The Undying were undying in the truest sense, like embers that refuse to go dark no matter how you stomp them. Even the continent’s three mightiest peoples—the Elves, the Dragons, the Winged—had never managed to kill a single Undying.

Undying meant this: kill one, and they respawn somewhere random across the land, like seeds caught by a fickle wind.

That shameless quirk turned the Undying into the continent’s strongest power, a mountain with no rival peak in sight.

By Undying, people meant Ouyang’s kind. Back then, the Rainbow Fountain drew the gaze of beings from the Second Universe, like a prism luring moths. Because of its appearance, a tide of zombies poured toward the city where the fountain shone.

Ouyang remembered the First Cult and the Temple of the Moon Goddess locked in a death grapple, like thunderheads grinding against each other. Everyone thought the Rainbow Fountain would go to one of them. He thought so too. That war drove the Winged back beyond the far clouds, and even the Dragon clans and Elven royals fell back like waves meeting a cliff.

Just when it all seemed set in stone, a strange guild appeared, a handful of a dozen against bonfires of hundreds. They were a spark in a storm, small yet bright.

But the Crimson Night Star’s first appearance stunned everyone, like a comet stealing noon from the sky. On their debut, they took the Rainbow Fountain by force, the brightest jewel ripped from the crown of fate.

That was the first time Ouyang learned the name Crimson Night Star, and that day the wish to grow strong took root in him, a seed under frost. He envied the moment Fallen Leaf stepped out, robes white as snow, aloof like a peerless swordsman under a cold moon. He envied, too, the dashing backs of Heaven of Light as they left, like cranes vanishing into mist.

Until one day, a guy calling himself the leader of the Crimson Night Star stood before him, and Ouyang learned their offstage days were boring as dry tea leaves, masks off and feet on the ground.

Either way, the Rainbow Fountain was his first memory tied to meeting members of the Crimson Night Star. Seeing the seven-colored spray now, memories surged back like reeds stirring in an old wind, legends that Crimson Night Star carved into the First Era’s first continent.

A smile with a bitter edge tugged at him, like dusk on water, and Ouyang let out a long sigh.

No feast lasts forever. When the curtain fell on the First Era, the Crimson Night Star disbanded. Everyone took a different road, and old legends turned into keepsakes, like pressed flowers in a book. Years crawled and flew; Fallen Leaf became an unbeaten myth, Heaven of Light the supreme sovereign. And the girl who always carried tea leaves and stole moments for black tea later carried a title that rang across the myriad realms: the First Imperial Princess.

“Time… is a butcher’s blade.” His whisper fell like a leaf.

He sighed, but he didn’t drown in the Rainbow Fountain’s dream, a mirage of light on water. In that glow, his mind lifted only old days, laughter that hurt like rain on sunburn, grief that laughed itself mad like wind in a broken chime.

“Crimson Night Star…” He watched the rainbow spray, and in a haze he walked back into that ancient age. On the eve of parting, they stood around the flag that bore the emblem of Crimson Night Star, like stars circling a lone moon. Right hands over hearts, each voice solemn as a bell: “Crimson Night Star, my share of pride lives for you!”

That share of pride lives for you. That share of glory is born for you.

Beside him, Xian felt the weight in him, a stone in a clear stream. She gently squeezed his hand and asked in a small voice, “What’s wrong? Not happy?” The scene was gorgeous as a painted lantern, dazzling as a dream, yet she felt a different tide rolling off him.

“It’s nothing… I just remembered some old things. Back then, there was a fountain much like this…” He trailed off, the words crumbling like dry snow. “Sorry. Got carried away. Let’s just enjoy the Rainbow Fountain.”

Seeing he wouldn’t explain, Xian let the question fall like a petal. Four years ago she would’ve clung and cried till the story spilled, but the girl had grown.

Silent, she only tightened her fingers around his, a quiet knot of warmth, like a small bird lending its weight. She didn’t know if he understood her meaning; her soft hand just held his, and everything stayed unspoken.

There were many people around the Rainbow Fountain, a ring of silhouettes like stones by a lake. Yet all kept a natural hush, watching from a distance as the colors rose and fell.

Morris and Belle were nowhere to be seen, like fish slipping the net; when Ouyang came back to himself, both had vanished.

“Brother-in-law, there’s a public bench over there. Let’s sit and watch from there.” Xian flashed him a playful look, lashes fluttering like moth wings, seeking his nod.

Ouyang nodded without thinking, like a reed to wind.

The bench ran five, six meters long, a plank of shadow under the lights, yet no one sat on it. Seizing the empty moment, Xian pulled Ouyang to the edge seat and claimed it like a fox claiming a sun patch. She took the far right, and Ouyang sat to her left. That left no seat on her right, and Ouyang on her left—no opening to slide into.

