On the matter of that host, Ouyang was iron and stone. He wanted the tether cut, like a blade severing rope. That tightened Xi’s chest like a knotted ribbon, because in the Stellar Courtyard she’d promised the host she’d help fulfill her wish.
“Ouyang, I know you’re worried about my safety. Relax, I’ve gotten way stronger…” Her voice tried to be sunny, like light on water. To prove it, Xi cradled a sphere of water in her palm, a little moon rippling in her hand. She wore a “am I awesome or what?” look, because before this she couldn’t even cast a Dust-Raising spell no matter how she clawed at it. Compared to a trick that only kicked up grit, forming a water orb was a wave against a grain.
That was a leap in power, like stepping from a creek onto open sea.
Ouyang stared blankly at her proud face, like a stag caught in snowlight. Xi thought he was shocked by her growth, so she switched tricks. An aurora-longsword bloomed in her grip, a ribbon of polar light made steel.
“See? I’m super strong now~” She blinked, like a sparrow asking permission at the eaves.
Xi didn’t understand what her surge meant, but Ouyang did. A wry smile tugged at his mouth like a crease in ice. “When did your power jump? What happened then?”
Though he smiled, Xi felt his stance ease, like wind softening before rain. She saw an opening and told him everything. Glorious Moon, the host of the Stellar Courtyard, had summoned her. A wicked dragon swooped in, scales like storm-cloud iron. At the last moment, something in Xi flared like a hidden fuse, and she cut the dragon down. After that, her strength rose like a tide. Before, she couldn’t even lift a Dust-Raising spell.
Ouyang narrowed his eyes and sank into thought, like a deep lake gone still. From Clisto’s reports, the moment Xi and Glorious Moon signed the contract, Clisto knew she’d broken a vase and rushed to the Star Spirit, begging it to lift the bond. The Star Spirit refused and refused, like a door barred with iron. Even under all of Clisto’s threats, it wouldn’t let go. It would rather make enemies of the Demon Kings of the Eternal Sleep Continent than break Xi’s contract with Glorious Moon. No matter how you cut it, Xi was an outsider. Keeping her contract would sour the Eternal Sleep Continent’s side like vinegar. Yet the Star Spirit still chose the move no one could read.
Why was that girl called Glorious Moon worth the Star Spirit risking a flood that could drown a world?
“So in the Star Spirit’s eyes, that girl named Glorious Moon outweighs the world itself,” Ouyang said, dropping a stone that rippled Xi’s mind. Xi blinked, lost as a lamb in fog. But her sister Xian lit up, as if a lantern had been struck.
Ouyang reached for Xi’s hand. Xi jolted and pulled back like a fish from a net. “What are you doing? In public—are you trying something shady?”
Heat brushed her cheeks like evening glow; the words came out flimsy as paper.
“Where’d your mind fly to? I’m looking at the contract sigil on the back of your hand.” Ouyang could only laugh and sigh, like rain on a window. Was he some starved beast? As the universe’s number-one good man, her jab stung like a thorn.
Realizing she’d misunderstood, Xi stuck out her tongue, quick as a kitten. She hadn’t really thought he meant that; he’d just grabbed her hand in front of her sister and Loyin, and embarrassment scurried her tongue into mischief.
Ouyang studied the mark on her hand, and his face shaded over like a sky before storm.
Jue had missed it.
From the intel the White Cat and the other two brought back, Jue didn’t care much about that world. When he checked the sigil on Xi’s hand, he treated it like an ordinary stamp. Ouyang also got fooled at first. But because Xi was a star he couldn’t afford to lose, he checked again with needle-fine care.
Sure enough, there was rot under the paint.
“What is it? Is something wrong?” Xi blinked, worry pricking like thorns at her ribs at his darkened face.
“Nothing big. I need to study it.” His tone was light as dust, but he hid the ember. Better she didn’t know; he’d sweep it quietly. Ouyang clasped Xi’s hand, and his soul sank into the sigil like a diver into a pale sea. A bleached world opened, with chains stretched across it like iron constellations. It looked like what he’d seen beyond the Gate of Truth—only there the chains were titanic; here, they were man-sized and taut.
As Ouyang searched for this pale world’s edge, a being appeared, like a figure stepping out of mist.
It was human at a glance. Silver hair, starry eyes—a girl akin to Bai. Starlight pooled around her like dew. A white pleated dress breathed in a slow current. Barefoot, she stood on a chain as if it were a narrow bridge across the void.
From that breath alone, Ouyang had a guess. Unless fate played tricks, this was the Star Spirit of the Stellar Courtyard.
His first impression: weak, like a candle before a bonfire—at least compared to his tiered might. The second: flawed, like a statue with a missing shard. The Star Spirit wasn’t whole; something had been cut away.
