Each autumn rain brings a chill. Though my heart lacks interest, the rain clings endlessly, silent as fireflies, drifting with the wind, wrinkling the Luoshui. I opened a white umbrella and sat by the window, taking up my colorful brush to paint the mountains and rivers of Suozhao on the umbrella. Yinze entered and observed me for a while before saying, “You are, after all, the spirit of Luoshui. Why do you like umbrellas?”

“Because they have charm,” I said smugly, like a cicada on a withered tree.

Yinze stood to one side without continuing the conversation. I’ve always loved making noise, and in the past, I would have spoken first to break the silence. I knew he was waiting for me to ask something. But for once, I was in a sullen mood and had no desire to continue the conversation. Sitting by the window listening to the rain and gently inhaling the osmanthus fragrance that spread for thousands of miles was better than offering a warm face to a cold shoulder. Finally, Yinze couldn’t endure it for the first time and said, “Wei’er, there’s a misunderstanding between us.”

“I have no misunderstanding—you’re the one who’s misunderstood,” I stopped my brush and let out a long breath. “You think I’m Shangyan’s reincarnation.”

He looked at me quietly, which was tantamount to acknowledgment. I said, “You’ve always treated me as Shangyan, but then you discovered she’s still alive. For a moment, you can’t figure out whether you like me or her.”

“Initially, I did think you were Shangyan’s reincarnation, but aside from your similar appearance, your personalities are nothing alike.”

“I know. After spending time together, you do have feelings for me, but you’ve never tried to separate me from her. Your initial attraction to me was also because of her.”

The longer his silence lasted, the more pain grew in my heart. But no matter how difficult it was, I didn’t let myself show it, only saying calmly, “It’s fine. If you want to save her, I support you. Even if only out of moral duty, you should do so. I won’t blame you, and I won’t leave you. After you save her and think things through, come back and give me your answer.”

“Wei’er…”

This was the first time I’d seen him so remorseful, and I didn’t understand myself either. Though I was already exhausted from sadness, why did I still feel sorry for him? When it comes to emotions, whoever falls in love first, whoever loves more, loses completely. Nine times out of ten, life doesn’t go as wished. After this experience, I finally understood that this relationship, which began too brilliantly, was truly just a reflection in flowers and moon in water. He is the Divine Lord Yinze—how could he so easily fall in love with an insignificant nobody like me? If possible, I truly wish I could save all the beautiful things—youthful years, innocent naivety, carefree days—for the end of life. If possible, I hoped to meet someone who would love me as I loved them at that time.

“I’ll wait for you to return.” I no longer knew how to address him, so I awkwardly avoided all forms of address. “No matter how complex your feelings for me are, my feelings for you remain simple and constant.”

Yinze seemed to want to say something, but perhaps he realized that more words would be futile, so he reached out to embrace me. I avoided his embrace, pretending to bend down to look at the painted umbrella. The fine rain fell like silk, splashing into the window frame and spreading ink stains on the umbrella. I said, “I’m just now realizing this umbrella really can’t be used. Since it’s painted with water ink, the ink will run when it gets wet.”

Yinze waved his hand and cast a spell, causing the water ink on the umbrella to solidify.

“This is much better.” I smiled, folded the umbrella, and handed it to Yinze. “This was originally meant for you anyway. Since you’ll never need to use it, you’ll certainly take good care of it.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re suddenly being so polite—I’m not used to it. Go rest. You’ll be departing early tomorrow morning, won’t you?”

Yinze came over, kissed my forehead, then turned and went back to his room. During this time, we had always shared the same bed. That night, I didn’t return to my chambers but moved all my clothes to the South Hall. Afterward, I went alone to the Luoshui to clear my mind, but encountered my brother. He flicked my forehead with his finger: “Wandering around alone at night—that’s not proper behavior for a good girl.”

I said, displeasedly, “Who told you to follow me?”

“With your spirits so low, how can I feel at ease leaving?”

“You should have come back earlier then.”

“That’s not something I get to decide. Besides, I don’t even know if my biological father is still willing to acknowledge me.”

“Then don’t worry about me—I’m in a bad mood.” The frustration I’d been holding in from Yinze had nowhere to go, so I took it all out on my brother.

But he had no sympathy for his sister, speaking without any consideration for my feelings: “I told you long ago that Master is our elder. You and he are from different eras—how can you talk about romance? This is trouble you brought on yourself. You’re reaping what you sowed, so don’t think about taking your anger out on me.”

“That’s right, Master’s seniority is quite impressive. Just think—even your mother likes him.”

My brother couldn’t stand such provocation and said righteously, “Nonsense! That must have been something my mother said deliberately to anger my father.”

“Whether it was said in anger or not, once she said it, she has to own it.”

My brother was displeased, his face stern as he extended his index finger and thumb to flick my forehead: “You little brat, you’re infuriating.”

I wasn’t polite at all, flicking his chin in return: “You’re the brat, big brother, and you don’t care about me at all.”

