Upon hearing that, Long Yin stared at Feng Qingyun in silence for a long moment before suddenly gripping his waist and pressing him down beneath him.
Feng Qingyun was already in the midst of his flowering season, and after being busy for ten straight days, his emotions had become especially volatile. During the day, he had only managed to endure it through sheer force of will and the responsibilities of being the Sect Leader.
Now that he had finally been granted some intimacy, he was like a fish returned to water, indulging himself for once. And because he was in such a good mood, even Long Yin received fewer scoldings than usual. That night, no matter what tricks he tried, a little coaxing was enough to earn him a few points of indulgence.
Long Yin became so pleased with himself that he nearly wanted to drown forever in that flower-scented paradise of tenderness. Unfortunately, after one round of intimacy, he lifted the robe covering the person in his arms and moved to continue, only for Feng Qingyun to gasp and plant a foot squarely against his abdomen.
“…Stop.”
Grabbing his ankle, Long Yin clearly intended to pretend he hadn’t heard. As Feng Qingyun’s leg slid from beneath the robe, he immediately lowered his head toward it. However, Feng Qingyun half-lidded his eyes and trapped Long Yin’s face between his thighs as it approached, laughing despite himself.
“Just taking a break. It’s not as if I’m refusing to let you continue… Why are you in such a hurry?”
The moment he heard that, Long Yin paused and immediately calmed down. With a smile, he lightly bit the pale flesh of the leg pinning him before sitting up and pulling Feng Qingyun into his arms.
Narrowing his eyes, Feng Qingyun leaned comfortably against his chest, allowing him to massage his sore shoulders and neck. In the midst of their tenderness, they casually began discussing the arrangements for their Dao companion ceremony.
“This ceremony will be watched by the entire world,” Long Yin said as he kneaded the back of Feng Qingyun’s neck, which had become sore from tilting back for too long earlier. “What does the Little Palace Master think about the ceremonial rites?”
For someone who had once crashed another man’s wedding to steal the bride and later caused chaos at the Heavenly Gate Ceremony, the word rites might as well have meant nothing. Yet here he was, suddenly concerned about ceremony.
Amused, Feng Qingyun closed his eyes.
“I’ll look through the old records tomorrow and find out. Though no matter what, we absolutely cannot follow the rites from my previous life.” He paused before adding meaningfully: “Otherwise certain narrow-minded people will probably start complaining again.”
Long Yin chuckled, making no attempt to deny the accusation. Instead, he suddenly asked: “When the Little Palace Master married in your previous life, who made your wedding robes?”
“Naturally, the people in the sect responsible for such matters,” Feng Qingyun blinked and opened his eyes. “Why are you asking?”
Long Yin remained silent for a moment before lifting a strand of his hair as he said, “I want to make them myself.”
Feng Qingyun froze. Slowly raising his head, he stared at him without blinking. Even among mortals, one rarely heard of a husband personally sewing his wife’s wedding dress, or a wife making her husband’s wedding robes.
In the cultivation world, such a thing was even more unheard of.
For cultivators, becoming Dao companions differed greatly from mortal marriage. Most unions were formed for dual cultivation, emphasizing status, compatibility, and cultivation level rather than love itself.
Therefore, many cultivators did not even refer to each other as husband and wife, and it was common for both parties to keep concubines or lovers.
Under such circumstances, not to mention personally making wedding garments before the marriage, even making clothes for one’s partner after marriage would be unprecedented.
Coming back to himself, Feng Qingyun said nothing. Instead, he raised a hand to remove the inner robe he had somehow never managed to take off during their earlier passion.
The movement was so natural that Long Yin froze, and his gaze immediately changed. Without another word, his hand slid straight to Feng Qingyun’s waist, asking, “Has the Little Palace Master rested enough already?”
As he spoke, he tried to press him back onto the bed, but Feng Qingyun immediately glared at him, asking, “Weren’t you the one who said you needed to take my measurements?”
“This Lord never said that,” Long Yin smiled and rested a hand against his waist. “I could sketch my Little Rose’s figure with my eyes closed. Why would I need measurements?”
