As expected, Shenjun Wu Hui acted as if he hadn’t heard and smilingly invited the three of them to the other side. Chi Di and Chi Di’s wife rose with smiles to welcome them. The wife was especially kind and amiable, grasping FucChapter 68: Sunset Glow Reflecting on Chengjiang Lake

As expected, Shenjun Wu Hui acted as if he hadn’t heard and smilingly invited the three of them to the other side. Chi Di and Chi Di’s wife rose with smiles to welcome them. The wife was especially kind and amiable, grasping Fucang’s hand and saying gently: “This child Yan Xia is willful and mischievous. Even while undergoing tribulation in the mortal realm she couldn’t stay out of trouble, causing you all so much inconvenience. We heard that Fucang Shenjun’s sword awakening this time was also to protect our little daughter—it really makes us both gratified and terribly apologetic.”

She then grasped Xuan Yi’s and Zhi Xi’s hands, looking them over with a face full of affection.

Chi Di was normally stern and unsmiling, but was extremely gentle with his wife. He said warmly: “Ah Xiu, there will be plenty of opportunities to talk in the future. Today Fucang Shenjun is the host—we shouldn’t delay him too long.”

The couple and their eldest son together raised their cups in thanks, toasting three times in succession. This time Xuan Yi had to drink whether she wanted to or not. She downed three consecutive cups of Luofu Spring. The wine tasted incredibly strange, and she couldn’t very well show that she couldn’t handle it. In her heart, she didn’t know how many times she cursed Qi Nan.

Across from them, Wu Hui smiled: “My little sister has been spoiled since childhood. She acted willfully and offended many in the Hall of Clarity. Please don’t hold it against her.”

Hey, this older brother was really quite good. He looked sickly, but he didn’t have to spend all his time in the Northern Heavens in a Thousand-Year Dream with no news, nor would he just up and leave, only seeing her a few brief times over thousands of years.

Xuan Yi slowly looked around, then saw Chi Di smiling as he conversed with Fucang. This father was also good—he didn’t lock himself in the Hall of Eternal Life all day ignoring everything, nor would he philander around and cause his own wife’s death.

Over there, Chi Di’s wife held Zhi Xi’s hand warmly and intimately. This mother… ah, mother.

Xuan Yi suddenly felt dispirited. She turned to look for Qi Nan again. He was still talking with Qing Di and the other Dijuns. Was he really not going to pay attention to her anymore?

Her head was dizzy and foggy. Hoping the cold wind would clear it, she quietly left the Pale Moon Pavilion.

The misty moisture over Chengjiang Lake had completely dissipated with the gradually brilliant afternoon sunlight. The waves seemed to be scattered with dazzling golden flakes that made her head spin even more, and her eyes hurt. She rubbed a snowball and placed it on her forehead, then turned to fly toward the shaded area. Suddenly she heard a loud splash from the lake—the two golden carp raised by the previous Qing Di had leaped out of the water to play.

These two golden carp were much more beautiful than that catfish demon from last time.

With a turn of her wrist, she pulled out a ball of white snow and began molding a golden carp. After a moment, the sound of footsteps on grass approached from far to near. Too lazy to lift her head, she simply said: “Qi Nan, you finally remembered me.”

The footsteps stopped beside the wicker chair but didn’t answer. Xuan Yi’s gaze fell on the verdant grass. These shoes didn’t seem to be Qi Nan’s. She looked up along the dark blue robe and met Fucang’s deep black eyes.

He was carrying a food box in his hand. He held it out to her with just one simple word: “Eat.”

Xuan Yi turned her head away disdainfully: “I don’t like your family’s food.”

Fucang let out a breath and crouched down to open the food box. Inside was a row of agate and white jade cakes, a row of peach blossom hundred-fruit cakes, and a pot of Radiant Splendor tea. He said coolly: “So you don’t like my family’s tea and pastries either?”

Xuan Yi grabbed his sleeve, utterly serious: “I do like them.”

An involuntary smile appeared on his face. He poured the Radiant Splendor tea into a white jade cup and placed it in her hand.

