Zhao Lixuan never imagined that despite all his preparations, things could still go wrong from the very start.
…
First, the extravagant outfit he’d dug out from the bottom of his trunk just to match their grandeur—that Gold-Woven Pearl-Inlaid Emerald Gilded Purple Cloud Dragon Battle Robe—had been kindly taken by the young immortal attendant on duty to be scented with incense, only to accidentally get scorched with a charred hole.
“Wuu… Disciple, disciple is just so clumsy. Please punish me, Master!”
The young immortal clutched the robe, tears welling up in his eyes. Zhao Lixuan was speechless for a moment.
“Forget it, forget it. Don’t cry. We’ll just swap it for another one.”
But then, the little maidservant accidentally dropped the entire box of white jade hairpins while fetching one for him, shattering them into pieces.
Zhao Lixuan: “…”
He looked up at the sky. Today was clearly all gentle breezes and birdsong amid blooming flowers.
Why am I the only one having such rotten luck with everything going wrong?!
Time was running out; there was no way to pick out a new outfit now. Utterly helpless, Zhao Lixuan could only throw caution to the wind and change into the standard-issue Immortal Lord uniform that every Fu Xi Palace member had—a low-key, subdued set with zero flair.
Fine, whatever.
Blunder through it blindly, do whatever, and just grit my teeth and get on with it!
What the hell was the point of suffering like this? He’d rather grab his sword and charge straight into the Misty Crevice Abyss for a real fight against the demon horde! Win and etch his name in history; lose and sacrifice for the realm—at least it’d be a blaze of glory.
What alliance with the Liao Yuan Court?
Who wanted to fight side-by-side with his ex-rival!
…
That evening, at the edge of the boundless sea of clouds where rainbows swirled vividly and flowing mists gleamed gold.
In the past, Fu Xi Palace had been famous not just for this world-renowned cloud sea, but also for the Immortal Realm-shaking “Four Seasons Vista”—the four Immortal Lords: Lu Ziyuan, Xia Yunjie, Zhao Lanze, and Shen Fengyan.
Back then, people said the four Immortal Lords each had their own distinct charm, like the turning of the seasons. One blazed bright and fierce like midsummer sun; one was cool and serene like deep autumn maple; one was warm and gentle like spring breezes; one was aloof and free-spirited like winter moonlight.
But sadly, twenty years ago in that civil war, Zhao Lanze fell protecting the realm, Lu Ziyuan departed in sorrow, and Shen Fengyan vanished without a trace, his fate unknown to this day.
The Four Seasons Vista scattered, leaving only Xia Yunjie to guard Fu Xi Palace alone.
Fortunately, a new generation of Immortal Lords had now risen in Fu Xi Palace. And Zhao Lixuan was the most renowned among them.
The Immortal Realm now buzzed that Immortal Lord Li Xuan carried echoes of his brother Lan Ze Immortal Lord’s former glory, even faintly surpassing him.
Only Zhao Lixuan himself knew he was nothing but a playboy rogue who’d barely reformed a decade or so ago. In looks, cultivation, or character… he fell far short of his brother.
The former Fu Xi Palace Lord Zhao Lanze had lived a life of noble integrity and compassion for the masses. Even in his youth, he’d quelled disasters across the realms time and again, taking in countless orphans under his wing and raising them with care.
In the end, he’d sacrificed himself to save the Three Realms from collapse—
Zhao Lixuan could never hope to measure up in his lifetime.
Yet despite achieving nothing real, his empty fame had spread like wildfire.
These past few years, even the Unstained Immortal Realm had a trendy saying: “One glance at Immortal Lord Li Xuan and you’re ruined for life.”
No one knew where it started—maybe his reclusive habits added mystery; or his “approachable” reputation helped; or perhaps people were just seeing echoes of the old Zhao Lanze through him…
Either way, the hype spread from one to ten, ten to a hundred, propping him up as peerlessly elegant, unmatched in the age, one of a kind in heaven and earth.
So today, the boundless cloud sea teemed with heads.
Countless scattered immortals brought their families, claiming to welcome the Liao Yuan Court guests, but really they were all here just for him—
“Quick! Get the Memory Projection Stone ready—this chance can’t be missed!”
“Got it, got it! Immortal Lord Li Xuan just glanced this way! Over here, Immortal Lord—give us a smile?”
