The way of heaven takes from excess to supplement insufficiency. Unlike mortals in the lower realms, to avoid imbalance between purity and turbidity, the reproduction and procreation of the gods in the upper realms relied entirely on spiritual dream omens. Only within ten days after a spiritual dream descended was conception possible. And for tribes with bloodlines as rare and noble as the Huaxu Clan and Zhuyin Clan, having two or three conception spiritual dreams in a lifetime was already considered excellent.
Ordinarily, omens wouldn’t appear until after one hundred thousand years of marriage. Who would have thought his spiritual dream would come so quickly?
Xuan Yi used her sleeve to suppress a yawn, stretching lazily as she hugged his neck: “Can I say I don’t want to give birth?”
…Her tone didn’t sound like she didn’t want to.
Fucang caressed her cool cheeks, speaking gently: “Really don’t want to?”
She softly exhaled, her tone even softer: “Then can we wait a few days?”
Fucang extended a finger and flicked her face extremely lightly: “Silly Princess.”
In the splendid evening glow, the azure pool water in the white jade pool at the mountain summit seemed to have been transformed, becoming an extremely pale crimson. The emerald tree branches and leaves by the pool hung down, as if wanting to draw spiritual liquid from the pool.
Xuan Yi stared intently at this gorgeous scenery until nightfall, when the pool water gradually became sparkling like the celestial river.
Truly beautiful.
Fucang said softly: “At dawn, the pool water becomes pale green. If it rains, it’s azure lotus color. Only when it snows does it have no color.”
Xuan Yi couldn’t help turning back: “…How long did you stay here last time?”
He thought for a moment: “Two years, perhaps.”
The Dragon Princess looked at him silently, her eyes flowing, revealing an extremely rare tender expression. Fucang then removed the golden circlet from her hair to examine. This golden circlet was exquisitely crafted, though one could also see the style was no longer contemporary. Although she never said it, most likely it was her mother’s relic.
Suddenly he heard her say in a low voice: “Qing Yan too—went alone to the Cuihe shore and stayed for several years.”
When he returned, there was a pair of jet-black pearl earrings on his ears from then on, said to be ornaments the river god had given his mother when she was young. To this day, he still hadn’t removed them. He didn’t want to marry, probably feeling he would definitely become like Father—the indulgent dragon nature meant that generations of Zhuyin Clan emperors had no good reputation when it came to relationships.
Xuan Yi suddenly softly entangled herself around the Qinghua Dijun before her, an ambiguous smile rising on her jade cheeks, her voice becoming coquettish: “Senior Brother Fucang, it seems I don’t want to wait anymore.”
She pressed against his lips and, imitating his manner, bit down.
*
In the sixtieth year after the grand wedding, on a scorching summer day, the Princess brought her husband back to Zhongshan, incidentally bringing earth-shattering news: she was with child, of Huaxu Clan blood.
Qi Nan was probably the most excited and happy. Without paying attention, he cried until half his face was swollen. He had already stopped being a divine official, remaining at Zhongshan to enjoy his retirement. Raised by Qing Yan, he had actually gained a bit of weight. At this moment, learning the Princess was with child, how could he sit still? He immediately volunteered: “Princess, let me take care of you.”
Those divine officials at Qing Di Palace were clumsy and awkward, and the attending female immortals were also dull-witted. He absolutely didn’t trust them to care for the Princess.
Qing Yan only laughed, gently tapping the forehead of his younger sister who was burying her head and vigorously eating candied plums: “Why isn’t it Zhuyin Clan blood? You’ve been outdone.”
Xuan Yi elegantly spat out a plum pit. She didn’t know if it was because of the pregnancy, but her preference for this sweet-and-sour taste had reached the highest point of her life. In no time, she had eaten half a box.
Qi Nan consoled her quite expertly: “Princess, don’t eat too much—be careful of nausea. The first three hundred years show no signs. You can be completely at ease.”
She immediately lost interest in the candied plums. Turned out she was just craving food.
