At the palace gates, bright lanterns hung high, their soft glow casting warmth into the cold night, their light gently brushing against his heart.
So, it was over.
There was no longer anything binding them together.
She was so close now—should he go and see her?
He had barely finished ten cups of imperial wine before he felt the intoxication creep in. The realization struck him at once—he had been set up. With a faint, knowing smile, he abandoned the idea of seeking her out.
Smoothing his robes, he was the first to step through the palace gates. His steps were steady as ever, but only the most observant would notice—the once sharp clarity in his phoenix eyes had dulled.
On his way through the corridors, he gave a few brief instructions to his attendants before hurrying toward his chambers.
“You used to be the great Zhongtian King, capable of drinking a thousand cups without getting drunk. And now, not even ten thousand years later, your tolerance has weakened.”
The teasing voice was gentle and melodic, as a pair of delicate hands reached out to support him.
Surprised, he instinctively withdrew, brushing the touch away without a trace before smiling and taking a seat at the desk. “Jade Pool’s imperial wine is naturally extraordinary.”
Lu Yao chuckled. “I’d say the Emperor set you up.”
He didn’t deny it. “What brings you here?”
Lu Yao teased, “To pay my respects to the Flower God, of course. The entire city has been buzzing with celebration these past three days, inside and out. But don’t worry—Ah Jiu is recovering well now, and I no longer need to watch over him day and night. Since you’ve been busy these past few days, I thought I’d stop by and check on you.”
He smiled faintly, turning his gaze toward the window. “It’s late.”
Lu Yao personally carried in a basin of warm water. “I won’t disturb you for long. I’ll leave soon. But first, wash your hands.”
He frowned. “Why trouble yourself? Where are the attendants?”
Placing the basin on the table, Lu Yao replied, “Don’t blame them. The Flower Festival has finally come to an end, and I could see how exhausted they were. I let them rest. It’s just tea and water—nothing I can’t handle.”
He said nothing more and rose from his seat.
Lu Yao stepped forward, rolling up his long sleeves for him. When she caught sight of the scars—crisscrossing his forearms in jagged, overlapping lines, some still tinged with red—her eyes welled up with emotion. “How do you feel?”
Unfazed, he washed his hands and dried them with a towel. “Much better.”
The wounds of Heaven’s Punishment—pain that pierces the very bones—were not so easily healed. Ordinary immortals, even if they committed grave sins, might not survive three strikes of heavenly retribution. Yet he had endured eighty-one. It was only through his boundless power and two hundred thousand years of cultivation that he had managed to withstand it.
Lu Yao spoke softly, “If I had known you were going to do this, I wouldn’t have told you in the first place. Father scolded me because of it too…”
He cut her off. “Hu Yue’s successful removal from the celestial registry was destined. Even if I had intervened, it wouldn’t have been possible unless fate allowed it.”
After saying this, he once again turned to look out the window. “It’s late.”
Lu Yao smiled. “As long as you’re fine, then I’ll be on my way.”
He nodded. “I’ll have someone escort you.”
Just as he turned toward the door, Lu Yao’s gaze flickered. Then, without warning, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him from behind.
He froze. “You…”
“If Hu Yue weren’t my cousin, would you still have helped her?”
Her voice was soft, almost a whisper.
Her delicate, fair hands encircled his waist, trembling slightly. Even her usual gentle voice carried a different timbre tonight—softer, more fragile, like ripples on a still lake. Something about it stirred the depths of his heart.
Unable to resist, he turned to look at her.
Her enchanting eyes were like an abyss, deep and inescapable, brimming with an allure that could steal a soul away.
The imperial wine had been tampered with. Just a single cup held the potency of dozens of Flower Immortal brews. No matter how deep one’s cultivation, how strong one’s will—once intoxicated, even he might not be able to resist her natural-born enchantment.
His phoenix eyes, already clouded, grew even more hazy.
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