Tan Yin nodded again, feeling uncertain. His expression was so unusual—she had never seen it before. She had no idea whether he liked the dolls, and it made her anxious.
Then, a star seemed to fall into Tai He’s eyes, bright and joyful in a way she hadn’t understood at the time. His gaze was filled with a warmth that lit up his entire soul—not the burning pain of suffering, but pure, unadulterated happiness. Only now did she understand. That look was love.
“I like it,” Tai He said, laughing as he tossed the wooden doll into the air and caught it again, as gleeful as a child. “This is really fun.”
Tan Yin sat cross-legged on the ground, like an invisible, silent observer, watching this ancient memory unfold. She couldn’t escape it. Her body may have been still and composed, but inside, she felt like her heart was being scalded by boiling oil. She had never understood Tai He’s feelings—she hadn’t grasped even a tiny bit of them.
The figure in her memory spoke again: “Since you made it for me, it’s mine now. Don’t make them for anyone else.”
Why had she never understood?
As the sky gradually darkened, Tan Yin had already returned to her palace, engrossed in honing her craftsmanship. Tai He slowly made his way back from the Celestial River when suddenly, Han Nü appeared before him. She seemed deep in thought, muttering to herself as she walked. It wasn’t until she stood directly in front of Tai He that she noticed him and quickly smiled in greeting.
Tai He smiled back and asked, “What’s wrong? You seem lost in thought.”
Han Nü smiled warmly. “Oh? Aren’t you with Wu Shuang and the others?”
Tai He was puzzled. “With them for what?”
Realizing her slip, Han Nü shook her head. “It’s nothing. I’ll take my leave now.”
Tai He watched her retreating figure with suspicion. He turned to look in the direction she had come from, which led toward the Divine Bird Terrace, where the gods and goddesses usually gathered for laughter and conversation. After a moment of hesitation, he circled around Tai He’s Hall and quickly made his way forward. As he neared the Divine Bird Terrace, he saw the platform adorned with brilliant lights and heard the joyous chatter of the gods and goddesses.
At the center of the platform, small wooden figures dressed in clothes danced and sang. Tan Yin stood surrounded by a group of gods, smiling as they complimented her.
“These little things are quite amusing. How clever of you to make them,” the gods said, engaging in lively conversation with her, their manner familiar and intimate.
Tai He stood alone for a while, his robes fluttering in the wind. Then, without saying a word, he turned and walked away, not looking back.
“What… what have you done…” Tan Yin was stunned. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She had never made those things! How could this be?
Before her words could fully form, all the gods and goddesses on the platform suddenly disintegrated into countless threads, drawn into a pair of hands.
Han Nü’s voice rang out with laughter. “Just a little trick of mine. What do you think? Wasn’t it fun? Did you see Tai He’s expression? It was priceless.”
“Shut up!” Tan Yin screamed, her voice filled with rage. This behavior was beyond vile. “It was you… all of this was you…” She didn’t even know what to say.
“It was me,” Han Nü replied softly. “How else would I have obtained Tai He’s divine consciousness? Only the soul of a god can help me become a demon.”
A wave of terror washed over Tan Yin. She jumped up, wanting to move forward, but an invisible, transparent wall blocked her path. She pounded on the wall with all her might, shouting, “I don’t want to see this! Stop showing me this!”
She could already foresee what was about to happen. Tai He was already dead, his soul scattered, and his divine consciousness consumed by Han Nü. Just the thought of it filled her with an unbearable dread. The pain of her mortal tribulation began to sear her body again, consuming her from within.
Five thousand years! Tai He had been dead for five thousand years, and she had known nothing!
Gasping for breath, she saw through the transparent wall the outbreak of a war between gods and demons. The gods were struggling on all fronts, while Tan Yin, serving as a support craftsman, was exhausting herself, trying to devise solutions. She had thought of sealing the cold ice of the Celestial River into the arms of the gods using divine incantations, but her attempts had repeatedly failed. Tai He was being tormented to death, and time was running out. What could she do?
That day, the sealing technique failed again. Disheartened, Tan Yin left, while Tai He sat alone in the hall, gently stroking his dark red left hand. He had just woken from the throes of agony, still sweating from the pain, yet there was a strange tenderness in the way he looked at his left hand.
“Tai He, how are you?” Han Nü entered the hall, her face full of concern.
Tai He lowered his sleeve to cover his left hand, smiling faintly. “I’m fine, thank you for your concern.”
Han Nü covered her mouth with a laugh. “I just saw Wu Shuang dragging God Qinghuai around, insisting on sealing the Sun’s Gold into his right hand. God Qinghuai refused, saying he’d heard how much pain you endured for it, and Wu Shuang was jumping up and down in frustration. So childish.”
Tai He, pale, forced a smile. “Is that so?”
Han Nü sighed. “The war between the gods and demons has caused much suffering for everyone. Don’t overthink it, Tai He. Rest well.”
She left shortly after, and Tai He lay down, closing his eyes, though his lashes trembled. His sleep was far from peaceful.
Outside the window, voices suddenly rose, and Tai He abruptly opened his eyes. It was Tan Yin’s voice. She was tugging at God Qinghuai, her expression aggrieved. “I won’t let you suffer! I’ve already tried it several times with Tai He. Once I succeed, I’ll seal the Sun’s Gold for you.”
Tai He’s face turned ashen, and he quickly pushed open the window. Seeing his pale face, Tan Yin’s expression shifted, and she guiltily turned and ran away. God Qinghuai merely shrugged at Tai He, smiling smugly, like a victor.
“You again?” Tan Yin’s voice trembled as the wound in her abdomen began to tear open. She pressed her hand tightly against it.
Han Nü didn’t answer. The scene shifted once more. On the battlefield, Tai He deliberately allowed the demons to sever his left hand, which fell to the mortal realm. His face showed pain, but more than that, it revealed a kind of numbness.
“What a foolish man,” Han Nü mocked. “His heart is terrifying. Though he hates you to the core, he grits his teeth and endures, willingly falling into slumber. Does he think he can escape his mortal tribulation that way? Wu Shuang, Tai He’s mortal tribulation was you. The moment his hand fell to the mortal realm, his tribulation had begun.”
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