You're Cold, I'm Hot

The copper coin landed perfectly upright, wedged between the stone bricks.

The Hall of Wind-Catching fell into silence.

"Ah well, there's no helping it. Seems like the heavens have decided," Li Mo slapped his thigh and sighed with resignation.

"Even this could get me picked. Guess I have to go then."

Pojun frowned at Li Mo, never expecting such an outcome. He turned to the others nearby.

"Any objections from the rest of you?"

The group exchanged uneasy glances until Dong Changtian finally spoke up.

"Alas, since things have come to this, we can only offer what little help we can."

Pojun brightened, only for Dong Changtian to add,

"Bring it all out."

Blade hunters carried in a large chest filled with an odd assortment—meticulously packed rations, stirrups, fine wine, and even an ornately crafted urn...

"Brother Li Mo, go with our blessings."

"Sniff... Sob..."

"When you come back alive, we’ll climb trees for bird eggs together..."

The crowd bid farewell to Li Mo with tearful eyes.

"What kind of emotional nonsense is this? Do you actually want me back or not?!"

Li Mo's lips twitched uncontrollably.

Staring at the chest, he felt like surviving the trip would somehow be impolite.

"Enough. No more shirking responsibilities," Pojun massaged his temples. People always praised Mo City’s unity and fearlessness in the face of death.

But in the end, mortals were still mortals—no different at their core.

He walked to the doorway and snapped,

"Report to me by high noon tomorrow."

---

The moon hung bright overhead.

As the year waned, a light snow drifted through the evening air. After leaving the Hall of Wind-Catching, the group—knowing Li Mo would depart at dawn—suggested having hotpot at his place.

Li Mo, having matters to discuss with them, agreed to host the impromptu feast.

Who knew when he’d return? Old Dong and Old Qi, despite their vigor, were aging. Without breaking the boundary between mortal and celestial realms, their vitality would fade swiftly.

"Eh? That candy shop’s gone?"

"That was Wang Mazi’s place after he came back from the Earth City. Lines used to stretch for miles—my first taste of candy was from Brother Li Mo’s treat."

"Now it’s a nut roaster. Run by Wang Mazi’s grandson."

Walking the transformed streets with these old-timers, listening to their nostalgic tales, Li Mo noticed another "Brother Li Mo" in their stories.

Probably someone who shared his surname.

He’d once asked the village elder’s name, but Dong Changtian would just wave it off, saying the old chief wished to be forgotten after passing.

Yet their bond was unmistakable.

"Why’s the river gone? The fields too..."

Dong Changtian had eagerly suggested catching fish for the hotpot.

But when Li Mo led him to the remembered spot, they found only a bustling new thoroughfare where the river and farmland once lay.

“Water’s drawn by the waterwheels outside the city now—Brother Li Mo’s invention. Who carries buckets anymore?” Dong Ge-yu shook his head.

"Changed so much..." Dong Changtian suddenly seemed wistful.

"All for the better. It’ll keep improving," Li Mo chuckled, picking up a stray stick and giving it a playful swing.

"I've written down the plans for what comes next. Just follow them as you see fit—things will only get better from here."

"They should get better. Good, good."

Dong Changtian nodded, then smacked his lips. "That stick you picked up, Li Mo, it’s so straight."

"Here, you can have it to play with."

"Hmph, at my age, I wouldn’t even be interested if it weren’t so straight."

Everyone laughed. In the end, they didn’t catch any fish, didn’t find any bird eggs, and didn’t dig up any potatoes. They had to buy groceries from the market before heading home.

They say when things change, people change, and all is lost.

But the opposite is also true—when things change but the people remain the same, it’s still the same beautiful scene from back then.

Yet while everything else had changed, one place stayed exactly as it was.

The blacksmith’s shop where Li Mo had first been born.

Dong Changtian and the others had kept the place untouched, preserving it just as it had been.

After moving back, Li Mo, the young swordsman, occasionally indulged in his hobby—forging iron, rising with the sun and resting at dusk.

Ying Bing stayed by his side, day after day, year after year, in peaceful contentment.

Time seemed to have no hold on this place.

Back then, everyone had found it strange—how could an ordinary blacksmith and a celestial being, one so revered even the Tianzu dared not speak his name lightly, have anything to do with each other? And yet, they lived together seamlessly, without the slightest hint of incongruity.

How did he deserve that?

But over time, they came to understand.

There was something about Li Mo—a brilliance that only revealed itself after years of observation, growing brighter with time.

Creak—

The heavy wooden door swung open, and the aroma of hotpot wafted through, cutting through the thin veil of snowfall.

"I’m back."

"Mm, we can start preparing the food now."

Ying Bing’s dark hair was tied into a braid, draped over one shoulder, her plain indigo dress washed soft.

Her lips were tinted red—perhaps she had tasted the hotpot broth earlier. Though the base had been prepared by Li Mo, she had simply reheated it, still unsure of her own cooking skills...

Seeing the group enter, Ying Bing nodded and gestured for them to come in.

When Li Mo rubbed his hands together and reached for the peanuts, her chopsticks snapped down on the back of his hand.

"Wash your hands first."

"Oh..."

Li Mo sheepishly shuffled over to the water basin.

Dong Changtian, Old Qi, and the others, though they had visited countless times, still felt a surreal disbelief.

Who could have imagined that the man before them was the one who had single-handedly ended the last celestial calamity, a being who had transcended mortality?

Every time they saw her like this, it was hard not to wonder if the world had gone mad.

"You all need to wash up too."

"Right, right."

Under her gaze, the group of elders stiffened like children caught misbehaving, lining up at the water basin one by one.

Soon, everyone took their seats—three benches in total. Li Mo and Ying Bing shared one, while the others squeezed onto the remaining two.

The snow fell heavier outside, but inside, they ate hotpot and sipped wine, utterly at ease.

Li Mo took a sip of wine and sighed. "I hope you’ll all still be hale and hearty when I return. Don’t go passing on before me while I’m off fighting in foreign lands."

"Not a chance."

"This trip might take two or three years. And in the worst-case scenario—"

Before he could finish, Ying Bing’s foot pressed lightly on his.

Frowning, she said, "Say ‘knock on wood.’"

"...Knock on wood."

"Li Mo, you didn’t have to knock so hard. I haven’t even started eating yet."

Qi Tiezhu wore a troubled expression.

Dong Changtian waved his hand dismissively. "Enough, let's not dwell on unhappy matters. Next time we meet, we’ll give you a big red envelope—consider it our wedding gift."

Li Mo was taken aback. "What wedding gift?"

"For your marriage, of course."

"Right, right! If we all meet again safe and sound, it’s about time you settled down."

"......"

"Or you could just consummate first and hold the ceremony later."

"???"