Just as Mo Chen thought this, the heavy doors of Ling Yuan Palace slammed open with a loud crack.
Yanxia, the Goddess of Fire, swept inside, her fiery red robes blooming behind her like flame, each step leaving faint embers that vanished before touching the frost-lined floors.
"Mo Chen!" she barked, voice crisp and lively, "Did you turn away another fair maiden today?"
Mo Chen frowned faintly, cold blue eyes sliding toward her with an expressionless gaze, saying nothing.
Unbothered, Yanxia continued, her voice half laughter, half exasperation, "Why are you so heartless? Even Yunhua — the most beautiful goddess in all the heavens — couldn't melt that frozen block of ice you call a heart."
Mo Chen, feeling the first prickles of irritation, replied without lifting his gaze, "It's none of your business."
Yanxia's temper flared at his indifference. She slammed her palm against a pillar—one that stubbornly refused to crack, despite her strength.
"Well! I simply cannot stand to watch beautiful maidens have their hearts crushed by the likes of you!"
She huffed and paced, her sharp gaze catching the faint glow of the pearl resting quietly on the low glacier jade table.
Her voice softened in curiosity, "Oh? What is this? A pearl? But it's unlike anything I've ever seen before... Can I—"
Before she could finish, Mo Chen lifted a hand.
A shimmer of frost and mist, and the pearl vanished from sight.
"You—you...!" Yanxia stammered, stamping her foot.
"Do you have to be this petty?!"
She threw up her hands in exasperation.
"Never mind! I only came to tell you there's a banquet hosted by the Jade Emperor in a few days."
Mo Chen's response was instantaneous, delivered in a single, cold sentence, "Not going. Too noisy. Get out."
Yanxia let out a long, aggrieved sigh.
"Do you have to keep yourself shut between these walls?"
Mo Chen simply gazed at her silently, his stare colder than ice itself.
Chilled by his gaze, Yanxia grumbled, "Fine, fine. Suit yourself," she muttered, and with a sweep of her red sleeves, she stormed out as quickly as she had arrived.
The great doors slammed shut once more, leaving behind only the soft drifting of snowflakes through the hall.
In truth, Yanxia considered Mo Chen a friend—or something close to it. As one of the high elemental gods herself, she understood better than most the loneliness that came with endless years of duty. She only wished to see him happy — to see that frozen, untouchable heart thaw even once.
But talking to Mo Chen was like arguing with a mountain of ice: infuriating, exhausting... and utterly fruitless.
Will there ever be someone who could thaw that frozen heart?
Forget it, she thought bitterly as she left.
When the hall returned to its usual silent stillness, Mo Chen waved his sleeve once more.
The pearl reappeared, floating gently before him, cradled by a bed of shimmering mist.
He sat before it, folding his legs neatly beneath him, placing two fingers lightly on its surface.
Time drifted on.
Day after day, for a hundred years, he imbued the pearl with his divine energy — never impatient, never expecting. It became as natural as drawing breath, as inevitable as the falling snow outside.
And then, one day—
A faint hum stirred through Ling Yuan Palace.
The frost along the walls quivered.
The still air shimmered.
The pearl pulsed once, then burst into radiant light, painting the silent hall in hues of dawn: soft gold, pale pink, shimmering blue.
Mo Chen lifted his gaze.
Amidst the swirling brilliance, a slender figure slowly emerged — a girl, curled like a sleeping lotus, hair cascading like a river of night across the jade platform.
She was barefoot, wrapped in gauzy mist that clung delicately to her frame.
At her brow, a pearl-shaped mark glowed faintly; beneath her right eye, a vermilion mole bloomed like a tiny, living flower.
Her long eyelashes fluttered once, then opened.
Clear, luminous eyes gazed at him.
Eyes so pure, untouched by even a speck of worldly dust, like the first snowfall upon an untouched mountain.
They stared at each other — the immortal god, frozen by millennia, and the newborn spirit girl.
And then—
She smiled.
A soft, guileless smile, bright as the first thaw after a long winter.
In a voice like a breeze across frozen waters, she called out, "Master."
Mo Chen's expression remained still, but deep within his cold, eternal soul, something shifted.
A crack — tiny, almost imperceptible — formed in the frozen sea of his heart.
If Yunhua, the Goddess of Flowers, was hailed as the greatest beauty of the heavens, then this little pearl girl, who smiled at him with eyes like newborn stars, was something even more breathtaking.
Especially those eyes — clear, unguarded, trusting him completely.
Mo Chen let out a soft, almost inaudible sound, "Mn."
A sound softer than falling snow.
He reached out with a single hand and lightly tapped the top of her head.
"From now on," he said, "your name is Xiao Zhu."
The little pearl girl leaned into the touch instinctively, closing her eyes as she fell into a deep sleep, her smile deepening — as if she had finally found the place she had always belonged.
Mo Chen lowered his hand slowly.
For the first time in a long, long while, he stayed where he was, watching quietly, allowing the silence of Ling Yuan Palace to be filled—not with loneliness, but with the soft, even breathing of the girl curled trustingly before him.
Outside, the snow continued to fall.