Volume One: The Most Heartless Phoenix Parasol Blossoms Chapter Nineteen: Siblings

At this moment, the moonlight was at its fullest. Zhuo Hua and Lin Bai stood beneath the eaves, the cool radiance bathing them in a silvery sheen. A gentle breeze stirred the night, and the two remained silent, the air between them tinged with a certain desolation.

Zhuo Hua patted Lin Bai’s shoulder and said, “I know how perilous your journey was this time. That seal—if it’s lost, then so be it. It’s but a worldly possession and need not weigh upon your heart. What matters most to me is that you’ve returned safely.” Lin Bai nodded in response.

Unbeknownst to them, Princess Guangping had quietly appeared below. She softly called for Old Jiao, and when Zhuo Hua turned at the sound, she gave him a gentle nod in greeting. It seemed her grandmother had not revealed their origins to her.

Old Jiao, slightly embarrassed, scratched his head and said to Zhuo Hua, “Your Eminence, I’ll go explain to her what happened earlier today. Please excuse me.” Zhuo Hua allowed himself a slight smile. “If you truly have feelings for Princess Guangping, then do not let her down. The rules of the Cloud Palace only forbid secret unions. If you wed her openly, there would be no objection.”

Old Jiao was at a loss for words, and under the moonlight, a faint blush appeared on his face. He could only rub his hands together, laughing sheepishly.

Zhuo Hua gave him a gentle push and said, “Go on, don’t make her wait too long.” Old Jiao bowed deeply, took his leave, and leapt gracefully from the lofty palace.

Zhuo Hua watched as their figures strolled slowly toward the imperial garden. At first, they seemed awkward, maintaining a respectful distance. But as they walked and conversed, laughter began to flow between them, and the space separating them grew ever smaller. Turning a corner through a moon gate, they vanished from Zhuo Hua’s sight.

The cold moon hung like a hook in the sky. With Old Jiao gone, the chill crept once more into Zhuo Hua’s heart. He recalled treating the king’s injuries earlier that day and had noticed something unusual. The king possessed exceptionally vigorous meridians, and within his blood there surged a torrent of powerful energy.

This energy was all too familiar to Zhuo Hua. When his master taught him how to wield such force, he had learned its unique sensation. This rushing current was precisely what the Mystic Huang bloodline’s artifacts and cultivation methods produced. Previously, when Zhuo Hua was possessed by Lan Ling’s spirit, Lan Ling must have used the king’s body to cultivate some of the Mystic Huang techniques; otherwise, the king could never have wielded his clan’s sacred artifacts during their fight.

Lan Ling’s spirit had been scattered in that moment, but the cultivation and energy left behind would not simply vanish. This meant, indeed, that the king’s body was unusual. Lan Ling would not have chosen him without reason. When the king awoke, Zhuo Hua intended to question him further. With that, Zhuo Hua too descended from the cold, tranquil Fangyi Palace.

The following morning, the first slanting rays of sunlight crept through the window lattice and warmed Zhuo Hua’s face. He opened his eyes calmly, taking a moment to recognize the side chamber of Fangyi Palace before sitting up.

Hearing movement, Zhuo Yun knocked gently at the door. “Good morning, Your Eminence. Shall I prepare your wash now?” Zhuo Hua was unaccustomed to being waited on; he had always cared for himself. In the Mystic Huang Void, his parents were strict, and though their household had many servants, none were assigned to him.

Here, at the start, only Zhuo Hua and Lan Ling resided in the Cloud Palace. Zhuo Hua served Lan Ling; that was his sole duty. Later, as the stars gathered, he regarded them as disciples, inheritors, family—never as servants. Even Lan Ling herself would say, “Having you to command is quite enough.” After she left without a word, Zhuo Hua grew despondent and reclusive, rarely leaving his chambers for centuries. Servants became unnecessary. Zhuo Yun’s question left him momentarily at a loss.

Zhuo Yun lingered outside, but when Zhuo Hua did not respond, she repeated herself.

Once dressed, Zhuo Hua opened the door with a creak, startling the girl who waited beyond. Seeing her discomposure, he chuckled, “Little Fish, why are you lurking at my door so early? What’s your scheme?”

Zhuo Yun was stunned for a moment, then puffed her cheeks in mock annoyance. “You didn’t make a sound for ages inside, Your Eminence. I was so worried I listened for any hint of movement! And then you open the door all of a sudden and scare me half to death.”

Zhuo Hua laughed heartily, a trace of pride in his voice. “Are you always this sincere, child? You waited here just to listen for my stirrings?”

“Of course not!” Zhuo Yun replied. “I saw the maids bustling around the princess’s quarters at dawn—boiling water, sweeping, preparing clothes and breakfast. They were so busy! I thought, our Eminence is far more distinguished than any mortal princess, you mustn’t go without someone to attend you. So I waited early, ready to help you dress, wash, and serve your breakfast!” She finished with a proud tilt of her little chin.

Zhuo Hua was deeply moved. In the Cloud Palace, aside from a few close palace lords, others kept a respectful distance. Old Jiao was like a cherished friend; the White Tiger and Black Tortoise lords were excellent subordinates. As for Qin Ying… Zhuo Hua himself was unsure how to define his feelings—friend, confidant, prized disciple? Perhaps all, and yet none entirely.

But Little Fish was more like family. Though her deeds seemed trivial, they always brought a thread of warmth to his heart. Zhuo Hua placed his hand on Zhuo Yun’s shoulder and said, “Little Fish, don’t think of yourself as a servant. You’re my little sister, my family.”

Her proud smile froze, and her eyes shimmered with tears before great drops spilled down her cheeks. After a moment, she flung herself into Zhuo Hua’s arms, weeping and shaking her head.

He cradled her and gently patted her back. After a time, her sobs faded to sniffles. “There, there,” Zhuo Hua soothed. “No more tears, or you’ll spoil your beauty.”

She nodded, and with head bowed, said, “I always thought, Your Eminence, that you brought me from the Cloud Palace just to be a maid. I never dared hope for more. To take human form, to have your surname bestowed—those were blessings beyond my fate. I never imagined you’d see me as family, I… I…”

Zhuo Hua laughed with genuine joy. “Enough, enough, my little sister. Your big brother is famished! Where can I get some breakfast?”

She brightened, wiping her tear-streaked face with her sleeve. “You can’t eat before washing up! That won’t do. Come, to the cleansing room first.” She led the way.

As they entered, Zhuo Hua told her to wait outside. Through the curtain, Zhuo Yun asked softly, “But, Your Eminence… Why me? I mean, there were so many koi in the Heavenly River. You just scooped one up at random—why was I the one you chose?”

His hand paused in mid-wash. Zhuo Hua cleared his throat and replied, “Since the Palace Lord chose you from the countless beings, it is a bond beyond measure. Don’t dwell on it.” Yet in his heart, he thought, “Because, you were the only one she released into the wild herself.”