Xuan Yi took a light sip of tea, then picked up a peach blossom hundred-fruit cake. Good tea, good cakes. How strange—perhaps because she was in a bad mood, she actually didn’t feel like quarreling with him. She’d let him off for now.

“Why didn’t the Young Dragon Lord come?” Fucang remembered that when writing the invitations, he had specifically included the Young Dragon Lord’s name in the invitation.

Xuan Yi said coolly: “He returned to the Northern Heavens to continue his Thousand-Year Dream cultivation.”

So her older brother had come and gone in a hurry—no wonder she looked so dim. Fucang simply sat down on the grass and reached out to take some tea cakes as well, when she suddenly blocked him: “They’re all mine.”

He immediately remembered the extremely bitter Zhuyin White Snow Shrimp from last time, and his wrist trembled again. Today he had also drunk quite a bit of wine—to avoid another ridiculous incident like last time, he decided not to compete with her.

The golden carp in Chengjiang Lake were still playing and tumbling about. Xuan Yi stared blankly for a long while, the snowball perched on her forehead. Her head wasn’t dizzy anymore, but her heart was dizzy. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Fucang still sitting beside her, so she said: “Fucang Shixiong, why haven’t you left yet? Aren’t you the host today?”

Fucang gave a faint “Mm” but didn’t answer.

Xuan Yi continued: “Then take me for a tour. This lake water is hurting my eyes—quickly find somewhere nice to look at that’s darker.”

Fucang stood up and grasped the armrest of the wicker chair, giving it a gentle pull, and she moved along with it.

Xuan Yi laughed happily: “Go over there, over there.” She pointed toward the small wooded path across the way where tree shadows overlapped.

Fucang said coolly: “That’s the garden. All the flowers have withered this season—there’s nothing to see.”

Xuan Yi paid him no mind and twisted his sleeve into a rope: “Hurry up, let’s go!”

Fucang extracted his poor sleeve and glanced at her with something close to helplessness. This Dragon Princess seemed to be drunk—three cups of Luofu Spring and she was drunk. Such a low tolerance was the first he’d seen in his life. She still had a snowball perched on her forehead, wobbling unsteadily—it was actually somewhat cute. He reached out to take it, and she surprisingly wasn’t angry. She was extremely magnanimous: “That old one is a gift for you. You’re welcome.”

Having said this, she molded a new one and perched it on her forehead again.

Fucang couldn’t help but laugh. Shaking his head, he pulled her into the small wooded path.

The Huaxu Clan was not given to extravagance. There were no exotic flowers competing for beauty in the garden, nor any magnificent and luxurious pavilions and towers. Below a water pavilion platform, many flowering trees had been planted. Now that winter had not yet passed, most of the flowering trees were bare branches without blossoms—only on the east side were several beds of apricot blossoms blooming as splendidly as clouds and brocade.

Xuan Yi pointed that way: “Aren’t those flowers? Let’s go—let’s go admire the flowers.”

Fucang said: “Those are the Immortal Apricot trees I planted when I was five thousand years old. They’re not ordinary common varieties. They bloomed two years ago and haven’t withered yet.”

Planted when he was five thousand years old—so how old were the trees now? Xuan Yi’s mind was foggy, and for a moment she couldn’t calculate it, her fingers flying as she counted on them.

“Twenty-five thousand years.” Fucang calculated it for her.

Xuan Yi stared at him with an expression of utter shock: “So old!”

Old? Fucang’s brow furrowed, but he heard her continue: “That’s three times my age. When I’m a hundred thousand years old, they’ll be three hundred thousand years old.”

…Her arithmetic was truly breathtakingly, earth-shatteringly, and ghost-wailingly brilliant.

He didn’t bother with her drunken nonsense and pulled her into the apricot grove. Some of these Immortal Apricot blossoms were pure white like fresh snow, while others were bright and gorgeous like morning clouds. Red and white intertwined, the blossoms as large as palms, hanging in heavy clusters from the branches.

Fucang found a quiet spot beneath a tree. Servants tending the garden had already brought cloud-silk rugs and added fresh tea and pastries. Xuan Yi felt like half her body was sinking into the soft cloud-silk rug. This rug was actually made much more comfortably than the ones at her home—clearly the weaving maidens were playing favorites.

