The Binsair Palace spread like a stone sea; we needed more than an hour to walk its shores. What stayed with me was this: every hall and garden felt like bonsai, all elegance and restraint. It wasn’t the open sky and drumbeat of the Proud Moon Palace. It was filigree in jade, a unique allure carved with patient hands.

The welcome banquet flowed smoothly, like warm wine under lantern light. The Binsair royals were all warmth, a bit too much, heat licking past the edges of polite fire. Princesses and noble ladies drifted over like moths to a lantern. If not for Lingxiao and Lingsaki’s guarded stares, they’d have swarmed us already.

I also noticed the hall was a field of young faces, mostly women like spring blossoms. The only men were Colton, Getuya, and two or three old nobles, gnarled like winter pines. Lesson learned, perhaps; no one wanted another mess to sprout.

“Palace kitchens, huh? So much food!” Lanxia mumbled, munch, munch. “It’s not as tasty as what Mizumi makes,” munch, munch, “but it’s still great!”

No doubt, Lanxia was the happiest; a dragon at heart eats like a wildfire. Good thing Colton had told every palace chef to cook with both hands and both feet. Otherwise this welcome would’ve run dry like a well in drought.

Seeing her eat with that tailwind of joy, Colton looked honored, like a farmer staring at full granaries.

“Honestly, it’s a welcome, not a flower market. Why so many women?” Lingxiao’s tone had thorns.

“Same here. Without us, dear brother would be buried under them, unable to move,” Lingsaki said, nibbling a dessert like a sparrow.

“With the Mizumi Clan name alone, few women could resist,” Lixue said, voice calm as snow. “Add that Emperor is a beautiful youth, and those princesses stand no chance.”

Heat pricked my ears; being praised as a pretty boy in public felt like sunlight too close to skin.

“Ah-ha-ha… If I’d met Mizumi for the first time in a place like this, I’d probably react the same,” Nalu said. She’d been stiff since the start, like a fish out of water, not used to crowds.

“You’re flattering me,” I said, a little sheepish, “but a lively crowd’s nice—so long as it doesn’t trip us.”

“Since dear big brother wants it, fine,” Lingsaki said.

“It’ll end soon anyway,” Lingxiao added.

They yielded, barely, like cats with flattened ears, still eyeing the princesses with a thin edge.

Good thing Colton couldn’t read their thoughts. If he knew his “thoughtful” guest list soured the very guests he needed to please, he’d twist his guts green with regret. The wicked part of me found that image funny, like ink blooming in water.

“Huh? Something delicious just landed over there,” Lingsaki perked up. “Dear big brother, let’s go before that dumb dragon Lanxia spots it!”

“Color, aroma, taste—all singing. Move,” Lingxiao said, eyes bright as lanterns.

“Eh—hey?!”

Before I could react, they seized both my hands and pulled. We sprinted eight meters west, toward a table where fresh dishes still steamed like morning mist.

We were a step late. Lanxia blinked into place by the table, lifted a platter, and tilted it toward her mouth, bold as a cliffside wave.

“Lanxia, you dumb dragon! We saw that first. Drop it!”

“Hands off. No stealing.”

They let me go and lunged at Lanxia, swift as swallows.

“Heh-heh—food at my lips doesn’t fly away,” Lanxia sang.

Rare for her, the usually obedient Lanxia didn’t yield; she hugged the platter and bolted. The sisters chased; their skirts flared like petals in wind. I couldn’t help laughing.

Colton, Getuya, and the old nobles tightened like bowstrings. “Terribly sorry! We didn’t prepare enough of that dish. Please don’t fight over it. I’ll have the kitchens make more at once!”

I stepped to Colton’s side; I couldn’t stand the overdone deference. “Relax. They’re just playing. No one’s truly fighting over food.”

Another ruler, Eastern Moon Aotian, had stood balanced like a mountain. When he faced me, Xinuo, and Hill, he neither groveled nor flattered. He spoke with a calm heart. His steadiness outmatched Colton’s by a long mile.

“Really? That’s a relief,” Colton said, mopping cold sweat like rain from his brow. Getuya and the old nobles exhaled with him.

“Do my sisters look that petty?” I asked, mock stern, voice like a tapping fan.

“No, no! We’d never think that,” Colton and the others shook their heads like rattled gourds. Then Colton forced a subject change. “Um… may I ask a question?”

“What’s the question?”

He hesitated, then said, “From what I know, the Central Continent has the best environment. Why would you come to the Northern Abyss Continent to ‘suffer,’ Lord Mizumi?”

“I didn’t come here on purpose. I’m on a world journey, and right now my road happens to pass through the Northern Abyss Continent.”

“A world journey, huh? How good,” he murmured, eyes sinking into memory like dusk. “I loved to roam when I was young. But I got bored fast. Travel, in plain words, is just looking at places others got sick of. After enough roads, it all feels empty.”

He blinked back and scratched his nape, sheepish. “Sorry. That killed the mood.”

“It’s fine,” I smiled and shook my head. “You’re not wrong. Travel isn’t as comfortable as staying home by a warm stove. But my biggest dream is to walk the whole world and see it with my own eyes. A lifetime of idle ease isn’t what I’m after.”

“It fits you, Lord Mizumi,” Colton said. He looked up at the high, delicate lanterns, like moons caged in silk, and sighed. “This world is vast. Few across the ages dare say they’ve walked it all. I sincerely hope your dream comes true.”

“I’ll take your blessing,” I said.

…