Chapter 12: Clumsiness: Level Divine

The Frost Palace stood like a buried titan, carved into the spine of a mountain draped in endless winter. Its spires pierced the sky like jagged icicles, and a low mist forever curled at its base, too afraid to rise any higher. The towering gates creaked open with a groan that echoed like a memory, allowing Aoshen to step into the frozen cathedral he once ruled.

Only a handful of attendants remained.

Their eyes were sunken, expressions hollow, wrapped in robes too thin for their shivering frames. The moment his foot touched the icy crystal floor, a tremor ran through the palace—a heartbeat returned. They felt it. The pressure, the aura, the unmistakable cold that declared, The King has returned.

"My Lord!" one cried, dropping to her knees, followed swiftly by the others.

They bowed low, their foreheads touching frostbitten tiles.

Aoshen smirked, his gaze sweeping across their bent forms. Of course. The Heavenly King would never miss a chance to strip a god of his court. Seal the god, steal his legacy. Typical.

But those who remained...

He stepped forward, the cold blooming behind him in delicate fractals. "You no longer have to suffer. Not while I still draw breath."

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Zixuan paced like a trapped fox, her steps leaving shallow dents in the damp earth. Her eyes were wild, mouth muttering half-finished thoughts.

"Zixuan." Shou sat cross-legged on the ground, hands pressed to the soil, brows furrowed. "Stop pacing. I’m trying to focus."

"My legs keep moving on their own," she hissed. "Maybe because I unleashed a walking disaster."

Shou sighed. He rolled his wrists, fingers weaving through the air as golden light shimmered faintly from his palms. The sigils he drew were soft and harmless—a basic binding charm, no more dangerous than a child’s knot.

"给我停下来... Gěiwǎn tĭng xiàlái. (Hold still.)"

Golden ribbons of light wrapped around her ankles, rooting her to the soil like a tree.

Zixuan glared down at the spell. "Oh, come on."

"Your pacing shakes my qi," he grumbled.

He closed his eyes again, breathing deeply, and listened.

Faint voices. Murmurs. Frustration.

"They’re talking about a feast... and... they’re not happy the seal broke," he whispered.

But then—

One of the voices in the palace turned.

What is that... a trace of lesser magic?

Shou gasped, jerking back as Zixuan slapped his shoulder hard.

"OW—!"

"They sensed you!" she whispered fiercely.

"They could sense my magic..."

"Don’t feel bad," she said, releasing the spell from her feet. "You’re still cultivating. They’re immortal and bored. It’s their whole job to sniff out newbies. Luckily, they didn’t catch you."

"Thank you."

"So? What’d you hear?"

Shou turned to her, dead serious. "You, my friend, are in serious trouble. If they find out it was you... roasted chicken. They’ll serve you with plum sauce."

Her jaw dropped. "You’re so dramatic."

Shoulders sagged, she entered her room like a soul weighed down by sorrow and he followed behind her.

Outside, the elders' voices carried. Faces like thunderclouds. Sharp eyes sweeping the horizon.

The doors creaked open. Elders stepped inside. All paused to glare at Zixuan before Elder Shu cleared his throat.

"We will inspect the Celestial Bridge. Any disturbance must be verified."

Zixuan muttered under her breath, "What’s the point? You’re all ancient, and I can barely light grass on fire. If demons show up, my plan is run."

They all glared.

Shou muffled a chuckle, then winked at her.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

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The group—Shu, Shou, Ling, and Zixuan—set off. When they reached the Celestial Bridge, tension eased. Stars glowed above.

Shou and Zixuan started goofing around.

"I swear, the Six Realms are collapsing under your laughter. You sound like a cow," Ling deadpanned.

Zixuan snorted. "Moo."

She stretched her arms. "This is boring. I need a break."

"Don’t wander," Shu warned.

She skipped off anyway, humming some forgotten tune, twirling in her steps.

Until—

Crash!

She slammed into a servant carrying a jade cup, a golden sword, and a ceremonial belt.

"AIEEEEEE!" the attendant screamed like a banshee.

The items hit the floor.

Shatter.

Zixuan stared at the remains. "I'm doomed."

"我完蛋了... Wǎn wāndàn le. (I’m so screwed.)"

The attendant glared at her, then grabbed her wrist.

"You're coming with me!"

The attendant yanked Zixuan forward by the wrist, tugging her through an enormous set of silver doors that shimmered like water.

Inside, the Heavenly Hall opened like a dream — or a nightmare, depending on who you were.

Pillars of crystal reached for the sky, etched with runes that pulsed faintly, like the breath of something ancient. The floor beneath her feet gleamed, a seamless mirror that reflected the heavens above — stars, clouds, and shifting constellations. In the far distance, the grand throne loomed. Black and gold. Layered with divine fabric. Shaped like a crown of fire.

And seated upon it was the Heavenly King.

Tall. Broad. Carved from power. He wore a robe of stars and dusk, one leg casually draped over the other. His chin rested on his fist, expression unreadable, like a storm waiting for a reason.

