Author: Mai Xiang Ji Ne
Volume: 1
Age Rating: Mature
Exclusive Extra: √
Translator：LangTech, Yingli Ouyang
Editor：KiKi

Synopsis

Crybaby Jing Feirong was born to inherit the throne. As the youngest son of the Heavenly Emperor, his cultivation path has left him tormented by the heavy burden of expectation. And when he’s forced to marry the aloof god Chu Yanchuan, Jing Feirong throws the entire heavens into chaos, trying to fight his destiny… until he sees his fiancé’s face.
Chu Yanchuan’s beauty is unmatched across the six realms. On their wedding night, the normally distant god shows a hidden side of himself—turning Jing Feirong into a clingy, lovestruck dragon.
Jing Feirong thought he was going to enjoy a happy domestic life with his husband, but fate has something else in store for him…

Product Info

Coming Soon…

Book Photos

Coming Soon…

Preview

In the early morning, the gods gathered around the Celestial Execution Platform.
“Jing Feirong!” roared the Heavenly Emperor, rushing to the scene. “What are you doing?!”
At the platform’s center stood a young god with crimson eyes. His dark hair was pulled into a loose, messy bun, stray strands whipping in the wind. With each gust, his wide sleeves flared dramatically.
“Father,” he choked, tears streaking down his face. “I’ve made up my mind. Don’t try to stop me.”
Beside the Heavenly Emperor, the court historian swiftly flipped open his book, muttering as his brush swept across the page.
“In the 9,715th year of the Ancient Era, His Highness Jing Feirong, Fifth Prince of the Dragon Clan, was forced into a marriage by his father, the Heavenly Emperor. Unable to endure such tyranny, he resolved to end his life atop the Celestial Execution Platform. A young god, unwavering in the face of oppression…”
With each word, his voice grew more impassioned, edging toward the theatrical.
The Heavenly Emperor scowled and flicked his hand. Guards dragged the babbling old man away.
“And so have I,” the Emperor declared coldly. “Either jump or step aside. The other gods still have reports to present in the Numinous Sky Hall.”
Lost in his misery, Jing Feirong stiffened at his father’s words, disbelief freezing him in place. The tears clinging to his chin trembled in the wind.
“What?”
“You’re not jumping?” The Heavenly Emperor arched a brow and gestured again. “Give him a hand.”
Five guards stepped forward at once.
“Wait!” Jing Feirong’s voice cracked. “Father! Shouldn’t we talk about this—”
“No.”
The young god paled and stumbled back, his long legs betraying him as he missed a step and toppled over the edge of the platform.
Below lay a dense, deadly barrier. Even the mightiest deity would be annihilated with the slightest touch.
Jing Feirong clung desperately to the platform’s edge, his fingers trembling with the strain. It took all his strength to lift his gaze, only to meet his father’s cold, unmoved stare. The sheer indifference broke something inside him, and his tears turned raw and genuine.
“Father! What’s wrong with you? Say something, please!”
Unshaken, the Heavenly Emperor turned away. “I will receive all of you in the Numinous Sky Hall shortly.”
The gods dispersed at once, leaving behind Jing Feirong’s hoarse, anguished cries echoing across the heavens. Rumor claimed he dangled there for an entire day, until sunset, when the Heavenly Emperor finally permitted the guards to pull him up. Even then, Jing Feirong sat alone on the platform, sobbing until his Third Brother coaxed him away, only with the promise of dinner.
And so, another dragon in this world learned what heartbreak felt like.

