The pale blue light at Yue Fuguang’s fingertips exploded within the clouds, causing them to churn from within as if detonated.
First, in the east, a thin thread of rain descended, like someone using a silver needle to stitch the first stitch into the earth.
Then, to the west, rain began to fall. To the south, the north—every direction at once—countless threads of rain plummeted simultaneously, weaving together into a vast curtain of water that shrouded the entire heavens and earth.
The rain hammered the parched, thirsty ground, lifting a white, misty veil of steam.
The cracked lines in the soil slowly closed, and the drooping seedlings gradually straightened their stalks in the rain, turning from yellow to green, from green to emerald.
Within the space of a single cup of tea, the whole landscape was lush with greenery.
Even more remarkable was the faint, shimmering azure light flickering within the rain curtain—it was a strand of wood spirit energy that Yue Fuguang had dissolved into the rainwater. With this enriched rain nourishing the land, even if no more rain fell for two months, the earth would never again be reduced to its former desolate state.
[Master, your rain-summoning skill has grown ever more refined. Did you mix wood spirit energy into the rain? The people of this land are truly blessed!]
Yue Fuguang herself had only realized, upon rising to this high altitude, that her abilities had suddenly changed.
She lifted her head to gaze into the high sky. The closer she was to that presence up there, the more dangerous it became, yet her power also seemed to grow stronger.
She withdrew her hand and stood on the carriage shaft, quietly watching for a moment.
The rain continued to fall. Below, the common folk who had been carrying water to irrigate their fields had long since stopped their work when the sky suddenly darkened.
Some pointed at the sky, seemingly shouting something. When they saw the raindrops falling, they dropped the buckets in their hands and the shoulder poles on their backs, kneeling in the muddy ground to kowtow in gratitude to the heavens.
This time, Yue Fuguang did not manifest a divine apparition while summoning the rain. But her carriage—radiant with spiritual light and ethereal grace, the horses galloping through the void with a river of stars forming beneath their hooves—stood out like a bright lantern in the endless dark night. It was impossible not to see her.
“Look! A celestial being riding a carriage across the sky!”
“See those horses treading on stars, with wings on their backs—they’re the winged steeds from the old folks’ stories!”
“Could the immortal in that carriage be our Divine Maiden?”
“Besides the Divine Maiden, what other god would spare a thought for us poor, suffering folk?”
“It must be the Divine Maiden on that celestial chariot!”
“I, Wang Dazhu, kowtow in thanks to the Divine Maiden!”
“I, Zhang Tieshan, an old man, kowtow in thanks to the Divine Maiden!”
“I, a common woman...”
“I, a maiden...”
Yue Fuguang faintly heard the words of gratitude and worship from below. Even though they had burned no incense or candles, she sensed the purest, most devout faith power, thread by thread, seeping into her body.
This faith power was like the finest tonic, slowly easing the exhaustion in her mind and body from the heavy expenditure of energy in spreading clouds and summoning rain.
She raised a hand to smooth her wind-tousled hair at her temples, then turned back into the carriage.
“Let’s go. To Seven Sword Manor.”
The winged horses began to gallop, flying toward the sword-hilt end of the Treasure Sword Mountains. The curtain of rain parted automatically along the path the carriage took, not a single drop touching it.
This left Feng Tang and Yu Huaixian—who had already donned straw rain capes in preparation for getting soaked—staring at each other in bewilderment.
High in the sky, the golden bells hanging from the eaves of the carriage chimed crisp and pleasant in the wind, the soft sound effortlessly overriding the noise of wind and rain.
The chime echoed in the ears of the common folk below.
Behind her, the entire Green Mulberry Plain and hillsides rippled with layers of green waves in the rain. The farmers, who had toiled ceaselessly, still knelt in the rain, while children ran chasing the heavenly carriage in the sky.
He Jin smiled faintly as she took one last look downward, then withdrew her gaze and let the curtain fall.
Although none of the three said a word, each of them had gained a new understanding of His Excellency’s abilities. Had it not been for their own identities, they—like the common folk below—would have bowed their heads in worship to the Divine Maiden who had rescued them from drought.
[Little Zhu, have you seen how far this rainfall extends?]
[Master, this rainfall covers two hundred and thirty-eight li—thirty li more than yesterday!]
In truth, it was more than that. This time, she had also added the spirit energy to the rain. Without it, the range might have been even longer.
So it seemed that summoning rain from the sky was the best method. At least she could borrow some power!
Yue Fuguang’s lips curled upward into a grin, like a cat that had stolen a fish.
She now treated that presence the same way she had once treated Emperor Mingxi: whoever ruled this world should shoulder more of the burden. Her approach was also the same: take whatever she could, little by little.
The winged horses were swift. Even what seemed like a great distance took them no longer than two or three cups of tea to reach the skies above Seven Sword Manor.
It was now the beginning of the Shen hour, and the rain was still falling.
“Oh? He Jin, look down. Lanterns and festoons everywhere—quite the lively scene. Is Seven Sword Manor celebrating a happy occasion?”
He Jin leaned out of the window to peer below. She saw the bright red silks and colorful lanterns still vivid in the rain, hanging from the eaves and corridors, and wore a puzzled expression.
Seven Sword Manor had only four masters: herself, her father, her elder brother, and his wife. She was away all year, and her elder brother had married only last year. His wife’s baby was due in three months. By all accounts, there was no other happy event at home!
He Jin began counting on her fingers. Today was the twenty-third of the fifth month. It was neither her elder brother’s nor his wife’s birthday, nor was it her father’s... Her father’s birthday seemed to be the twenty-eighth of the fifth month. That was still several days away—hardly the right date for a birthday banquet.
Still, as she looked down at the busy servants and the guests in splendid robes coming and going, the word “hardly” grew less and less confident in her mind.
Although her father had always celebrated his birthday on the actual day in previous years, who was to say he wouldn’t suddenly have a whim and do it early?
“Your Excellency, it looks like my father is holding a birthday celebration.” He Jin’s voice carried little certainty, but among all possibilities, it was the only one.
“Well then, we’ve come at just the right time!” Yue Fuguang smiled, but her mind was already racing to figure out what suitable birthday gift to give He Qisha.
The winged horses descended slowly. Just then, among a group of people drinking tea and playing chess in the garden corridor, someone happened to look up and saw the winged horses diving down from high above, accompanied by increasingly clear, ethereal chimes floating on the air.
He saw the exquisitely beautiful carriage with auspicious clouds drifting past. First, his mouth fell open in shock, but his treacherous lips could only produce hoarse, gasping sounds.
In his panic, he reached over and yanked at his friend. His friend had just lifted a cup of tea to his lips, and the liquid went straight into his nasal cavity.
Cough, cough!
“Sun Laoqi, are you trying to kill me?” he complained as he wiped his face, then looked up to see what the fuss was all about.
“You...” Sun Laoqi, still unable to speak properly, shook him violently with one hand while pointing at the sky with the other.
The man followed the direction of Sun Laoqi’s finger. “Ah... ah! A god... an immortal! An immortal, it’s an immortal!”
“Fei Wu, are you out of your mind? What immortal?” an onlooker watching the chess game said in displeasure, turning around.