This spot was slightly higher than Chengjiang Lake. At a glance, besides the profusion of flourishing apricot blossoms, there was also the dazzling golden light on the lake surface. In the distance, Taishan was dark green and majestic, with half of the golden-topped Qing Di Palace sunken into clouds and mist.

Xuan Yi stared fixedly for a long while, then suddenly asked softly: “Fucang Shixiong, now that the Huaxu Clan’s sword has awakened, will you be even more formidable with swords and weapons?”

Why did this Dragon Princess still say such heart-wrenching things even when drunk? Fucang leaned back against the apricot tree, his tone indifferent: “That’s right—one sword stroke and you’ll have no hair left.”

She hurriedly gathered all her hair inside her clothing. Qing Yan had gone to the Northern Heavens—if he really wanted to cut off her hair, she would be completely helpless. In her panic, the snowball on her head fell. She reached out to pick it up, but Fucang had already grabbed it first. He gently placed it on her forehead, lowered his eyelashes to look for a moment, and his eyes revealed that warmth she found terrifying.

Xuan Yi closed her eyes, but felt his fingers touch her forehead to remove a fallen flower petal for her.

She slowly lay down and buried her face in the soft cloud-silk rug. After a very long time, she asked in a small voice: “Then… will you also have to enter a Thousand-Year Dream?”

Fucang looked down at her. A trace of something almost like loneliness flashed through her eyes. He suddenly felt a slight pain in his chest, as if that day when he was caught in the illusion and Chun Jun pierced through his heart—except that time it had been ice-cold, whereas this moment, it was burning hot.

“…No rush.” He answered in a low voice.

She smiled at him and pushed the food box toward him: “Feed me.”

Fucang found it both amusing and startling. What had he just said?

Rays of sunset glow gradually devoured the horizon. The distant Chengjiang Lake reflected brilliant colors. The Dragon Princess on the cloud-silk rug finally succumbed to the wine’s power and fell into deep sleep, covered in fallen petals.

He slowly pulled out the hair she had tucked inside her clothing and combed it with his hand.

So it turned out that the most fatal thing in these vast wilds and eight directions was never any soul-bewitching illusion or open and covert struggles, nor the endless days that were long and empty. The most fatal thing was being deeply attracted to something you clearly despised.

ang’s hand and saying gently: “This child Yan Xia is willful and mischievous. Even while undergoing tribulation in the mortal realm she couldn’t stay out of trouble, causing you all so much inconvenience. We heard that Fucang Shenjun’s sword awakening this time was also to protect our little daughter—it really makes us both gratified and terribly apologetic.”

She then grasped Xuan Yi’s and Zhi Xi’s hands, looking them over with a face full of affection.

Chi Di was normally stern and unsmiling, but was extremely gentle with his wife. He said warmly: “Ah Xiu, there will be plenty of opportunities to talk in the future. Today Fucang Shenjun is the host—we shouldn’t delay him too long.”

The couple and their eldest son together raised their cups in thanks, toasting three times in succession. This time Xuan Yi had to drink whether she wanted to or not. She downed three consecutive cups of Luofu Spring. The wine tasted incredibly strange, and she couldn’t very well show that she couldn’t handle it. In her heart, she didn’t know how many times she cursed Qi Nan.

Across from them, Wu Hui smiled: “My little sister has been spoiled since childhood. She acted willfully and offended many in the Hall of Clarity. Please don’t hold it against her.”

Hey, this older brother was really quite good. He looked sickly, but he didn’t have to spend all his time in the Northern Heavens in a Thousand-Year Dream with no news, nor would he just up and leave, only seeing her a few brief times over thousands of years.

Xuan Yi slowly looked around, then saw Chi Di smiling as he conversed with Fucang. This father was also good—he didn’t lock himself in the Hall of Eternal Life all day ignoring everything, nor would he philander around and cause his own wife’s death.

Over there, Chi Di’s wife held Zhi Xi’s hand warmly and intimately. This mother… ah, mother.

Xuan Yi suddenly felt dispirited. She turned to look for Qi Nan again. He was still talking with Qing Di and the other Dijuns. Was he really not going to pay attention to her anymore?

