She had a long dream. In it, everything was white and empty.
A seed-like object floated in the air, slowly sprouting, growing, and blooming into a flower with mottled patterns.
She tried to get closer to see it clearly, but suddenly her eyes opened.
Familiar red bed curtains, familiar wedding blankets and pillows.
Nan Shan blinked slowly and pulled the blanket up to cover half of her face.
“Has she not woken up yet?”
A voice came from the door—it was Ji Yue.
Nan Shan’s eyes moved slightly, and when she turned her head, she saw Shou Xin sitting with his back to her at the threshold, and Ji Yue across from him, calm and upright like a bamboo stalk.
Faced with the question, Shou Xin silently shook his head.
Perhaps it was because his expression looked so downcast that Ji Yue didn’t enter immediately.
Instead, he sat down beside Shou Xin and handed him a bowl:
“This is a calming spiritual medicine. Drink it, and your headache will go away.”
“Thank you, Immortal Lord.”
Shou Xin obediently drank the medicine and then sat there holding the empty bowl in a daze.
Ji Yue didn’t disturb him and quietly kept him company.
Their two silhouettes—one big, one small—somehow gave off a… warm feeling?
As soon as the word popped into her head, Nan Shan startled herself.
She couldn’t believe she’d ever use that word to describe these two oddball beings.
Just as Nan Shan was spacing out, Shou Xin suddenly spoke:
“Immortal Lord, do you really have to marry Nan Shan?”
Nan Shan snapped back to reality.
“What’s wrong?”
Ji Yue asked.
Shou Xin: “She doesn’t like it here. She really wants to leave.”
Ji Yue went silent.
Shou Xin: “I know you must really like her, that’s why you want her to be your wife. But she really wants to go home. A few times when I came to see her, she happened to be asleep, and even in her dreams she was calling out for her mother. Immortal Lord, why don’t we just let her go? She’s really pitiful.”
Ji Yue was quiet for a moment, then reached out to pat his head.
Since Nan Shan didn’t hear a reply, she cleared her throat.
As expected, both of them at the door turned to look at her.
“You’re awake!”
Shou Xin’s eyes lit up.
Ji Yue spoke gently:
“Go fetch her medicine.”
“Okay!”
Shou Xin happily ran off.
Ji Yue walked into the room alone.
As he got closer, Nan Shan’s heartbeat sped up, and her whole body tensed.
When he reached the bedside, she blurted out without thinking:
“That’s right, I was trying to escape—”
“…Thank you for saving Shou Xin.”
They spoke almost simultaneously.
Nan Shan froze.
“What?”
“You saved Shou Xin,” Ji Yue said again with a warm expression.
Nan Shan stared at him for a while, then buried her face in the blanket.
“…I didn’t.”
“You did,” Ji Yue smiled softly.
“His body is weak, cursed by fate, and he’s only able to stay alive by staying secluded and avoiding outsiders. If you hadn’t taken him away in time, once those fishermen touched him, he would’ve suffocated and died.”
Thinking of how Shou Xin had looked before, Nan Shan licked her lips.
“Then do you know that he only ran out because he was looking for me?”
“I know.”
“And you still think I saved him?”
“They’re separate matters.”
That “separate matters” earned a sneer from Nan Shan:
“You really have the heart of a saint, don’t you?”
Ji Yue went quiet, as if trying to figure out where her hostility came from.
After a while, still unsure, he simply sat down by the bed.
“So—why did you want to escape?”
Finally, the topic circled back. Nan Shan looked at him warily.
“Because I think this place is… off.”
“Why?”
Ji Yue tilted his head, genuinely puzzled.
Nan Shan let out a cold laugh.
“Still pretending? I saw it with my own eyes—Uncle Liu was clearly dead, but after being sent to the temple, he came back to life not long after. You’re telling me that’s normal?”
“So that’s what it was.”
Ji Yue let out a light chuckle, as gentle as a spring breeze.
There was no denying—he was beautiful.
And not the kind that felt dangerous.
He looked so elegant and ethereal, yet approachable, like someone who would make girls blush just walking past.
What a pity—Nan Shan wasn’t the blushing type.
After a long, silent stare, Ji Yue extended a hand to her.
“Would you come with me for a walk?”
Of course Nan Shan didn’t want to, but then she thought—her life was basically in his hands now.
Staying here might not be safe either. So, she grabbed his hand.
Ji Yue glanced at their joined hands and pulled her up.
She lost her balance and fell into his arms.
As she got steady again, a strong scent of incense overwhelmed her, making her cough uncontrollably.
“Are you alright?”
Ji Yue asked softly.
Nan Shan waved her hand and was about to reply when she suddenly noticed a group of people kneeling at their feet.
Startled, she looked around—dozens of voices surged into her ears all at once:
“Immortal Lord Ji Yue, please bless me with a son! I’ve been married three years and haven’t conceived. If I don’t give birth soon, I’ll be the laughingstock of the village!”
“Immortal Lord, I don’t ask for riches or glory—just let me catch three more baskets of fish today!”
“Please bless me with a wife…”
“Grant me a chest of treasure…”
“Grant me health, let all my illnesses be gone…”
Countless voices gathered like ants, bringing an unbearable, uncontrollable itch as they crawled.
Nan Shan’s first instinct was to dig at her ears—even if it meant drawing blood—to stop the ants from getting in.
