Chapter 2: The Year of Ten Thousand Kisses

The hidden inner palace of the True Yin-Yang Sect had never known such a riot of joy.

For three hundred and sixty-five days, the floating citadel that had once echoed only with the refined moans of high-level dual cultivation now rang with something far more dangerous: the unrestrained laughter of a one-year-old child.

Li Wei, the forbidden treasure born beneath the alignment of silver and gold moons, had become the living sun around which the entire secluded world now orbited.

He was fat.

Not just baby-fat. He was gloriously, outrageously, pinch-ably fat.

His cheeks were two perfect steamed buns brushed with peach-blossom pink. His arms and legs were ringed with soft, dimpled rolls that made every elder in the palace want to cry from sheer adoration. His belly, when he sat, pooled over his tiny silk waistband like warm dough rising in the sun. And his tail, once a mere silver stub, had grown into a bottle-brush of fluff that wagged so violently when he was happy that it created its own tiny windstorms of cherry-blossom petals.

No one was immune.

Not the sternest elder who had once frozen an entire star with a glance.

Not the coldest assassin-nanny trained since birth to feel nothing.

Not even the ancient tortoises in the spirit pond, who had slept for ten thousand years, cracked open one lazy eye whenever Li Wei toddled past just to watch the chubby prince waddle by.

And the kisses.......Heavens above, the kisses.

Every single person in the inner palace had developed a ritual:

1. Spot the Little Treasure.

2. Make a high-pitched noise that would shame a phoenix.

3. Sprint (gracefully, of course; they were still immortals) toward him.

4. Scoop him up.

5. Deliver no fewer than seven kisses and three raspberries directly to the cheek zone.

6. Reluctantly put him down only when ordered by the Sect Master herself.

Li Wei, age one, had therefore received approximately forty-seven thousand, three hundred and twenty-two kisses in the last year. He had stopped counting after the first month. His adult mind had tried to remain aloof for exactly six hours on the first day. Then Bai Yuelou had walked in wearing nothing but a loose moon-silk robe, lifted him to her bare chest, and let him nurse while humming an ancient fox lullaby older than most galaxies.

He had bawled like the baby he appeared to be.

Not from hunger.

From the overwhelming realisation that someone finally, truly, wanted him, not for his face, not for his skills in bed, not for what he could give, but simply because he existed.

After that, resistance was futile. He surrendered to the chubby life.

Dawn of a Typical Day

Every morning began the same way.

The first rays of the silver moon slipped through the crystalline windows of the sleeping chamber, painting the vast circular bed in liquid starlight. The bed itself was a masterpiece: a hundred-zhang-wide circle of cloud-down and phoenix feathers, draped in layers of crimson and white silk that shifted patterns according to the dreams of those who slept upon it.

In the centre, nestled between two of the most powerful women in the Eternal Sky Realm, lay a small, round lump snoring with the force of a tiny typhoon.

Bai Yuelou slept on the left, one arm and three of her nine tails curled protectively around the lump. Her silver hair spilt across the pillows like a frozen waterfall. Huo Qinghong slept on the right, one slightly muscular arm thrown possessively over both wife and child, her crimson hair a river of fire against the white sheets. The two women were tangled together in the casual intimacy of lovers who had shared ten thousand years and saw no reason to stop now.

The lump....Li Wei slept on his back, arms flung wide, mouth open, one foot kicked out of the blankets. A thin line of drool had escaped the corner of his mouth and was currently being absorbed by Huo Qinghong’s hair. Neither mother minded.

At the exact moment the golden moon joined its silver sister in the sky, Li Wei’s eyes snapped open.

Golden irises ringed in black, bright and alert.

Another day of being the most spoiled baby in the multiverse, the twenty-five-year-old soul inside thought with a mental stretch. I could get used to this.

He rolled a complicated manoeuvre involving several layers of baby fat until he was face-down on Huo Qinghong’s chest. Then, using the dragon empress’s breasts as leverage, he climbed up until his chubby face hovered directly above hers.

“Da-da,” he announced solemnly.

Huo Qinghong’s eyes opened instantly. The fearsome dragon who could sneeze and erase a continent smiled like sunrise. “Good morning, my fierce little dragon.”

She sat up, cradling him against her with one arm while the other reached over to stroke Yuelou’s fox ear. “Wake up, lazy fox. Our son demands tribute.”

Bai Yuelou’s ear twitched. She cracked one amethyst eye. “He demands milk, you mean.”

“Same thing.”