Her head was dizzy and foggy. Hoping the cold wind would clear it, she quietly left the Pale Moon Pavilion.

The misty moisture over Chengjiang Lake had completely dissipated with the gradually brilliant afternoon sunlight. The waves seemed to be scattered with dazzling golden flakes that made her head spin even more, and her eyes hurt. She rubbed a snowball and placed it on her forehead, then turned to fly toward the shaded area. Suddenly she heard a loud splash from the lake—the two golden carp raised by the previous Qing Di had leaped out of the water to play.

These two golden carp were much more beautiful than that catfish demon from last time.

With a turn of her wrist, she pulled out a ball of white snow and began molding a golden carp. After a moment, the sound of footsteps on grass approached from far to near. Too lazy to lift her head, she simply said: “Qi Nan, you finally remembered me.”

The footsteps stopped beside the wicker chair but didn’t answer. Xuan Yi’s gaze fell on the verdant grass. These shoes didn’t seem to be Qi Nan’s. She looked up along the dark blue robe and met Fucang’s deep black eyes.

He was carrying a food box in his hand. He held it out to her with just one simple word: “Eat.”

Xuan Yi turned her head away disdainfully: “I don’t like your family’s food.”

Fucang let out a breath and crouched down to open the food box. Inside was a row of agate and white jade cakes, a row of peach blossom hundred-fruit cakes, and a pot of Radiant Splendor tea. He said coolly: “So you don’t like my family’s tea and pastries either?”

Xuan Yi grabbed his sleeve, utterly serious: “I do like them.”

An involuntary smile appeared on his face. He poured the Radiant Splendor tea into a white jade cup and placed it in her hand.

Xuan Yi took a light sip of tea, then picked up a peach blossom hundred-fruit cake. Good tea, good cakes. How strange—perhaps because she was in a bad mood, she actually didn’t feel like quarreling with him. She’d let him off for now.

“Why didn’t the Young Dragon Lord come?” Fucang remembered that when writing the invitations, he had specifically included the Young Dragon Lord’s name in the invitation.

Xuan Yi said coolly: “He returned to the Northern Heavens to continue his Thousand-Year Dream cultivation.”

So her older brother had come and gone in a hurry—no wonder she looked so dim. Fucang simply sat down on the grass and reached out to take some tea cakes as well, when she suddenly blocked him: “They’re all mine.”

He immediately remembered the extremely bitter Zhuyin White Snow Shrimp from last time, and his wrist trembled again. Today he had also drunk quite a bit of wine—to avoid another ridiculous incident like last time, he decided not to compete with her.

The golden carp in Chengjiang Lake were still playing and tumbling about. Xuan Yi stared blankly for a long while, the snowball perched on her forehead. Her head wasn’t dizzy anymore, but her heart was dizzy. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Fucang still sitting beside her, so she said: “Fucang Shixiong, why haven’t you left yet? Aren’t you the host today?”

Fucang gave a faint “Mm” but didn’t answer.

Xuan Yi continued: “Then take me for a tour. This lake water is hurting my eyes—quickly find somewhere nice to look at that’s darker.”

Fucang stood up and grasped the armrest of the wicker chair, giving it a gentle pull, and she moved along with it.

Xuan Yi laughed happily: “Go over there, over there.” She pointed toward the small wooded path across the way where tree shadows overlapped.

Fucang said coolly: “That’s the garden. All the flowers have withered this season—there’s nothing to see.”

Xuan Yi paid him no mind and twisted his sleeve into a rope: “Hurry up, let’s go!”

Fucang extracted his poor sleeve and glanced at her with something close to helplessness. This Dragon Princess seemed to be drunk—three cups of Luofu Spring and she was drunk. Such a low tolerance was the first he’d seen in his life. She still had a snowball perched on her forehead, wobbling unsteadily—it was actually somewhat cute. He reached out to take it, and she surprisingly wasn’t angry. She was extremely magnanimous: “That old one is a gift for you. You’re welcome.”

Having said this, she molded a new one and perched it on her forehead again.

