Chapter 4

Moonlit Encounter

Before going to sleep that night, I couldn’t help but secretly ask my mother again what that word meant. She was tucking me in and was just about to explain when my father suddenly entered the room and called her outside. Then, to my surprise, he leaned against my bedhead, running his fingers through my hair, clearly intending to coax me to sleep. 

Father was always busy with affairs of state and rarely spent time like this with us. His presence left me feeling both surprised and a little pampered. 

At that moment, moonlight spilled through the latticed window, soft and radiant, carrying petals with it that landed gently on my bedside. Father said, “Eloping means that two people who love each other, but whose relationship is not approved by others, run away together to a faraway place…” 

My father had a resolute and dignified face, but when he was gentle, he became the most tender father in the world. Tilting my head, I rested it playfully in the palm of his hand and said, “Oh, but isn’t that a wonderful thing?” 

Father replied, “For some people, it might be. But for a Princess of Suzhou, it’s far from good.” 

I pondered for a moment and asked, “So, I must never do such a thing in the future, right?” 

Instead of answering me directly, Father said, “Wei’er, when you were little, you loved listening to the stories I told. Do you still remember the story of the God Yinzé and his sister?” 

“Yes!” My spirits lifted instantly. “But tell it again! That’s my favorite story.” 

“Very well.” Father fell silent for a moment, then began speaking in a slow and measured tone. “In ancient times, there was a god by the name of Yinzé, who served the Celestial Emperor. His power over water was unparalleled…” 

This divine figure presided over the water sources of heaven and earth, able to freeze seas into deep ice. He was revered among the celestial gods. However, Yinzé was also the most selfish, proud, and unloving among the deities. The only person he cared about was his elder sister. 

His sister, heartbroken over her unrequited love, wept endlessly. To cheer her up, Yinzé drew divine waters to the North Sea and used their power to create a floating city. He called it Suzhou and surrounded it with divine waters named the Luoshui River. On the fifteenth of every month, the city would witness a spectacular sight: lotus flowers in full bloom, petals flying like a storm of red, and a great full moon dominating the night sky, turning the city into a silver-white wonderland. This breathtaking view finally brought a smile to his sister’s face. 

Unfortunately, that smile did not restore her spirits. Years later, she passed away, consumed by her grief. Overwhelmed by sorrow, Yinzé never returned to Suzhou again. 

The waters of Luoshui were imbued with spiritual energy, and Suzhou, situated near the celestial realms, retained traces of Yinzé’s divine power. Over time, this energy fostered life, breathing vitality into the empty city. A century later, the Suzhou people were born. They were physically beautiful, with azure hair and snow-white skin, inheriting Yinzé’s divine powers. From birth, they could master the art of soaring through water. The Suzhou people quickly rebuilt Suzhou into a thriving capital city. Having endured the loss of his sister, Yinzé also learned to care for others and became the patron god of Suzhou, watching over its people ever since. 

Finishing the story, Father gently patted my head and said, “You see, the God Yinzé was originally a selfish man, but in the end, he chose to protect us. This shows that none of us live solely for ourselves.” 

I was growing sleepy and nodded drowsily in agreement. 

“Wei’er, remember this: no matter what happens in the future, never forget that you are Luo Wei, a Princess of Suzhou, and my daughter. This is both your destiny and your responsibility.” 

I heard his words but didn’t truly grasp their meaning. I yawned softly, murmured a faint “Mm,” and snuggled into his arms before falling into a deep sleep. 

After that day, as the sun rose and set, two troubling truths gradually dawned on me: First, my eldest sister truly had left and was now completely out of contact. Second, my new foster brother had firmly resolved to establish his role as “elder brother,” pursuing this goal with relentless determination and no regard for propriety. 

One evening, the Marquis of Military Command visited the Purple Tide Palace with his family. While he and my father played chess deep into the night, his wife strolled through the gardens with my mother, admiring the flowers and moonlight. Meanwhile, their son joined my siblings and me in the corridors to snack and play games. 

I was particularly delighted because among the snacks was my favorite Su Lotus Cake—though it was made with ordinary lotus petals, not the legendary Su Lotus. Su Lotus was an extremely rare flower that I’d only ever read about in legends. Nevertheless, the Su Lotus Cake that night was soft, fragrant, and delicious, and I ate quite a lot of it. 

Unfortunately, it turned out that Han Mo, the Marquis’s son, shared my taste in desserts. What began as a verbal dispute over the last piece escalated into a physical altercation. Fu Chen Zhi, ever the dutiful foster brother, immediately stepped in to protect me. In the end, Han Mo found himself with a face full of mud and ice chunks—all thanks to Fu Chen Zhi’s help, of course. 

At that moment, I thought having an older brother was quite nice.

