When Yuan Zhong opened his eyes, the sky was already adorned with vibrant, glowing clouds of sunset.
He was lying over the wooden table and slightly lifted his head. Tan Yin sat beside him, carefully carving a simple, rustic wooden bracelet. The glow of the setting sun reflected on her youthful face, softening the fine hairs on her skin and the stray strands of hair that had fallen near her neck, making her seem less like a lofty goddess.
Yuan Zhong gazed at her for a long while before reaching out tentatively to gently touch her pale cheek. Her skin felt cool and soft under his fingertips.
"Awake?" Tan Yin continued carving the bracelet without looking up.
Yuan Zhong noted how her appearance was that of a fifteen-year-old girl, yet she spoke and acted with the demeanor of someone far older, like an 80-year-old. She had always been like this since he met her—whether smiling or speaking, she never displayed the liveliness of a young girl, nor the polished grace of a well-bred lady. Instead, she was often quiet and, at times, adorably awkward. Yuan Zhong couldn’t help but laugh softly.
“How old are you?” he asked, his voice still lazy from sleep.
Tan Yin hadn’t expected the sudden question and immediately lowered her head to seriously calculate. “Seventeen years as a mortal, then four hundred and fifteen years wandering as a soul, and five thousand and twelve years as a goddess... Hmm, altogether that’s…”
“An old granny,” Yuan Zhong interrupted, concluding with a smirk before she could finish.
Not knowing how to refute the "granny" label, Tan Yin stared at him, stunned. His beautiful eyes, still hazy from sleep, sparkled with a moist, enchanting glow, framed by his long and thick eyelashes. His gaze was both warm and flirtatious, with an irresistible allure she couldn’t quite describe.
“Tan Yin,” he called softly.
“…Yes?”
“Don’t leave again,” he said, flicking her forehead lightly. “Next time, I won’t wait.”
Tan Yin felt as though she were being drawn in by the vibrant, mysterious colors in his eyes. She murmured, “Then… where will you go?”
He smiled. “I’m not telling you.”
She wanted to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. The fire in the brazier was burning brightly, filling the room with a warm, sweet fragrance. She felt as though her entire body was soaking in warmth. Her thoughts of tribulation, her impending fall, even Tai He seemed distant, so far away that in this moment, only Yuan Zhong’s presence, his voice, and his breath filled the world. The endless mountains, the vast wilderness—there was only her and him.
Yuan Zhong took the bracelet from her hands and began to fiddle with it. The wooden bracelet, though far from exquisite, was made of camphor wood. Four small, transparent crystals were embedded into its surface, glowing with a faint white light. Apart from that, it was nothing extraordinary.
“What’s this?” Yuan Zhong thought she had crafted something strange again.
Tan Yin took the bracelet back, polishing its rough edges and wiping it clean with a handkerchief before slipping it onto her wrist. Instantly, the divine light that surrounded her faded away, and the aura of reverence and divine power that Yuan Zhong had sensed vanished completely. In that moment, Ji Tan Yin appeared no different from any ordinary mortal.
“It’s to avoid being detected when walking around outside,” she explained with a smile. “In truth, once one becomes a god, we shouldn’t have any contact with the mortal realm. I’ve already broken many rules.”
Yuan Zhong scoffed. “What rules? What nonsense about no contact with the mortal realm? In ancient times, the Youhu clan and the war ghosts even served the gods.”
“That was during the ancient times,” Tan Yin shook her head. “After the war between gods and demons, everything changed.”
Yuan Zhong propped his head on his hand, intrigued. “Tell me about the divine realm. How did you become a goddess?”
Tan Yin smiled. “At the time, I never imagined I’d become a goddess…”
She was the last living member of the Ji family, renowned craftsmen. After she died, the Ji family was wiped out completely. Her soul couldn’t cross the Naihe Bridge and wandered for days beside her own corpse. She saw many people during that time—the wealthy nobles and royals who had once offered fortunes in gold to buy one of her Linglong Houses, and the neighbors she had been on friendly terms with. All of them said the same thing: that the Ji family had been cursed by the heavens, punished for creating things that defied the natural order. This was why they had all perished, even down to the youngest member—her.
Perhaps her inability to cross the Naihe Bridge, and her wandering in the mortal realm, was also part of the divine punishment. What about her father? And the rest of her family? Were their souls too drifting restlessly in the mortal realm like hers?
At first, her soul was trapped in the ruins of the Ji family home, unable to leave the immediate area. She spent her days hiding in the shadows, for sunlight burned her soul as if she were being scorched by fire. Time blurred, and gradually, she found herself able to leave the house. Eventually, she could even appear in sunlight without pain, and she learned to use her thoughts to move small objects like pebbles and twigs.
In the ashes of her family’s home, she used twigs to draw countless designs. There were so many things she wanted to create. She wasn’t afraid of death, and death couldn’t extinguish her love for craftsmanship.
Then, one day, everything became clear. A golden light descended from the heavens, and the primordial gods summoned her to the upper realm. She was granted divinity and became the peerless artisan—Wu Shuang Shen Nu, the unparalleled goddess.
“When I first ascended to the divine realm, I didn’t know anyone, so I wandered around aimlessly. Eventually, I found myself by the Celestial River and encountered... well…” Tan Yin paused, uncertain. For some reason, she didn’t want to mention Tai He to Yuan Zhong. Feeling a bit guilty, she skipped over that part and continued, “There was golden sand in the Celestial River, so the first thing I made after ascending was the Tongxin Mirror—the one we saw in the imperial tomb.”
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