At these words, the few Divine Officials in charge of arranging newcomers pressed their lips together and fell into a unanimous silence.
Third Prince Nezha, Great God of the Three Altars and Seas, the double-blossom enforcer of Chentang Guan, the number one who kills without redemption—he was notoriously difficult to please.
Attendants were sent to him every year, only to be either returned or rejected outright.
They turned to size up Shen Fuxing. Never mind her age—with those skinny arms and legs, a single sneeze from the Third Prince could blow away ten of her.
The officials shook their heads in dismay.
Determined not to be sent back to the Mortal Realm, Shen Fuxing lowered her head and pretended to be aloof, secretly cooking up a desperate plan.
“Slap—”
The officials jumped in fright and turned to see her eyes blazing with determination as she dropped a bombshell: “Standing before you is the Third Prince’s number one fan! My life’s greatest wish is to serve at his side, to be his dog!”
The officials’ faces contorted.
What a twisted wish.
Shen Fuxing excitedly scrambled onto the table, grabbed a random official’s hand and shook it vigorously, fanatical and obsessed. “So please! Let me be his attendant!!”
The impact of those words was no less than “Please let me be his dog!”
The official’s expression was indescribable, like he’d just seen something filthy.
He disdainfully pulled his hand free from Shen Fuxing’s grasp. “Fine, fine, fine. I’ll take you there.”
After all, the Third Prince always bundled up whoever they sent and tossed them out of Cloud Tower Palace anyway. This was just going through the motions—the little girl would still have to go back where she came from.
How magnificent was the Celestial King’s residence—auspicious clouds and radiant mists, imposing divine might.
The official led her all the way to the Third Prince’s hall. Before they even reached the interior, they could see from afar a youth seated upon the throne, hair tied in a topknot, the Universe Ring around his neck.
The Sky-Hiding Silk coiled like a fiery dragon, shimmering with waves of light, wrapped around the youth’s arm.
He lowered his head, methodically wiping the cold, gleaming Fire-Tipped Spear in his hands.
Sensing someone approaching, he lifted his eyelids, his indifferent gaze three degrees colder than the chill radiating from his spear.
The official’s legs went weak the moment he entered the hall. He prostrated himself, trembling as he paid his respects, not daring to look directly upon the Third Prince’s countenance.
But that girl behind him wasn’t afraid at all. She walked in and immediately locked eyes with him, looking none too bright.
“Hiss, hiss—”
The official up front was about to steam from anxiety. Bow, you idiot! Do you want to get us both tossed out of Cloud Tower Palace by the Sky-Hiding Silk?!
Shen Fuxing was slow to react. When she finally snapped out of it, she still didn’t kneel. Instead, she imitated the etiquette from period dramas, cupping her fists toward Nezha and calling out with solemn gravity, “Hello, boss!”
Third Prince: “…”
For a brief moment, he thought this girl was about to swear brotherhood with him.
The official remained prostrated on the ground, eyes bulging wide, mathematical equations materializing above his head—clearly already contemplating the mysteries of the universe.
Nezha sat with legs spread wide in a dominating pose, a thin layer of delicate red eyeshadow lining his eyes, cold and disdainful. “What little brat is this?”
The official answered tremblingly, cold sweat streaming down his back, “Reporting to the Third Prince… she… she is this year’s newly selected attendant for the Prince’s Hall, named Shen Fuxing.”
“Tch.”
A low scoff, tinged with exasperation.
Though he had entered the Heavenly Court as a child laborer, thousands of years had passed since. His body merely maintained a youthful appearance—he wasn’t actually a child.
They chose a fifteen or sixteen-year-old girl to be his attendant?
Asking for a beating.
The Sky-Hiding Silk blazed with crimson light, swirling around Nezha with a restless energy, clearly reflecting its master’s displeasure.
The official shuffled forward on his knees, hastily explaining, “Th-Third Prince! It’s this girl—she said she’s your die-hard fan, and her lifelong wish is to be your little dog!”
