Outside the celestial palace, by the ancient gate.
Rolling thick smoke spread endlessly across the surroundings, forming a bizarre scene as thunderous booms echoed through the air, as if trying to carve a new rift into the heavens beyond the heavens.
The vermilion gate, usually bustling and lively, was rarely shut tight, all because of the upper deity before it, who was kicking at the door with thunderous force. He said not a word, even summoning his divine weapon to start hacking at the gate.
The clanging and banging was deafening, and soon other divine officials couldn’t resist stopping to watch, gathering in small clusters of twos and threes.
Among them, one agricultural official nudged his companion with his shoulder and gossiped without the slightest discretion: “What happened on his trip to the mortal realm? Lord Cheng Xi is acting like he just lost his wife, rushing straight to Chuluo Pavilion without a moment’s pause to raise hell here.”
“Who knows? But if you ask me, he’ll last half an hour at most. Chuluo Pavilion can’t just leave him hanging forever, he’s the Divine Official, after all. Who dares to mess with him?”
The onlookers’ sarcastic remarks reached Cheng Xi’s ears word for word. His eyes were rimmed with red, as if he’d suffered some great injustice, and he pounded on the gate with even more force, ignoring the omens of divine wrath, showing no sign of retreat.
Irritably tossing aside the divine weapon Qing Lu clutched in his hand, he issued a threat toward the gate: “If you won’t open the door, I’ll block this place every single day. I don’t believe you can hide from me forever, can you really dodge this for a lifetime?” After speaking, he delivered another vicious kick.
Thunder rolled across the sky, and several bolts of lightning grazed his sleeves before striking the ground hard. Gusts of wind howled past, and torrential rain began to pour down in sheets.
The surrounding divine officials all raised barriers to shield themselves from the rain, but Cheng Xi paid it no mind. He turned and picked up Qing Lu, lying forlornly on the ground, and resumed his frantic, clattering assault.
In the curtain of rain, Cheng Xi’s sword edge finally veered an inch off course, scraping against the pavilion gate before planting into the ground, supporting its master who had lost all strength.
Everything grew blurry. Cheng Xi knelt half-crouched on the ground, and raindrops laced with a sleeping draught fell onto his face, his consciousness sinking deeper and deeper.
The gates of Chuluo Pavilion finally creaked open just a crack, pulling the nearly unconscious Cheng Xi inside from beyond the door.
“See? Not even a moment passed, and Chuluo Pavilion already summoned him in…”
The gate closed, sealing off all sound from outside. The Pavilion Master of Chuluo Pavilion paced back and forth in the room, his head aching. At fifty thousand years old, he still had to fret over the mess caused by the young divine official under his charge. With a sigh, he resignedly flipped through the celestial book, searching for the existence that had been driven to the brink of destruction.
That divine official who had lost the competition to Cheng Xi, the root cause of all this.
When the snipe and the clam fight, no fisherman profits in the end.
Opening the page that had been restored, faint gray script spelled out a person’s name, his birth, everything he had experienced in life, every choice he made, every tear he shed, all recorded in meticulous detail. The celestial book reappeared, and the past life was relived anew.
Yu Yu often said that when he was a mortal, he couldn’t have been more unlucky. But after ascending, he became a remarkably fortunate divine official. His position was rare, yet he had no need to manage mortal affairs. With no divine power within him, he idly passed several hundred years, contentedly holing up on Kuangyu Mountain as a living landmark for centuries, enjoying many leisurely days.
Perhaps the soil here was simply too fertile, or perhaps the blasted aftereffects were simply too potent, before they could even enjoy their good days to the fullest, a Divine Official came to take up residence here.
And as luck would have it, it was the one person he least wanted to see.
Yu Yu couldn’t say how long it had been since they last met. In his memory, that person was always blurry, a shadow, impossible to see clearly, impossible to grasp.
Cheng Xi’s arrival was a grand affair. Before the man himself even appeared, the mountain was already buzzing with people gathering in clusters, eager to catch a glimpse of his divine bearing.
In a corner, Yu Yu quietly packed his bundle. After brushing off the disciples who called him to go watch the commotion together, he took an unconventional route, just as he climbed out through the window and before he could even steady himself, someone cast a binding spell on him. The bundle on his back slipped off and tumbled down, landing in the muddy ditch.
The newcomer grabbed at the jade pendant on his waist, trying to yank it off, but was scorched by a surge of spiritual energy and could only withdraw his hand with an awkward cough.
Cheng Xi clasped his hands behind his back and circled Yu Yu with a teasing air, then delivered a single line: “Where did you get that jade pendant?”
The distance was close, so close that Yu Yu stared at him without blinking, almost forgetting to breathe. His cheek was forcibly pinched up as Cheng Xi looked at him with puzzlement: “Are you mute?”
It was nearly unbearable. Yu Yu gave a slight shake of his head, took a deep, forceful breath, and only just managed to suppress the impulse to break free from the binding and throw himself into an embrace.
Perhaps feeling that interrogating a stranger out of nowhere was a bit improper, Cheng Xi released the binding spell. The moment it lifted, Yu Yu lost control of his body and crashed hard into the ditch below, just like his pitiful bundle, splashing into the fresh mud pit left by the rain.
“My apologies.”
Cheng Xi offered the apology, but there was not a trace of guilt on his face. Yu Yu had no right to feel wronged, so he picked up his bundle in his disheveled state, climbed to his feet, and stood to the side, asking with patience: “Is there something you need?”
