The Witch of Night Raid

The lake was calm, the eaves of the pavilion reflecting the sunlight.

Ripples shimmered.

Silent reflections.

But the tranquility was broken by the voice of an old man.

Li Wanshou wore a pained expression, his beard bristling as he glared and declared that Xu Xi's cultivation had reached its peak—it was high time he fathered eighty or ninety descendants.

Growing more impassioned,

the old man seemed parched and drained his cup of spirit tea in one gulp.

Xu Xi chuckled, refilling the teacup unhurriedly as he listened to his teacher's marital advice—served like a bowl of motivational soup.

Only at the end

did he finally ask, "Master, why the sudden concern about this?"

At this, the old man fell silent for a long moment, his tone tinged with melancholy.

"This master merely wishes to tell you..."

"Some things should not be delayed too long."

"And—"

Li Wanshou frowned deeply, glaring at Xu Xi across the stone table before huffing again. "You rebellious disciple, you're no longer young. It's time to seriously consider marriage."

Xu Xi knew.

When Li Wanshou spoke of age, he wasn't referring to the years of his physical body in the real world.

But the accumulated lifetimes from countless simulations and reincarnations.

Layer upon layer.

Life after life.

Added together, Xu Xi was indeed no longer young—in a sense, he was an "old-timer."

"Hummm—"

Accompanied by a faint spatial vibration,

Xu Xi left the Heavenly Sword Sect.

Standing in the void, he strolled leisurely, gazing down at the flourishing capital below.

"Marriage, huh..."

Recalling his teacher's urging, Xu Xi's expression turned complicated.

Naturally, he had thought about marriage—after all, humans were bound by emotions and desires.

But.

Some things were beyond his unilateral decision.

He couldn't make such a choice recklessly.

"First, let's deliver Hong's supplements," Xu Xi shook his head, retrieving the various nourishing items he had prepared in advance before stepping into the underground of the Capital Supernatural United Bureau.

Familiar palace.

Familiar treasures.

Familiar dragon.

When Xu Xi arrived, the red dragon was lounging comfortably atop a mountain of gold and silver.

Jewels glittered, colors dazzled, and its crimson scales flowed like molten lava, radiating waves of scorching heat and mist.

With a sweep of its tail,

a howling storm formed.

Xu Xi nodded slightly. Setting aside other aspects, the dragon's appearance was undeniably intimidating.

"Keh keh keh!"

"Keh keh keh keh!"

Rex Santos was fast asleep.

Its massive head rested on the ground as it muttered incoherent dreams—fragments like "Dragon God," "rise," and "endure for eons" barely audible to Xu Xi.

"Come to think of it..."

"It's been a while since I last bonked Hong on the head."

The dragon's dream-talk amused Xu Xi.

After a moment's thought,

he placed the prepared supplements where the dragon would see them upon waking.

He even left an encouraging note,

urging the dragon to keep working hard for the sake of dragon-blood crop research.

"Well, that should do it."

"Sleeping so soundly—no need to wake it."

Satisfied with his arrangements, Xu Xi gave a slight nod before tearing open a spatial rift and leaving the underground palace filled with the dragon's thunderous snores.

Hours later,

the snoring gradually subsided.

Followed by an enraged roar.

"Despicable Dragon Speaker!"

"Daring to bribe the great dragon, Rex Santos Astarte Nesarion Akunologia Kakarogita!"

"Dragons... will never be slaves!!!"

Yet moments after, the sound of chewing echoed through the palace.

Gulp gulp.

Gulp gulp.

"So delicious~~~"

Spring, gentle and rainy.

Summer, sweltering and still.

Autumn, bountiful yet withering.

Winter, cold and snow-laden.

The cycle of seasons turned.

Days, months, years.

Time flowed inexorably toward the distant future, turning the gears of clocks, ticking the hands to new marks.

Time truly passed too quickly.

Xu Xi attended the full-moon celebration for Niu's child.

He spent peaceful days on Earth with several young women.

Tranquil, warm, beautiful.

Xu Xi cherished such a life, but occasionally, when he gazed at the sky, he felt an ominous premonition—like a storm brewing.

"An illusion?"

"Or perhaps not..."

Another year slipped by.

On the bustling Lunar New Year's Eve, households were adorned with lanterns and decorations. New, supernaturally enhanced fireworks bloomed brilliantly across Yanshan City's night sky.

Spring couplets.

Reunion dinner.

Red envelopes.

As in previous years, Xu Xi followed the traditions of the festival.

But this year was slightly different.

"Mo Li, you don’t want a red envelope?"

"That’s right, elder brother."

Xu Moli giggled, claiming she was no longer a child and thus had no need for New Year’s money.

While Xu Xi felt touched, he was also puzzled.

Because it wasn’t just Xu Moli.

The other young women had also refused their red envelopes this year.

"Did something happen?" Xu Xi wondered, but their faces showed only joy and warmth, no trace of anything amiss.

In the end,

Xu Xi dismissed his doubts.

Perhaps they had truly grown up.

"Dong— Dong—"

The New Year’s bell reverberated through the air, dispersing the smoke of fireworks and cleansing hidden shadows.

Xu Xi lit a small firecracker,

letting it pop symbolically in the courtyard.

The final ritual of the night.

"With the sound of firecrackers, another year passes. Tomorrow marks a new beginning."

Standing in the courtyard, Xu Xi looked toward the distant sky, where countless New Year’s fireworks crackled and blazed.

The spectacle seemed to set the heavens aflame,

dyeing them crimson.

"Truly, a peaceful life is the most beautiful."

A smile graced Xu Xi’s lips.

He turned and stepped inside, exchanging New Year’s blessings and goodnights with the five young women.

With that done,

Xu Xi headed to his bedroom, ready to rest.

Yet this New Year’s Eve was far too unusual—so unusual that sleep eluded him.

He had barely lain down,

drowsiness yet to take hold,

when someone lifted the covers and slipped in beside him.