“Where’s Father?” she asked.
Qing Yan said coolly: “He heard that the previous generation Qing Di was wandering the four seas, quite carefree and comfortable, so he also left Zhongshan to seek flowers and willows everywhere.”
These words made Qi Nan spray out another mouthful of tea.
Xuan Yi stretched lazily. Although Qi Nan said the first three hundred years showed no signs, these few months since becoming pregnant, she still felt more prone to drowsiness than usual. Zhongshan’s ice-sealed and snow-buried cold aura made her extremely comfortable. She immediately grasped Qi Nan’s sleeve coquettishly: “I want to stay in the Purple Palace for a few days. Qi Nan, are my cloud gauze pillows and bedding still there?”
“They are, they are.” Qi Nan forgot he was no longer a divine official, hastily leading the way. “Everything’s still the same.”
Whether it was returning to the familiar Purple Palace that made Xuan Yi particularly at ease, or Zhongshan’s cold yin energy that made her comfortable, upon entering Yuanzhan Hall, she sat on her bed and actually felt drowsiness and sleepiness proliferate. Without even removing her outer garments, she collapsed onto it and fell asleep.
Fucang removed her shoes and covered her with blankets before closing the gauze curtains. Qi Nan spoke in a low voice behind him: “The Princess is likely especially dependent on cold yin power because of the pregnancy. The Dijun need not worry.”
Since becoming pregnant, she looked no different from usual—in fact, she seemed even more energetic. Fucang hadn’t given it much thought. Who would have expected her fatigue was all accumulated inside, becoming soft as soon as she returned to Zhongshan?
Encountering these things for the first time, Fucang finally couldn’t remain as composed as usual. His jet-black eyes looked at Qi Nan, wanting to speak but hesitating. Qi Nan immediately wore an expression of “I understand, no need to say”: “Dijun, please wait a moment.”
He quickly walked out of the Purple Palace. After a long while, he returned carrying a mountain-high pile of books, placing them all on the desk, saying kindly: “When the Dijun has free time, you may read these.”
He believed that with Fucang’s perceptive intelligence, after reading all these books, he should be sufficiently equipped to handle the Princess’s various strange symptoms during her thousand-year pregnancy.
That night, while the weary Princess slept soundly within the gauze curtains, in Yuanzhan Hall’s study, the silver lamp burned all night. The earnest His Majesty Qinghua Dijun read through that mountain-high pile of books, one by one.
As dawn light began to show at the horizon’s edge, His Majesty finished the last book and let out a long breath.
He decided that after giving birth to this one, he would never make the Dragon Princess give birth again. If Qing Yan wanted Zhuyin Clan blood, he could give birth himself.
*
Xuan Yi slept for three days straight. She felt refreshed. After lunch, not finding Fucang anywhere and wandering about aimlessly, she saw Qi Nan standing at the mountain gate. Several Zhuyin Clan ceremonial carriages had just disappeared into the sea of clouds. She asked curiously: “Qi Nan, what are you doing?”
Qi Nan came over with a smile to support her: “Princess, you’ll know when you turn around.”
What secret things were they arranging privately again? Xuan Yi looked around: “Where’s Senior Brother Fucang?”
“He has some matters to discuss with the Dijun. Princess, don’t disturb them. Come, let’s go have some refreshments.”
Fucang and Qing Yan have matters to discuss? She didn’t believe it one bit. But in any case, having refreshments to eat always made her happy. Xuan Yi floated away following Qi Nan, her feet barely touching the ground.
She hadn’t even finished one row of agate white jade cakes when a familiar figure entered from the cloud realm. Xuan Yi rushed over like a butterfly through flowers. He caught her in alarm, frowning: “Don’t run like that.”
The young Dijun, still a thousand years away from becoming a father, was already getting a bit nervous.
Xuan Yi smiled as she held his hand, walking backward. After just a few steps, he turned her around: “Don’t walk like that either.”
She pouted: “You’re not going to tell me not to walk for a thousand years, are you?”