But truly, it was only for a moment. 

After eating so much, I grew so sleepy that I could barely keep my eyes open. As the night deepened, Mother sent someone to escort us back to rest, but I stubbornly refused and sent them away. Fu Chenzhi also came over to persuade me to go to bed, but of course, I ignored him as well. After several failed attempts to convince me, he did something utterly outrageous: he expressionlessly pulled a flower branch from a vase and dumped all the water onto Hanmo’s head. 

Hanmo roared in fury. Fu Chenzhi calmly stuck the flower branch back into the vase, placed it precisely where it had been, then walked around behind me and pinched both sides of my waist. 

“Ahaha! Hahaha!” I couldn’t stand being tickled and burst out into wild laughter, which echoed through the night. 

Mother and the military marquis’s wife hurried over to see what was happening. They saw Hanmo drenched like a drowned rat, the vase emptied of water, shards of ice scattered across the floor, and me, wide-eyed with shock. Mother shot me a frosty glare as cold as the moonlight. 

I was utterly speechless, but Fu Chenzhi calmly declared, “This isn’t my sister’s fault. It was all me.” 

Mother, initially skeptical, was now certain that I was the troublemaker. 

In the end, she scooped me up like a naughty puppy and personally carried me back to my room to ensure I went to bed. Along the way, she scolded, “Why are you pouting? Why are you glaring at your elder brother? He was trying to take the blame for you. Even though I saw through it, are you really still upset with him?” 

Still, I shot Fu Chenzhi a sidelong glare. He raised an eyebrow, pinched my cheek behind Mother’s back, and mouthed silently, “What now?” Then, with a perfectly straight face, he continued to deliver his smooth, saccharine nonsense: “Little sister is so adorable, even her temper is endearing.” 

“If Duke Qingfu remains alive, the troubles of Lu will not end.” I vowed to remember this grudge! 

From then on, Fu Chenzhi and I were at loggerheads, locked in a battle of wits and strategy. Unfortunately, he always managed to outwit me, his composed demeanor and righteous facade making him a force to be reckoned with. His unshakable, coffin-like stoicism was a powerful weapon, forever cold and upright, leading everyone around us to side with him over me. I waited and waited, and finally, a great opportunity presented itself—a magnificent festival: the Day of Pearl Gathering. 

As the name suggests, the Day of Pearl Gathering is when we go to the sea to collect pearls. On this day, the people of Suozhao gather in groups to leave the city and descend to the mortal world. Above the Northern Sea, we collectively use our water manipulation techniques to create whirlpools, parting the seawater to reveal the seabed below. Then, others dive down to search for clams and pearls. The phrase from the Song of Suozhao, “Wild geese hold pearls, falling into the blue sea,” originates from this very tradition. 

And so, my plot and schemes would also unfold here. 

That day, the skies were clear and bright, the azure sea glimmering beneath the radiant sun. Father and Mother, along with the court officials, conducted the ceremonial pearl-gathering ritual. My second sister, Fu Chenzhi, and I were grouped together. We rode atop the same Yi bird, heading toward the Northern Sea. 

Once the ceremony concluded, thousands of Suozhao people simultaneously activated their water-manipulation magic. In an instant, countless slender streams of water rose from the sea’s surface. From a distance, they looked like hundreds and thousands of hooks drawing out strands of silk—a breathtakingly beautiful sight. When the seabed’s rocks were revealed, many people leaped down, prying open fresh clams to retrieve the glistening, snow-white pearls within. 

Yi birds are five-colored creatures with wings wide enough to cover an entire village. Running from one end of its back to the other required some effort. Taking advantage of my sister’s momentary absence as she dove into the sea to collect pearls, I dragged Fu Chenzhi to the bird’s tail. Flashing a mischievous grin, I said, “Baozi Fu, your tricks have run dry, and now it’s my turn to rise! Down you go!” 

With that, I jumped off the bird myself, diving headfirst into the sea. 

As I descended, I heard Fu Chenzhi gasp sharply. 

What does it mean to harm oneself a thousand times just to wound the enemy by eight hundred? This was it. Once they pulled me out of the water, I would pin all the blame on Fu Chenzhi, that sly tortoise-bun! Let’s see if he still dared to mess with me afterward. As I stretched out my arms, preparing to embrace the ocean... 

Suddenly, a massive wave surged, and within a radius of dozens of miles, a colossal whirlpool appeared. In the parted waters at the center of the whirlpool, a monstrous maw emerged! 

The mouth was massive, nearly as large as the whirlpool itself. I let out a scream, trying to dodge, but the beast lunged upward, extending a claw to seize me. As it fully emerged from the water, I realized it was a dragon. 

