“Jealousy is so dead!” Shang Wu wiped away the drool at the corner of her mouth.
The Cold Fairy swatted her hand away, stood up, and took a few deep breaths before shooting her a thinly-veiled glare.
To be fair, Shang Wu had a point.
Shang Wu was tall and built like a brick outhouse, with a physique that could rival the voluptuous beauties of the Tang Dynasty. In comparison, Ying Bing was equally tall but slender and graceful, with a strikingly cold demeanor that made her look like a divine being—a perfect blend of elegance and ethereal beauty.
So, in terms of heartiness, Shang Wu took the cake.
But in terms of visual appeal…? Well, that was another story.
“No more of this nonsense next time,” Ying Bing chastised, her face betraying hints of irritation.
“Chill, I was just joking!” Shang Wu rubbed her hands together, clearly older yet adorably maintaining a facade of innocence.
“I mean, with you looking all stunning and curvy, I can’t help but wonder if that dress will even fit you anymore.”
“What dress?” Ying Bing’s eyes narrowed instinctively.
Little Li, the moral compass, wasn’t around to rein Shang Wu in either.
But this time, she was caught off guard as Shang Wu pulled a magnificent “Hundred Birds” dress out of thin air.
“Pretty, right? It’s for you! You’ll look amazing in it.”
Shang Wu took a swig from her gourd and squinted her eyes, clearly pleased with herself. “This material is top-notch. I’m not going to wear it during the gala anyway.”
Ying Bing gently skimmed the dress’s sleeves; the fabric felt like silk but was actually made from delicate feathers—hundreds, maybe thousands of them.
She recognized each feather came from various exotic birds, many of which had long since vanished from the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths.
There would never be another dress like this one.
She shook her head and pushed the dress back. “I won’t be wearing this after turning eighteen, and if you don’t want it, who knows? I might just swap it for a drink someday!”
Seeing Ying Bing deep in thought, Shang Wu folded her arms, ready to persuade her: “Hmph, and those little ladies are all decked out just hoping Little Mo will take a second glance. He’s such a curious one—don’t you worry he’ll get lost in a flower bed?”
“Thanks,” Ying Bing said, taken aback. The hesitation on her face vanished, and she accepted the dress, her guard dropping.
There was sincerity in her thank you, but Shang Wu couldn’t resist dropping the act: “We’re family! What’s there to thank about? Just think of it as a belated engagement gift.”
“Belated?”
“Oh right, you two aren’t married yet, right? Ha! Guess I’ve been looking at too many picture books lately. Hurry, try it on!” Shang Wu smacked the back of her head.
The Cold Fairy was too meshed in admiring the dress to notice the latter part of that conversation.
The “Hundred Birds” dress was a stunningly elaborate version of the traditional “Horse Face” skirt but was slightly shorter and flashier.
This dress was crafted back when the Bronze Divine Tree still stood tall, birds nesting above, breathing life into the earth and protecting the flow of existence.
So, this dress truly contained the essence of the universe and the whispers of countless beings—its beauty only enhanced by the passing ages.
Ying Bing stood at 1.76 meters, on the brink of turning eighteen—the dress’s age perfectly matched hers.
After changing, she stepped out from behind the screen into the sunlight, and the dress shimmered brilliantly, floating like a halo around her. Slightly short for her, the hem barely covered her knees, and the jade hairpin she wore perched just perfectly atop her flowing black hair.
Talk about an unexpected twist.
However, with the moon being at its most beautiful phase, the Cold Fairy’s ethereal presence gained an enchanting, almost lively quality.
Oh, and those legs peeking from under the dress—wearing pearly white lotus silk… Who exactly was she trying to impress?
So that’s where the term “celestial aura” comes from…
But this usual paragon of tranquility was feeling uncharacteristically nervous.
“Does it fit?”
“Seeing you head-on, in the light, all the same, with a hundred bird-like appearances…” Shang Wu muttered.
“Very profound.”
“Not my words.”
Shang Wu barely managed to keep a straight face before breaking into a grin: “Let’s be honest, even Little Mo won’t be able to handle this! He’s bound to get so mesmerized he’ll bleed a river! Little Ice Girl, let me see again!”
Her sneaky antics were relentless.
But this time, Ying Bing was ready. She swiftly sidestepped and darted out the door, not sure if she was escaping Shang Wu’s grip or eager to see how mesmerized some Childish Ghost would be.
Shang Wu watched as sunlight poured through the gaps of the Wan Chun Pavilion, casting floating dust in the beams of light, illuminating the well-worn staircase.
The girl, glowing with celestial grace, lifted her skirt and made her way down the stairs.
As she stepped through the light, her smile became increasingly radiant, like humanity’s most exquisite bloom unfolding against the wind and sunlight.
“Thud thud thud…”
After a gulp of wine, Shang Wu’s previously carefree demeanor vanished, and she blinked in a daze.
Ah, the beloved pet of the Shang Emperor, notorious for being mischievous and cheeky, who didn’t give a hoot about the spirits of the avian realm—even daring to pluck feathers from divine birds.
People said she relied on her pampered status, looking down on anyone with authority.
But the Shang Emperor not only ignored her antics; he even worshiped the heavens. After receiving divine consent, he wove a dress from the feathers of a hundred birds as her coming-of-age gift.
Named ‘Light of the Hundred Feathers.’
When the dress was ready, she proudly sprinted down the royal corridor and leapt into her father’s arms.
What did he say back then?
“Let’s show the ministers that no divine bird can compare to my daughter’s grandeur.”
“Let’s go!”
That proud and joyous voice still echoed in her ears.
Shang Wu blinked; something about that tone felt off.
She bolted to the window and saw Little Li, protective as ever, whisking the Cold Fairy into a carriage, blocking others from peeking.
He then waved a hand to signal everyone to get moving, and the convoy was off!
“Oi! You heartless little rascal, I’m not in yet!”
Inside the carriage, Little Li, blissfully unaware of the world outside, had his full attention fixed on the Ice Chunk.
He’d even forgotten to breathe, so don’t expect him to remember anything else!
…….
P.S.: Please recharge my electronic resources (feebly).