Feng Qingyun paused. Suddenly, he remembered the sword cultivator robe Long Yin had once given him… The image of Long Yin sitting alone beneath lamplight, painstakingly sewing clothes, appeared in his mind, but…
The thought was oddly amusing.
“…You’re the mighty Demon Emperor,” he said. “How are you so skilled at something like this?!”
“If I tell you…” Long Yin’s hand paused briefly, then he lowered his voice. “The Little Palace Master will probably call me a pervert again.”
The moment he heard that, Feng Qingyun’s curiosity was thoroughly piqued. Narrowing his eyes, he reached up and pinched Long Yin’s cheek, coaxing, “Stop changing the subject. Tell me. Where did you learn it?”
“Naturally, when you still hadn’t taken human form.” Long Yin wrapped an arm around him and laughed softly beside his ear. “Back then, all this Lord could think about was what clothes you’d wear once you transformed. For that reason, I specifically learned how to cut and tailor fabric from that fellow Tong Tian. Later, after going through the illusion realm, I forgot the reason why I’d learned it, but the skill itself remained.”
“See?” He smiled. “It finally came in handy.”
Feng Qingyun had never expected such an answer. After staring blankly for a moment, he turned to look at Long Yin in disbelief, as though seeing a beautifully wrapped gift filled with absolute depravity.
At that time, he had not even sprouted a bud yet!
And this man had already been thinking that far ahead.
“…”
A strange warmth spread through his chest, and his entire face grew hot with embarrassment. After a long silence, Feng Qingyun lowered his eyes and pressed a hand against Long Yin’s shoulder.
“…Enough. You really are a pervert.”
Long Yin accepted the insult without the slightest annoyance. He simply wrapped an arm around his waist and buried his face against his neck, continuing, “If the Little Palace Master insists on calling it that, then consider it a matter of reciprocity.”
But before he could finish speaking, Feng Qingyun lowered his head and stared at the dragon scale hanging against his chest for a long moment. Then, suddenly, he said: “As for your wedding robes… I’ll make them myself.”
Long Yin froze. Before he could recover, Feng Qingyun had already pursed his lips and sat upright.
“Take everything off. Let me measure you.”
“…”
Well… Long Yin had only been joking. He truly intended to make Feng Qingyun’s robes himself, but Feng Qingyun, across both lifetimes, had probably never held a needle even once. How could Long Yin bear to let him sew clothes for him?!
Snapping back to his senses, he hurriedly protested: “Sect Leader Feng, why are you taking this seriously? I was only joking…”
“I told you to take them off.”
Half-kneeling on the bed, Feng Qingyun looked up at him coolly.
“Why do you have so much to say?”
The two stared at each other for several seconds. Seeing that Feng Qingyun had already made up his mind, Long Yin finally fell silent and obediently removed the robe that hung loosely from his shoulders.
The lean muscles of his body still bore the red marks Feng Qingyun had scratched into him earlier. They had seemed insignificant during the heat of passion. Now, however, the sight made Feng Qingyun’s face burn. After only a brief glance, he quickly looked away, ears turning red.
Then he reached for Long Yin’s storage ring on the bedside table, rummaged through it for a while, and finally pulled out a golden silkworm measuring tape. Surprised, Feng Qingyun couldn’t help but laugh. Raising an eyebrow, he glanced at Long Yin, asking, “Do your subordinates know what you’ve been secretly doing alone in the Demon Palace all this time?”
Not the least bit embarrassed, Long Yin replied: “This is the Thousand-Silk Measuring Cord. Besides tailoring clothes, it has certain… other uses when it comes to binding people. Would the Little Palace Master like to try it?”
“…”
Feng Qingyun immediately fell silent. After staring at Long Yin for several seconds beneath that knowing smile, he stubbornly knelt before him and awkwardly began measuring with the golden silkworm-thread tape. The problem was that he had never made clothes before and had absolutely no idea what measurements he was supposed to take, so…
Outwardly, he looked calm and composed, but in reality, he was a complete mess. After measuring three times, he somehow ended up with three completely different numbers. The famed Sword Master Linshuang had probably never undertaken such a challenging task in his life.
Kneeling there with a furrowed brow, he stared intently between the measuring tape and Long Yin’s solid abdominal muscles. After a long while, he tried again. This time, as he leaned forward, he was practically buried against Long Yin’s chest. His cool cheek pressed against the firm pectoral muscles he’d scratched bloody earlier, while his hands once again attempted to measure Long Yin’s waist.