“With your strength you couldn’t forge that kind of contract. So… who meddled?” Ouyang’s cold voice rang across the pale space like a bell in frost.
The Star Spirit gave no answer. In her starry eyes, a certain living spark was missing, like a lamp without oil.
“Who… are you?”
After a silence that fell like snow, she finally moved. If not for the bulk of Ouyang’s presence, she might have hurled him out. Faced with an unshakable mountain, she thought a long time and asked that simple question.
They met each other’s gaze, cold on cold, like ice against steel. From the depths of her pupils, Ouyang felt the edge of a threat, thin as a knife.
“Cancel the girl’s contract,” Ouyang said, arrowing straight to the heart.
The Star Spirit shook her head. “Impossible. It’s the only hope…” Only hope—those words flashed like a shard of glass. Ouyang caught the sliver of new intel. But her stance was granite: no room to haggle.
“That girl matters to me,” Ouyang said, voice steady as an anvil. “I won’t watch her wear a nameless bond. If you won’t release her, I’ll use force.”
His resolve was flint-on-steel. A spark flickered in her empty gaze. She parted her lips and spoke soft as rain. “I… mean no harm…”
“Sorry,” he said, the apology cool as shade. “I can’t trust a stranger, much less entrust the life of the one who matters most. If you want my trust, be plain. I have the right to know why you’re doing this. Otherwise, ‘no harm’ is just wind.”
…
In the hall, Ouyang opened his eyes and let out a breath like steam in winter. “Is it fixed?” Xi asked, anxiety drumming like rain on her ribs. She feared he’d bar her from the Stellar Courtyard, because she had promised Glorious Moon she’d help make a dream real.
If Ouyang forced it, she’d yield like grass before wind. Glorious Moon was a passerby in her life; Ouyang was the mountain. If she had to choose, she would choose him, quick as a blade.
Ouyang looked at Xi, eyes knotty with thought like roots. He nodded. “Yeah. Research complete. You can go see Glorious Moon and have fun.”
“Have… fun? I’m not going to play! I made a pact with Liyue. We’re going to do something big! Hmph, you think I’m going to fool around? Only a frivolous guy like you thinks of play!”
Her cheeks puffed like a steamed bun; she was on serious business.
“Okay, okay, you’re on serious business. Also, I tweaked the contract just now. If you hit something you can’t handle, shout: ‘Universe’s most handsome Lord Ouyang, please descend!’ I’ll show up.”
“Universe’s most handsome…” Xi studied his face like a critic and pouted. “I think Devila’s better-looking than you.”
Ouyang petrified on the spot, like a statue in a thunderbolt. HP -999.
Realizing she’d poked the wrong nest, Xi scrambled to change the wind. “Alright, alright, you’re the universe’s most handsome. But that chant is way… way too embarrassing!”
Ouyang remained stone, moss and all.
“Ouyang?” Xi shook him, a sparrow pecking a drum. He stayed carved.
Xian clicked her tongue and sighed like a mournful flute. “It’s over, Sis. You told your brother-in-law someone else is handsomer. He’s lost the will to live.”
“Lost the will to live!” Loyin chimed in, fanning the fire like a playful breeze.
Ouyang stayed petrified…
—
The meeting room in Void Castle convened again. Seeing Ouyang light as a lifted burden, everyone knew the matter was settled. The main culprit, Clisto, finally dropped the stone in her chest; until Xi’s issue was solved, she’d walked like a cat over glass.
“About the Stellar Courtyard,” Ouyang said, voice like a map unrolled. “I’ve negotiated with the Star Spirit. We can enter that world and speak with beings from other worlds to get their coordinates. The Star Spirits won’t meddle, but you must follow the rules they set.
“Also, our old enemies haunt that world like wolves in fog. Under those rules, kill them whenever you can.”
Everyone present knew “those guys.” They were the remnants of the three high civilizations from the war years, ghosts with knives. With so many brothers lost back then, running into them in the Stellar Courtyard was a gift like thunder to drought. It was time to settle the blood.
After the room cleared, only two remained: Ouyang and Agas.
“Teacher, the lighthouse has lit the sea,” Ouyang said, words like beacons through mist. “Those lost in the dark have seen it. They’re walking back along the light.”
“How long?” Agas asked, steady as bedrock.
“Soon,” Ouyang said. “It should have taken ages, but the Stellar Courtyard handed us a windfall. The beacon is pointing their way. And…” He didn’t finish. He traced a few symbols on the table, strokes like quiet fire.
It was the Other Shore’s internal cipher.
Agas frowned, lines deepening like furrows. Translated, those signs said: The most ancient beings can’t be trusted.