Usually, boys would drift over to chat, like sparrows nosing crumbs. Sit Xian on a bench and someone would plant himself beside her to try his luck. Not this time. A few guys peeked from afar and wore the helpless faces of fishermen watching a sudden storm.

Leaning softly against the bench, Xian felt this New Night Festival was the happiest yet, warm as soup on a winter street.

“Brother-in-law, look…”

She tugged Ouyang’s sleeve, fingertip pointing toward a corner where a couple stood caught in the rainbow glow, two figures glazed by color. They faced each other, hesitant as fawns.

At last the guy made up his mind, and the two pressed close, like leaves drawn together by the same current.

“Whoa, they’re kissing. How romantic…” Xian’s long legs in white socks swung like pendulums, and her hand kept tugging his sleeve like a tide.

Prompted by her, Ouyang finally noticed the pair.

“Mm?” Something clicked, a key in a lock, and he nodded heavy as a bell. Seeing that, Xian lit up like a lantern. He finally got it?

A shy smile budded, her cheeks pink as sunrise. She grew restless, then chose, eyes closing, long lashes trembling like brush tips, waiting.

Ouyang ignored his sister-in-law’s rare “oddness,” brushing past it like wind past a chime. He slapped the bench with a sharp thud.

“Damn it. That pair of mutts, throwing a flashbang in public…” A small magic circle bloomed in his palm, thin lines like frost. “Tomason, bring your First Squad here now. We’ve got a couple tossing flashbangs in a crowd. We need to teach those lust-brained mutts a lesson.”

Back when Gluttony twisted three thousand members into wraiths, Ouyang fell, and his soul returned to the Boundless Sea, a candle snuffed and set afloat. Those wraiths were sealed inside Gluttony and escaped annihilation like embers trapped under ash. After Ouyang revived and returned to the Source World, he summoned Gluttony again, and the wraiths came out with him, smoke flowing from a bell.

“Hustle over. Use my position for the lock; pinpoint it yourselves.”

Fuming, Ouyang pinged Tomason, captain of the FFF Brotherhood’s First Squad, anger rising like a storm tide. Couples flaunting love in public—how was he supposed to endure? Don’t punish them now, and tomorrow every street would be a parade of peacocks.

“Hmph. For the safety of all singles, any couple who dares flashbang in front of me gets sanctioned.”

He grinned, feral and crooked, like an evil Demon King stepping from shadow.

Beside him, Xian froze, face flushing rose. Her neat white teeth caught her lower lip, anger and helplessness mixing like salt and honey. “Brother-in-law, let’s not watch the fountain anymore…”

She hauled Ouyang away like a kite pulled from a gust.

“Not watch the fountain? Then where?”

Baffled, he let her tug him through the crowd like a pebble in a stream. He’d been busy dealing with that pair of mutts; who knew his sister-in-law didn’t want to stay. In his eyes, Xian was still that little rascal from back then, and he was soft on rascals. If she didn’t want to stay, he’d go wherever.

She didn’t answer. She towed him through the sea of people for a while, feet weaving like minnows. “Hey, Brother-in-law, for the New Night Festival, where do you want to wander? Or what do you want to do?”

Walking, it hit her—Ouyang had never joined a New Night Festival. From her sister, she knew he’d spent years in another world. This should be his first.

“What do I want? Hm… right now, I want to eat every tasty thing on that snack street from earlier.” At this moment, that was his truest wish: to eat his way across the world.

Xian thought a moment, nodded, and led him toward the snack street, steps light as leaves.

Back on that street, the air was steeped in smells that lifted appetite like steam off rice.

“Brother-in-law, remember when we first met?” Xian bought two skewers of grilled vegetables, handed him one, kept one. “I remember it so clearly. You were eating roasted cabbage. Hee-hee, it felt so funny!”

A tiny flame sprang from her fingertip, flicked over the skewer like a firefly, with no intent to cook what was already cooked.

Roasted cabbage? Ouyang gave her head a light pat, a fingertip ripple, touched that she remembered. Back then, he followed Xi to Ancient Memory Town; he could only cast a small fireball, a spark in a cold night. He’d snatched a big cabbage from a bunch of servants and roasted it in a corner with that tiny flame, guarding it like a miser guards a candle.

Years, they really vanish in a blink, like frost under sun.

They drifted the snack street and tasted everything, good and bad, like birds pecking their way along a riverbank.

No one knew how long it took. White light pooled in the east, and the street still flowed with people like a bright stream.

Meow~ The White Cat scampered up from nowhere, a white streak like snow on wheels. “Ouyang, Ouyang, big news, huge discovery!”

Something was off with the White Cat; it looked wired with worry, tail a bristle brush.

“I just sensed Little Tyrant’s aura!”