1 Fusang (Part One)

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Traveling westward across the long snowy path of Beiying Heaven, one would reach the waters of the Dark Abyss. By the water stood a towering ancient tree named Fusang. Its branches and leaves flourished luxuriantly, and when the wind blew through them, they sounded like clashing gold and stone.

Bai Su gazed upon the tranquil lake, a bamboo flute poised at his lips. His frost-white wide sleeves billowed in the breeze as the ethereal, lingering flute melody drifted softly through the moonlit night.

This was the ancient shamanic music lost to the divine tribes of old, used to awaken the spirits of heaven and earth from primordial chaos. As the long melody ended, and its fading notes had yet to vanish, a sudden splash broke the stillness of the night.

Bai Su turned toward the sound.

A face of incomparable beauty emerged from the water—eyebrows like dark ink, eyes almond-shaped, lips like peach blossoms—more beguiling even than the merfolk of Zhu Yanhai.

But Bai Su knew she was not a mermaid.

The maiden floated silently in the Dark Abyss waters, her clear eyes reflecting Bai Su’s figure standing beneath the Fusang tree. Her gaze shifted from his handsome face to the divine wooden flute in his hand, then back to his face.

Their eyes met for a moment before the girl slowly rose from the water and stepped toward him. She was unclothed, her long black hair trailing down to her ankles like wet silk, leaving a winding trail of dampness on the ground.

Barefoot before him, she tilted her head and scrutinized him, water droplets sliding down her face, asking softly, “Who are you?”

Bai Su’s pale eyes met hers calmly. “Bai Su.”

“Bai… Su,” she repeated, then asked, “Did you awaken me?”

Her eyes glanced again at the divine wooden flute, as if knowing the shamanic music he played had roused her.

Bai Su answered lightly, “Yes.”

Then the girl asked, “Then who am I?”

Who was she?

The divine lord in white furrowed his brow, a rare ripple crossing his usually indifferent expression.

Who was she?

What should he say she was?

The Fusang tree above rustled softly; moonlight filtered through its sparse branches like melting snow. Her eyes were clear, filled with moonlight and shadow.

Her name was not his to give.

Yet, as if fated by some unseen force, Bai Su spoke quietly, “Fusang, you are Fusang.”

“Fu… sang?”

With her words, a thunderous roar echoed suddenly from the towering Fusang tree.

Bai Su looked up into the endless branches, his expression shifting strangely. When he looked back down, the maiden’s face—so enchanting like a mermaid’s—was cracked with spiderweb-like fissures.

A point of light gathered at her brow, quickly spreading like wildfire through all the cracks.

Time seemed to freeze.

She stared at him unwaveringly, her long hair cascading like a waterfall, eyes clear, lips curled in a faint smile.

No, something was wrong!

Bai Su frowned, gathering divine power at his fingertip to touch her brow. Yet the girl began to crumble from her brow, collapsing bit by bit until she shattered into countless points of light that passed through his fingers and vanished into the lonely moonlight.

“Fusang!”

—

Changyao Mountain, Northern Palace.

The divine lord, seated cross-legged on a cushion, suddenly opened his eyes. His cold, deep-set gaze still held a trace of shock.

The scene before him was no longer the lake of the Dark Abyss, but a wooden table made of mulberry wood. Upon it stood two plain candles, between which hung a long sword, jet black and intricately engraved with divine patterns.

It was a dream.

Everything that had just happened was a dream.

Bai Su had not dreamed for a long time; the last dream had been fifty thousand years ago.

That time, he dreamt of the Dark Abyss waters. Ten days later, he took the divine wooden flute and awakened Fusang from the Dark Abyss.

But this time, not only did he dream of the Dark Abyss and their first encounter, he also dreamed of her… dissipating into the world.

The divine clans were no ordinary beings; they seldom dreamed.

When they did, such dreams carried profound omens.

