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Yue Mi awoke after tens of thousands of years to the sound and scent of rain falling across the stony mountainside. In the dead of night, in this secluded courtyard of a lonely palace on Purple Moon Mountain, the long-lost goddess of the moon and stars, opened her eyes with a quiet sigh. Her thoughts were unsettled, consciousness returning with gentle slowness.
Her fingers rose to press at the center of her chest.
Bai Shuo.
Fan Yue.
The sharp ache of a short lifetime. The tragedy of a love tribulation between two gods.
Yue Mi finally turned her head to look at the dim room where her body had been installed on this soft bed. The person she wanted to see, and who she dared not see, was not beside her. Instead, seated half-concealed by a lacquer screen beside a paper lantern, was the relaxed figure of a young man dressed in simple green robes.
He paused while toying with a little wooden doll, looking up the moment she looked at him. His big, dark eyes were wide and trembling.
“Mistress,” he called softly as she spoke affectionately, “Pig Dragon.”
Zi Han, one of the most powerful creatures left in this world, frowned helplessly.
Yue Mi stretched languidly, so many things in her heart and mind leaving this new divine body to feel like it had just drunk too much wine the night before.
“He left you to accompany me?” she asked with a sad smile.
Zi Han stood with a sigh, muttering to himself and watching as this miraculously reborn goddess slowly sat up in the brocade bed.
“He did.”
“And…” An ancient heartache stopped her words. She’d almost asked, ‘Where is he?’
But, even before she’d died once for him, she’d long been far too proud to speak her mind. If Tian Qi wasn’t going to put himself in front of her, did she even need to see him?
As Bai Shuo she’d killed Fan Yue, and that vivid piece of her wanted nothing more than to run to his side and throw herself at his feet. But, now that she’d been reborn as Yue Mi and him as Tian Qi, she at least knew it had been a just reversal of fortune. It only made them even, since he’d been so stupid for so many years before he’d become Fan Yue.
He’d been stupid, and her even more stupid for loving him to death.
“I told him to stay here,” Zi Han replied, letting out a heavy sigh. “Goddess, you know better than anyone how dumb that old god is.”
She almost laughed, only able to force a smile past her grief.
“I’m glad he’s fine,” she said.
“Eh,” Zi Han noised sullenly. She thought of all the times his overbearing demon master had bullied him as a little wooden pig.
“Pig Dragon,” she called, casting off the gloom. “I’d like to stroll around your master’s house and hear about the past before I go. Accompany me.”
“Of course.” The little dragon bowed obediently.
Zi Han assisted her all the way around the half-broken Purple Moon Palace, clearly fulfilling his master’s orders and answering all her questions along the way. By the time their tour and talk came to an end, the day had turned back to night and the rain had turned to a quiet sky full of slowly drifting clouds. They stood in the crumbled entrance hall of the palace, a pair of drifting lanterns accompanying them in the dark.
Yue Mi reached out to stroke the fragile paper lantern beside her, watching the warm fire dance within as Zi Han stood quietly next to her. The flames in these lanterns were like the two gods’ souls—hopeful, ephemeral, staunchly burning on through the night. Tian Qi had burned himself in the tower’s fire to shorten her rest just a few years. He’d broken his soul apart and become a clueless but precious block of wood who followed her all day, calling ‘Master!’ everywhere they went.
“Thank you for your help.” She smiled warmly at the dragon brat beside her. “In a few years, after you’ve cleaned up this mess, I’ll come down to steal a few treasures with you, okay?”
Zi Han’s face paled. Not only would he incur his master’s wrath and jealousy if the goddess descended to play around with him—she’d definitely take all the best loot back home with her! Yue Mi couldn’t help laughing at his strained expression.
“I’m going to visit old friends. Take care.”
Her words were light. Before disappearing in a flash of silver dust, she raised her hand to the sky, brushing away the clouds so the moon and stars could shine down on the mountain. Even if she wanted to avoid Tian Qi for a few thousand years, she wouldn’t leave him without her light for another day.
She knew Chong Zhao had received Jin Yao’s mercy and been brought under his house arrest with Fu Ling. Once it was clear he’d played a part in the successful tribulations of Tian Qi and Yue Mi, the scope of those almost-realm-shattering events reduced the weight of his actions by a few jin.
It was said an overbearing god wearing black robes had appeared suddenly just to assure he was saved from death. Although he’d sneered at the young once-immortal once-devil, he’d made sure everyone under heaven knew Chong Zhao should be given the chance to live and repent.
Yue Mi wore a smile when she overheard this tale as she sat and sipped flower tea at a rustic venue in Nanhai City.
She never once thought of going to see Chong Zhao. Her fate with him had been a single tough strand of silk. It was never meant to be enough to make a blanket and now that it was cut there was no reason for them to keep holding onto it. Tian Qi seemed to care more about this almost-nothing thread of hers than Yue Mi did.
