At the Heavenly Peace Assembly, the Jade Emperor led all the gods to the banquet. Buddha sat high upon the lotus throne, and the immortals took their seats in order. Before them lay endless Pantao peaches, Jade Nectar, precious treasures, and exquisite delicacies. The heavenly soldiers and generals all wore new robes, pure and flawless; colorful immortal maidens drifted through on Auspicious Clouds, their fragrance spreading, their radiance dreamlike and ethereal, celestial music wafting through the air.
Nezha was late—though not intentionally. Such was Nezha's way. Under heaven's rules, the Third Prince was rarely late, but he would always send word: "I'm not coming, please carry on." The Jade Emperor never blamed him, and King Li could not control him.
Today, Muzha had invited him, and Nezha maintained a surface-level cordiality with his elder brother. Moreover, Nezha felt the little Clam Spirit would enjoy the Heavenly Peace Assembly and might gain some benefits, so he brought her along.
Nezha's seat was beside King Li, not at the very front, but entering the banquet midway still drew attention.
Red silk like fire—the young divine general arrived late. Today's twin buns were slightly disheveled, loose strands falling by his cheeks, his features androgynous. The Third Prince's rarely-worn full set of robes was also somewhat rumpled. His expression was as ever, chin slightly raised, looking at everyone as if they were ants—neither angry nor pleased.
Nezha's hand held no spear; instead, it held Shuanglian's, who also wore twin buns—though in a woman's style. Her hair was slightly messy; she had tried to straighten her clothes on the way. Nezha's robes hung loose and open, revealing a sliver of collarbone. Her garments were neater than his, at least covering her body properly.
There was another reason: beneath Shuanglian's clothes, her skin was covered in red marks, unfit for others to see.
Compared to the resplendent immortals, the two had arrived in too much haste.
Shuanglian felt uneasy, afraid of being blamed, and hid behind Nezha. To be honest, her hair had been barely combed by Nezha, her robes thrown on, even her shoes and socks put on while he knelt before her.
As for why her clothes and hair were in disarray… Shuanglian had been utterly powerless in that cramped changing room, pressed down by Nezha. The full-length mirror and clothing rack had nearly toppled, yet her waist remained stubbornly arched as she wrapped her legs around him.
With such a commotion, how could their clothes not be wrinkled?
Held by Nezha's hand, under everyone's gaze, Shuanglian's face grew warm. She lowered her head, unable to hear the whispers from above.
The Jade Emperor said to King Li: "Nezha is young. It's good that he's awakened and manageable."
King Li offered a toast to the Jade Emperor. The hard fear the ruthless, and the ruthless fear those who do not fear death.
In heaven and on earth, those who do not fear death are the hardest to deal with.
Shuanglian followed Nezha to pay respects to the Jade Emperor, and the Queen Mother of the West handed her a Pantao Peach picked by her own hands.
The Queen Mother said: "The other day, that monkey destroyed my Peach Banquet. Today I have washed my hands and picked this immortal peach to express my gratitude." [Note]
Shuanglian held the peach, trying to minimize her presence, and sat beside Nezha.
The Three Pure Ones and Four Emperors sat at the very front. Among them, Taishang Laojun raised his cup: "Third Prince, it has been but a few days, yet your spirit remains as radiant as ever."
Nezha raised his wine cup and clinked it with his from afar.
Everyone avoided the topic of Shuanglian, and King Li did not press for answers either. He let her hold the peach and nibble at it in small bites.
These peaches were what remained after the monkey's havoc in heaven. Shuanglian felt they didn't taste as good as the one Nezha had picked that day. After two bites, she turned to the dishes comparable to dragon liver and phoenix marrow—truly delicious, and she ate with great satisfaction.
The heavenly immortals were in high spirits, toasting Nezha cup after cup, impossible to refuse. After drinking, his cheeks flushed pink, and he closed his eyes to rest, looking like a beautiful immortal boy.
