“If Sect Master Jinyue is unwilling, then so be it.” Hong Yan stood up, sneering coldly. “There’s no need for Sect Master Jinyue to concern himself with other matters.”

As she walked past Huan Zong, she stopped: “If being with the girl you like might damage your cultivation and prevent you from ascending, would you still be willing?”

“Being with her brings more happiness than ascending. If I didn’t have her, what meaning would ascending have?” Huan Zong cupped his hands in salute. “This junior appreciates the zhenren’s kind intentions, but please forgive this junior for being unable to accept.”

Hong Yan’s gaze changed several times as she looked at him—seeming angry, regretful, and wistful all at once. She turned her head and said coldly: “Think it over again. If you regret it, come find me.”

“This junior will not regret it.” Huan Zong’s answer was neither rushed nor slow, not like an impetuous young man eager to make vows, but more like a choice made after careful consideration.

Hong Yan ignored him and walked out of the great hall. Outside the hall, silvery moonlight spilled across the ground. A person stood outside—no one knew how long he’d been standing there. His gleaming bald head reflected the faint moonlight.

Seeing Hong Yan emerge, he raised his head: “Zhenren Hong Yan.”

“The night grows deep and the dew heavy. Why is the Master still here?” Hong Yan descended the steps, her red silk scarf dancing in the night wind, brilliant yet lonely.

“This humble monk was waiting for the zhenren to emerge.” Monk Yuanchen paid no mind to Hong Yan’s coldness. He followed behind Hong Yan. “Zhenren, although destiny configurations are determined by heavenly mandate, there are also times when they change. Perhaps Zhenren Zhong Xi’s destiny configuration has already shifted—who can say?”

Zhenren Hong Yan walked slowly forward, not speaking for a long time. Just when Yuanchen thought she wouldn’t respond, Hong Yan said: “Zhenren Zhong Xi’s destiny configuration involves the heavenly dao. When we divined his destiny configuration back then, Senior Brother and I spent a full ten-plus years in closed-door cultivation before we recovered our vital energy. For such a person, how could his destiny configuration change easily?”

“Perhaps the problem isn’t with Zhong Xi, but with our entire cultivation world.” Hong Yan raised her head, gazing at the night sky bright with moon and sparse with stars. “The heavenly dao won’t give our cultivation world another chance at ascension. Our struggles are useless.”

“Have you ever considered—what if someone with a destiny configuration similar to Zhenren Zhong Xi’s were to be born?” Yuanchen lowered his eyes, still maintaining his kind and benevolent appearance.

“Setting aside that such people are rare once in a thousand years, the fact is that those destined by heaven have weak destiny configurations in childhood and are prone to early death. If there truly were such a person, our entire cultivation world couldn’t possibly fail to notice.” The corners of Hong Yan’s mouth drooped slightly, appearing especially cold and detached. “If heavenly mandate were so easily changed, what would it be called heavenly mandate?”

Yuanchen seemed about to speak but hesitated. He looked at Hong Chen for a long while: “Zhenren Hong Chen, back then…”

“The night is deep.” Hong Chen had a pair of cold, clear eyes. The look in her eyes as she gazed at Yuanchen was like ice that wouldn’t melt. “Master, I take my leave.”

Yuanchen pressed his palms together: “Please.”

Hong Yan returned to the guest courtyard and saw several disciples still waiting for her in the yard: “In the future, if I return late, you need not wait for me. Rest early.”

“Yes.” Seeing this, the disciples withdrew respectfully.

Lian Qiao, walking at the very back, looked at her master whose face was like frost. She gathered her courage, stopped, and turned to face Hong Yan, saying to her: “Master, this disciple has a matter she wishes to report to Master.”

“Whatever it is, speak of it tomorrow.” Hong Yan frowned slightly. “Withdraw.”

“Yes…” The courage she had gathered vanished without a trace under Hong Yan’s cold gaze. She lowered her head and withdrew, her palms full of cold sweat.

