Chapter Two: Teaching Children

The lively girl’s innocent eyes sparkled like stars. Subconsciously, she pressed her slender fingers against the celestial stone she sat upon, her brows drawing together ever so slightly as she fell into thought.

“That little rascal causes trouble purely for amusement,” informed the tiny wild grass.

“Oh?”

“I’m certain of it! That mischief-maker is in it just for the fun. Otherwise, why would he, every single time he’s done, leave behind a stone tablet with five words carved on it, flaunting himself?” The wild grass was utterly convinced.

“Five words? What do they say?”

“‘To wring two tears from you.’”

“…”

On a celestial stone in the divine realm, the lively girl sat in a simple white gown, her dark hair cascading like a waterfall, her bright eyes shining as she cradled the wild grass. Around her, soft halos of light floated gently.

As the wind-listening grass chattered on and on, countless tales of calamities—each one more unimaginable than the last—reached her ears.

“The last time, he not only ransacked the Sacred Hall of the Primal Teaching, but also defiled the Fountain of Life. That well is a sanctuary that blesses all living beings…”

“Can no one catch him?” The girl gently pinched the grass’s tender green leaves. Her luminous eyes shone with the glow of dawn. Hearing these unheard-of feats—disasters that pierced the very sea of stars—she was both astonished and perplexed.

To act with such reckless abandon, and yet rest so easy, without a care? After all, among those wronged are powers led by lords of gods and sovereigns of celestial realms, each with unmatched mastery—surely they could find a trace?

“Well, that little scourge may cause havoc on an unimaginable scale, but he’s always quick and clean—leaving behind nothing but the stone tablet. To this day, no one has seen his true face. It’s said that even tracking him through time is futile—most likely, some great figure is shielding him from behind the scenes.”

Three years ago, there was a theft at the Sacred House of the Star Sea. Someone glimpsed a furtive figure flash by at the scene. The major factions, upon hearing this, were so delighted they couldn’t sleep for a night. Together, they pooled treasures to hire an ancient celestial sage to divine the culprit.

But the result was astonishing. In the midst of the sage’s calculations, a mysterious force intervened, severing the trail, erasing all causality—leaving only one fact: the one behind all the mischief was still a child!

“I see…” the lively girl murmured.

No wonder he is so fearless—if there truly is a saint of towering might behind him. Yet why would such a saint indulge his mischief?

What sort of person was he? Playful by nature, perhaps still very young. If whimsy led him to stir up trouble in the Sea of Flowers, would all be thrown into chaos?

“He… hasn’t set his sights on the Sea of Flowers, has he?” The girl hesitated. If her home became his next target, it would be disastrous.

---

“Hmph! He’d never dare!” The wild grass leapt up in a huff, shaking its leaves in a mock boxing match against the air.

“What is our Sea of Flowers? It’s the relic of the gods, a sacred land from the ancient celestial age. Just the protective haze laid down by the goddess herself would be more than enough to stop that troublemaker from breaking through.

Let alone this place. The other shore’s pure land, forged by nine generations of Sea of Flowers’ masters, is guarded by the ancient heart of the Morning Star. No one would dare underestimate it! If that mischief-maker dared set foot in our Sea of Flowers, he wouldn’t even dare utter a squeak.”

The wild grass snorted.

“…That’s a relief, then.” The girl smiled despite herself. The threads of worry in her clear, crystalline eyes began to fade, and she seemed heartened by the grass’s reassurance.

…

The Sea of Flowers adrift in the starry sky was fragrant and lush, its beauty almost dreamlike.

In the distant void, light-years away, several stars shone bright as diamonds. Countless streams of purity from the galaxy—chaotic energies, primordial essence—had flowed ceaselessly for centuries toward the Sea of Flowers, pouring into the vast luminous curtain that veiled its surface.

This nourished the starry continent and created a sturdy barrier.

“Old man, this protective haze is so fragile.”

Amid blossoming flowers and verdant grasses, Feng Shang rapped on the light curtain, producing a series of crisp, melodic notes.

Just moments ago, he had passed through the haze with ease, stepping onto the pure land of the Sea of Flowers.

On the luminous shield the wild grass so prided itself on, there was now a gaping hole, plainly visible to the naked eye. Around the collapsed breach, a layer of blue light thrust aside the swirling multicolored energies.

“The haze was crafted by the goddess of this place. Don’t break anything, or you’ll be the laughingstock of the spirits here,” said Da Jiuxing, glancing at the back of Feng Shang’s hand, where a piece of blue treasure was hidden. He sighed—this very item, bestowed by his own domineering brother, was the reason Feng Shang acted with such impunity, and he couldn’t confiscate it.

The old man shook his head, and with a wave of his sleeve, a plume of snowy white light drifted out, gently mending the unsightly half-length fissure in the veil.

“I have no interest in breaking things—there’s no satisfaction in it,” said Feng Shang.

“This haze may have spirit arrays carved into it and absorb the energies of nearby stars to reinforce itself, but in my eyes, it’s not even as strong as the ancient shrouds of the Morning Star,” he added dismissively.

Feng Shang’s face was sharply sculpted, his eyes bright and memorable, even the disdainful curl of his lips was perfectly shaped.

---

Yet for all his striking poise, there was nothing likable about him; arrogance seeped from every word.

“Come out here and wait,” said Da Jiuxing, reaching through the air. Instantly, a mystical corridor appeared between them, and in the blink of an eye, Feng Shang—who a moment before had stood inside the haze—was now by his side.

“Old man, your mastery over the void is getting better and better. How about teaching me your ways?” Feng Shang smiled in praise.

Da Jiuxing replied in a faint tone, “I’ve gathered so many treasures and resources for you. If you’d just follow my instructions and cultivate diligently for four or five centuries, you’d naturally reach this stage.”

“Isn’t there a way to just pass it on directly, without all that cultivation? I’m afraid of hard work.” Feng Shang shook his head. Four centuries was too long—he’d much rather learn it overnight.

“Always seeking shortcuts, never striving for progress,” Da Jiuxing sighed softly.

When he had first found this child, his heart had been filled with joy and hope. He’d wept tears of happiness, brimming with confidence in Feng Shang’s future.

But over the years, Da Jiuxing realized his own approach was flawed. He had indulged and spoiled Feng Shang far too much, letting him stray ever further down a lawless path.

He had once placed great hopes in him—dreams that Feng Shang would inherit his mantle and become the universe’s foremost starforger. With such noble birth, outstanding talent, his own guidance, and a treasure trove of resources, what could possibly stand in the way?

Now…

Da Jiuxing felt his enthusiasm wane. With a temperament as mischievous as Feng Shang’s, there was no hoping for a sudden change of heart and a newfound diligence. For now, he’d let him flaunt himself as he pleased.

After all, youth is a time of recklessness and fearlessness. When the time was right, he’d send him out to temper his spirit and hone his character.

His line was rare to the point of extinction. Now that a descendant had finally appeared, Da Jiuxing couldn’t bear to be harsh, nor would he ever let him come to harm.

Hadn’t he himself been a wild, unruly soul when he first emerged into the world? Only after many trials did he learn to restrain himself.

Raising a child, after all, must be a step-by-step process.

With that thought, Da Jiuxing’s mood eased considerably.