He was gentle with me, but I was rough with him, so the result was him covering his reddened chin, lips pressed into a line, enduring the pain with a face full of distress. After arguing for a while, he finally gave in to my complaint about “why are other people’s brothers so gentle and tender,” and laughed: “Are you feeling a bit better now?”

My face flushed slightly: “You can’t win an argument with me, so you pretend you were deliberately cheering me up. Shameless.”

My brother laughed for a while without confirming or denying it: “Actually, I know what you’re worried about.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, already on guard. He said, “You’re afraid Master will run off with my mother. Though my interactions with my mother were when I was young, I remember very clearly that every time my father was mentioned, she would only cry without speaking. She loves my father deeply, so she definitely wouldn’t truly be with Master.”

I smiled bitterly. My brother still didn’t understand me. Even if Shangyan didn’t like Yinze, so what? Countless women liked Yinze but couldn’t have him—I had once been one of them—but the person he favored had always been only one. However, just as I was thinking this, my brother spoke as if he could read my thoughts: “Even if Master doesn’t want you, you still have me.”

I looked at him, bewildered: “Brother…?”

Being looked at so directly, he became embarrassed instead: “You’ve probably forgotten what I said before. Since leaving Suozhao to become a disciple, one of my greatest wishes has been to become an immortal lord. But before that, I had only one wish.” The breeze played with the azure waves, teasing the green lotus, and also stirred my brother’s robes. A small boat rocked gently by the shore in deep repose, moonlight illuminating the water’s edge and falling into his clear eyes. At this moment, I suddenly realized his gaze was much easier to read than Yinze’s, and much purer too. He turned his head away, his ears turning red: “As a child, I only wanted to marry Weiwei.”

I knew my brother’s words were sincere, without any other thoughts mixed in. Yinze had also made marriage promises to me once. But now, I couldn’t bear to think about it carefully. Before I could answer, my brother continued: “Weiwei, I’m not telling you this expecting a response. I just want you to know that I understand this path you’re walking isn’t easy. But no matter how much pain and exhaustion you endure, as long as you turn around, you’ll immediately see me.”

I turned away, using magic to play with the water in the Luoshui, making water droplets dance like butterflies in the moonlight. Suozhao truly lived up to its nickname “Moon City.” No matter how many years passed, the moonlight here never changed. The moonlit nights of Suozhao were no less beautiful than any fine scenery in the immortal realm.

I remember when we were young, my brother and I and other friends often came here to play. My brother was even more reserved then than now, very antisocial, always crouching alone in a corner reading. Only when I dragged him would he reluctantly join us. I often felt this brother was like a sister, not only prettier than girls but also more bashful than them.

In the blink of an eye, my brother had become the Immortal Lord Tianheng, young and accomplished, full of heroic vigor—truly a far cry from before. Compared to Yinze, he was so much more suitable for me. It’s just that I only had room for one Yinze in my heart. If I were to be with my brother at such a time, that would truly be unfair to him.

I drew some water from the Luoshui and splashed it on my brother. He dodged but couldn’t avoid it completely, getting water droplets on his face and temples. I said, “Why should I choose you? How are you better than Yinze? He’s better looking than you and more capable.”

“I’m younger than him,” my brother said, completely unstimulated, even confidently adding, “By over seven thousand years.”

I laughed so hard I squatted on the ground, leaving him standing somewhat awkwardly in place. Though I felt no romantic love for him, I knew no one in this world could take his place. I also knew that after our parents died, he was the only one who would stay with me, through dust storms in the Eastern Sea, through wind and rain, never leaving me forever.

The next day, my brother and Yinze left Suozhao together. I only saw them off to the Luoshui before preparing to watch them depart. Before leaving, my brother said to me, “From now on, don’t run out alone at night,” then waved and followed Yinze. Yinze didn’t use magic to block the rain but instead held the umbrella I had made for him. He turned back in the rain, gave me one final indifferent look, swept his sleeves, and disappeared into the rain with my brother.

This was the last rain in Suozhao for decades. On my way back to Zichao Palace, I heard a Suozhao woman holding a konghou, dancing in the air, singing softly:

Once you and I knew each other’s hearts, now you and I are like wild geese parting. Once you and I faced each other day and night, now you and I walk as strangers. Once you and I listened to rain sharing a bed, now you and I are worlds apart…

The song was mournful, making one’s heart ache involuntarily. This inexplicable melancholy in the autumn rain gave me an almost desperate premonition: after Yinze left, he would probably never return.

However, the reality was even worse than I had imagined.

After they left, I heard countless rumors about the war between gods and demons. What I could confirm was: Divine Lord Yinze had broken into the demon realm and rescued Zhaohua Ji. Demon Lord Zixiu flew into a rage and led his armies in full force, crossing the divine-demon chasm to attack the divine realm. Since Zixiu’s battle was impulsive, the demon realm was always at a disadvantage, so in just one month, the war ended with the demon realm’s defeat.

But two months after the war, I still hadn’t waited for Yinze’s return.