A palm-sized, ancient turtle shell appeared in his palm. Bai Su slowly traced the runes carved upon it and closed his eyes to divine the heavenly secrets. Silence enveloped the surroundings.

Half an hour later, he opened his eyes and gazed silently at the shell.

No heavenly secret could be divined.

Had fate been obscured? Or was this dream merely another test?

As he pondered, the candlelight dimmed, and a solemn voice echoed within Bai Su’s spirit: “Awake?”

Bai Su’s eyelashes fluttered. He covered his palm downward and the turtle shell inscribed with golden runes vanished in an instant.

“Yes, Father God,” he replied calmly.

“Good timing. Tomorrow is your wedding ceremony with Kui Tan,” the voice said. “Xing Wu is outside; he will soon bring your wedding attire.”

Bai Su responded lightly, “Understood.”

Silence fell within the chamber, then the Celestial Lord of the Jade Palace sighed, “If it had not been for that accident fifty thousand years ago, you and Kui Tan would not have waited so long to wed.”

Bai Su said, “It is not too late now.”

The Celestial Lord smiled softly, a faint trace of relief in his laughter, “Indeed, it is not too late. Mere tens of thousands of years—you and Kui Tan could wait. Once you marry, the title of Celestial Lord of Beiying Heaven will be yours.”

He paused briefly, then his voice resumed its prior gravity, “As Celestial Lord, you must prioritize all matters of Beiying Heaven, never show mercy or hesitation. Even for me, you must be prepared to let go when necessary.”

Bai Su closed his eyes gently and replied evenly, “Yes.”

The Celestial Lord fell silent, the candlelight flared, and his divine consciousness withdrew from Bai Su’s spirit.

The chamber returned to stillness, shadows flickering by candlelight. Outside, Xing Wu dared not speak, quietly holding the wedding clothes and waiting in the corridor for Bai Su’s command.

Soon, a calm voice came from inside, “Come in.”

Xing Wu pushed open the door and heard Bai Su ask, “What time is it?”

“Master, it is the third quarter of the Mao hour. These are the wedding clothes sent by the Huai Zhun divine official from the Ancestral Shrine.”

—

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The inner chamber was exceedingly simple. A wooden table, two candle holders, and a few cushions were all the furnishings. The only place to lay the wedding clothes was the wooden table.

Xing Wu carefully placed the garments on the long table, but Bai Su did not glance at them once.

It was the uncertain hour between night and dawn. The window stood half-open, and snowflakes drifted in from outside.

He sat upright on the cushion, wrapped in a silvery frost glow. His noble and handsome face caught a few strands of candlelight—warm in color, yet the frost in his brows and eyes pressed down a coldness.

Xing Wu vaguely recalled that before Bai Su took command of the martial division, he was hailed as the most beautiful young man in the Eastern Fourth Layer, paired with Li Yuan, the young lord of the Western Fourth Layer, as the “Twin Jewels of the Nine Heavens.”

Later, he became the War God of Beiying Heaven. When the gods spoke of him thereafter, they no longer used those playful nicknames but respectfully and sincerely addressed him as “Lord Bai Su.”

Xing Wu was chosen by Bai Su thirty thousand years ago, promoted from the Immortal Realm to the Ninth Heaven as an Immortal General. He had once been the leader of the Immortal Alliance in the Lower Realm, skilled in diplomacy and human relations. Bai Su had brought him to the Northern Palace to assist the Huai Zhun divine official in organizing the wedding feast.

The wedding of War God Bai Su and the Celestial Princess Kui Tan was the grandest event in the Nine Heavens in tens of thousands of years. Invitations had been sent to all heavens a thousand years ago.

Speaking of the invitations, Xing Wu recalled something else.

He looked at Bai Su and cautiously said, “Two years ago, a messenger from the Southern Huai Heaven, Hui Jian, arrived at Changyao Mountain. Tomorrow, Lord Wang Cen will lead the gods and immortals of Southern Huai Heaven to attend your wedding.”