The measuring cord was in complete disarray under his handling, half wrapped around the waist, half hanging loose. Yet Feng Qingyun remained entirely serious about the task, kneeling with impeccable dignity.
From Long Yin’s angle, however, he could clearly see the section of waist exposed beneath the loosened sheets, and farther back, the elegant curve beyond it.
Feng Qingyun remained utterly unaware. His hair draped loosely over his shoulders, black strands contrasting sharply against the white of his skin. Beneath the warm glow of the luminous pearls, he looked exceptionally beautiful.
Long Yin watched for a long moment before suddenly laughing softly.
Hearing it, Feng Qingyun immediately assumed he was being mocked, and his embarrassment turned to irritation as he looked up with bright eyes.
“…What are you laughing at?!”
“Nothing.” Long Yin carefully lifted the clumsy man into his arms and pressed a kiss to his annoyed face.
“I was only thinking…” his voice softened. “After ten thousand years of longing, I’ve finally held the moon in my heart in my arms.”
Feng Qingyun froze. Bathed in the warm white light of the night pearls, surrounded by rumpled bedding and the man before him, it took him several moments to understand what Long Yin meant. What now seemed like ordinary happiness had once been something utterly unattainable. Now, however, peace and joy were finally within reach.
Like candied hawthorn.
Because of the bitterness and sourness of the past, the sweetness of the present felt all the richer.
…Unfortunately, the tenderness in Feng Qingyun’s heart didn’t last long, for Long Yin immediately shattered the mood, asking, “After measuring for so long, has the Little Palace Master arrived at any conclusions?”
Feng Qingyun pursed his lips. He clearly didn’t want to admit that he was completely helpless when it came to something like this, so he remained silent.
His expressionless face was so beautiful and endearing that Long Yin’s heart softened immediately. Taking hold of his wrist, he removed the measuring cord from Feng Qingyun’s hands. Then, wrapping an arm around his waist, he slipped a hand beneath the sheets and demonstrated. The heat of Long Yin’s palm against his side made Feng Qingyun’s brow twitch. Lowering his gaze, he watched the hand moving beneath the fabric as it measured the line of his waist.
Though it was supposedly a demonstration, the hand remained hidden beneath the cloth, and Feng Qingyun couldn’t clearly see what he was doing. Yet somehow, the obscured movements only made it more captivating.
Long Yin seemed to be explaining something beside his ear, but Feng Qingyun heard none of it. His attention remained fixed on the sturdy forearm wrapped around his waist.
Only when Long Yin laughed softly against his ear did he finally return to himself.
“Well? Has the Little Palace Master learned anything?”
At that, Feng Qingyun blinked, yet his eyes remained fixed on Long Yin’s arm. “You talked so much,” he complained. “Naturally, I didn’t understand any of it.”
“I’ll just try it myself and see.” He lifted his chin.
“What would the Little Palace Master like to measure?” Long Yin paused before breaking into laughter.
But Feng Qingyun said nothing. Instead, he reached out. His fingertip brushed lightly against Long Yin’s forearm before traveling upward, eventually coming to rest upon the blood-red scratches near his shoulder.
“What’s the point of measuring there?” Long Yin laughed. Taking his hand, he slowly guided it elsewhere, continuing, “A night like this is rare.”
His voice carried obvious amusement.
“Wouldn’t the Little Palace Master rather measure something more interesting?”
Feng Qingyun lowered his eyes and fell silent for several moments. He allowed Long Yin to position his hand before quietly teasing: “The size there…” his lips curved faintly. “I’ve measured it personally countless times already. Why would I still need a ruler?”
Long Yin’s breathing hitched. The next moment, he grabbed Feng Qingyun’s wrist and pinned him onto the bed.
“Since the Little Palace Master is so confident…” Slowly, he drew the Thousand-Silk Measuring Cord from Feng Qingyun’s hand. As he tied it across Feng Qingyun’s eyes, he leaned close and murmured teasingly into his ear: “Then why don’t you guess…”
“…whether it’s reached the end yet?”