On Mingjian Peak, Kong Hou sat on a boulder counting the spirit stones in the pouch, but no matter how she counted, there were only a few hundred inside. So why would Huan Zong, who was a walking treasure trove, specifically give her such a small sum of spirit stones?

When Huan Zong returned, he saw Kong Hou with her head lowered counting spirit stones. That earnest little appearance was so adorable it made Huan Zong’s heart melt.

“You’re back?” Kong Hou raised her head and looked at him with a smile, patting the empty space beside her. “Come sit.”

Huan Zong descended from his flying sword and sat down like Kong Hou had. “The exchange conference doesn’t officially start until the day after tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll take you to walk around Pei City.”

“Wonderful.” Kong Hou nodded, bringing the money pouch in her hand before Huan Zong and waving it. “Why did you give me these spirit stones?”

“These spirit stones…” Huan Zong smiled. “To me, they also have rather special meaning.”

Hearing that they had special meaning, Kong Hou put the pouch away without a second thought: “Then I must keep them well.”

Seeing her like this, Huan Zong couldn’t help but laugh. He leaned down and stole a kiss on her face.

Kong Hou covered her face, her cheeks slightly flushed, and buried her head in Huan Zong’s embrace.

The night was beautiful, a handsome man by her side—truly a wonderful thing worth a thousand gold pieces.

After sending the drowsy Kong Hou back to her room, when he came out, he encountered Wu Chuan.

Wu Chuan glanced at the courtyard where Kong Hou was staying, then looked at Huan Zong emerging from the courtyard. He silently turned his head, acting as if he’d seen nothing, and turned to leave. His footsteps grew faster and faster until he quickly disappeared from Huan Zong’s line of sight.

Huan Zong: “…”

When he returned to his own courtyard, Lin Hu, who had been waiting for a long time, handed him a stack of papers: “Young Master, all the materials on Pei City’s shops and streets are here. Take them and look through them slowly.” This material was detailed enough to categorize which restaurant had delicious food and which jewelry shop had the most novel designs.

“Thank you.” Huan Zong accepted the papers still fragrant with ink and entered his room.

Watching Huan Zong’s retreating figure, Lin Hu finally understood why the first few hundred years serving by the young master’s side had been so worry-free—it was all so he could be thoroughly tormented in the days to come.

All the tormenting saved up over the years was being used in these past one or two years.

When she woke up the next morning, Kong Hou was still somewhat confused—when had she fallen asleep last night? After washing up and getting dressed, she went out to see several senior brothers and sisters huddled behind the door, looking like they were watching a spectacle. She couldn’t help but quicken her pace, and sure enough, Huan Zong was standing outside the door.

Today’s Huan Zong was somewhat different from usual. Huan Zong normally wore plain white, but today, although he still wore a light-colored outer robe, the clothes had magnificent embroidered patterns. Even walking through a bustling crowd, he would be especially eye-catching.

Kong Hou jogged forward to his side and said softly: “Have you been waiting long?”

“Not at all, I just came out as well.” Huan Zong held her hand. “It’s still early, no rush.”

Kong Hou laughed softly and whispered in Huan Zong’s ear: “Your clothes today are very beautiful.”

The warmth in Huan Zong’s eyes deepened: “As long as you like them.”

The Yunhua Sect disciples hiding behind the door had complicated feelings.

“The two are already like this, yet Junior Sister still insists they’re good friends. Really…” Ling Hui clicked her tongue. “With Zhenren Zhong Xi’s outstanding appearance, dressed so magnificently, after strolling through the city today like this, who won’t know about the feelings between them?”

“Right.” Li Rou nodded. “Uncle-Master Ling Hui, I also think Zhenren Zhong Xi specially dressed up today.”

“Men, you know.” Ling Hui shook her head with emotion. “No matter how high their cultivation, no matter how cold their temperament, in front of the woman they like, they’ll also start to dress up. It’s human nature.”

“You know so much.” Li Rou looked at Ling Hui with admiration.

Ling Hui: “Not at all, not at all.”

