For Glorious Moon, oddities had piled up like fallen leaves after rain, one after another.

First, half a year ago she finally partnered with a girl from another world, yet a grandpa‑like enigma tagged along like a stray cat under the eaves.

Whenever Glorious Moon tried summoning Xi, a lazy voice drifted through her head like smoke from a teapot. “What now? We’re eating. After dinner, a bath, a change of clothes, a stroll down East Street… and then we’ll swing by you.”

Another time she reached for the summoning card, and that same voice rippled through her mind like wind across reeds. “Eh, not today. We’re visiting old friends in the Ling World. Leaving mid‑chat would be rude.”

And yet again, when she tried to summon, that voice thumped in like a drum. “What? We’re in the Weita system, attending that civilization’s surrender ceremony. Busy schedule. Don’t yank us at random.”

Examples like these were a pebble beach—countless. Frustration pooled in her chest like stormwater; she’d started to hate Ouyang. She only wanted her bestie Xi for a breeze‑light chat.

The second oddity arrived five months ago, a star‑bright card of the divine kind—the Cantor of Wind. When she summoned it, a girl with three pairs of dragonfly wings unfurled like glass ripples, calling herself the King of Heaven, Unoya.

The Cantor of Wind was overpowered to the horizon, and Unoya obeyed like a moon‑still lake. Every word from Glorious Moon moved her like a tug on a kite string. Compared to a certain grandpa, Glorious Moon felt tears sting like sea salt.

It hadn’t been easy. It was climbing a wet cliff in mist.

The third oddity was… she somehow ended up with a daughter, like a snowflake landing in her palm.

Ouyang had said to summon him once she reached Skyblue Beach, but with Unoya at her back like a steady gale, Glorious Moon chose not to bother Ouyang and Xi. From their daily banter she could hear the couple’s warmth like lantern light, so she chose to leave them their two‑person moon.

With that resolve, she broke the Sea Clan’s blockade like a spear of wind and drove into Skyblue Beach. While probing the meteorite incident, she found the rock hollow as a bell, its heart once home to something alive. On the surface and in shadows, battles crashed like surf and hissed like sand; at the key moment, she summoned another heavy hitter and turned the tide.

Then she walked right out past the Sea Clan, bold as a pennant in sun, carrying the being that had sat within the meteorite’s core.

Inside that hollow meteor slept a girl. Once Glorious Moon saved her from the Sea Clan’s net, the girl clung like ivy and refused to leave, declaring Glorious Moon was her mother.

Because of that girl, human high‑ups sent wave after wave like migrating geese, asking her identity. The girl cooperated with smiles like petals, yet her answers were mismatched gears—words spun into fireworks, and the officials got no useful sparks.

Some wanted force—interrogations with iron in the air. Each time, the girl fled to Glorious Moon, sobbing like summer rain. She nestled into the role of daughter, and Glorious Moon, a genius with two divine‑kind contracts, stood like a granite cliff behind her. The high‑ups didn’t want that bridge burned, so the matter dragged like a slow river. Every few days someone came knocking with questions; without Glorious Moon’s sheltering canopy, that girl would’ve been sliced like lab samples.

After Glorious Moon’s name rose like dawn over Skyblue Beach, she settled in a city nearby. Tianshui City mixed mystery and science like moonlight on steel; living there meant neon and algorithms on one street, rites and sigils on the next, and the sea always within a salt‑breath walk.

Today, Glorious Moon did the usual and drew the Chaos Twins card, her heart steady as a held breath.

“By the ancient pact of the Star Spirit, under truth…” Her chant flowed like wind through pines.

Without hope in her chest, she still watched. Two figures stepped out like ink and chalk—one black, one white.

“Hold up, Ouyang the Demon King. Why’s your entrance missing the spectacle?” Joy fluttered in her like swallows, yet the first detail she nitpicked was his flair.

Ouyang the Demon King, straw hat shadowing his grin, held Xi’s hand like a quiet vow. He blinked, then chuckled as if a pebble had struck water. “Right, there was a mishap last time. My entrance settings broke. Can’t have that. I’ll fix it, you summon again—”

“Hey, Ouyang, enough.” Xi tapped his head with a clean thunk like bamboo, let go of him, then took Glorious Moon’s hand. Laughing like silver bells, the two walked toward the beach, sun on their shoulders, and Ouyang was left bobbing like a forgotten buoy.

Ahead, Ouyang spotted a familiar face—Sade of Future Star, shining in memory like a badge.

Ouyang had no interest in Sade. Boredom yawned in him like a cat; he wanted to find a certain redhead and talk life under a roadside tree.

“Kid, summon that guy. Now.” His words snapped like a twig.

