On the Sunshine Coast, sunlight knifed off the waves as Ouyang and Dongze locked eyes like flint on flint.

Spill it—where’d you hide last night, before the tide turns?

Dongze wore a fox’s grin, silent as a cat in sun, letting Ouyang stew; his look said, go fish the truth from the river of time if you dare.

Just then Aupu sauntered over in floral trunks, bare-chested, a peacock on sand; he’d heard the last line, and his voice drifted in like sea breeze. Last night? Weren’t they at your place? I swung by your castle and saw them throwing a feast.

Aupu’s words hit like a dropped anchor, and Ouyang stood there dumbstruck.

Yesterday he combed every corner of Eternal Slumber, wind sweeping reeds.

He entered Skeleton Mountain, broke through the Grand Prison, even checked the White Elf Anatasya’s divination parlor.

He turned the Prairie of Wishes, the Rift Wasteland, Ancient Memory Town, and Dragon Valley upside down, like plows to earth.

The only place he missed was Miracle City, a lit window he walked past.

Not only had that crew hidden in his own castle, they’d held a banquet there like thieves dining under the lord’s lantern.

Shameless as sun-bleached bone.

Despair pricked first; then black mist curled off Ouyang like storm smoke—textbook signs of going dark.

Damn it... you win, he said, tossing the words like a pebble into calm water.

Dongze smiled too; they hooked arms like old brothers under the summer sun.

While Dongze wasn’t looking, Ouyang booted him into the Nameless Sea, a white arc of spray lifting like a gull.

Truth is, Ouyang losing their trail was near impossible for a hunter with hawk eyes.

Last night both sides were playing tag under the moon, not a true chase.

With his power, claiming he couldn’t catch Kanofia would fool no one—not even Kanofia.

If Ouyang spread his awareness over Eternal Slumber like frost over grass, Dongze and the others had nowhere to hide.

He didn’t, because that would be a foul, a stain on the game.

No rule was written, but everyone honored it like a shared oath.

He did hold back, blade drawn then sheathed.

But he truly didn’t expect those punks to hide in his own home, wolves curled in the kennel.

So he said, you win, and let it stand.

Petty!

Floating in the sea, Dongze raised a middle finger like a lone mast.

Ouyang, face dark, scooped a handful of sand, ready to fling it like grit on the wind.

Dongze, quick as a fish, slipped under.

Ouyang glared at the Nameless Sea, but he wouldn’t cleave the water—knife stayed in its sheath.

Jokes have rules; step past the circle drawn in sand and it stops being play.

He trudged back to his lounge chair, lay under blue sky and paper-boat clouds, and sipped juice.

He wanted an idle day, a sage in shade.

But a sudden wind always tugged his kite from leisure.

Ouxinxue came barreling over with Loyin and little Sin, three little terrors flocking like gulls after a fisherman.

Born a divine second-generation, Ouxinxue’s bloodline was a riddle in mist; she still looked twelve or thirteen.

The trio wore swimsuits and hugged giant watermelons, charging in like a tide.

Gods step aside, buddhas step aside—no one dared block their path.

Cross those three and you might not die, but you’d shed a layer of skin.

Dad, big watermelon!

Ouxinxue thumped hers onto the table with a loud thud beside Ouyang.

Loyin followed with her own thud, eyes bright as stars.

Little Sin looked left and right, saw the pattern, and thudded hers down too.

The last watermelon shoved Ouyang’s glass off the edge; juice spread like a small sunrise on the sand.

Ouyang’s mouth twitched like a bent reed, half smile, half wince.

Pick a fight with brats and you’ve already lost, like wrestling eels.

Want some watermelon?

Ouyang swallowed his temper and kept his voice warm as tea.

Mm-hmm, we do! And Dad, where’s Mom? We haven’t seen her.

At the word Mom, a pang struck first; Ouyang coughed to cover it, smoke in the throat.

Your mom had matters at the Stellar Courtyard.

She’ll come find you once she’s done.

He patted Ouxinxue’s head, gentle as wind over willow.

He lied on the surface, yet not in spirit, moonlight mirrored in a pond.

He truly planned to entrust Ouxinxue to Glorious Moon.

Oh... it’s so lively. All those uncles and aunties came, but Mom didn’t. What a pity.

