The hour of the dragon.
High above the Nine Heavens, the Crimson Golden Light Screen lit up on schedule. Golden light cascaded like a waterfall as the image condensed once more.
[On the bed, Su Miao sat blankly with a mess of curly hair, her Warm Orange Little Bellyband crooked to one side. Her little mouth hung slightly open; she clearly had not fully awakened yet.
Yuanshi stood at the doorway, his gaze falling upon her.
"Hair disheveled, clothes untidy... What sort of appearance is this?"]
Taiyi Zhenren somehow produced another handful of sunflower seeds. With a crack, he opened one and spoke in an unhurried tone.
"I've heard Master say that at least eight hundred times.
Every time, it's 'What sort of appearance is this?' Not one word differs."
[Su Miao frantically tugged at her bellyband, then tried to smooth her hair, only making it messier.
"Y-Yes, sorry, Second Master... I... I didn't mean to..."
The frown between Yuanshi's brows turned into a Jade Comb.
He began combing her hair. His movements were stiff, and whenever he encountered a tangle, he paused and carefully teased it apart with his fingertips.]
Yuanshi found the version of himself in the light screen far too unfamiliar.
Yet somehow... it did not feel out of place.
He thought of the disciples under him.
Taiyi, Guang Chengzi—he had never combed anyone's hair or tucked in anyone's blankets.
Rules were rules. Masters and disciples were masters and disciples. The boundaries were clear.
Yet the boundaries around that "himself" in the light screen were utterly blurred.
His eyes narrowed slightly as curiosity stirred within him.
If he had been the one to meet her, if he had been trusted wholeheartedly by a pair of eyes like that, what would it have felt like?
Yuanshi was not