---

The Demon Realm lay shrouded in eternal darkness. Somber clouds churned like endless tides while howling winds swept across the sands, and the Desolate Marsh was no exception.
Chu Yanchuan stood at the edge of the barrier, watching the golden-red sealing sigil swirl slowly within. Beneath it rested a square base etched with carvings of savage, otherworldly creatures, all encircled by stone pillars bound in thick chains. Above the sigil hovered a massive totem, glowing softly with blue light.
“Wake up,” Yu Cang said.
As though surfacing from a daze, Chu Yanchuan inhaled and opened his half-lidded eyes.
“I wasn’t asleep,” he muttered wearily. Gathering the folds of his wide sleeves, he mumbled, “It’s getting cold, especially here in the Demon Realm.”
Yu Cang nodded. “It is time.”
“Right. The wedding’s today. I almost forgot.” Chu Yanchuan rubbed at his temple.
The next moment, a celestial priest approached and bowed deeply. With utmost reverence, he announced, “Your Lordliness, Your Majesty, the Star Lord sent by the Heavenly Court has arrived, and the ceremonial officials await outside.”
“I’ll be right there,” Chu Yanchuan sighed.
Chu Yanchuan had not expected the ceremony to be so extravagant.
To welcome the groom, thousands of heavenly guards and hundreds of celestial priests lined the roads. The mounts of the Three Pure Ones arrived bearing gifts. At the head of the procession strode Samantabhadra’s white elephant, followed by the golden-winged Garuda carrying the palanquin. Behind them, a hundred divine steeds soared through the skies.
Above stretched the Nine Heavens, while below flowed the River of Eternal Dawn. The giant Peng Bird flapped its majestic wings, and the Weaver Goddess embroidered the drifting clouds. In the East blazed the scorching sun, while in the West, the moon gleamed bright, encircled by a host of shimmering stars.
It was a spectacle worthy of a Primordial God, whose beauty was as renowned as his divine status. Countless deities gathered along the road, desperate for even a glimpse of the groom. Yet with curtains cascading in layer upon layer, all they could see was the outline of a refined chin and a slender hand resting on a knee. Crimson silk accentuated the elegance radiating from his graceful fingers.
Inside the palanquin, Chu Yanchuan had planned to nap, but the endless noise outside made it impossible.
It was, after all, nothing more than an arranged marriage. He had already heard about Jing Feirong’s tearful, theatrical display on the platform. And now, seeing how the Heavenly Emperor orchestrated such a lavish spectacle, Chu Yanchuan couldn’t help but wonder whether the Fifth Prince of the Dragon Clan was truly the emperor’s biological son.
It was a question he would never dare voice aloud, for fear that the fragile prince might burst into tears yet again.

---

After reaching the Heavenly Court, Chu Yanchuan, too exhausted to endure the formalities, went straight to Jing Feirong’s bedchambers. He drew back the curtains, collapsed into bed without even changing out of his thin red robes, and let the fragrance of burning incense soothe him into slumber.
By the time he stirred awake, the moon hung high in the sky.
Suddenly, a loud bang echoed. The doors had been slammed open.
Chu Yanchuan glanced up, lazily rolled over, and drew the bed curtains.
For a moment, Jing Feirong wondered if he had entered the wrong chamber. It wouldn’t be the first time. A few years ago, after too much wine, he had stumbled into his third brother’s room, only to be blasted out by a violent spell. His brother had been… occupied with someone who should not be named.
Well, nothing was a secret anymore. The one in his brother’s bed had been Yu Cang, King of the Underworld. Jing Feirong had only regretted that his eyesight hadn’t been sharp enough to tell who was on top.
Now, wine flask in hand, he gawked at the crimson-dressed, raven-haired beauty reclining on the bed. A pale hand lifted the curtain, letting moonlight spill across his face. His eyes, heavy with sleep, shimmered with an ethereal glow more breathtaking than the moonlit view Jing Feirong had enjoyed on his walk here.
Despite it being his wedding night, Jing Feirong had not only skipped the ceremony but had slipped away to drown his sorrows at Bamboo Ridge. Outraged by his son’s behavior, the Heavenly Emperor had dispatched someone to fetch him, demanding he return to his chambers and apologize.
Yet Jing Feirong had no intention of apologizing. Besides, Chu Yanchuan didn’t look displeased. On the contrary, he looked rather enticing.
Jing Feirong stood frozen for a long moment until a sudden hiccup escaped him. The sound reminded him of why he had gotten drunk in the first place, and his brows drew together.
“Why are you in my bed!” he grumbled, his voice thick and rough.
Chu Yanchuan chuckled and, with a flick of his hand, summoned a wisp of fire that lit the two red candles by the window.
“You might want to wipe your drool, Your Highness.”
His smile was like a snow-covered pear tree suddenly blooming under the moonlight. Jing Feirong, stunned by the sight, hurriedly wiped the corner of his mouth. Straightening, he barked, irritation creeping into his tone.
“I asked you a question! Why are you in my bed?”
Calm as ever, Chu Yanchuan ignored the question. “Drinking isn’t good for your health, Your Highness. You should drink less.”
Jing Feirong’s brows furrowed deeper. Was he too drunk to follow the conversation, or was Chu Yanchuan simply hard of hearing?
“I don’t know why you agreed to this marriage,” Jing Feirong said, his voice suddenly serious. “But we both know how this will go.”
“Of course,” Chu Yanchuan replied with a thoughtful nod.
So he isn’t deaf. Jing Feirong relaxed slightly. Just as he was about to suggest who should sleep outside, Chu Yanchuan leisurely sat up and began untying his sash.
The poor prince had never encountered such a sudden and heart-pounding turn of events. Before he could react, Chu Yanchuan had flung the sash aside and reached for his outer robe.
Crash! The wine flask hit the ground. In a blur, Jing Feirong darted forward and grabbed Chu Yanchuan’s wrist.
“What are you doing?!” he shouted, his face contorted with shock, the tips of his ears flushed with anger and embarrassment. Gritting his teeth, he demanded, “Why are you taking your clothes off?!”
It took Chu Yanchuan a moment to answer in a way fitting for the Fifth Prince’s level of maturity. “For you-know-what, of course.”
Jing Feirong’s expression collapsed into sheer horror.
“Perhaps Your Highness is… incapable?” Chu Yanchuan asked carefully, watching the prince’s distress. “Really?”
Only Jing Feirong’s heavy breathing filled the silence.
“Really?” Chu Yanchuan pressed, pulling his wrist free and studying him with confusion. “But aren’t dragons supposed to be… naturally lustful?”
“Hey… hic!” Furious and flustered, Jing Feirong let out another drunken hiccup. “You—you can’t just say things like that! That’s not appropriate for your age!”
But Chu Yanchuan only nodded, unoffended. With calm seriousness, he replied, “You’re right. I’m much older than you. Given that…”
The candlelight flickered.
“How about calling me ‘Grandpa’ instead, Your Highness?”
That evening, the court historian—dragged away by the guards earlier—returned to his post and resumed writing.
“On the night of his wedding, His Highness the Fifth Prince Jing Feirong suffered another emotional breakdown, unable to endure the humiliation of a forced marriage. He fled his chambers, his tears flooding the Heavenly Court. In his despair, he even coughed blood, a truly tragic sight!
“It is said he drowned himself in liquor for an entire day before returning to the palace, yet that did little to ease his anguish or help him face reality. Is this marriage a sign of moral decay, or a distortion of human nature?”
The rest, however, remained unfinished, because the Heavenly Emperor once again had the guards drag him off.