It’s fine. You still have Loyin and Sin. Here, Dad will slice the melon.

As Ouyang reached for the knife, Loyin tugged his shirt, willful as a cat. Brother, cut mine first!

Little Sin, an innocent bystander with her finger in her mouth, looked from Loyin to Ouxinxue like a sparrow watching hawks.

Suddenly she got it, a spark lighting her eyes.

She patted her melon and raised her hand like in class. Cut mine first!

Ouyang just covered his face, half laugh, half sigh, as if shading himself from noon sun.

He snapped his fingers; all three melons parted cleanly at once, neat as mirror cuts.

That should leave them nothing to complain about, right? The thought drifted like a fragile bubble.

Ouxinxue puffed her cheeks like a little pufferfish. Dad, that’s not sincere. I want you to cut it slice by slice!

Loyin huffed. No sincerity.

Sin glanced around, copied her friends, and echoed, No sincerity.

Heaven help him; the sky spun like a slow wheel.

Who can babysit these three?

Ouyang rubbed his temples; children were the hardest opponents, silk that tangles the knife.

As his head throbbed, he spotted a passerby and seized a helper like hooking a fish.

You there, strong one... and you, beauty, over here...

He waved at Lin Yue, who walked over puzzled, a deer at the shoreline.

Loyin, Sin, and Xinxue, let me introduce someone.

This is the Moon Sage of the Sun, Moon, and Stars—also called the Moon Goddess.

She’s a true sage of leisure; since she’s free all day, she can tell you a story.

The helper stared blankly, then her face cleared like clouds parting.

Ouyang, I know this is your way to get close to me.

I know you’re a good person, but sorry...

She turned without a backward glance, footsteps light as falling petals.

Tell stories to three little terrors? She’d rather face a meteor shower.

Years on the moon had taught Lin Yue their frightful power.

One day they stripped the glazed tiles off the Moon Palace roof, birds pecking jewels.

Next day they cooked her pet for fun, smoke rising like a signal fire.

After that, from Eternal Slumber they fired some nameless cannon at the moon, pocking it like a battered shield.

The more you dodge a thing, the more it hunts you, waves chasing a retreating foot.

At first the three had zero interest in her stories, eyes smooth as glass.

But once they saw her refuse, their smiles sharpened like knives.

If they were ordinary kids, they might think Ouyang was using them to chat her up, borrowing a ladder to climb a wall.

But these three weren’t ordinary.

Sin didn’t grasp feelings, heart clear as ice.

Loyin had lived beyond counting, years ringed like an ancient tree.

Ouxinxue had over ten thousand years behind those bright eyes, stars in a child’s face.

They saw through Lin Yue in a glance, light through paper.

Ouxinxue beamed, voice sweet as honeyed osmanthus. Aunt Lin Yue... your figure is amazing.

Under that stare, Lin Yue’s skin crawled under cold moonlight; she couldn’t read the move.

With a figure that good, not wearing a swimsuit would be a waste. Loyin...

Before she finished, Loyin flashed an OK sign; a swimsuit gathered in her hand like woven starlight.

Aunt Lin Yue, put it on. It’ll look great.

Pale as frost, Lin Yue staggered back a few steps, breath catching like a snared bird.

Ouxinxue pounced like a tiny demon king and hugged her tight.

Loyin, dress Aunt Lin Yue. Sin, help!

I... I’m not wearing it...

Don’t be like that, Aunt Lin Yue.

We’re at the beach; how can you not wear a swimsuit?

With that, Ouxinxue pushed her into the sea, a splash like silver scales.

Oops, Aunt Lin Yue, sorry, I slipped.

But your clothes are wet now; you should change.

I think a swimsuit is the best choice.

No...

Three little devils went to work, chattering like sparrows.

The Moon Goddess went white as bone, moonlight drained from her face.

Ouyang let out a long breath, wind leaving a sail.

Lin Yue—best teammate—she’d just helped him shake off the trio’s grip like shaking rain from a cloak.

Good person, Lin Yue. You’re a good person, he thought, sending it like a paper talisman.

Not long after she gave him the classic you’re a good guy, but no, Ouyang quietly returned the favor with a good-guy medal of his own, bright as tin under sun.