Fucang couldn’t help but laugh. Shaking his head, he pulled her into the small wooded path.

The Huaxu Clan was not given to extravagance. There were no exotic flowers competing for beauty in the garden, nor any magnificent and luxurious pavilions and towers. Below a water pavilion platform, many flowering trees had been planted. Now that winter had not yet passed, most of the flowering trees were bare branches without blossoms—only on the east side were several beds of apricot blossoms blooming as splendidly as clouds and brocade.

Xuan Yi pointed that way: “Aren’t those flowers? Let’s go—let’s go admire the flowers.”

Fucang said: “Those are the Immortal Apricot trees I planted when I was five thousand years old. They’re not ordinary common varieties. They bloomed two years ago and haven’t withered yet.”

Planted when he was five thousand years old—so how old were the trees now? Xuan Yi’s mind was foggy, and for a moment she couldn’t calculate it, her fingers flying as she counted on them.

“Twenty-five thousand years.” Fucang calculated it for her.

Xuan Yi stared at him with an expression of utter shock: “So old!”

Old? Fucang’s brow furrowed, but he heard her continue: “That’s three times my age. When I’m a hundred thousand years old, they’ll be three hundred thousand years old.”

…Her arithmetic was truly breathtakingly, earth-shatteringly, and ghost-wailingly brilliant.

He didn’t bother with her drunken nonsense and pulled her into the apricot grove. Some of these Immortal Apricot blossoms were pure white like fresh snow, while others were bright and gorgeous like morning clouds. Red and white intertwined, the blossoms as large as palms, hanging in heavy clusters from the branches.

Fucang found a quiet spot beneath a tree. Servants tending the garden had already brought cloud-silk rugs and added fresh tea and pastries. Xuan Yi felt like half her body was sinking into the soft cloud-silk rug. This rug was actually made much more comfortably than the ones at her home—clearly the weaving maidens were playing favorites.

This spot was slightly higher than Chengjiang Lake. At a glance, besides the profusion of flourishing apricot blossoms, there was also the dazzling golden light on the lake surface. In the distance, Taishan was dark green and majestic, with half of the golden-topped Qing Di Palace sunken into clouds and mist.

Xuan Yi stared fixedly for a long while, then suddenly asked softly: “Fucang Shixiong, now that the Huaxu Clan’s sword has awakened, will you be even more formidable with swords and weapons?”

Why did this Dragon Princess still say such heart-wrenching things even when drunk? Fucang leaned back against the apricot tree, his tone indifferent: “That’s right—one sword stroke and you’ll have no hair left.”

She hurriedly gathered all her hair inside her clothing. Qing Yan had gone to the Northern Heavens—if he really wanted to cut off her hair, she would be completely helpless. In her panic, the snowball on her head fell. She reached out to pick it up, but Fucang had already grabbed it first. He gently placed it on her forehead, lowered his eyelashes to look for a moment, and his eyes revealed that warmth she found terrifying.

Xuan Yi closed her eyes, but felt his fingers touch her forehead to remove a fallen flower petal for her.

She slowly lay down and buried her face in the soft cloud-silk rug. After a very long time, she asked in a small voice: “Then… will you also have to enter a Thousand-Year Dream?”

Fucang looked down at her. A trace of something almost like loneliness flashed through her eyes. He suddenly felt a slight pain in his chest, as if that day when he was caught in the illusion and Chun Jun pierced through his heart—except that time it had been ice-cold, whereas this moment, it was burning hot.

“…No rush.” He answered in a low voice.

She smiled at him and pushed the food box toward him: “Feed me.”

Fucang found it both amusing and startling. What had he just said?

Rays of sunset glow gradually devoured the horizon. The distant Chengjiang Lake reflected brilliant colors. The Dragon Princess on the cloud-silk rug finally succumbed to the wine’s power and fell into deep sleep, covered in fallen petals.

He slowly pulled out the hair she had tucked inside her clothing and combed it with his hand.

So it turned out that the most fatal thing in these vast wilds and eight directions was never any soul-bewitching illusion or open and covert struggles, nor the endless days that were long and empty. The most fatal thing was being deeply attracted to something you clearly despised.