---

After coughing up blood the previous evening, Jing Feirong had fallen asleep by the lotus pond outside the chamber. When Chu Yanchuan woke him, Jing Feirong pulled his finger from his mouth and groggily lifted his head. A lotus leaf clung to his hair, his face haggard, his eyes vacant.
“I didn’t expect you to be so unpopular, Your Highness,” Chu Yanchuan remarked. “To think you had to sleep beside a pond.”
The words snapped Jing Feirong awake, his drowsiness vanishing in an instant. Even the green leaf perched on his head trembled with his frustration.
“That’s only because you stole my bed!”
“You’re right. I’ve reflected on it,” Chu Yanchuan replied with a nod. “Which is why I’ll be returning to my residence immediately. My apologies for what Your Highness endured last night.”
“You’re really leaving?” Jing Feirong’s face lit up, only to fall into a frown of confusion. “Then why agree to this marriage in the first place?”
Chu Yanchuan looked at him. Since there were things he could not yet reveal, he only said, “I’ve admired you for a long time, Your Highness.”
In truth, Chu Yanchuan had never been one to dwell on trivialities. If a white lie made things easier, he saw no harm in it, especially when it came to this Fifth Prince.
To his surprise, Jing Feirong flushed scarlet and averted his eyes. “You’ve… seen me before?” he mumbled. Otherwise, how else could you have fallen for me?
“Of course. I remember it clearly. Back then…”
“Back then?” Jing Feirong echoed, feigning nonchalance, though a quiet hope had already stirred in his chest.
“You were crying very loudly. And you peed on the Heavenly Emperor’s hand.”
Jing Feirong froze, his expression stiffening. Slowly, he reached up to pluck the lotus leaf from his head.
“Safe travels,” he said, each word bitten off with forced politeness.
Chu Yanchuan inclined his head. “I shall take my leave.”

…

_{Proofreader: Ambrose E.}

More information coming soon…