“Your Majesty, Lady Sheila of Intelligence sent word—like a falcon returning—that they’ve found a world.”

Liuli, dressed in a black-and-white Mystic Priestess robe, held the report like snow and ink folded in her hands.

Liuli may be a Void Mystic Priestess, but she still stood a valley away from Sheila.

Sheila, once the queen of the Karosen Kingdom, was already a Demigod in the Empire era.

She was the kind who could claim godhood under a star-strewn sky.

When the Empire ended, she ascended early and clean, like dawn breaking.

Her power now sits above Augustine’s peak, so Liuli calling her “Lady” fits.

Ouyang took the detailed report, a moonlit smile sliding to his lips.

That world had once flown the Panworld Alliance banner.

Its patron deity was the Creator God Lingwen.

Back when the Alliance was born, only three Creator Gods stood: Ouyang, Aupu, and Lingwen.

Per Sheila’s message, that world’s skies looked grim.

Lingwen, a Creator God, seemed badly wounded and asleep, like a fallen sun behind clouds.

With their Creator asleep, the lesser gods scattered like startled birds.

They split into camps.

Mortals, tied to their chosen gods, turned the plains into battlefields.

In short, with their chief asleep, the underlings started tearing the house down.

“Liuli, tell Sheila to plant a beacon and move on; leave that world be.”

“Keep charting the Second Space like sailors on a dark sea.”

“As for that world… Lingwen counts as an elder of the Panworld Alliance.”

“I’ll set foot there myself.”

Lingwen was indeed an Alliance elder, even if she’d joined under pressure, like a tree bent by wind.

Knowing that an old acquaintance hadn’t fallen, Ouyang felt warmth rise, like tea in winter.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Carrying Ouyang’s decree, Liuli bowed like a reed in wind, then slipped out of the castle.

After a moment’s thought, Ouyang found Xi, who was with his younger sister Xian, both wielding a “paintbrush” and doodling rainbows across space.

“Wife, want to wander another world?” His voice came like a breeze over water.

Xi was discussing with Xian how to sketch a rainbow bridge with the “paintbrush” when a familiar voice rang out.

Ouyang stepped onto the bridge in his black-and-white checkered clothes.

Beside him stood Bai, the Starlight Angel who shadowed him like moonlight.

“To another world?”

Before Xi could answer, her younger sister was already tugging her hand with a lark’s cheer.

“Me too, me too! Sister, brother-in-law, take me!”

Xian clung to Xi’s arm like a playful child, all sunshine and pleading.

“Aren’t you supposed to start the initial build?”

Xian huffed at Ouyang’s doubt, then spoke with breezy certainty.

“Let those two sprites handle that.”

“It’s rare to go play somewhere else with Sister and Brother-in-law. Of course I’m coming!”

Softness rose first in Ouyang’s chest, the kind that melts ice.

He couldn’t refuse.

Xian only had her sister as family.

If Xi and Ouyang left the Eternal Sleep Continent, she’d be a lone lamp in a dark hall.

“Wait, I haven’t said I’m going. Ouyang, how many times have I told you—don’t call me ‘wife’…”

Her voice thinned like drizzle.

Ouyang let the protest float away like mist.

He tapped Xian’s head gently, like calming a kitten.

“Alright, we go together. Call it a family vacation.”

“Mm-hmm, Brother-in-law’s the best!” Her eyes sparkled like stars.

Annoyance pricked first in Xi, like a thorn under silk, as the two happily ignored her.

Still, no real resistance stirred.

In her blankened memory, Ouyang and Xian felt the closest, like warm lamps in fog.

She still laid lines down: “Ouyang, I’m saying it again.”

“If outsiders are around, don’t call me ‘wife’, or it’s over my dead body.”

“Got it!” His answer came crisp as a blade.

Seeing how decisive he was, Xi felt her words scatter like leaves—said for nothing.

While they talked, Bai glanced left and right, then tugged Ouyang’s sleeve.

“Ayang, what about Loyin? If it’s family, we should bring her, right?”

“Of course.” His reply rose like a small sun.

Then Xian hummed a tune and followed Ouyang back to the castle, like a bird on a branch.

Let the two little sprites fuss over the initial build.

Back at the castle, Ouyang made a special trip to Eunice’s home and brought Loyin back.

Recently, Loyin and Eunice—two ageless girls—had been getting along like spring and stream.

Loyin often wandered over to Eunice’s place.

“A trip with big brother? I’m excited~”

Cradling Loyin, Ouyang explained everything.

Her porcelain-doll face bloomed with expectancy, like dawn on glaze.

In truth, there was one more he should bring.

But Saya, the Law Nexus, was drowned in work.

The starry “decorations”—Creator Gods can hang them—but placement is a science.

What star goes where is delicate as calligraphy.