Feng Qingyun immediately reached up to remove the blindfold, only for Long Yin to pin both his hands firmly in place. Just as he was about to speak, the eyes hidden beneath the cloth widened involuntarily, and his mind went blank for a moment.
Only after several seconds did he hear Long Yin’s amused voice beside his ear: “Reached the end yet? Hmm?”
Feng Qingyun took a shaky breath.
“Perhaps… it has.” A low chuckle sounded beside his ear.
“But unfortunately.”
Long Yin’s voice dropped to a whisper.
“Wrong answer.”
“!”
Feng Qingyun’s eyes widened beneath the blindfold, and his fingers spasmed around Long Yin’s wrist. For a long moment, he trembled too hard to speak before being abruptly dragged into an abyss from which there was no escape.
In the end, Long Yin’s waist measurement was finally determined, with Feng Qingyun in tears, forced to use his legs as the measuring standard.
………………..
Over the following days, everything within the Xiān Gōng Sect remained peaceful. At long last, it was time to prepare for the grand ceremony Long Yin had been dreaming about.
As for the ceremonial rites of the Dao companion ceremony, Feng Qingyun ultimately rejected every existing template. Instead, he buried himself within the sect’s library, digging through countless historical records. After two days of work, he drafted an entirely new set of rites from scratch, in a ceremony that differed from all existing Dao companion ceremonies.
Its most notable feature was the complete absence of a ritual offering to Heaven. After all, for the two of them, worshipping Heaven would essentially amount to worshipping Long Yin himself.
There seemed little point in that.
Beyond that, Feng Qingyun incorporated many customs from mortal weddings, finally granting someone his long-cherished wish. Logically speaking, after organizing countless ceremonies across two lifetimes, drafting a new set of procedures should have been effortless. Yet Long Yin was so moved that the very night the draft was completed, he attempted to offer himself in gratitude.
“…”
Only for Feng Qingyun to release his primordial body and bind him firmly to the bed. Then, armed with the Thousand-Silk Measuring Cord, he climbed onto his waist and stuffed a flower into his mouth for good measure.
“Be quiet!”
Long Yin immediately burst into laughter, laughing so hard he nearly shook Feng Qingyun off his lap. Naturally, that earned him a furious glare, but the reason for his laughter was simple. Out of everything involved in the ceremony, the only task that had genuinely challenged Feng Qingyun was making the wedding robes.
After all, the Sword Master Linshuang had never in his life done work requiring such meticulous attention. Every night, he practically unwrapped Long Yin like a rice dumpling, sprawled across the bed, and studied every inch of his physique with an expression so serious it looked as though he were facing a mortal enemy.
The sight made Long Yin’s heart melt into a puddle. More than once, he wanted to drag him into his arms and knead him affectionately, but at last, after countless difficulties, the pair of wedding robes were completed through their combined efforts.
Long Yin spent three days on his.
Feng Qingyun spent thirty.
And that was with Long Yin personally teaching him step by step for many of those days. Yet the final result exceeded all expectations.
Feng Qingyun’s robe featured pomegranate-flower patterns as its base, embroidered with phoenixes and roses in rose-gold heavenly silkworm thread. Long Yin’s robe used the same materials to embroider dragons and auspicious clouds.
The remaining scraps of pomegranate-patterned fabric were carefully saved for little Beichen. Using them, the two made a small festive vest. The bright red cloth, paired with tiny golden ingots painstakingly embroidered by Feng Qingyun himself, looked incredibly celebratory, and the little merfolk adored it. For a time, it even forgot their fear of crowds, running all over the Xiān Gōng Sect in new clothes, proudly showing them off to everyone it met.
The two of them watched the little child running around and showing off, smiling with genuine delight. Then Long Yin leaned close to Feng Qingyun’s ear and chuckled.
“So this means… the Little Palace Master and I are having a shotgun wedding.”
“Then I suppose Your Majesty is enjoying the benefits of fatherhood,” Feng Qingyun lifted an eyebrow at him. “That’s the only reason you’ve reached your current position. Don’t let favor go to your head.”
