Chapter 1

The Moon-Silt Gazebo hovered over the valley like a teardrop made of pearl. Below us, the Cinder-Lilies were beginning to pulse with a soft, bioluminescent crimson—a sign that midnight was approaching. In my previous life, I had spent this exact hour staring at the steam rising from my teacup, terrified that a single misplaced word would shatter my cultivation or, worse, offend the icy dignity of the man sitting across from me.

Lord Haze looked exactly as I remembered: devastating. His silver robes were immaculate, and his spiritual pressure was a physical weight in the air, smelling of ozone and ancient snow. He reached for his cup, his movements precise and agonizingly slow.

"The essence of this tea is particularly potent tonight, Little Fairy," he said, his voice a low baritone that used to make my heart stutter in fear. "It requires an hour of silent meditation to properly—"

I didn't let him finish. I kicked off my silk slippers, letting them clutter unceremoniously against the white stone, and tucked my bare feet under my thighs. Haze’s eyes snapped to mine, a flicker of genuine shock breaking through his frozen mask.

"Actually, Haze, the tea is freezing," I said, leaning forward until the space between us evaporated.

I didn't wait for an invitation. I reached out and covered his hand with mine. His skin was warm—startlingly so—and I felt the familiar jolt of his spiritual essence. In my last life, I would have been executed for such a breach of protocol. Now, I just squeezed his fingers.

"Your cultivation is so... chilly," I whispered, pitching my voice low and playful. "Doesn't it get lonely up there on your high frosty peak? I think you need someone to help you stir the embers."

Haze stiffened, his fingers twitching under mine, but he didn't pull away. "Lumi, the Path of Loneliness is the only way to achieve the Great Transcendence. To indulge in... heat... is to invite deviation."

"Then let’s deviate," I countered. I used a tiny spark of my own fairy essence to drag his heavy sandalwood chair across the stone until our knees brushed. I saw his throat bob as he swallowed hard. The Great Lord Haze, the man who had slain thousand-year-old demons without breaking a sweat, was flushing a delicious shade of pink at the tips of his ears.

I knew his secrets now. I knew that beneath that silver silk, he had a small, sensitive spot right at the base of his neck that he used to rub when he was stressed. I knew he secretly hated the bitterness of the tea we were drinking. And I knew, with the certainty of a woman who had seen him mourn my own funeral, that he was absolutely starving for the very thing I was offering.

"You're being shamelessly bold," he breathed, though his hand had turned over to lace his fingers through mine.

"I've practiced being shy for a hundred years," I said, leaning in until my breath fanned his cheek. "It was boring. This life is for being happy. Don't you want to be happy, Haze?"

The Cinder-Lilies below us burst into full bloom, casting a warm, rosy glow into the gazebo. The "once-a-decade" ritual was supposed to be about spiritual refinement, but as Haze’s composure finally shattered, he reached out with his free arm and hooked it around my waist, pulling me firmly into his lap. The Sword Immortal had finally dropped his blade.

"You are a very troublesome fairy," he murmured into my hair, his voice losing its icy edge and melting into something thick with affection.

"And you," I said, settling against his chest and closing my eyes, "are finally learning how to host a proper tea party."

I didn't care about the Great Transcendence or the celestial heavens. As the jasmine scent swirled around us, I realized that some things were worth more than immortality—and I wasn't going to spend a single second of this life anywhere else.