Xiao Zhu had fallen into a deep, dreamless slumber.
She didn't know why, but there was something about Xingyao—this quiet immortal bathed in starlight—that made her feel safe. As if, by simply sitting near him, the entire sky would remain calm.
Even as she slept, her senses faintly registered movement—a cool arm wrapping gently around her back, her body lifted lightly into the air, the faint rustle of celestial robes. She was vaguely aware someone was carrying her, but she was too tired to care.
Xingyao held her like one would cradle a dream—light, careful, thoughtful.
He looked down at the girl curled against his chest.
"This girl... she doesn't guard herself at all," he murmured, voice tinged with wonder and worry.
"She's too trusting."
He sighed softly and continued walking.
The inner chambers of Xingyun Palace glowed with starlight that pulsed softly like a living sky. His sleeping quarters were vast, but serene. Silver lotus lanterns floated in the air, casting reflections across light marble floors veined with star-etched silver. Above, the ceiling shifted like a real night sky, galaxies blooming and fading in slow rotation.
At the center, a crescent-shaped bed made of cloud-quartz hovered above a quiet pool of reflected stars. Xingyao laid Xiao Zhu down gently upon it.
She mumbled something in her sleep and clutched lightly at the fabric of his sleeve before letting go.
From the shadows, several small spirit beasts peeked out.
Xingluo, the golden spirit finch, fluttered to the edge of the bed.
A small, fox-shaped wisp with moon-colored fur curled up beside Xiao Zhu's feet.
Tiny luminous dragons slithered from the pillars, winding curiously around the posts.
Xingyao, watching them, gave a rare smile.
"You lot seem to like her."
Xingluo chirped twice in clear agreement, then nestled into the crook of Xiao Zhu's elbow.
Xingyao walked to the side, reclining on a low lounge carved from pale stardust jade. He leaned an arm along its back and let his gaze rest on the peacefully sleeping girl.
"It must be nice," he said quietly to the stars above, "to be so unafraid."
Far away, high in the clouds to the north, Mo Chen stood atop a silver-glass bridge overlooking a frozen shrine.
____
The mission from the Jade Emperor had taken several days to complete.
An ancient spirit well in the North Celestial Region had grown unstable—a leak in its boundary letting toxic spiritual mist poison the skies.
Mo Chen had sealed it himself, using three days of layered formations and another two of stabilizing divine frost. It had been exhausting work, though he would never show it.
Now, with his task complete, he returned.
Descending silently through a rift in the clouds, he arrived at Ling Yuan Palace.
Snow fell gently over the roof tiles. Everything was still.
The silence, once comforting, now felt unsettling.
He stepped into Qinghui Courtyard.
Empty.
The cushions remained undisturbed. The inkstone sat unused. Even the tea Wenlan had brewed days ago had long gone cold.
Mo Chen's expression didn't change outwardly.
But inside, something broke—quietly, imperceptibly, like frost cracking under too much weight.
Before he could move, the wind shifted.
Three figures rushed in from beyond the barrier.
Yanxia, robes fluttering like fire. Wenlan, composed but clearly anxious. And Qingfeng, his usual smile conspicuously absent.
"She's not here," Mo Chen said calmly, the words like frost cracking.
Yanxia looked stricken. "I—It's my fault," she stammered. "I brought her out. She wandered off, and then—"
"We searched everywhere," Wenlan added quickly. "The Heavenly Wilds, the sky trails... We thought she might just be hiding—"
Qingfeng opened his mouth, thought better of it, and said nothing.
For a breath, Mo Chen said nothing either.
Then he turned away, and the temperature in Ling Yuan Palace dropped sharply.
The stone walls frosted over.
The snow outside began to swirl.
His voice, when it came, was quiet.
Dead quiet.
"You lost her."
Yanxia flinched.
He had never raised his voice. Never scolded. Never even cared enough to be angry.
But now—
He was furious.
The kind of fury that froze rivers.
___
Far across the stars, in the still warmth of Xingyun Palace, Xiao Zhu breathed peacefully, unaware of the storm rising across the sky.
She stirred as morning broke.
Soft starlight filtered down through drifting clouds of mist.
The scent of celestial blossoms filled the air.
Her eyelashes fluttered softly as she blinked awake, starlight reflecting in her dark eyes. For a moment, she lay still, letting the cool scent of star blossoms and drifting mist wrap around her like a blanket.
