As she held Harun's hands, words couldn't describe Jiyan's happiness. Since she could walk and understand men's talks, she had to endure the countless voices cursing her father's name. Chief among them was the imperial clan who, confined in the Divine Palace by Agiri's laws, could no longer run amok in the outside word.
"After the Golden Crow Ancestor went into seclusion 200,000 years ago, the Divine Army grew idle. Believing that my father wouldn't care for it, many of the noble and Hegemonic clans returned to their past habits. Abusing men, snatching their women, forcing the citizens to pay them tributes, and setting up their own regimes in their domains while paying lip service to my father.
They corrupted the petition system that allowed commoners to vent their grievances, making it seem like life in the 33 Heavens couldn't be better. It wasn't until my father disguised himself as a low-ranking celestial to explore the world that he realized the truth.
Enraged, my father killed many of the culprits. And with an unstable state of mind, crossed his eighth tribulation, resulting in his Divine Consciousness getting damaged. Still, despite the so-called madness, he forgot none of his aspirations, and imposed a set of Divine Laws aimed at suppressing the abuse of the top-ranking divine clans. But...even the citizens only saw the bad, ignoring all those seemingly irrational laws protected them from." Trembling from a blend of rage and helplessness, Jiyan shed bitter tears. In that instant, she wanted to find and tell her father that at least one person saw the intent of his moves. That he didn't ruin his immortality for a bunch of blind and deaf ingrates.
But Agiri was gone—destroyed in body and soul. For people like him, even reincarnation became a luxury. Besides the memories she held on, nothing of him remained.
"Harun...thank you. I...didn't misjudge you." With nothing else to say, Jiyan could only thank Harun for giving her late father that bit of praise, and lowered her face to hide the tears trickling down. However, Harun stretched out his hand and lifted Jiyan's chin—forcing her to maintain eye contact.
"You're welcome. If anything, I should be the one thanking you. So with me here, please don't say things like 'I'm sorry,' or 'thank you.' That'd just make me feel awkward," Harun began, took a cup, and filled it with celestial wine. He then dumped the liquor on the ground—a ritual offering for the dead—and poured another one, this time for Jiyan.
"Compared to the divine palace, this pagoda may not be that large. But if you need a place to mourn, you can use it as you please. No one wants to be the guy whose funerals bring no tears. So while I believe your father would want you to forget the pain as soon as possible, and carry on with your life, I'm sure he wouldn't blame you...for shedding a few tears in his memory," Harun said while extending the wine cup toward Jiyan.
It had just been over a week since Agiri died. But from the moment the news spread, none were allowed to mourn him properly. Even Jiyan had that privilege robbed from her.
For a second, she stared into Harun's eyes, and a myriad of gentle emotions fluctuated within. Jiyan's lips curled into a smile, a radiant smile that contrasted with the tears still tracing her cheeks—making them look like tears of joy instead. Now she couldn't help but think that, somewhere in this world, her father still watched over her. Otherwise, how could she meet Harun so soon after his death?
Without hesitation, Jiyan took the cup from Harun's hands—emptying it in one gulp.
"Then starting now, and until your battle starts, every night I will drink till I pass out in your house. Any complaints?" Jiyan asked in a bold and uncompromising tone.
"My old man used to say that once you find a gal willing to pass out drunk in your house, you can stop looking for a wife. So, as a single and filial son, I won't be the one stopping you. Just...don't blame me if my hands wander a bit and something happens during the night," Harun let out a breathy, gleeful laugh, and moved his hands in threatening gestures.
Rolling her eyes, Jiyan refilled their cups, and while Harun took down his, said: "That's also fine. I will just have to marry you. Saves me the trouble of sending all the arrogant young lords flying."
*Cough* *Cough*
Unprepared for such a straightforward answer, Harun broke into a coughing fit, almost choking on his wine, "How shameless. I discover a new aspect of you every day. Makes me wonder how innocent you really are," Harun said, and an exchange of good-natured banter followed till Jiyan passed out drunk on his lap.
Now the only sober soul, Harun dropped the jug, wrapped Jiyan in a warm quilt, and with one hand stroking her silky white hair, closed his eyes. A thin golden chain flew from Harun's heart, bidding itself to Jiyan's.
"What are you doing?" The system's voice echoed in Harun's mind.
"Linking her life to my Incarnation Seed. I've been taking too much advantage of her. Should at least give her something in return. Even after I leave the 33 Heavens, my Incarnation Seed can shelter her from harm," Harun replied, and surprisingly, the System burst into laughter.
"You also know that you've been taking advantage of the lass? How despicable. With the age gap between the two of you, don't you feel the least bit ashamed? What a good son," the system chortled, making Harun unable to see if it was cursing or praising him.
"She can't be that much older, right?"
"She? Hahahaha! I think it's time you start using the stat screen. I will do the technical part for you. Look at her again," the system said and, perplexed, Harun lowered his eyes on Jiyan.
[Name: Jiyan of the Empyrean Clan]
[Attributes: Senses (10), Physique (10), Luck (9), Dao Attunement (10), Willpower (10), Charisma (8)]
[Destiny: Undecided]
[Age: 17]
[Cultivatio—]
"Wait, age, what the fuck?" Harun's eyes almost popped out of their sockets, refusing to believe the data he saw beside the sleeping Jiyan. However, the data refused the change, and the system's laughs validated them.
"You're almost ten times older than she is. Fucking pedofile, good job!" Harun could imagine the system raising a thumbs up toward him. His heart spiraled out of control, and he spurted blood—well, almost.
...
On the next morning, Jiyan awoke to the sight of Harun, unconscious but clutching at his chest as if experiencing an unending nightmare. Confused, she poured some Heavenly Qi into his body, fed him a Mind-Cleansing Pill, and after making sure that his condition had stabilized, stood up and left.
But if on the road, Jiyan kept her contented smile, once she returned to the Divine Palace, and saw a gathering of high-ranking elders at her door, her smile vanished.