“Yes, yes, this Lord understands.” Long Yin smiled, then slipped an arm around his waist suggestively and lowered his voice. “But after three years we’ve only produced one child, and our descendants are far from flourishing. If the Lord Husband grows dissatisfied, then after the wedding I’ll have no choice but to work day and night and redouble my efforts, lest I lose my favor.”
Hearing him say such things in broad daylight, Feng Qingyun immediately turned and glared at him. Yet in the end he could not bring himself to scold him. He merely snorted lightly and left behind a single sentence:
“…Good that you understand.”
In the end, the date of the ceremony was set for the following Spring Equinox.
Virtually every notable sect and power in the cultivation world received invitations from both the Demon Palace and the Xiān Gōng Sect. News that Feng Qingyun and Long Yin would be holding two Dao companion ceremonies spread across the world like wildfire.
No matter how far one looked through history, no one had ever heard of a couple holding two separate ceremonies, so the entire cultivation world was stunned.
But after the initial shock, everyone arrived at the same conclusion:
This was definitely Long Yin’s idea.
Even so, many people could not help but wonder…
…Sword Master Linshuang is really allowing the Demon Emperor to indulge himself like this?!
But as the wedding date drew closer and closer, everyone was forced to admit one thing: The Feng Qingyun who, in his previous life, had been unwilling to deviate from ceremony by even a single step truly was willing to indulge Long Yin’s whims this time around.
The day before the ceremony, Feng Qingyun finally found a moment to rest.
He had spent days overseeing preparations, purchasing spiritual wine and fruits, and even helping Long Yin personally craft several pairs of dragon-and-phoenix wedding candles.
At last, everything was ready.
Originally, he intended to relax for a while. Yet when he suddenly looked up and saw the evening sunset staining the horizon gold, an overwhelming sense of unreality washed over him. Only then did it truly sink in.
Tomorrow would be his wedding day.
His wedding day with Long Yin. Not an illusion. Not a fantasy.
But a grand ceremony announced to all beneath heaven and witnessed by the four corners of the world. The regret they had carried across two lifetimes would finally be fulfilled tomorrow. The realization struck him so forcefully that he felt far more nervous than he had during his wedding in his previous life, and his heartbeat felt as though it might leap straight from his throat.
To calm himself, he soaked in the spiritual pool until his racing heart finally settled, before drying himself and returning to his sleeping quarters. Yet it did not take him long to discover something rather surprising.
The mighty Heavenly Dao, who had lived for tens of thousands of years, was somehow even more nervous than he was.
Normally, by the time Feng Qingyun returned to his palace, the little merfolk would already have been coaxed soundly asleep. Tonight, however, the child was still awake, yawning repeatedly while leaning against Long Yin’s chest.
“What happened?” Feng Qingyun frowned. “Why isn’t Baby asleep yet?”
“Father was rocking too fast…” the round little merfolk rubbed their eyes. “Dandan couldn’t fall asleep.”
At this point, Feng Qingyun still had not realized what was wrong, so he reached out and took the child from Long Yin’s arms. As he gently patted it to sleep, he quietly said: “Stop feeding Beichen those pills of yours like they’re candy. Look at this, it’s practically becoming a ball.”
“…Mm.” Long Yin responded absentmindedly.
“What’s wrong?” Feng Qingyun paused.
Long Yin immediately snapped back to attention, answering, “Nothing.”
At that, Feng Qingyun narrowed his eyes slightly but said nothing, continuing to pat the child. Fortunately, he had just bathed, and spring had already arrived. His body carried the gentle fragrance of flowers, and before long, little Beichen fell asleep in his arms.
After settling the child into the small bed next door, Feng Qingyun returned, intending to interrogate Long Yin properly. Yet before he could even speak, he was suddenly pulled into the other’s embrace.
The moment Long Yin wrapped his arms around him, Feng Qingyun felt the unusual tension running through his muscles, so he looked up.
Immediately, he met Long Yin’s gaze.
Within those eyes flowed emotions so deep and obvious that everything became clear at once.
“Come now, my dear Majesty,” Feng Qingyun could not help laughing. “You’re the Heavenly Dao. Is getting married really enough to make you this nervous? What happened to your dignity?”
Long Yin buried his face in the hollow of his neck and muttered: “Don’t have any.”
But whether he meant dignity or composure was unclear.