During this time, Shuanglian was summoned by the Queen Mother and several fairy maidens. She went nervously and returned holding a Magic Treasure.
Nezha opened his eyes: "What did they call you over for?"
Shuanglian was only half-sure: "They told me to serve well and not cause trouble."
Nezha scoffed: "They think they can control me?"
Shuanglian let out a cold snort too, but her words carried no threat at all: "The Pantao Peaches at the Heavenly Peace Assembly taste better than the ones you picked."
The moment she spoke, heaven trembled. The thoroughly drunk immortals were startled, their laughter briefly ceasing. Buddha closed his eyes in meditation for a moment, then said: "No matter. That monkey is making a ruckus under the mountain, cracking open a crack at the top of Five Elements Mountain."
He took out a slip of paper, wrote scriptures upon it, and used it to suppress Five Elements Mountain. Taking advantage of the chaos, Nezha pulled Shuanglian away and left.
Before leaving, Shuanglian thought of Sun Wukong, who could only eat iron pills and drink molten copper, and looked at the table full of delicacies. Moved by the thought, she secretly took some Alchemy Pills and rare fruits, intending to give them to the Great Sage.
Nezha saw this and pinched her cheek with his fingers. He was thoroughly drunk, and he carried Shuanglian back to Yunlou Palace.
Inside the hall, Nezha half-lay on the couch. Shuanglian, soft as a ball of cotton, was scooped up and placed on the couch beside him.
Nezha's head was heavy, his eyelids drooping, drowsiness overwhelming him. Once on the couch, he held Shuanglian and closed his eyes, seemingly asleep.
Shuanglian couldn't move, nor could she wake him. As a Clam Spirit, she was used to days of eating her fill and sleeping. So she found a comfortable spot in Nezha's arms, closed her eyes, and slept.
As she slept, Nezha's hand began to wander. Though his consciousness was lost to drink, his hand was clever, easily undoing the Clam Spirit's sash.
His palm moved upward, parting her loose robes. In her sleep, the Clam Spirit felt a chill and pressed closer to him, turning onto her side.
Nezha opened his eyes and looked down, thinking to himself how convenient this was. He buried his face in her chest, sucking and licking, then moved to kiss her lips.
The Clam Spirit slept deeply, disturbed by the scorching hand upon her. His hand truly would not stay still, roaming through her robes, touching her delicate arms and the hollow of her waist.
The Clam Spirit had only recently completed its shape-shifting, having spent all its time before inside its thick shell. Now that it had finally seen the light of day, its skin was naturally fair and tender, as if water could be squeezed from every inch.
Nezha's throat was parched. Having failed to draw any water from his mouth, he grew dissatisfied and bit down on the skin he held between his lips, biting until the Clam Spirit whimpered in its sleep. He released his mouth just in time and withdrew his hand from within the folds of its garments.
As the Clam Spirit twisted its body, the hem of its skirt caught on its thigh. Nezha worried it would catch a chill, so he reached out to pull the skirt hem back down.
But the hand he extended refused to obey him. Instead, it betrayed him by slipping beneath the edge of the skirt.
Still thirsty, he kneaded and squeezed the cool Shuanglian in his embrace, determined to wring water from it.
Nezha remembered that the Clam Spirit sealed in water to preserve its life. Before it had taken human form, when his finger poked at the Clam Spirit, water would drip out drop by drop.
But now that it had taken human form, why wouldn't it work?
His thirst was unbearable. He fumbled about recklessly, searching for a source of water.
After groping around, the Clam Spirit's skirt was left crumpled and disheveled, revealing its still-clad silk stockings and legs so fair they were almost blinding. The treasures he had secretly tucked into his clothes tumbled out one by one, but Nezha paid them no mind and continued his search.
Suddenly, he crooked his long fingers, the thin calluses on his fingertips rubbing against the delicate Clam Spirit, making it squirm uncomfortably.
He had truly found it.