Zixuan blinked in awe, her lips parting slightly. Damn… I didn’t think heaven would actually look heavenly.

The attendant bowed — then immediately began stammering.

“M-My Lord… th-this girl… she… broke Lord Aoshen’s ceremonial items. Shattered the golden sword. The jade cup. The ceremonial belt

Zixuan squinted, still admiring the glowing runes above her. Was that constellation actually moving? Wait, is that a tiger—

“YOU!”

The King’s voice cracked like thunder.

She jolted as if struck.

“Oh. Me?” She blinked, then gave a sheepish smile. “Uh… greetings?”

He rose slightly from his throne, eyes sharp. “You vandalized the belongings of a celestial noble and think to smile before me?”

“N-no! I mean yes. But no— I didn’t mean to—”

He cut her off with a wave, voice cold. “Then you’ll face the owner himself.”

Zixuan blinked. “The what now?”

The King turned slightly, gesturing lazily to a figure seated just below the throne — not far from where she stood. On a smaller platform, like a general or favored adviser.

She hadn’t seen him at all. How?

His robes were deep indigo, threaded with silver. He sat like ice incarnate — composed, distant, still.

Zixuan’s stomach dropped.

“是你?!!”

(Shì nǐ?!!)

You?!!” she squeaked, half choking.

Aoshen didn’t move. Didn’t blink. But his eyes finally flicked to her — silver and emotionless.

She’s dead. She's so dead.

The Heavenly King frowned, turning to her. “You know him?”

She immediately threw on the fakest smile ever recorded in divine history.

“Who? Him? Nah. Never seen him before. Ever. Nope.”

He narrowed his eyes, unconvinced but unbothered. “Your age?”

She straightened her back like a proud idiot. “A century.”

“Hm.” He nodded. “Then I’ll leave you both to it.”

Her jaw dropped.

“L-leave us?! As in—”

She turned to Aoshen, whose eyes hadn’t left her.

He’ll kill me in an instant. He’s going to snap my bones like twigs and use them as tea stirrers—

She turned back to him with a forced smile.

"Oh. Uh... hey there. Fancy seeing you here. Heh."

Without a word, he stood.

And placed his hands around her neck.

Zixuan’s awkward smile froze on her face the moment his hands brushed her neck.

They weren’t tight.

Not yet.

But they were there—cold, steady, almost gentle. Almost.

Her breath hitched.

The Heavenly King descended the steps with zero remorse and a flick of his sleeve. “I’ll leave the two of you to… work it out.”

WORK IT OUT?!?!

Zixuan internally shrieked as the king vanished behind a curtain of light. A curtain of light, like this was some opera and she was the comedy act that had just been thrown to the wolves.

Aoshen didn’t speak. Didn’t blink. Just stared at her like a bug that made noise. His fingers slid slightly, pressing in—not choking, just… reminding her that her neck was his battlefield now.

Zixuan forced a dry laugh. “So, um… how’s the weather in the Northern Heavens these days?”

Aoshen’s silver brows twitched. Barely.

“Oh. Right. Cold. My bad.”

His fingers clamped around her neck like iron, lifting her off the floor — eyes dark, jaw clenched. There was no hesitation in his grip. Just cold, quiet danger.

She clawed at his wrists, legs kicking weakly as a choked gasp tore from her throat — a strangled, desperate sound

"Do you even know what you broke?” Aoshen’s voice was like cracking stone — sharp, full of warning… and devastatingly beautiful.

It echoed through the room with such deep, rich timbre that Kaelin blinked, stunned.

A soft “Wow,” escaped her before she could stop it. Then, quieter — almost to herself — “So beautiful…”

She immediately winced. Did I say that out loud?

Aoshen’s eyes narrowed.

Zixuan flinched as he narrowed his eyes — her earlier awe vanished, swallowed by panic.

Zixuan, idiot to the last breath, squeaked, “Nice hair. I wish mine was silver too.”

His grip tightened.

She shrieked, legs kicking as she tried to pry his fingers off. “Okay okay okay—I’ll fix it!!”

No response. He squeezed harder. Her gasps turned wheezy and desperate, her eyes bulging.

“What else do you even want me to say? I’ll fix it!!” she rasped, voice barely there.

Finally, finally, he released her with a shove. She dropped to her knees, coughing and grabbing her neck, glaring up at him with tears and pure offense in her eyes.

“Are you crazy?!” she croaked. “Violence is not allowed here!”

Aoshen’s eyes burned as he leaned in just enough for his voice to slice right through her pride.

“Don’t make me come find you before you fix it.”

And then he vanished. Just like that. Puff of smoke. Gone.

She stared at the empty air for a second, mouth half-open. “Who does he think he is anyway?” she scoffed, massaging her neck.

Then she scrambled to her feet and ran out of the hall, head whipping around. “Shou? Elders? Anybody?!” she shouted, frantically darting through the corridor. “I’m not dying here because of some frosty-haired psycho!”