Though Song Miaozhu looked forward to meeting the two fellow Sovereigns, she knew that as the newly appointed Divine Artisan Sovereign, her first task was to settle down and become familiar with her duties and surroundings.
The first step was choosing a residence.
Though she had already attained an immortal body, no longer burdened by hunger, thirst, or weather, she still retained the mind and habits of a mortal. After all, wasn't the purpose of cultivating the Dao—to endure a lifetime of hardship—meant to one day live freely and at ease?
Now that her responsibilities were light and the heavens no longer pressed upon her, it was time to reward herself with a home that was both peaceful and beautiful.
According to what she had learned from the Heavenly Dao, a Sovereign had two residence options. One was a personal pocket realm hidden within the sleeve of the Hundred-Stitch Thousand-Craft Robe. The other was to build a home somewhere inside the Hundred Arts Heavenly Realm.
That pocket realm began as an empty void, but with enough immortal power, it could shift and transform at her will. As the sovereign of all human craftsmanship, her thoughts alone could turn energy into artistry. She imagined it, and it began to take shape—double-sided peony blossoms bloomed across Su embroidery screens, rosewood beams fitted together with invisible joins, and porcelain floor tiles spread across the ground in blue and white.
Even more wondrous, every crafted item preserved the essence of its material. The scent of sandalwood lingered in the air, the smooth touch of silk flowed under her fingers, and the warmth of porcelain radiated faintly beneath her feet.
But it did not take long for her to notice a flaw.
These creations, as exquisite as they were, lacked a spark of life.
Birds on the screens did not sing. Flowers in the vases stood motionless. For all its splendor, the space felt more like a carefully curated gallery than a place to live.
Even if the furnishings were impeccable, living here alone would soon become a lonely experience.
Her thoughts drifted to the Sovereign of Ten Thousand Spirits. With control over all living things, he could turn his immortal power into stones and rivers, flora and fauna. If she could one day invite his help, a touch of his energy might bring her little realm to life. Then she could enjoy a lifestyle closer to the mortal world—gardens and streams, shade trees and birdsong.
The idea brought a smile to her lips.
The second option—building a home within the Hundred Arts Heavenly Realm—offered a different kind of charm.
Wonders lay everywhere. The water of Chengxin Lake shimmered beside the Paper Arts Palace, clouds of brocade rolled endlessly over the Embroidery Fields, and boxwood forests circled the palace of woodcraft.
Even more delightful were the many spirit-born creatures that lived here. A white crane, shaped from rice paper, danced among the clouds. Porcelain handmaidens served tea in carved hallways. Rosewood deer wandered between ancient trees. The realm was alive with movement and sound, rivaling even the most vibrant scenes of the mortal world.
What captivated her most was the rhythm of day and night.
By day, the embroidered heavens would unfold into brilliant patterns. At night, the same threads turned into rivers of stars, and the celestial palaces glowed with lanterns formed from transformed glass.
To live here meant to be constantly surrounded by beauty, always in the company of spirited companions. It would never feel lonely.
And now, with her long immortal life ahead, she did not need to choose just one. She could have both.
She could build her main residence within the Hundred Arts Heavenly Realm and set up a smaller retreat in her sleeve realm. With immortality, the distance between realms was only a thought away.
The idea pleased her. Her lips curved into a smile as she began planning.
The personal realm could wait until she had the Sovereign of Ten Thousand Spirits' help to infuse it with life. For now, setting up a home in the Hundred Arts Heavenly Realm took priority.
Her gaze lingered near the Paper Arts Palace, finally coming to rest on the quiet shores of Chengxin Lake.
The lake was like an enormous inkstone, reflecting the embroidered sky above. When the breeze blew, the surface rippled like dark ink stirred by a brush.
She peered closer and discovered treasures hidden in its depths—fragments of calligraphy from masters of past ages.
Wang Xizhi's Preface to the Orchid Pavilion darted through the water like playful fish. Yan Zhenqing's Eulogy for a Nephew swayed like aquatic grasses. Su Shi's Cold Food Festival Prose rested calmly at the bottom like polished stones.
The weeping willows along the lake were made entirely from finely cut Chengxin Hall paper. The leaves were as thin as cicada wings, semi-transparent in sunlight. When wind stirred the branches, they rustled in harmony, like a musical composition written on parchment.
Beneath the trees, elder spirits shaped from inkstones played board games at stone tables. Every fallen piece struck the table with a crisp and satisfying sound.
Even the spirit creatures she had brought with her seemed fond of the place.
Zhangli, Yue Lin, Guan Hong, and Yan Feng continued playing mahjong beneath a paper pavilion. The little paper servants galloped through the willow groves on paper horses. Paper soldiers lined up in formation across grassy fields. A paper-crafted water ox and a paper black tortoise splashed and wrestled in the lake. The spirit-paper warhorse was especially lively, sometimes galloping across the water and kicking up sprays of dark ink, other times charging through the grass and startling clouds of paper butterflies.
Her gaze passed through the willows to the nearby grove of cyan paper bamboo.
Each stalk had been rolled from indigo-dyed paper, with joints painted in deep ink. The leaves, thin and saw-edged, rustled in the breeze with a sharper, clearer tone than the willows.
She thought of the years spent on Xiaozhu Mountain.
Though the bamboos there were real, the atmosphere here was just as vibrant.
She pictured a home between the lake and the bamboo grove—a paper-crafted house with a lake view. Open the window, and the water would sparkle. Behind the house, bamboo shaded the rear courtyard, and every breeze would carry the sound of rustling leaves. In quiet moments, she could sit by the window and watch calligraphic fish play. On a whim, she could walk through the grove and chat with paper spirits, or join her companions for a game.
It would have all the elegance of the immortals, without losing the warmth of mortal life.
After she shared her thoughts with her spirit companions, they immediately set to work.
The spirit of her paper-house talisman flew to the spot between lake and grove and released its full form.
A courtyard appeared beside the lake.
White walls, black roof tiles, and stone paths paved in blue-gray brick. The structure echoed her former home on Xiaozhu Mountain, though the layout changed rapidly to match her vision.
Wind chimes made of thousand-eye paper bells swayed without wind, producing soft and cheerful tones.
Carved window lattices extended and reshaped themselves, blooming into patterns of plum, orchid, bamboo, and chrysanthemum.
Even the bronze rings on the gate adjusted themselves into their proper position.
The main hall faced the lake. Open its carved window, and the scenery stretched out in full.
Behind the house, paper bamboo brushed against the eaves with that familiar whispering song.
To the side, an open courtyard had been left for a paper-crafted locust tree to rise. Beneath it appeared a full set of paper tables and chairs.
Song Miaozhu's new home had begun.