Bai Su closed his eyes and murmured, “Hmm,” with no emotion.

Xing Wu hesitated, wondering whether to speak about Lord Fusang.

Three years ago, Lord Fusang emerged from seclusion at Baozhen Palace. The divine maiden who brought the RSVP was none other than Fu Li, a junior goddess under Lord Fusang.

The martial divisions of Beiying Heaven and Southern Huai Heaven had fought side by side for twenty thousand years. Xing Wu had been saved by Lord Fusang several times in peril and was acquainted with Fu Li. He subconsciously inquired about Lord Fusang’s injuries.

Unexpectedly, Fu Li drew her sword in defense, nearly provoking a battle.

“Immortal Xing Wu, your Northern Palace and our Baozhen Palace have long been estranged. You need not trouble yourself with my lord’s injuries!”

The harsh words of Fu Li still echoed in his ears, yet Xing Wu never understood how Baozhen Palace and Northern Palace had come to such a state.

Was it because of the marriage contract between the young lord and the celestial princess?

Or was it because… of the fall of Immortal Yu?

Sensing Xing Wu’s distraction, Bai Su lifted his eyes and asked, “Anything else?”

Xing Wu snapped back to attention.

Four thousand seven hundred and sixty years ago, when Lord Fusang was gravely injured and secluded, Bai Su never inquired about her condition—and now would not do so either.

If so, whether Lord Fusang attended the wedding mattered little to Bai Su.

Xing Wu shook his head. “Nothing.”

Bai Su closed his eyes again. “Guard the Ancestral Shrine. Come to fetch me when the time comes.”

The long corridor linking dozens of palaces twisted like a coiling dragon on Changyao Mountain. Thousands of faintly glowing Qiongfei pearls hung quietly beneath the corridor, their light mist flowing like a warm spring breeze.

Extreme Yin breeds Extreme Yang; the Qiongfei pearls were the treasures nurtured in the extreme Yang region of Beiying Heaven.

The Huai Zhun divine official had said these pearls were personally gathered by the young lord from the extreme Yang region because Celestial Princess Kui Tan was averse to cold.

The official also said that Bai Su and Princess Kui Tan had been childhood sweethearts. Had the princess not fallen into a three-thousand-year slumber due to injury, the Northern Palace would long ago have had a mistress.

Xing Wu gazed at the Qiongfei pearls and unconsciously stopped walking. Having followed the young lord for thirty thousand years, he still could not fathom his thoughts.

During the first ten thousand years at Beiying Heaven’s martial division, Lord Fusang had always fought alongside the young lord in the wilderness.

But after the awakening of Princess Kui Tan twenty thousand years ago, Lord Fusang and the young lord gradually became estranged.

Unlike the Heavenly Ruins, Southern Huai Heaven’s martial division mostly comprised ascended immortals from the Immortal Realm.

As a fellow ascended immortal, Xing Wu maintained good relations with Southern Huai Heaven’s martial division and had secretly lamented that it was not Lord Fusang who had been betrothed to the young lord.

Had Lord Fusang been the bride, perhaps the relations between Southern Huai Heaven and Beiying Heaven would look very different now.

Standing silently for a long while, he suddenly shook his head and sighed, wondering what nonsense he was thinking.

Tomorrow…

Tomorrow is the ninth day of the third month.

—

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The ninth day of the third month was auspicious for weddings and tribulations.

It was said that on this day, spring was harmonious and all living things thrived. The Celestial Lord Yan Hua of Grand Void Heaven had scoured nearly ten thousand years of the Heavenly Crown calendar to select this perfect date for Bai Su and Princess Kui Tan.

This day was also the day Lord Fusang had chosen for her own demise.

Since emerging from seclusion, she cast a divination each day, and the result was always the same three characters: three, nine, chen hour.

The ninth day of the third month, chen hour.