“Worth the wait today! They say just a few extra looks at Immortal Lord Li Xuan clears your mind! It’s true—the immortal aura around him is so thick, a few glances and my spiritual platform feels purified. What a harvest!”
“Hey, you! Didn’t you swear last month that ‘one glance at Immortal Lord Li Xuan and you’re ruined for life’ was total nonsense?”
Cough… That was then, this is now! I hadn’t seen him in person back then! Who knew his poise outshone the rumors—that restrained, ascetic, immortal-bone look… how could anyone not… Immortal Lord! Hahaha, Immortal Lord Li Xuan looked at me!!
The clamor and adulation drowned out even the surging clouds.
Even Palace Head Xia Yunjie had a faint, barely perceptible glint of mischief in his eyes. His other colleagues’ shoulders trembled slightly too, clearly holding back laughs.
Zhao Lixuan: “…”
Sure, the Immortal Realm loved jumping on trends these days, and he couldn’t wrap his head around it.
But whatever.
Being blindly popular was still better than back when he’d been a pathetic simp getting snickered at behind his back!
As he thought that, the Immortal Crossing Bridge at the cloud sea’s edge suddenly hummed.
The massive teleportation array beneath it activated in a flash, intricate golden runes erupting with vast, majestic spiritual pressure. Rays of light intertwined like flowing rainbows, turning the twilight sky bright as day.
Then, the blinding glow softened.
Ripples spread from the light circle, diffusing like light rain. Figures materialized from the haze, gradually sharpening—
The Liao Yuan Court immortals had arrived at Fu Xi Palace.
…
Zhao Lixuan cursed his sharp eyes.
In that dense crowd of immortals, he’d zeroed in on that familiar old shadow at first glance.
Jiang Chen…
Twenty years later, seeing him again in the flesh felt calmer than expected.
Across the world, anyone who ascended to immortality—be it innate immortal bone, mortal cultivator turned immortal, or demon spirit transformed—would have peerless features. Ugliness was rare.
Take Lu Ziyuan, his senior sister, striding at the front right now.
Over a decade apart, she was still dazzling beyond compare, her orchid grace and jade poise even more refined than before. And beside her, that golden-haired, blue-eyed “Oath-Keeping Immortal Venerable” Chu Fusheng with his deep, bewitching features—the Three Realms’ number one beauty from Mortal Realm picture books.
But…
After all these years, Zhao Lixuan helplessly realized his tastes hadn’t budged an inch—
If Chu Fusheng was a bold oil painting, Jiang Chen was a sharp-stroked ink scroll, distant and profound, rendered in subtle shades.
Even those eyes, unchanged after years apart, were pure black. Like a midnight sky bottomless and starless, holding the desolation of fallen constellations.
Zhao Lixuan: “…”
He’d thought he’d forgotten that besotted feeling from back then.
Now, seeing him… it all came rushing back.
For a moment, time rewound to the cicada-chirping summers of youth.
Back then, he’d snuck into Xiao Xue Tower but paid no mind to the lectures, using his book to hide most of his face as he secretly peeked at the boy beside him, wondering at his pale lips and why he smiled and spoke so little.
Sometimes, if Jiang Chen felt the stare too long, he’d glance over.
Zhao Lixuan’s heart would leap into his throat.
Will our eyes meet?
Will he smile? He’s been studying so hard— is he hungry? What does little Jiang want to eat today?
…
Now, years later, Jiang Chen had shed all boyish traces.
His tall frame was wrapped in a black robe with subtle dark patterns and wide sleeves, serene like a sheathed sword—edge fully restrained, only cold detachment radiating through.
Still doesn’t smile much.
Just like an eternally snow-capped peak, belonging to no one.
A flood of memories hit—
Like after class, when he’d grab Jiang Chen’s sleeve scented with faint herbs and insist on sticking by his side.
Or in that vine-covered courtyard, propping his chin with a grin as he watched Jiang Chen practice sword under the moon, gently brushing a fading flower when he thought no one saw.
Or countless times he’d impulsively blurt confessions, spouting nonsense.
Back then, Zhao Lixuan acted the shameless rogue on the surface, but during confessions he’d blush furiously, limbs awkward and unsure where to go.