Bai Shuo and Fan Yue had managed to fall in love and mutually confess in their brief time together. Of course she knew he went to check on Chong Zhao because he knew it was one of the many duties he owed her after his multiple lifetimes of making things difficult for her.
Of course, since he was just a dumb block of beautiful wood, he may have selfishly taken it upon himself to secure Chong Zhao’s fate and keep him far away from any Bai Shuo who remained in this world.
Either way, Yue Mi let the rumored tale of Tian Qi drift into her ears, sipping tea and letting him repent on his own.
Rather than chasing him, it was more fun to wander around for a while.
It was more fun to play tricks on Mu Jiu, watching him squirm under Chang Mei’s forceful gaze as his old friend Little Bai graced the Fox Clan with a visit and left it with a gift, spreading a cloud of eternal stars over the surface of Tranquil Lake.
It was more fun to descend to Bright Moon Palace and tease Hua Hong by stealing a few jugs of wine and leaving the rafters of the hall strewn with bright red flowers.
It was more fun to surprise the little donkey who thought he was good at hiding with a kiss on the cheek. He was Fan Yue’s little brother, after all. She wouldn’t leave that little bodhi twig to waste away.
Countless other places were fun to visit, countless things were fun to do.
Yue Mi had learned a few precious things from Bai Shuo, the foremost being how to treasure her life.
The secondmost was how to wait for someone to confess without running after him day and night.
Bai Shuo hadn’t lived long enough to vent her anger and frustration. Yue Mi was happy to get back at someone on her behalf.
In both lifetimes, she’d loved to play around, loved to collect precious things, and loved one person unwaveringly through joy and sorrow.
She knew that person well. So, she didn’t have to worry. Maybe they would cross paths in the mortal realm, strolling down a bustling street. Maybe in the heavens under a sea of peach blossoms she’d catch him resting by a placid little pond. Maybe in Bu Ji’s towering dance hall they’d meet by the red jade throne and reminisce over an amusing show together.
If she’d awoken to find him holding her hand as she slept on Purple Moon Mountain, she wouldn’t have let him go.
But Tian Qi being a bit of a fool wasn’t anything new to her. By making her wait he was just building up more favors that he’d owe when they finally saw each other again.
After a few months of wandering, she’d decided that the three carts of birthday wine she’d given him would be enough of a bridal gift, even if he was just going to give it back to her. After all, his never properly accepting them was one of his biggest crimes. The least he could do was share.
After visiting her oldest friend in heaven, she went to wait for him by a glassy pool reflecting a violet, sickle-shaped moon.
It had been a year. If that block of wood didn’t catch up to her today she’d start thinking about how to send him back for another few tribulations to wise up.
She gazed up at the perfectly clear sky, considering adding a star here or there in the velvet expanse. Behind her someone slowly walked up the path, perhaps giving her the chance to leave, perhaps giving himself time to breathe. His heavy robes brushed the emerald grass. Two jars of wine clinked together, hanging from his tightly clenched fist.
She turned around, not waiting for him to crest the hill. He stopped, staring at her with wide eyes. Striding over, her lips curled into a smile. She looked down at him from the top of the rough steps. Seeing this divine power with such a fragile expression, she felt she’d finally gotten justice after all these years.
“Big Demon,” she laughed. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I was wrong,” he immediately replied, his deep voice striking her heart after so many years without hearing it.
She felt a hot tear slide down her cheek. His eyes began to redden as he continued to stare up at her.
“What else?” she asked, her voice a rasp around the hard lump in her throat.
“Thank you.”
She laughed, letting her tears fall. “For?”
She watched the most ineligible bachelor in the universe swallow, his throat bobbing. His lips finally started to bend up.
“For your patience.”
“For your friendship.”
“For your affection.”
“For living.”
She reached out her hand to touch his face, her fingers shaking. He lifted his own hand, clasping her palm, pressing it against his cheek. His grasp was warm.
“I died twice for you. Aren’t you going to thank me?” her lips trembled, the words passing her throat like mouthful of clotted blood.
“I don’t dare,” he replied. His own voice was hoarse now. “I won’t encourage you to try it again.”
“Then you’d better not leave my side from now on. Understand?”
“Understood.”
With this last word, she was swept into his arms. Their tens of thousands of years of longing crashed together, destroyed in an instant with a single desperate kiss.
Someone in the heavens was looking down at them through a mirror, drunkenly leaning against a wooden railing in the Star-Picking Pavilion. She laughed suddenly and loudly enough to scare every divine bird out of its roost for miles around.
In the three realms, the stars were shining brightly enough to stun. The full moon, for a moment, seemed to have turned purple.