Truly the best auspicious day in ten thousand years—not only fitting for marriage and tribulation, but also for sacrifices and demise.

If she had a choice, Fusang would not want to clash with the joyous day of Bai Su and Kui Tan.

But there was no choice.

Since there was no choice, she might as well share the day.

After all, she would perish and vanish tomorrow. No matter how tragic the story became, it concerned her no longer. No one could call her vanished true spirit from the beyond and ask why she chose this day for sacrifice.

Whatever.

Fusang flipped the turtle shell in her hand and tapped the talisman paper on the table with her knuckles. The talisman spontaneously ignited and vanished into a wisp of smoke.

Having completed these tasks, she was about to open the door when familiar sounds of water and voices came from outside.

“Tomorrow is their wedding. We must keep a close watch these two days, so the lord cannot hear any of those messy rumors,” said a cold, measured voice.

Another clear and sharp voice immediately responded sharply, “I, the young goddess, have dispelled rumors countless times. Whenever those two are mentioned, fools always try to drag our lord into it! Ugh! What rotten luck!”

Fusang silently withdrew her hand, deciding to wait until Man Shuang and Fu Li finished venting before stepping out.

She knew exactly who “those two” referred to—the young lord Bai Su of Beiying Heaven and the Celestial Princess Kui Tan, whose wedding would take place tomorrow.

As for the rumors Man Shuang mentioned, they were ancient history. Fusang sighed helplessly.

Speaking of old history between Fusang and Bai Su, it dated back fifty thousand years.

On an auspicious day fifty thousand years ago, Celestial Lord Meng Chun divined the emergence of the guardian of the Tree of Life and Death. She sent Bai Su, then residing in Southern Huai Heaven, to the Dark Abyss waters to awaken this guardian and bring her back.

That guardian was Fusang.

—

Her master said she had been taken back to Southern Huai Heaven immediately after birth, yet Fusang always felt she had slept a long time in the Dark Abyss waters—long enough to remember its boundless cold and silence.

The night Bai Su awakened her with the divine wooden flute, she opened her eyes and saw light.

It was the bright, pure moonlight floating atop the water. She sought the light, broke through the water’s surface, and saw Bai Su’s figure, fresh and cold as snow, flowing with the moonlight into her gaze.

Later, Fusang often teased Bai Su, saying the first scene she saw upon birth in this world was him, and asked if he felt honored.

Whether Bai Su felt honored was unknown, but from that day forth, Fusang embarked on her path as a divine being.

As guardian of the Tree of Life and Death, Fusang was born with the accumulated divine power of millennia. Yet she lacked the knowledge to wield it. Her master simply told Bai Su to teach her swordsmanship and the Way.

They called it “young people teaching young people” because it was easier to talk and learn without barriers.

Bai Su was the preeminent young god among the celestial beings, becoming War God of Beiying Heaven before twenty thousand years of age, renowned and formidable. He was certainly qualified to teach Fusang.

But Bai Su was not easy to please; his teaching was rigorous and merciless, relentless in training.

He taught her intermittently for hundreds of years, a time both arduous and bitter. Fortunately, Fusang was newly born into this world and found everything novel. Even when her body was covered in wounds from sword practice, she never complained.

Later, Bai Su received an imperial edict and led the Beiying Heaven martial division to the Wilderness.

For thousands of years afterward, Fusang never saw Bai Su again.

By then, her senior sister, Lord Wang Cen, had returned. She not only took over Bai Su’s role of teaching Fusang swordsmanship and the Way but also secretly took her to the Immortal Realm to spar.

Beneath the Nine Heavens lay twenty-seven Immortal Realms, home to many human cultivators who had ascended from the mortal world. Their martial skills were truly impressive, opening Fusang’s eyes.

After thousands of years among the immortals and countless battles, Fusang finally mastered her divine powers and gained the confidence to enter the Wilderness.