Without Saya’s guidance, even Creator Gods fumble.

So Ouyang only whispered an apology to her in his heart, like incense smoke.

“Brother-in-law, if it’s a family trip, you and Sister should wear a couple’s outfit, right?” Her idea popped like a lantern.

“Couple’s outfit???”

Seeing Ouyang’s baffled look, Xian chuckled.

She sketched two outfits into the air—one black, one white.

On the black, white thread traced countless hexagrams along the hem.

On the back, a huge white sun burned, its waves showing blaze and breath.

On the white, the same patterns were drawn in black.

On its back, a black crescent moon hung.

Sun and moon. Black and white. A couple’s echo.

“Well? Perfect match, right? One glance and you know it’s a couple’s set!”

Xian’s look practically said, “Praise me now.”

“Who… who’s a couple with him…”

Xi’s words were hard on the surface, soft at the end, her voice fading like dusk.

In the end, face flushed, she hugged the white outfit Xian conjured.

It was finely made.

Beyond the hexagrams, sun, and moon, ancient symbols ran gold across the cloth.

Ouyang could read them—mostly blessings, like wind-written charms.

“Thanks then. I’ll take it.”

Ouyang accepted with a smile.

He glanced at Xi—she’d bolted, cheeks aflame, to go change.

Ouyang didn’t need to fuss; in a blink, the outfit was on him, like a shadow settling.

Xian looked him over and nodded, satisfied.

“Wow, Brother-in-law looks so handsome now! If only you could keep that vibe all the time…”

A lightness floated first in Ouyang—finally, someone’s little sister calling him handsome.

Then her last line hit like a pebble in a pond.

In her eyes, was he handsome for three seconds, then a clown?

His mood knotted like braided smoke.

Xian then sketched a dress in the air, the same black-and-white check.

White roses and black roses bloomed on the grid.

The hem carried gold hexagrams, like Ouyang’s outfit.

On the left, a white rose; on the right, a black one.

Golden ancient sigils threaded the fabric.

“Loyin, Bai, these are ours. Brother-in-law’s black, Sister’s white, so we’re the weave of black and white.”

Once Xian, Loyin, and Bai changed, Ouyang felt it looked right.

This girl had a gift in this craft, like a weaver of night and day.

“By the way, did you make these on the fly?”

Ouyang knew he couldn’t improvise like that; his ideas were fog compared to hers.

Xian shook her head.

“Nope. I designed these long ago, back when Sister hadn’t lost her memories.”

“But you, Brother-in-law, were rarely home.”

“I never got the chance to bring them out.”

“Also, I’ll save a set for Saya.”

“It’s a pity she can’t come; she’s worked so hard lately.”

Guilt rose first in Ouyang, heavy as rain.

In the Aurela World, he had planned to spend more time with his family.

By the time he returned, a great upheaval had already struck.

Too often we fail to cherish what we hold.

Only loss teaches the weight of light, like a lamp noticed when it’s gone.

Just then, Xi stepped out, having changed.

Her hair fell over her shoulders like sunset.

When she stopped beside Ouyang, the two stood together—ink-black and pure white, sun and moon in easy harmony.

The three with Xian wore dresses of black-and-white weave, roses blooming left and right in contrasting shades.

“Bai’s wings… Bai, can you fold your wings?”

Xian stood up front, studying everyone for tweaks, like a tailor before a parade.

“I can.”

The silver wings behind Bai faded slowly, like mist drawing inward.

Her star-bright eyes blinked at Xian, asking, “Is it good now?”

“It’s good!” Xian clapped once, a little thunder pop.

“Then, Brother-in-law, let’s set out.”

Watching their impatience, a quiet happiness opened in Ouyang, like spring water.

If life could stay this gentle, it would be enough.

But gentleness is a passing cloud.

From the Divine, Demonic, and Nether realms, a few fish slipped the net.

Among them were Tiered Beings.

Wounded, yes, but storms return.

And those ancient beings cast out?

Ouyang could feel it—their path back is near, like footsteps behind a door.

Most of all—the traitors.

The ones from the Other Shore stayed sharp in Ouyang’s mind, like glass under skin.

They were the true threat.

That one dream had shaken him too hard.

Everything in the dream later happened in waking daylight.

The Sealed Land vanished; the City of the Dead fell to ruin.

Ouyang hadn’t watched it with his own eyes, yet the outcome matched the dream like two mirrors.

What’s truly unsettling is what he saw at the Gate of Truth.

Fish that slipped the net, banished ancients, traitors—against them, Ouyang had some measure.

But the presence revealed at the Gate of Truth pressed on him like a mountain.

It made breath a narrow thing.

“We’ll cross the bridge when the boat meets it,” he murmured, a river voice.

“Maybe by then, we’ll have stepped into a new age of multiverses.”