Feng Qingyun laughed so hard that even his own anxiety faded. Wrapping his arms around Long Yin, he said: “Alright. After tomorrow’s ceremony, I have a surprise for you. So either cultivate or get some sleep…”
Before he could finish, Long Yin suddenly lifted his head, asking, “What surprise?”
Feng Qingyun turned around and gently gathered Long Yin’s hair between his fingers.
“If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise anymore.”
Long Yin fell silent once again. After a long while, he lowered his head and buried himself in Feng Qingyun’s neck. The sight made Feng Qingyun laugh helplessly as he said, “Counting all those different illusion worlds, I don’t even know how many weddings we’ve had already. What exactly are you nervous about?”
The moment Feng Qingyun referred to tomorrow’s ceremony not as a Dao companion ceremony but as a wedding, Long Yin froze. A flood of affection and fear surged through his heart simultaneously.
“I’m just afraid…” Long Yin held him tightly. “Afraid that all of this is only a dream.”
“What if, when the sun rises tomorrow, every beautiful dream comes to an end?”
At that, Feng Qingyun looked at him for a long time. Then he smiled.
“Honestly, I almost wish it were a dream.”
Long Yin blinked in surprise. Yet Feng Qingyun continued in the gentlest voice he had ever heard: “When the sun rises, there won’t be another life.”
“There won’t be any forgetting.”
“And there won’t be any regrets.”
“When I wake up, I’ll still be standing at the ceremony. I’ll walk up the steps and arrive before you.” A faint smile curved his lips. “Then, in front of everyone, I’ll kiss you and call you husband.”
“I really want to know…” His eyes glittered as he asked softly, “If that happened, what kind of reaction would you have?”
Long Yin felt as though a hand had suddenly clenched around his heart.
After a long silence, he finally smiled.
“Then this Lord would probably cry so hard he couldn’t speak.”
That answer immediately made Feng Qingyun laugh. He lowered his head and nestled comfortably into Long Yin’s embrace, but both of them knew that some regrets could never truly be erased.
The marks left by the past had already been branded into their lives. And Feng Qingyun knew even better than anyone what Long Yin truly meant every time he jokingly demanded another wedding ceremony.
It was the insecurity buried deep within his heart, the unease born from living amidst a happiness so perfect that it felt unreal. Yet even if perfection was rare, even if the past had left their souls riddled with scars, they still had countless mornings and evenings ahead of them.
Countless years.
One day, those old regrets would become nothing more than stories shared over tea.
The pain of separation.
The bitterness of longing.
The sorrow of unattainable love.
All of it would eventually become the contrast that made future sweetness shine even brighter.
…………………..
That night, neither of them did anything. They simply held each other and rested together until dawn painted the eastern horizon white. When sunlight finally spilled across the room, Feng Qingyun opened his eyes first.
Turning his head, he looked at the man beside him, the man who was obviously awake but pretending to sleep because he was too nervous. A smile immediately tugged at his lips.
Leaning down, he kissed him gently, then he deliberately teased: “Good husband, wake up. It’s time to get married.”
Long Yin’s ears instantly turned red. The next moment, he abruptly opened his eyes, and at that instant, the frightened young Heavenly Dao from long ago and the seemingly invincible Demon Emperor of today finally became one and the same.
The sight stirred Feng Qingyun’s heart so deeply that words failed him.
Long Yin stared at him without blinking, as though confirming that everything before him was real and not merely another dream. Only after a long while did he finally exhale in relief. Holding Feng Qingyun close, he lowered his head and whispered: “Thank goodness… I’m not dreaming.”
Feng Qingyun froze as countless emotions surged through his chest, but when he lowered his eyes, all that remained was tenderness and a smile. The corners of his eyes shimmered with tears too faint to notice as he gazed at the man who had waited for him for ten thousand years and had nearly vanished from heaven and earth for his sake.
“Of course you’re not dreaming.”
This time, you don’t need to look at me from within the crowd. You are no longer an outsider who never even received an invitation.
Two lifetimes, my dear dragon God.
“This is your wedding.”
Feng Qingyun gently placed his hand into Long Yin’s and rested his forehead against his. Then he laughed softly.
“Come. It’s time for us to get married.”
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