The moment those words left his mouth, the spiritual jade that had lain dormant at his waist for years began to stir restlessly, swaying back and forth between Cheng Xi and Yu Yu.
A jade pendant that had given birth to spiritual consciousness was waving at its old master from its new owner’s body…
Yu Yu stole a guilty glance at Cheng Xi, and the latter’s half-smiling gaze sent a chill crawling down his spine.
There was no need to ask further, the answer to why Cheng Xi was blocking his path here was already obvious.
…
The Heavenly Court.
“There will be many guests at the banquet. Stay close to me, and don’t get lost.” Cheng Xi naturally took hold of Yu Yu’s wrist and led him forward.
“I told you, I found it. If you want it back, Divine Lord, I’ll just return it to you.” Yu Yu’s hands were bound with an immortal-binding rope, leaving him no choice but to follow behind Cheng Xi.
“Didn’t I say it already? I don’t believe you. You’re clearly a divine official, what were you doing hiding in the mortal world? It’s hard not to suspect that you stole this spiritual jade. Removing a jade pendant that has given birth to spiritual consciousness requires divine power, and you don’t even have that, so how could you possibly return it?” Cheng Xi didn’t want to make a big fuss over the jade. More than that, he wanted to know what Yu Yu’s identity was, and why the divine soul on his forehead that drew upon divine power was missing a piece.
Yu Yu was under a concealment spell, but he still argued in his own defense: “Then what do you want to do? I don’t have divine power, so I can’t take it off, but you do, don’t you? Just take it yourself.”
“I have no intention of disregarding a life. Keep quiet.”
The spiritual jade could only be removed by the person bearing it, using their own divine power. If someone else tried to take it, the jade would only release itself automatically if the bearer were gravely wounded, on the brink of death.
Leading the group to the entrance of an ornate palace with carved beams and painted rafters, Cheng Xi finally stopped.
The spiritual energy here was the most abundant, and Cheng Xi, taking advantage of the moment, gathered a large swath with a sweep of his sleeve and channeled it into Yu Yu’s brow.
“Isn’t that the deity Cheng Xi? The one who prefers to keep to himself, who’s that beside him? Never seen him before.”
“Doesn’t look like a divine official, nor a mortal…”
The unrestrained whispers reached Yu Yu’s ears, and a wave of irritation crept into his brow. He particularly disliked this feeling, being watched, being talked about.
But unfortunately, he was in no position to do anything about it now.
The spiritual energy surging into Yu Yu’s forehead rampaged through his body, and in the end, finding no place to settle, it flew back out.
Cheng Xi lowered his hand, staring at the divine mark on Yu Yu’s forehead that the spiritual energy had forced into view. Within it lay the soul of the Divine Official.
A soul that should have been utterly pure was now riddled with massive cracks, and worse, it bore a gaping, undeniable chunk missing.
He’d never seen anyone’s soul in such a dire state, shattered like that and still alive.
That was the Divine Official’s soul, the most unique soul in all the world. To possess a piece of it was to possess another life.
Yu Yu lifted his gaze, meeting Cheng Xi’s eyes. All those eyes could offer him was confusion and shock, nothing else.
Yu Yu pushed Cheng Xi away, avoiding his gaze, and told him with great difficulty: “My soul is shattered. Now you know.”
For some inexplicable reason, the heart in Cheng Xi’s chest began to tighten and ache, as if someone were gripping it fiercely and refusing to let go. The feeling was strange, yet faintly familiar. In his memories, there was no trace of this peculiar divine official, but looking at that face, hearing the words from his lips, feeling his shattered soul, he found himself grieving more than the man himself.
Cheng Xi began to doubt his own centuries of memories. Did he truly not know this person, Yu Yu?
“I’m sorry.” Cheng Xi untied the rope binding Yu Yu, grabbed hold of him as he turned to leave, and continued: “But you can’t go.”
Yu Yu frowned. “What else do you want? Didn’t you say you wouldn’t disregard a life?”
Remembering that he’d never actually said he’d let him go, Cheng Xi felt perfectly justified in pointing toward the center of the banquet: “Since you’re here, I can help you.” He forcibly led Yu Yu inside, ignoring Yu Yu’s repeated protests of “I don’t need it.”
Finally growing tired of the nagging, he simply grabbed the back of Yu Yu’s neck and pressed his own forehead against Yu Yu’s divine mark, trying to seize control of his soul’s core to quiet him down.
The two divine marks clashed abruptly, and a blinding light erupted from both Yu Yu’s and Cheng Xi’s foreheads at once. Caught off guard by the pull, Yu Yu, once he realized what Cheng Xi was doing, shoved him away with all his strength, delivered a crisp slap to his face, and then belatedly regretted it, his burning palm trembling.
He was no longer the Yu Yu of old who did whatever he pleased. He could no longer order Cheng Xi around.
This person before him always made him lose control.
Yu Yu’s breathing came fast, his voice shaking: “I’ve been patient with you at every turn, and you think you can do whatever you want to me?!” He deliberately used such words to provoke Cheng Xi, hoping to make him forget the strangeness of just now.
Things did not unfold as Yu Yu had hoped. Cheng Xi merely turned his head aside, covering his face and freezing for a few seconds, before swiftly grabbing Yu Yu’s wrist instead. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he mercilessly shattered the pretense of distance Yu Yu had tried to maintain: “You’re lying.”