It was four zhang long, its scales a mix of green and black, its golden eyes blazing like fire, and its crimson markings resembling woven silk. Its description matched perfectly with the records of a Panlong. 

Panlong are highly venomous. A single scratch from them is fatal. 

Realizing this, I dared not make any sudden moves. But I couldn’t stop the tears of terror that streamed down my face. 

Whether others recognized it or not, all the Suozhao people were terrified by its appearance. Cries of alarm erupted as they fled in panic. Fu Chenzhi turned the Yi bird back and flew toward me, attempting to confront the beast, only to be swatted away by a single claw, sending him hundreds of steps back. 

The Panlong gripped me tightly, making it hard to breathe. Then, something even more terrifying happened: it let out a thunderous roar, summoning towering waves and shaking its body violently before rushing eastward across the sea. 

In the blink of an eye, my kin had turned into tiny black dots in the distance, and moments later, they vanished entirely into the dim clouds and mist. 

The vast sea stretched endlessly like the heavens. The wind howled and the waves churned, but to the Panlong, it was as smooth as walking on solid ground. As the sun set and darkness fell, I could no longer suppress my fear and burst into uncontrollable sobs. Yet no matter how much I cried, it had no effect on the beast’s terrifying speed… 

Hundreds of zhang? Thousands? I had no idea how far it had carried me. All I knew was the slicing wind and rain stung my face. Any shadow of an island that appeared on the horizon was swiftly left behind. 

Then came a thunderous cracking sound. The waves froze in place, the winds trembled, and from the sea, water surged into the sky, forming an enormous ice gate. It glistened like a blade in the moonlight, halting the Panlong in its tracks and freezing the surroundings into a deathly stillness. 

The Panlong clenched me tighter, nearly making me vomit. Then, it slowed its pace and turned toward a towering, desolate cliff along the coast. I heard the cracking of ice and looked down to see that even the seawater had frozen solid. The sound came from the Panlong’s claws breaking through the ice. 

Night had fallen. The bright moon hung in the sky, appearing small as a silver-white disk. I had never seen the moon so far away. Everything on the sea, from the dark blue ice to the vast expanse, felt ethereal and dreamlike, as though I had fallen into a surreal dream. 

The coiling dragon ascended along the cliff, hovering in mid-air at the summit, humbly lowering its head.

At the very peak of the cliff stood a scarlet pavilion among pines. Inside the pavilion were jade flasks and crystal cups. A young man stood before the pavilion with his back to us. He was tall and upright, his black hair flowing like water, his robe billowing like smoke, trailing in deep blue folds as boundless as the night sea.

The young man commanded in a deep voice, “Release her.”

The coiling dragon, now bereft of its earlier ferocity, carefully and gently placed me on the edge of the cliff. Then, a golden pill floated out from the folds of the young man’s robe, landing in the dragon’s claws.

The young man said, “This is worth a hundred water spirits. Be on your way.”

The dragon lowered its gaze at the golden pill, its golden eyes brimming with delight. Bowing its head toward the young man in acknowledgment, it let out a long roar before diving off the cliff and disappearing into the depths of the sea.

I knelt on the ground, my soul nearly escaping me. Staring at the young man’s back, I wanted to say something, but my trembling voice couldn’t form a single word.

I was too young to wield powerful magic. Yet even from ten miles away, I could instinctively sense the divine power emanating from this man.

He didn’t speak to me, instead stepping into the pavilion and pouring himself a cup of wine.

Under the serene moonlight, the sound of wine cascading into the cup was soft and tranquil.

His presence was ethereal and unrestrained, like a celestial being shrouded in moonlight, unreachable and otherworldly.

At last, he turned slightly, casting me a glance with a faint, mocking smile. “Little water spirit, you’re rather bold.”

At this moment, an ordinary person might have asked who he was. But I responded earnestly, “I am of the Suozhao clan, not some water spirit.”

“A water spirit is a water spirit. Why bother with so many names?” Though he smiled, his tone was dismissive, as if I were beneath notice.

My clothes were soaked through, and I was covered in mud. Despite my exhaustion, I stubbornly wiped my face with my sleeve and puffed out my small chest. “I’ve already told you, I am Luo Wei, princess of the Suozhao clan. Don’t go calling me other names.”

He finally stopped insisting and chuckled softly. “Fine, Luo Wei it is.”

I thought, this initial moment of disgrace and my utterly futile insistence on dignity would become the root of countless future woes.

For in the hundreds of years that followed, even after I forgot his appearance and expression from this moment, I could never forget the feeling—this refusal to submit, the urge to prove myself before him.

Perhaps only by doing so could I forget the vast gulf that separated us.

A chasm so wide it could never be bridged, even if I burned my life away and shattered my body in the attempt.