Commissioned by Heaven, Eternal Prosperity and Longevity

The clamor of cicadas in midsummer buzzed noisily, their chirps carried by the night breeze into the tranquil Qiushui Pavilion.

Even the cicadas were wailing from the heat, so it was only natural for popsicles to melt.

Ying Bing’s jade-like skin, usually cool as ice, now felt utterly pliant. If she didn’t lean her head back, her entire body would melt into his embrace. The hairpins and tasseled ornaments she had just fastened were already askew, yet she lacked the strength to retreat anywhere.

The cicadas’ cries no longer reached her ears.

Who could blame her? At first, that childish fool had only been sniffing the icy scent of her skin, but soon she could hear nothing at all. Her ears burned—was this what it felt like to have one’s hearing devoured?

Fortunately, Li Mo released her after a while.

“Wait… no sealing mosquitoes on my neck,” Ying Bing shrank back slightly, the moonlight in her eyes nearly shattered.

“But summer’s already here, isn’t it?”

Li Mo ground his teeth with solemn seriousness, like a diligent little expert in sealing, brimming with concern for mosquitoes.

“Your parents are… they’ll see,” Ying Bing whispered.

As everyone knew, Li Mo was a genius.

The genius pondered briefly. “Then can I seal somewhere they can’t see?”

Places unseen by others surely couldn’t be bitten by mosquitoes either!

Yet the usually sharp-witted Ying Bing failed to realize this. At a loss for words, she could only squirm slightly.

“Let go for a bit. Be good.”

“I’m listening. Since you’ve given permission, I won’t let go.”

“You’re pressing against me.”

“Huh? Oh, I see…”

Li Mo paused, then swiftly pulled out the imperial decree from his sleeve before wrapping his arms around her again.

The blush on Ying Bing’s ears hadn’t faded. She shot him a reproachful glance, not daring to let him nibble her ears again.

Since she was stuck being held, she might as well sit on his lap…

The moment she did, her body stiffened—regret instantly flooded her.

She’d forgotten. Anyone with a shred of sense would know:

Even if an imperial decree pressed uncomfortably, it wouldn’t radiate heat, would it?

Ying Bing tried to shift away, but her legs felt weak, leaving her only able to wriggle slightly in his arms.

“……”

Li Mo inhaled sharply, catching a whiff of icy fragrance. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a shadow outside the door.

“Hm?” Ying Bing also noticed someone passing by.

“Another intruder?”

“It’s Clan Leader Shang,” Ying Bing murmured, pursing her lips.

Melon seed shells littered the doorway.

No one knew how Shang Qinqing had managed to crack them so silently.

Glancing at the sky, Li Mo realized dawn was approaching. If he lingered any longer, his parents would surely wonder why he hadn’t come downstairs yet. Reluctantly, he rose to leave.

Stepping outside, he found the sneaky Shang Qinqing still loitering nearby.

“Clan Leader Shang, you’re still here?” Li Mo asked, baffled.

Shang Qinqing’s speed was legendary—swifter than a bird riding a somersault cloud. How could she not have fled in time?

“Ahem, I was just passing by. What do you mean, ‘still here’?”

Shang Qinqing spat out a melon seed shell with practiced nonchalance.

“What were you passing by for?”

“Needed the outhouse, obviously.”

“?”

Eyeing the pile of seed shells on the ground, Li Mo decided not to expose her.

Seems she hadn’t left because she hadn’t finished snacking…

Shaking his head, Li Mo returned to the first floor. With his parents still around, he had to stay in the guest room—at least for appearances’ sake.

“Did I forget something…?”

Closing the door behind him, Li Mo sat on the carved wooden bed and suddenly patted himself down.

Then he remembered.

The imperial decree for the “auspicious date” was still blank, and he’d left it behind.

But leaving it with the ice block was fine too. As Gu Xueqin would say, what’s yours is mine…

“Huh?”

Li Mo froze mid-sip of tea.

He looked down in bewilderment.

“I didn’t visit the outhouse earlier—I’m not Elder Xu… Wait.”

His expression turned grave.

Curious, he leaned in and sniffed.

……

Upstairs in Qiushui Pavilion.

Ying Bing changed into fresh clothes, stuffing the discarded ones into a large doll—skipping the washing step entirely.

Then she curled up on the bed, hugging her pale legs, her chin resting on her knees as she gazed absently into the distance.

If those who knew her in her past life learned what had just happened,

they’d probably think the world had gone mad.

Even she felt like she was dreaming—why else would she feel like she was treading on clouds?

Once renowned as the frosty master of the Moon Palace, the Phoenix Empress of ruthless dao… now…

“He couldn’t have noticed…”

Ying Bing steeled herself before daring to lift her head.

Her eyes fell on the imperial decree lying on the table.

The space for the auspicious date remained blank.

Emperor Jingtai had been considerate—instead of setting the date himself, he’d left it to them, a gesture of goodwill. Perhaps it stemmed from his own youthful wanderings and unrequited affections in the past?

Fingering the tasseled hairpin at her temple,

she uncurled her delicate hand and picked up the brush. The tip trembled for a long moment before she finally inscribed a date—year and month included.

Had Li Mo seen it, he might have found the date familiar.

…

The next morning.

Shang Qinqing and Qin Yuzhi were up early.

Well, “up” might not be accurate—they hadn’t slept at all. Shang Qinqing had tossed and turned restlessly, and after sharing her observations with Qin Yuzhi, the latter couldn’t sleep a wink either.

Dizzy from their indulgence, the two stayed wide-eyed until dawn.

Yet when they emerged, they found two figures already in the courtyard.

Were there even earlier risers than their sleepless selves?

“Little Ying, why are you standing here so early?” Shang Qinqing asked.

“The early bird catches the worm,” Ying Bing replied, sipping tea.

“Boss, why are you washing your pants first thing in the morning?” Qin Yuzhi asked Li Mo.

“Oh, spilled tea on them,” Li Mo coughed lightly, shooting a glance at the ice block before focusing on scrubbing his pants. The particularly scrutinized area bubbled vigorously under his ministrations.

The two stood there in the morning,

neither speaking to the other.

The atmosphere was… odd.

Qin Yuzhi’s eyes widened. “Qinqing, your guess last night was actually—”

“Ahem!”

Noticing the teacup nearly slipping from the frosty immortal’s slender fingers, Shang Qinqing coughed loudly.

Secretly savoring sweetness was one thing—why shout it out so brazenly?

“I’ll make breakfast,” Li Mo said, hanging the clothes before darting into the kitchen.

Ying Bing remained lost in thought until Shang Qinqing changed the subject:

“Little Ying, your hairpin and tassels are lovely. Where’d Li Mo buy them?”

Ying Bing lowered her eyes gently. “A family heirloom.”

“Oh? Whose family?”

“Li Mo’s.”

“!”

Shang Qinqing and Qin Yuzhi leaned back in unison.

They exchanged glances, then hastily clapped hands over each other’s mouths, stifling their manic grins.