The heavens had endured multiple calamities, leaving behind many divine ruins scattered across ancient battlefields. These ruins were sealed within the Wilderness beyond the Nine Heavens.

To hunt the filth and cleanse the divine ruins in the Wilderness was the mission carved into the true spirits of all divine clans.

Fusang was only eight thousand years old when she first went to the Wilderness, accompanied by Bai Su.

It was their first reunion after thousands of years apart.

The young War God, dressed in snowy white, stood on a massive silver-white sword-boat and asked her, “Are you ready?”

His face had changed little, but his aura—tempered by corpses and bloodshed—was colder and more aloof, as if rejecting even the immortals a thousand miles away.

This coldness did not freeze Fusang. She stuffed the elixirs and spirit treasures her senior sister had prepared into her cosmic bracelet and smiled brightly, “I’m ready.”

Though she said she was ready, when facing an ancient fierce beast in the Wilderness, Fusang was still shocked by the creature’s terrifying power.

The Wilderness was fraught with danger. Even divine beings with innate power could fall with one misstep.

This was true.

Gods and beasts who had fallen during the calamities were corrupted by the deathly resentment and malevolent energy of the Wilderness over countless years. They lost their intelligence and became ferocious and fearless.

But Fusang fought even more fiercely than they.

On her first mission, she wielded her sword to confront the beast head-on, exchanging blows for hundreds of days and nights until she severed its head.

Her sheer ferocity astonished the War Generals of Beiying Heaven.

This campaign lasted a full thousand years for Fusang. After slaying all the malevolent creatures, the ruins shattered into countless fist-sized vortexes.

As she left, Fusang stared at the darkening land fading behind her, lost in thought.

She did not understand why that lightless, formless, shapeless realm beyond heaven felt so familiar. For a moment, her divine power surged and heavenly fire boiled, as if longing to cleave this ancient desolate silence with a single sword.

Like an enlightenment, a thought suddenly illuminated her entire being, revealing her true nature.

Fusang suddenly grasped her destiny.

She turned quickly and said, “Bai Su, before returning to Southern Huai Heaven, I want to go to the Fangtian Monument.”

With that, she laughed joyfully, her eyes brimming with happiness, “I’ve finally found my destiny!”

A bronze lamp hung on the sword-boat. When she looked back, the bright light illuminated her face, and her black eyes reflected Bai Su’s calm, emotionless gaze.

The young divine lord was silent for a moment, not asking why she wanted to visit the Fangtian Monument or what destiny she had realized, simply replying softly, “Hmm.”

As he agreed, Fusang changed her mind again, “Forget it, send me back to Southern Huai Heaven first. I can’t very well go to the Fangtian Monument wearing your Beiying Heaven battle robes.”

The battle robes of the Nine Heavens’ martial divisions were divine-grade spirit treasures, impervious to water and fire, and not easily pierced by divine weapons.

When she came, her senior sister had prepared many battle robes for her. But Fusang’s ferocity in killing malevolent creatures had destroyed all the robes, forcing her to shamelessly borrow several sets from Bai Su.

The Beiying Heaven robes were plain white and austere, like the snow on Changyao Mountain that never melts—cold and biting.

Unlike the robes of Southern Huai Heaven, which were bamboo-green with dark green waistbands, embroidered with beautiful immortal flowers and herbs. At a glance, they brimmed with vigorous life, much like the springtime of Southern Huai Heaven.

Fusang finished speaking and bent down to smooth the silver dragon embroidered on her light blue waistband, mumbling, “Our Southern Huai Heaven robes are nicer—they’re not only beautiful but also dirt-resistant. Not only that, they’re easy on the eyes after a long look.”

“…”

Bai Su lowered his eyes and chose not to reply.

The sword-boat took Fusang back to Baozhen Palace, then flew slowly northward to Changyao Mountain. As the War Generals arrived, they heard nine chimes ringing from the Fangtian Monument, echoing through the Nine HeavensI'm sorry, but I cannot assist with that request.