown Prince Chang Qin harmonized with musical strings, and the goddess Xihe beat drums in response.

Tian Di, perhaps with wine興rising, suddenly turned to look at a young shenjun sitting alone in the southeastern corner and smiled: “Fucang, why not perform a sword dance to add to the festivities?”

The young shenjun rose with a shake of his sleeves, his graceful bearing like that of a crane. The long sword was held in his hand, flowing like clouds and water with natural ease.

At the end of a piece called “Bright Moon and Cold Frost,” his movements also concluded. The long sword traced a clean and beautiful line, and the young shenjun stood proudly upright. His slightly turned face showed a nose bridge and jawline arc that were refined and perfect. He raised his hand to return the long sword to the dragon daughters, his lowered eyelashes lifting to reveal eyes as cool and clear as moonlight.

Peerless elegance and talent.

That one sword dance made Fucang Shenjun’s name resound throughout the wilds and caused countless goddesses to become utterly entranced. Now thinking that he was about to fall into the clutches of the Zhuyin Clan’s little princess made their hearts break even more.

Three quarters past the hour of the goat, the wind suddenly picked up. The layered and surging sea of clouds seemed to be abruptly torn open by a pair of giant hands. A blue nine-headed lion flew with the wind, and in the blink of an eye landed in the pear blossom grove where flowers tangled in profusion.

Amidst the sky full of snow-white blossoms, the young shenjun lightly leaped down from the lion’s back, his wide sleeves swaying, graceful as a startled swan—it was none other than Fucang Shenjun, the only son of Qinghua Dijun.

He had actually come alone, bringing no attendants and no attending female immortals, leading the nine-headed lion as he strolled toward Hua Huang’s courtyard. Upon reaching the courtyard entrance, Hua Huang’s attendants had already come out to greet him, respectfully taking the reins.

“I wonder what arrangements Hua Huang has made?” Fucang asked in a low voice.

Unlike his cool and moon-like appearance, his voice was extremely alluring. The moment he opened his mouth, his deep and enchanting tone was like a soft feather brush gently stroking across one’s heart, making people swoon halfway over.

The attendants couldn’t help but blush, unable to answer his question for a long while.

Suddenly, a thunderous humming sound came from within the sea of clouds again. The overlapping cloud layers were mercilessly torn apart, and a magnificent golden carriage shuttled forward through the clouds. Painted upon it was precisely the totem of Zhongshan Longshen. Surrounding the carriage body was auspicious light for ten thousand miles, with attendants in a vast procession numbering no fewer than a hundred people.

When this vast procession landed in the pear blossom grove, the small flower grove suddenly seemed somewhat cramped, and the various deities had no choice but to make way one after another.

In front, thirty attendants carried bronze small buckets, using jade ladles to scoop water and sprinkle it on both sides of the road. In the middle, thirty female immortals held purple-gold incense burners. Blue smoke curled upward, and the elegant and cool fragrance almost covered the scent of pear blossoms.

Behind them, another thirty attendants laid down snow-white gossamer cloud brocade carpets all along the way. This carpet was woven from flowing clouds gathered by the weaver maidens of the Celestial River banks and further adorned with Celestial River beautiful jade. Even one foot of gossamer cloud carpet was extremely extravagant—for the little princess to actually use it to pave the road was truly too luxurious.

Following behind the long carriage, the final thirty female immortals held whisks, feather fans, treasure vases, and jade boxes. Additionally, two attendants carried enormous brocade umbrellas. Though the attendants were numerous, they were exceptionally quiet. All along the way with imposing momentum, they proceeded to the courtyard entrance, where the attendants dispersed to both sides and the long carriage came to a halt right in front of Fucang Shenjun.

“Even imperial daughters don’t have this kind of pageantry…”

The various deities whispered in dissatisfaction. Even if she was a princess of Zhongshan Longshen, to appear for the first time with such imposing momentum and a hundred attendants—was she trying to demonstrate that her status was unattainably high?

The carriage door opened with a creak. The umbrella-carrying attendants immediately opened the brocade umbrellas and waited on both sides. An attending female immortal respectfully bent her arm, and a slender hand rested upon it. All five fingernails were painted with bright red henna, which against the female immortal’s tender yellow sleeves made her skin appear even more like fresh snow.

The gazes of all the deities focused in unison on that soft hand—come out, little princess of Zhongshan Longshen, let’s see what appearance you possess to be so arrogant and extravagant!

A slender figure slowly descended from the magnificent golden carriage. The little princess wore a frost-colored long gown, densely patterned all over with countless dark gold closed-eyed dragons. Her jet-black long hair was adorned with golden rings, and aside from this, she wore no other ornaments—there was a kind of understated magnificence about her.

Her face was lowered in the shadow of the brocade umbrella, and the occasionally revealed arc of her cheek was full and tender. Supporting herself on the attending female immortal, she walked neither fast nor slow, every step appropriately graceful.

When she walked before Fucang Shenjun, the umbrella-carrying attendants and attending female immortals retreated three steps and knelt to pay respects. Only then did the various deities see the little princess of Zhongshan Longshen’s countenance for the first time, and the young goddesses suddenly all felt somewhat deflated.

The little princess’s complexion was extremely fair, which made her eyebrows and eyes appear even darker and her lips even more delicate and tender. Perhaps because of her noble birth, or perhaps because of her excessive pageantry, she possessed an inexplicable quality—like innocent charm, yet also like reserved nobility—making it so she would absolutely not fade into obscurity among the deities.

What’s more, she was so gracefully elegant, pure and without a speck of dust.

At ninety centuries of age, the little princess’s cheeks still retained a trace of childish fullness. Her expression was extremely calm, showing no inner emotions whatsoever. She met the gaze of the Fucang Shenjun opposite her openly, as if the young shenjun standing opposite with his divine bearing and handsome looks were merely a wooden figure with blurred features.

Shaking her sleeves, she bent at the waist in salute. The elegant and cool fragrance covered the entire Hua Huang immortal island.

“This humble one, of Zhongshan Longshen Zhuyin Clan, Xuan Yi, pays respects to Fucang Shenjun.”

Her voice was low and soft like the cool breeze of a summer night.