Aurelia Yeabsley had chased after Caspian Thornwood, that untouchable bloom like a snow lotus on a heavenly peak, for more than ten thousand years before she finally won him.
But their marriage had not even lasted two hundred years
before she cast him off.
The gods could not stop clicking their tongues in wonder.
Everyone said Aurelia Yeabsley was hopelessly ruled by desire. Once she had gotten what she wanted and tasted her fill, time passed, and naturally, she grew bored.
At that moment, inside Wuchen Hall, the council hall of Juntian, the gods had gathered in a noisy crush like a market on festival day, all packed together, whispering, muttering, and talking over one another about the same bit of gossip.
More kept arriving one after another, some riding qilin, some driving phoenixes, some coming on divine swords... every immortal lord hurrying in with such anxious looks that it seemed they were terrified of missing the spectacle of the age.
Some of them had barely stepped through the doors before grabbing familiar colleagues by the sleeve and shouting, "Well? Has it been announced yet? I’m not too late, am I?"
But the moment their eyes landed on that streak of scarlet in the corner near the head of the hall, they all had the sense to lower their voices.
It was not that the gods had poor eyesight. Caspian Thornwood had always been cold and distant by nature, and he had always favored silver and white robes. No one knew what had possessed him today to dress in blazing red.
He seemed to have been sitting there for a very long time. Rarely seen in red, he now wore a brocade robe with cloud sleeves and dragon-phoenix patterns, bright crimson from collar to hem, with a black-and-gold sash worked in matching dragon-phoenix designs at his waist. It looked exactly like the ceremonial robe he had worn at his wedding two hundred years ago.
That dazzling, almost burning red, set against the cinnabar tear mole at the corner of his right eye, only made his face look paler, as if all warmth had been drained from him.
His ink-black hair was tied high with a red gilt hairband patterned with linked branches, and the loose strands falling down happened to veil his brows and eyes, leaving no one able to read what he was feeling.
He sat with his head lowered, as though he were staring at the cup in his hand. But the tea inside had long since gone cold, and the air around him seemed frozen over as well, like a patch of winter lodged in the middle of this bustling hall, out of place in every possible way.
Before long, four of the five Emperor Lord seats at the head of the hall were filled. Ambrose Dewfield, Emperor Lord of the western Wantian, Corvin Northgate, Emperor Lord of the northern Xuantian, and Vesper Emberly, Emperor Lord of the southern Yantian, each wore a different expression.
The last time the Heavenly Realm had seen a gathering this grand had been at Heavenly Emperor Reginald Goldhaven’s hundred-and-fifty-thousandth birthday celebration.
Aside from the four Emperor Lords seated above, every god-lord below looked positively thrilled. The whole place buzzed with such lively excitement it was practically like every household had just welcomed a plump newborn heir.
"Honestly, who could’ve seen this coming? Back then I even placed my bet on Emperor Lord Jiuli ending up with Emperor Lord Yinyin. And then out of nowhere, Emperor Lord Jiuli married Emperor Lord Baili instead!
"And what’s worse, it’s only been two hundred years, and already the two of them can’t go on together anymore!"
One god-lord spoke with obvious indignation, his face full of the bitterness of a man still upset over a lost wager.
Another deity tossed a spirit fruit into his mouth, then shot him a look full of disdain.
"What would a ten-thousand-year virgin like you know? The number of god-lords Aurelia Yeabsley has flirted with could line up from this Wuchen Hall all the way to Lord Caspian Thornwood’s Fengling Hall.
It’s always the one you can’t get that feels best. Once you finally have her, who knows? Maybe you realize the wild grass outside still smells sweeter."
"Exactly, exactly. I’ve got a close friend, a god-lord, who was even flirted with by Emperor Aurelia at a banquet before. She tore his robe, too. That night he went back wrapped in Emperor Aurelia’s own cloak."
As soon as one deity brought that up, his eyes lit up like fire. In an instant, every god in the hall turned toward him. Even the younger deity looked absurdly proud of himself for dropping such a huge piece of gossip.
The whispering below grew louder and louder.
Seated above, off to one side in the corner, Caspian Thornwood seemed to catch some fragment of it. The hand holding his cup trembled once.
In the blink of an eye, the fine white jade cup turned soundlessly to powder and vanished.
His long lashes lowered, covering every unreadable flicker in his eyes.
"You have all waited long enough. For Little Nine’s matter, you even made the trip to Wuchen Hall."
The cold voice cut through the great hall with crushing force. Everyone felt a chill run through them, as if the air itself had frozen.
When they looked up again, the Heavenly Emperor was already seated at the place of honor. The moment Reginald Goldhaven appeared, he released his pressure without the slightest restraint.
Today he wore a dark robe threaded with gold at the edges, its shadowed patterns flowing under the light. His eyes were bright as stars, but when they swept over the crowd, the cold in them was like a bottomless deep pool.
The gods who had been whispering fell silent at once. One after another, they hurriedly circulated their spiritual power, forcing themselves to endure the Heavenly Emperor’s might.
A few lesser immortals of the Heavenly Immortal and True Immortal realms already had blood at the corners of their mouths.
"Reginald, that robe looks especially good on you today. Makes you look even more dignified."