Yet he’d been utterly shameless about it, rejected every time but still clinging: “I have to repay that life-saving debt. Come on, give me a chance…?”
Back then, he’d been hopelessly, incurably smitten with Jiang Chen.
Even now, years later, one look at the man pulled him right back in.
Damn it, not a good habit!
Luckily, after staring so blatantly, Jiang Chen’s gaze never turned his way.
Jiang Immortal Lord seemed distracted the whole time today, his black eyes quietly scanning the crowd, searching for something—or someone.
…Looking for who?
But whoever it is, probably got nothing to do with me. Zhao Lixuan quickly averted his eyes, but then Jiang Chen’s dark pupils suddenly shifted without warning, locking straight onto him.
Caught off guard, their eyes met.
But just for an instant.
Then Jiang Chen indifferently looked away, utterly unmoved—as if he hadn’t seen him at all.
“…”
“…………”
“………………….”
Impressive.
Zhao Lixuan’s hands clenched secretly in his sleeves. Unbelievable—what a pro. And here he’d spent a whole day in front of the mirror perfecting his aloof Immortal Lord act like an idiot!!!
Never saw this coming.
Twenty years later, Jiang Chen held no scorn, no grudge, no hostility toward him.
Just pure, utter indifference!
As if they’d never met. As if this guy who’d once been desperate for him, who’d deluded himself for so long, hadn’t left even a speck of dust in his heart!
“…”
Fine.
Perfect. Jiang Linyuan, you win!
How could he endure this? Twenty years apart, first reunion glance, and he was already crushed so thoroughly!
Right now, reason screamed that forgetting each other in the martial world was the best outcome. But a surge of frustrated rage “whooshed” up anyway, burning so hot he wanted to charge over and rip off Jiang Chen’s mask of calm indifference!
He’d honestly rather Jiang Chen showed outright hate.
Even dredge up old grudges and duke it out fair and square—better than total erasure!
It wasn’t lingering feelings for Jiang Chen.
No…
He’d just assumed that even if he couldn’t be Jiang Chen’s white moonlight or cinnabar mole, he was at least a firm thorn in his side.
Otherwise? After two whole years of pouring his heart out, sharing bed and skin… just free service?
Had he really been that worthless? Served Jiang Chen wholeheartedly for two years, and he wasn’t even a blip?
…
The Liao Yuan Court Immortal Lords stepped from the array, wide sleeves billowing in the wind, strides calm as they crossed the rainbow clouds.
The closer they got, the more the spectating immortals boiled over—having feasted on Immortal Lord Li Xuan’s peerless poise, now they could ogle the Mortal Realm demon immortals too. Totally worth it today!
“Look, look—it’s Mortal Realm’s Palace Head Lu Ziyuan! So beautiful! And the legendary Three Realms’ top beauty, Chu Fusheng!”
“Huh, that black-robed Immortal Lord with the tight lip line, like living ink art—who’s he?”
“See that sword in his hand, wreathed in black flames… Could it be the Demon Bright’s divine weapon ‘Mortal Life Ashes’? Then this must be… the infamous Sword-Holding Immortal Venerable of Liao Yuan Court, Jiang Linyuan?”
“What? Jiang Linyuan looks like that?”
“Outrageous! Rumors always call him brutal and terrifying, but never mention how coldly handsome he is?”
Such chatter was old hat to the Liao Yuan Court crew.
Palace Head Lu Ziyuan strode forward steadily, but a faint whiff of alcohol brushed her nose, furrowing her fine brows.
“…”
“Jiang Immortal Venerable, have you… been drinking today?”
Jiang Chen had been in Liao Yuan Court for over a decade. In Lu Ziyuan’s eyes, this Sword-Holding Immortal Venerable was aloof and taciturn, but unfathomably powerful and reliably steady.
Just one headache—
He was a private drunk.
Drank daily without fail, couldn’t sleep without it. Sometimes he’d go berserk and chug nonstop.
He barely spoke sober; drunk, he went dead silent.
Just fixed people with those black eyes until their spines chilled.
As Palace Head, Lu Ziyuan had tried gentle persuasion a few times, but Jiang Chen ignored her. Since he’d never botched anything from booze, she’d stopped bothering.
But today…
Why break habit now? This was a formal event—how could he show up reeking of alcohol?