I thought perhaps Yinze had fought so hard to save Shangyan that she was truly moved and they had found happiness together. With Shangyan, he naturally no longer needed me. As the days passed, my mood grew heavier and heavier. I planned to wait for the day when only my brother returned to throw myself into his arms and cry. I exhausted my mind guessing countless possibilities, but never imagined that the person who wouldn’t return wasn’t only Yinze.

No, to be precise, my brother did return, just not in the way I had expected.

Three months later, as early winter arrived with swirling snow, I heard news of Divine Lord Lingyin’s visit. Wrapped in a fur coat, I flew to the outskirts of Luoshui to join my second sister and the people of the Suozhao clan in welcoming his arrival. Then, before the thousands of kneeling people, a coffin covered with accumulated snow was slowly brought forward.

I had been bowing, but seeing this scene, I slowly straightened my back and took two steps forward.

I saw Divine Lord Lingyin speak a few words with my second sister, then walk over to me, looking at me gravely: “After the war began, he didn’t know whether to help his father or mother. Zixiu tried to kidnap Shangyan, and Yinze attacked Zixiu with ‘Ice Dispersal Divine Scatter.’ He went to block that attack for his father and died on the spot.”

The blood in my head and limbs flowed backward. I felt dizzy, and the roaring wind and snow before me flickered bright and dark. That cold coffin swayed in my vision. I said hoarsely, “That’s impossible.”

Divine Lord Lingyin glanced at me, paused, seeming reluctant to continue: “Also, because of this incident, the Heavenly Emperor discovered demon clan blood in his body. And though he saved Zixiu’s life, which is understandable emotionally, it violated heavenly law. Therefore, his remains cannot enter the immortal realm’s ancestral shrine and can only be sent back here.”

Hearing this, my second sister covered her mouth, tears falling in large drops, then buried her head in Kongshu’s embrace: “Chenzhi, how could it be Chenzhi… my little brother…”

“Impossible, impossible…”

As if I could only say these words, I rushed forward and forcefully pushed open the coffin lid. Then, seeing the person lying inside, I was completely stunned. Divine Lord Lingyin sighed: “Life and death are fated. Please accept my condolences.”

The last time I saw him was only three months ago, when he was laughing and talking with me by this very Luoshui. All my worries then were about whether Yinze would return—I never thought about whether my brother would return. How could I have imagined that his ordinary words, “from now on, don’t run out alone at night,” would be the last words he’d ever say to me in this life?

“Brother…” I tugged at the corner of his clothes. “Brother…”

The person in the coffin didn’t move. Flames seemed to burn in my chest, ready to explode at any moment. Suppressing that breath, I pushed him hard several times: “Brother… wake up, wake up…”

Still no movement. He wore an immortal lord’s battle robes, his beloved sword still in his arms, his black hair like a raven’s, eyes gently closed, long lashes drooping. His young skin was as taut as always—he didn’t look at all like someone whose life had ended. I reached out with trembling fingers to touch his cheek, but was startled by the bone-chilling cold and quickly pulled my hand back.

At this moment, even breathing became extraordinarily difficult. I couldn’t say another word. Supporting myself on the coffin’s edge, I closed my eyes and frowned, trying to regain clarity. Impossible—this couldn’t be real. My brother had only gone to save his mother. He had promised me he would always stay with me. He was still so young, with a bright future ahead of him. He was so young that I never feared he would wait too long for me, because he had so much time to wait.

Opening my eyes again, they burned with pain, tears nearly melting my eyeballs. My head spun, and I felt trapped in the world’s most terrible nightmare. But the frost and snow fell piece by piece on his black hair, the air was ice cold, yet it was so real. I wanted to touch his face again, but just before my fingers reached his skin, hot liquid surged up from my chest, stopping my movement. I bent over, unable to suppress it any longer, and spat out a mouthful of fresh blood!

“Little Princess!”

“Weiwei!!”

My second sister and others rushed to support me. At the same time, my lower abdomen began to ache severely. I clutched my stomach, lying in my second sister’s arms, grasping her fur collar, sobbing uncontrollably: “Second sister… cough, I want him back. I really can’t do without him… brother… he can’t be gone…”

“Weiwei, Weiwei, are you alright?” My second sister’s face went white with fear. “Imperial physician, quickly call the imperial physician! There’s so much blood flowing from below!!”

Looking down at the sound, I discovered not only was there blood on my chest, but the snow around me was bright red, flowing from below my body. But I no longer cared about these things.

“Even if Master doesn’t want you, you still have me.”

“As a child, I only wanted to marry Weiwei.”

Last time, he was here, saying these words to me. He could still laugh, get angry, blush, and reach out to flick my forehead. Looking up at the coffin ahead, I pushed away my second sister’s embrace and used my last bit of strength to use water magic to move him from the coffin into my arms.

That corpse was ice cold and stiff, completely different from the touch of the past. Heavy snow fell on both of us. I held his head, wanting to call his name one last time, but my body couldn’t bear it. My vision went black, and I collapsed on top of him.

I had always believed you wouldn’t leave. But I didn’t expect this to be just an illusion.

“Your Majesty, the Little Princess is three months pregnant.” In my unconsciousness, I vaguely heard someone say this.