Ji Yue noticed her reaction and immediately sealed her ears with spiritual power.
The prayers vanished, the ants were gone, and Nan Shan collapsed weakly… to be precise, she collapsed onto the shoulder of Ji Yue’s divine statue.
The spot she was now in was on the shoulder of the statue in the temple.
Somehow, even with so many people in the hall, not a single one noticed them.
They simply continued burning incense and offering prayers.
Nan Shan suddenly felt nauseous.
“Sorry. I didn’t consider it properly. I thought the prayers wouldn’t affect you.”
Nan Shan looked at him weakly.
“You hear this all the time?”
Ji Yue lowered his voice in apology.
He thought she would scold him, but unexpectedly, she just asked the question.
He paused for a moment and nodded slightly.
“Every moment of every day.”
“Then you really have it rough,” Nan Shan said, her breath slowly returning.
“Seems like being a god admired by thousands isn’t as easy as it looks… So why did you bring me to the temple?!”
Ji Yue smiled without answering.
When a woman approached the incense burner, he sent a thread of spiritual energy into her abdomen.
Nan Shan looked at him in surprise, silently asking what he was doing.
Ji Yue explained, “I am a god born from the offerings and faith of the people. I have the duty to bless and give back to them.”
As he spoke, another person came forward, and Ji Yue focused again to grant another blessing.
The ant-like whispers were long gone, but Nan Shan knew Ji Yue could still hear everything.
Even with all those voices pouring into his ears, he remained calm and steady.
Regardless of what he was—demon or not—she couldn’t help but respect him.
Still not knowing why Ji Yue brought her to the temple, Nan Shan endured the heavy scent of incense and watched him bless person after person.
She started to feel that maybe it was her imagination, but his face looked even paler—like a tough bamboo being bent further and further, about to snap.
“You’re really not sick?”
Nan Shan finally couldn’t help but ask.
Ji Yue glanced at her calmly and smiled.
“Gods don’t get sick.”
Nan Shan was left speechless.
There were too many worshipers—so many it felt hopeless.
Nan Shan sat on the statue’s shoulder, thinking she might be stuck there forever, when the scene suddenly changed.
They were now in the bustling marketplace she often visited.
The sea breeze carried a faint salty tang, but after living here for so long, Nan Shan didn’t notice it anymore.
Auntie Li was just five steps away, lazily selling snacks.
People here were easygoing like her—living freely without worrying about food or shelter.
Auntie Li didn’t even glance in their direction.
Just like in the temple, Ji Yue must have hidden their presence.
“…Why did you bring me here again?”
Nan Shan asked.
Uncle Liu appeared before she could finish, cheerfully greeting everyone around him.
Nan Shan’s eyes flicked toward Ji Yue in silence.
“I know what you want to ask,” Ji Yue said with a faint smile.
He touched her forehead, and instinctively, she closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, Uncle Liu was gone. In the spot he stood was a glowing speck, like a firefly.
Nan Shan had seen this in the underworld—she knew it was a soul left behind after death.
“It’s all just an illusion,” Ji Yue said softly.
“I can’t bring the dead back to life. Nor can I ignore the prayers of the faithful. So I use his soul to create this illusion. After a few days, I’ll erase everyone’s memories of him. That way, they won’t have to suffer the pain of loss.”
Nan Shan opened her mouth but found herself at a loss for words.
“There’s one last place,” Ji Yue said, holding out his hand.
As Nan Shan touched his fingers, the sea breeze turned icy, and the marketplace vanished, replaced by an endless ocean.
“Look,” Ji Yue gestured.
Following his gaze, Nan Shan saw a massive wall—or rather, a giant dome—encasing Dongyi Island.
It was vast and impenetrable, stretching into the sky, pulsing with black and red energy that made her heart tremble.
“This is the invisible wall,” Ji Yue said through the wind.
“I know you’re cautious and quick to judge others, but I’ve never lied to you. The reason I brought you here is to break this dome and release the trapped souls on this island.”
Nan Shan turned to look at him.
In the wind, Ji Yue’s hair ribbons fluttered.
His pale and gentle face was like a piece of white jade—fragile, but beautiful.
After a long silence, Ji Yue suddenly chuckled.
He formed a hand seal and spoke:
“Heaven bear witness. With my soul as the pledge, I swear that if I spoke even half a lie to Nan Shan today, may my soul be shattered and never reincarnated.”
The oath fused with his palm—an unbreakable vow.
“I’ve heard the Three Realms trust heart-oaths most,” Ji Yue said.
“Does this clear your doubts?”
Nan Shan stared at him.
“Make one more oath—promise you’ve hidden nothing from me. Otherwise, same punishment.”
She’d been tricked by oaths before.
She knew how easy it was to twist the meaning of words.
Faced with her rather blunt demand, Ji Yue just laughed.
“Alright.”
He made another oath.
“Is that good enough now?”
Nan Shan looked away.
“Whatever. I just need to train hard and break the dome to leave this place.”
As soon as she finished speaking, a finger poked her cheek.
Startled, Nan Shan looked at him.
“What are you doing?!”
“Thanking you,” Ji Yue said, smiling with crescent eyes.
At that moment, the resentment clouding the skies above Dongyi Island suddenly surged.
Ling Ye, who was trying once again to break in, abruptly stopped and looked at the island, deep in thought.
What just happened?
Why does it feel like the resentful energy is… excited?