She wasn't in her own courtyard.
She sat up slowly.
The room shimmered with soft constellations dancing across the ceiling. Silver lanterns pulsed gently with light, and beside her, the golden finch she had healed earlier chirped once, as if in greeting.
Xiao Zhu blinked, then smiled.
Around her, several spirit beasts had gathered: Xingluo the finch nestled on her pillow. A silvery moon fox—curled like a sleepy cloud—stretched and yawned beside her feet. Tiny luminous dragons she hadn't noticed before were coiled along the bedposts, one dangling upside down from the canopy.
A plump, round snail with a shell that glimmered like a tiny galaxy made its slow journey across the bedside table.
She giggled.
None of them felt threatening. In fact, they were warm and curious.
"Are you all his?" she whispered, patting the moon fox's head.
A pair of violet-winged spirit butterflies floated into the room, as if drawn by her voice.
She leaned back into the starlit bedding, soft as cloud-petal down, and hugged her knees.
She should have felt nervous—or at least embarrassed for dozing off in someone else's palace.
But somehow… she didn't.
A faint footfall echoed in the corridor.
She turned her head and saw him.
He walked toward her with the same effortless grace, his white hair flowing like a river of moonlight, his silver robes catching the drifting mist.
Still half-drowsy, Xiao Zhu called out instinctively, "Immortal..."
Xingyao paused at the threshold.
For a heartbeat, he simply looked at her, the starlight catching faintly in his silver eyes.
Then, with a rare warmth, he said, "You may call me Xingyao."
Xiao Zhu blinked.
"Xingyao..." she repeated, soft and uncertain.
Hearing his name from her lips, Xingyao smiled faintly.
Despite his detached nature, he found himself reaching out almost unconsciously —
and lightly patted the top of Xiao Zhu's head.
Her hair was soft, like strands of drifting mist.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked, his voice low and even.
Xiao Zhu nodded eagerly — then froze, a look of horror dawning on her face.
"Oh no!" she cried, scrambling upright atop the bed.
"I'm supposed to stay inside Ling Yuan Palace! Master told me to! And Yanxia — she must be worried I disappeared!"
Panic flitted across her small face, her hands twisting nervously in her sleeves.
Xingyao merely placed a steady hand on her shoulder, lightly anchoring her.
"It's alright," he said calmly.
"I'll take you back in a few days."
A few days — not immediately.
He did not bother informing Yanxia or Mo Chen.
He was... curious.
Curious to see how that famously unshakable god would react
once he realized his precious disciple had vanished.
Turning his gaze back to the little girl perched anxiously on the bed, Xingyao asked, "Is there anything you want to eat?"
Xiao Zhu blinked, startled by the change of subject.
"Eat?" she repeated uncertainly. "But... don't immortals not need to?"
Xingyao's lips curved faintly, almost amused.
"True immortals no longer require food, sleep, or even breath. They nourish themselves on spiritual energy alone."
He let the words sink in for a moment, then added, his voice gentle, "But you're different. You've only just taken human form. You are still... very small."
Xiao Zhu's cheeks turned pink at the word "small," but she listened intently.
Seeing her puzzlement, Xingyao explained further, "Until now, your Master fed you pure spiritual energy while you slept. It was enough to sustain you."
He paused, his gaze light as starlight.
"But now that you are awake, cultivating, and growing, your body has begun to follow mortal rhythms. Until your cultivation matures, you must eat and rest like any ordinary being."
Xiao Zhu nodded solemnly, digesting the explanation.
"Then..." she said hesitantly, hope blooming in her voice,"may I have something sweet?"
A soft huff of laughter escaped Xingyao — light, almost inaudible.
He lifted a hand, and with a flick of his sleeve, a plate of translucent spirit fruits — like jeweled peaches and mist-kissed berries — appeared, floating weightlessly beside the bed.
"Eat slowly," he said, settling back into the nearby seat, his posture as effortless and graceful as a drifting cloud.
"And rest as much as you like."
Xiao Zhu smiled brightly, reaching for the nearest fruit with both hands.
The starlight wrapped around her like a soft blessing as she bit into the sweet, juicy flesh, her small figure glowing with simple, innocent joy.
Thus, she decided she would stay — at least for a little while longer — and enjoy her days in this gentle, comforting place.
This is nice, she thought, nibbling happily on another fruit, as the stars wheeled silently overhead.