Sade had come as a member of Future Star to invite Glorious Moon to join their ranks. Because of the Tilafei affair, many opposed her invitation, but Sade’s camp pushed to welcome her. He’d watched that old incident like a spectator in the rain and stood by Glorious Moon’s side.

He had barely reached Tianshui, learned she was at the seaside, and ran over with breath like steam. He never imagined he’d run into that man like fate turning a corner.

Facing Ouyang, likely a divine‑kind existence with clouds at his heels, Sade could only summon Aelilais.

“Mortal, didn’t I say no summons unless it’s life‑and‑death—” Aelilais didn’t finish. A jolt hit the back of his head like a drum. He turned to see a grinning devil with a wooden stick, smiling like a wolf in moonlight.

Seconds later, the two were brawling, blows cracking like thunder, sand puffing like smoke.

Xi and Glorious Moon had seen these two clowns fight months ago—sparks and spit in circles—so they ignored it, chatting like tide and breeze while walking toward the shore.

Sade saw the circus, shrugged like a man in rain, and sprinted toward Glorious Moon with an invitation in hand.

“Miss Glorious Moon, this is an invitation from Future Star. We hope you’ll join the Hero Feast in a week.” The Hero Association had invited her many times like repeating waves, yet she kept turning them down. Those people eyed her ‘daughter’ with knives under silk, and Glorious Moon’s heart chilled like frost; she wanted nothing to do with them.

During the Tilafei incident, Sade and others had stood with Glorious Moon, so the Association sent him like a soft wind. Compared to the rest, he had once stood on the same line of battle, so they hoped she would be less guarded.

Glorious Moon refused without a blink, her tone flat as a shut gate. She knew the Association’s nature like a stain. They wanted to fish for answers. Her daughter had leapt from a meteor, and the girl kept her origins locked like a sealed jar. Even Glorious Moon didn’t know. Smiles at that kind of feast were knives wrapped in napkins. No thanks.

Pressure grew with time like storm clouds. Even the winged race beyond the white clouds had stirred. The sky was their dominion, yet a meteor crossed their roof like a blazing brushstroke, and they hadn’t seen it. Worse, a living person lay inside. If the winged folk stepped in, Glorious Moon didn’t know if she could shield her sudden daughter beneath her cloak.

Seeing Glorious Moon’s iron face, Sade sagged like a willow. Both were dazzling human talents, both had contracts with the divine kind, yet the gap between them stretched like a canyon.

Glorious Moon’s contracted divine‑kind treated her with reverence, obeying like tides to the moon. His own divine‑kind acted like lords on cushioned chairs.

If he had to draw a metaphor, Sade could only think of Glorious Moon’s other contractor—the black‑clad man hanging, arm over Aelilais’s shoulder, laughing like crows. Ouyang fit the same mold.

Like attracts like, birds in flocks. Sade felt the proverb settle like ink. Look at those two shoulder‑to‑shoulder rogues: both unmovable lords, both eyes holding a casual scorn like winter wind, both faces saying, “Sky large, earth large, I’m larger.”

Dragging his feet back, Sade glanced at Ouyang and spoke with a wilted sigh. “Sir, could you please help persuade Miss Glorious Moon? It’s just a banquet.”

Since he couldn’t move the mountain, he tried the path around it.

“But… I’m not close with that girl.” Ouyang’s words were plain as bread. Without Xi as a bridge, he and Glorious Moon would be strangers passing like boats in mist. Changing her mind? Even he didn’t expect it.

Sade drooped further, a flag in no wind. He knew Ouyang was right. The Association’s files showed Ouyang barely appeared—count on fingers. In fights, the mysterious King of Heaven usually acted, Xi showed now and then, and Ouyang faded like a forgotten note.

From that ledger, Ouyang and Glorious Moon were distant as stars.

“Honestly, Miss Glorious Moon worries about her daughter’s safety.” Sade’s voice was cautious as stepping stones. “If we can promise the little princess stays safe, she might attend.” Even as he spoke, his heart rattled like a tin can. The winged folk cared; how could he promise safety against sky spears?

Ouyang caught one word like a hook in flesh—daughter—and turned to stone.

“What… you said… daughter? Where’d she come from? How old?”

For some reason, Sade savored the shock on that mysterious lord’s face, crisp as biting into ice. He cleared his throat and told Ouyang what had happened, the tale spilling like tea and steam.

When he finished, silence laid over Ouyang like ash.

“Sade, right? Do you know her daughter’s name?” His voice was low as a drum at dusk. “Not a title someone slapped on her. I mean the name she spoke herself.”

“Uh… let me think.” Sade’s eyes lifted like moths to light. “A lot of people call the little princess Xinxue. Her full name seems to be…”