Flashback — Many Millennia Ago, in the Celestial Gardens
The wind whispered through the jade-leaf trees, their silvery blossoms swaying gently above the Celestial Gardens, releasing a soft, lingering fragrance. Mist curled low over the marble paths, drifting like breaths exhaled by the earth, and the air shimmered faintly with divine qi.
Beneath the hanging wisteria of a secluded pavilion, two goddesses sat side by side.
Wenlan, the Goddess of Earth, leaned on one elbow, her dark green robes trailing elegantly along the stone bench. She twirled a delicate rainbow orchid between her fingers—a color not known to exist in the celestial realm.
"I've never seen this hue of orchid before," she said with a curious smile, offering it to her companion.
Ling Yun, dressed in gauzy robes of pale violet, accepted the flower with a soft laugh. "I found it on the cliffs of Wuying Peak."
Wenlan glanced at her, brow slightly raised. "You've been venturing farther lately—beyond the celestial boundaries. The herbs and flowers you bring back… some aren't even listed in Heaven's archives."
Ling Yun twirled the stem of the orchid thoughtfully. "Heaven forgets that not all medicine grows in the light. Some only bloom in shadow."
"You mean the land bordering the underworld."
Ling Yun's smile remained, but her gaze turned distant. "There are places even immortals dare not tread. But they hold wonders. So many rare herbs—strange, beautiful things that could heal thousands."
Wenlan's tone gentled, laced with concern. "You're not a warrior, Yunyun. That region is dangerous."
"I'm careful," Ling Yun replied quietly. "Don't worry about me. If I can bring back new medicines for us to cultivate… It's worth the risk."
She paused.
A memory rose, unbidden—a man cloaked in black, golden eyes glowing with intensity even as blood stained his side. She had found him on the jagged cliffs of Wuying Peak, a place suspended between realms, steeped in silence and ancient air.
He'd been wounded, but even then, his gaze held no weakness.
She had knelt beside him, setting down her basket of herbs, and coughed lightly. "Relax. I'm not going to hurt you."
The man's laughter was low, hoarse, and amused. "You? A little fairy? You can't be more than ten thousand years old."
She flushed, ears tinged pink. "I'm a goddess," she corrected with a small pout. "My name is Ling Yun. I tend the celestial dew, the sacred mists, the veils between realms. I cultivate divine herbs and nurture Heaven's healing gardens—"
He interrupted with another laugh. "Alright, alright. Don't get so worked up. You celestial folk really are too easy to tease."
She glared at him. Yi Luotian thought she resembled a rabbit glaring at a wolf—feisty, but far too delicate. For some reason, he found himself speaking again.
"My name is Yi Luotian," he said, voice low. "I'm just a traveler. I was ambushed and wounded. That's all."
He shifted slightly and added, "Just leave me be. I need to gather my qi and heal…"
Ling Yun said softly. "It's not the wound I'm worried about—it's the poison. If left untreated, it'll eat away at your flesh. Your qi won't be able to purge it in time."
As she spoke, she began rummaging through her herb basket, fingers deft and confident. With a flick of her wrist, a mortar and pestle appeared in midair.
"Lucky for you," she said, "I came prepared for all sorts of surprises."
Luotian watched with faint amusement as she crushed the herbs, murmuring softly under her breath.
How fascinating…
She wasn't like other celestials he had encountered—aloof, arrogant, hidden behind veils of sanctity.
She was different.
After forming a smooth paste, Ling Yun turned back to him, only to meet his gaze head-on. Their eyes locked for a breath too long.
She quickly looked away, long lashes trembling as a flush colored her cheeks.
"You—take off your robes," she said, voice soft but firm. "I need to treat the wound immediately."
Yi Luotian's lips curved into a smile. He leaned slightly closer, voice laced with mischief. "No one's ever seen me bare before. Will you take responsibility after?"
Ling Yun's head snapped up, flustered. "You—! Shameless!" she exclaimed, but her tone carried more embarrassment than anger. "I'm only treating your wound! Take off your robes if you don't want the poison to rot your flesh!"
"Alright, alright. You're like a rabbit that bites," he said with a laugh, unbothered. "Feisty—hardly the image of a proper celestial goddess."
He chuckled as he slowly removed his outer robe, then his inner one, revealing the ghastly wound festering across his shoulder blade. Black blood oozed from the jagged flesh, its edges discolored due to the poison.
Ling Yun didn't respond to his teasing. She knelt beside him, her movements calm and practiced. With gentle hands, she cleaned the wound, her touch surprisingly tender despite the severity. Once the area was cleared, she applied the herbal paste and carefully wrapped it with fresh bandages that shimmered faintly with divine qi.
From above, Yi Luotian watched her closely. She was a beauty—delicate, almost ephemeral. Her face was small and finely shaped, with lips like early spring blossoms and lashes that cast soft shadows over her cheeks. Her brows arched like willows, and yet, despite her gentle appearance, there was a quiet fire in her.
She was not fragile.
She was fierce in her own way.
Lost in thought, he didn't realize she had finished tending to him until she spoke again.
"All done," she said, looking up at him. "The medicine will need a few days to fully take effect, but—"
She trailed off.
Their eyes met again.
This time, his gaze held something different—still amused, still teasing, but softer now… curious. Ling Yun blinked and turned her face slightly, pretending to busy herself with her herbs, but the pink dusting her cheeks gave her away.
She cleared her throat and said, "Alright… you're feeling better now, so I'm leaving."
Before she could rise, Yi Luotian reached out and grabbed her wrist. She startled, about to protest, when he gently pressed something into her hand. A jade hairpin.
"A gift for you," he said casually.
Ling Yun blinked, glancing down at the hairpin resting in her palm—smooth jade, delicate filigree, strangely warm to the touch.
For a moment, she hesitated.
"I can't accept this," she murmured, fingers curling slightly, intending to return it.
But he was faster.
"It would be rude to refuse," Yi Luotian interrupted, his lopsided smile edged with something unreadable.
"Just treat it as a payment, then."
She said nothing more.
Without argument, she tucked the hairpin into her sleeve, the faint weight of it pressing against her skin like an unspoken promise.
Basket in hand, she turned to go—but his voice chased after her, lingering in the mist.
"If you ever want to find more precious herbs, come find me," he murmured, tone almost amused, almost expectant.
"I know places that no one knows of."
She paused—but didn't turn back.
"The hairpin is imbued with my qi," he continued, watching her closely.
"Hold it in your hand and speak to it. It will call me."
Ling Yun didn't look back. She simply waved her hand in farewell and walked off, her pale violet robes trailing behind her like mist.
Yi Luotian watched her disappear into the haze, a smirk tugging at his lips.
It seemed chasing his future wife was going to be a long and arduous journey.
But he didn't mind.
His gaze darkened as he rose to his feet, slipping back into his robes. The bodies of the assassins had already been dealt with—their remains reduced to ash, scattered by the wind.
He had been careless once.
It would not happen again.
His golden eyes narrowed, a flicker of killing intent flashing through them.
So… the Celestial Realm still couldn't wait to rid itself of him.