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By now, the moon had passed its zenith; it was already the latter half of the night.
When Xia Chichi first arrived at Skyrim Island and the final battle commenced, it had also been midnight. They had fought until dawn, moved here, and now it was night again. It had only been one day and one night, yet it felt as if ages had passed—a vast shift akin to oceans turning into mulberry fields.
Gods had been defeated and a figure on the Ranking of Heaven had fallen. The world was set to undergo an immense upheaval, whether on the seas or land. The power dynamics of the Wang Clan, the Grasslands, Penglai, and the Sea Tribe would all undergo changes. The mere thought of all that might transpire gave one a headache, and Zhao Changhe could not be bothered to think too deeply about it.
The most obvious change, however, was that for the first time, Xia Chichi could sit openly next to Zhao Changhe, under the moonlight, in front of one of the Four Idols Cult’s venerables.
The last time they had done anything befitting a young couple was back in Kunlun. They had merely taken a stroll, had some wontons, and bought a gourd… and that was a year ago.
Other than that, they had never really spent much time together. Whenever they met, it was because of circumstances...
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