It was all taught well by story books.

Pei City was a place rich in spiritual energy. Some wealthy independent cultivators would do everything possible to acquire property in Pei City and obtain Pei City residency. This was both a sacred place for cultivation and a symbol of status.

When independent cultivators gathered together and talked about where they came from, mentioning Pei City seemed to give them extra confidence.

Pei City’s prosperity needed no description. Kong Hou and Huan Zong walked side by side on the street. Listening to the voices around them, the hawking calls, she couldn’t help but say: “Huan Zong, shall we find somewhere to sit for a bit?”

“Alright.” Huan Zong held her hand and looked around. The materials Lin Hu gave him said there was a teahouse nearby where the storyteller could make very simple stories wonderfully interesting—where was it?

After walking just a few steps, he saw a sign hanging at the entrance of a nearby bookshop. It read: “Mutually Promised, Mutually Born has sold out, please wait for the next batch.”

“Miaobi Ke’s book is finally loved by many people.” Kong Hou’s cheerful voice said, “This is wonderful.” After coming to the cultivation world, Miaobi Ke’s books had given her much inspiration—it was just a pity that the story books he wrote never sold well. Now seeing that he finally received popularity, Kong Hou felt an indescribable happiness.

To her, Miaobi Ke was a friend she’d never met who accompanied her growth and accompanied her anxious, unsettled heart when she first arrived in the cultivation world.

“Mother, I want that one.” Not far away was a wood carving stall displaying many carved little dolls, each one adorably naive, surrounded by quite a few children.

Kong Hou couldn’t help but glance at the small stall several times. She remembered that one of Emperor Jing Hong’s daughters had many such exquisite dolls. When she was young, she’d envied them for so long and secretly molded several dolls from mud and placed them on the windowsill.

Unfortunately, those dolls were not only ugly—after being sun-dried, they would crack. She couldn’t paint beautiful features on their faces, much less dress them in pretty little clothes.

Huan Zong released Kong Hou’s hand, walked to the stall, and among a group of small children, bent down to select several of the most exquisite dolls and bought many sets of little clothes.

Seeing that Huan Zong was extraordinarily dressed, the stall owner took the money and said ingratiatingly: “Is the young master also buying for his precious pearl? Rest assured, these clothes are all sewn from the finest fabrics. Your daughter will definitely like them very much.”

“Precious pearl…” Huan Zong turned to look at Kong Hou, who was still waiting for him at the street corner, his eyes full of tenderness. “She is indeed my precious pearl.”

Holding the dolls he’d bought, he walked to Kong Hou’s side and placed the box containing the dolls in her hands: “Let’s go, my precious pearl.”

Kong Hou held the box, blinking eyes that had become somewhat teary, and teased: “Father, where is my mother?” She had heard Huan Zong’s conversation with the vendor crystal clear. What precious pearl—did he give birth to her or something?

“Your mother is in my eyes.” Huan Zong gazed at her tenderly.

Kong Hou saw her own clear reflection in his pupils. She snorted lightly: “Taking advantage of me.”

“To me, Kong Hou is my pearl, my beloved.” Huan Zong’s eyes were touched with starlight and smiles. “If you’re not my pearl, who is?”

Staring blankly at the man before her, Kong Hou hugged the wooden box tightly. She seemed to return to her childhood, when she was alone rolling up her sleeves, secretly hiding in the courtyard molding mud dolls, when suddenly a golden doll jumped out of the mud and told her he wanted to go home with her.

“I understand now.” She closed her eyes, her smile radiant as flowers. “Father Huan Zong, your precious pearl also wants hugs, piggyback rides, and to be lifted high—otherwise she won’t walk anymore.”

She was joking, but who knew Huan Zong would actually bend down and say to her: “Come, get on.”

There was a noisy crowd here, and streets covered with dust. But the beautiful man’s bent back made her forget everything.

—

**Author’s Note:** Kong Hou: Father, I want kisses, piggyback rides, hugs, and to be lifted high