“This minor official, moved by her sincere devotion, brought her here!”
The official kowtowed several times in succession. “Third Prince, forgive me! If punishment is due, punish her!”
The Third Prince’s Hall fell into unprecedented silence.
Nezha’s eyes revealed neither joy nor anger—cold, indifferent. His hand continued leisurely wiping the spear.
Shen Fuxing, a mere mortal who had just obtained her Immortal Registry, had no real abilities—just a thick skin. Even when her crude words were exposed to her face, she didn’t blush, remaining calmer than Nezha himself.
Her only worry was that this Haihui Dashen might be thin-skinned and kick her out over those few words.
“Actually…” Shen Fuxing lowered her head, fidgeting with her fingers, earnestly selling herself. “Keeping me by your side won’t be a loss. I can serve tea and pour water, I eat less than the Howling Celestial Dog, and you won’t need to scoop my poop.”
Nezha: “…”
The Sky-Hiding Silk’s glow dimmed, draping quietly over the youth.
No one knew what was going through the Third Prince’s mind—just like the official who dared not breathe, staring with his mouth agape.
Could the Third Prince actually be thinking of adopting a little dog…?
After all, he was still a youth at heart. Neighboring Erlang Shen walked his dog every day, while he had empty hands and an empty side—naturally, some petty grievances brewed within.
This dog… pah!
This time, the attendant selection was right!
In one second, the official conjured eight hundred stories in his head, already imagining himself going back to get a promotion and raise. Who could have predicted that the next moment, Nezha would directly hurl the Fire-Tipped Spear toward Shen Fuxing?!
Aaaah!! What was he thinking?! He actually believed a few clever words could make the Six Realms’ number one god of slaughter take a liking to Shen Fuxing?!
That was the Fire-Tipped Spear personally passed down by Taiyi Zhenren, weighing a full six thousand jin—any demon with less than a thousand years of cultivation would be crushed to death on the spot!
Shen Fuxing was only sixteen! A mortal by birth, with no cultivation base whatsoever!
It’s over, it’s over, it’s over… She was about to be splattered with blood on the spot!!
The Divine Official turned his head away and squeezed his eyes shut, a hint of reluctance showing on his face.
But no scream came.
“Do you want me to wipe it for you? Or should I put it away?” Shen Fuxing obediently caught the spear, asking with the thoughtfulness of a little padded jacket.
Hearing that she could still speak, the Divine Official curiously cracked one eye open.
In that instant, his pupils dilated, and he leaned back, his gaze toward Shen Fuxing completely changing.
What the—!?
Not to mention him, even Nezha’s aloof expression shifted subtly.
He hadn’t actually intended to make Shen Fuxing bleed on the spot—he just wanted to scare her a bit, to make her give up those wild ideas and leave on her own to find some other post.
A newly promoted low-level immortal, young and frail—she couldn’t possibly be of any help to him. Bringing her along to subdue demons and vanquish monsters would be useless and only add to the chaos.
But Shen Fuxing caught his Fire-Tipped Spear with one hand—that was something he never could have anticipated.
Nezha had even been prepared to summon the spear back the moment she was about to be crushed to death by it.
As it turned out, his rare act of mercy had been entirely unnecessary.
As for Shen Fuxing—her grandfather had been diagnosed with terminal liver cancer, and she herself suffered from severe bipolar disorder. She paid no attention to the astonished looks around her; she only wanted to perform well and fight to stay.
The spear felt quite light in her hands; the weight never even crossed her mind.
“The girl—I’m keeping her. You may go.”
“…Yes.”
The Divine Official’s heart pounded wildly. Pale-faced, he staggered out of the great hall.
Six thousand jin—with strength like that, Shen Fuxing could send him to physical death and dissolution of the Dao with a single palm strike!
He hadn’t offended her just now, had he? Surely not, right?