Yuelou yawned, revealing dainty fangs, and opened her robe without ceremony. Li Wei latched on with practised efficiency, making happy little grunting noises as the sweetest spiritual milk in existence filled his mouth. It tasted like peach nectar, starlight, and unconditional love.

Huo Qinghong watched them with soft eyes, then leaned in to kiss Yuelou’s bare shoulder. “We made something perfect,” she whispered.

“We really did,” Yuelou murmured, fingers combing through Li Wei’s silver curls.

They stayed like that for nearly an hour, just the three of them, the twin moons setting outside, the palace servants under strict orders not to enter until the family bell was rung. It was their sacred time. No sect business. No cultivation. No politics. Just a mother, her wife, and their impossibly chubby baby.

Eventually, Li Wei detached with a satisfied pop and a milk-drunk smile. He burped. A tiny silver flame and a wisp of frost escaped his mouth at the same time—his dual cores harmonising even in infancy. Both mothers cooed.

Then the bell was rung, and the floodgates opened. The Morning Adoration Parade

The moment the doors slid apart, the corridor outside filled with the rustle of silk robes and barely-contained squeals.

First came Elder Mei Xing, the starlight-haired healer who had delivered him. She carried a tray of spirit fruits shaped like tiny foxes.

“Wei’er! Look what Auntie Mei made!”

Li Wei’s eyes lit up. He toddled forward on unsteady legs, arms outstretched. Elder Mei Xing dropped to her knees, abandoned centuries of dignity, and opened her arms.

He crashed into her like a small meteor.

“Up!” he demanded.

She lifted him high, spinning once. “Who’s the roundest, most kissable baby in all the realms?”

“Me!” he shrieked happily.

Seven kisses and one raspberry later, he was passed to the next elder.

This continued for forty minutes.

Every elder, every senior disciple allowed into the inner palace, every maid who had been with the sect for more than five hundred years, they all lined up for their daily Wei’er cuddle. Some brought gifts: a rattle carved from dragon bone that sang lullabies in Huo Qinghong’s own voice, a teething ring made of ten-thousand-year ice jade, a tiny crown of living cherry blossoms that would never wilt.

Li Wei accepted it all with the solemn gravity of an emperor receiving tribute, then ruined the image by giggling and demanding “Again! Again!” whenever someone tried to put him down.

By the time the parade ended, his cheeks were red from kisses, his hair was full of flower petals, and he was riding on Huo Qinghong’s shoulders like a conquering prince.

Bath Time (The Daily War Crime of Cuteness)

Bath time was a palace-wide event.

The bathing pool was a lake of liquid starlight heated by underground dragon veins. Lotuses the size of pavilions floated on its surface, releasing fragrance that could make a mortal ascend on scent alone.

Li Wei was stripped of his sleeping robe (a process that involved no fewer than five maids cooing over his belly rolls) and lowered into the water.

He squealed.

The moment his chubby toes touched the surface, the entire lake turned pink.

This was new.

Every day for the past month, his dual cores had begun reacting to stimuli in increasingly dramatic ways. Yesterday, the lake had turned gold. The day before, it had formed the shape of a heart.

Today, pink lotuses bloomed in the perfect shape of his tiny handprints wherever he splashed.

The maids lost their minds.

“Look! Look! The Little Master is blessing the waters!”

“His yin and yang are so perfectly balanced, even the heavenly lake falls in love!”

Huo Qinghong and Bai Yuelou sat on the marble edge, legs dangling in the water, watching their son splash like a baby otter.

“Remember when we thought we’d raise a proper little cultivator?” Yuelou said, resting her head on Qinghong’s shoulder.

“We lasted four days before he smiled, and we both spontaneously ascended a minor realm out of pure joy,” Qinghong replied dryly.

They watched Li Wei try to catch a floating lotus. He missed, toppled backwards, and sat down hard in the shallow water with a splash that sent a wave over three maids.

Silence.

Then the entire pool erupted in delighted laughter.

Li Wei blinked, water streaming down his face, then laughed too—a bright, bell-like sound that made the lotuses bloom faster.

He raised both chubby arms. “Mama! Daddy! Up!”

Both women slipped into the water fully clothed in their robes and waded in. Yuelou scooped him up first, blowing raspberries on his wet belly until he shrieked. Qinghong took him next, tossing him gently into the air and catching him while he howled with glee.

The maids eventually had to physically drag them out, or bath time would have lasted until evening.

Afternoon Games in the Floating Orchard

After a nap (curled between his parents like a satisfied cat), Li Wei woke, demanding, “Chase! Chase!”

The floating cherry orchard was transformed daily into a toddler paradise.

Illusionary butterflies the size of horses fluttered overhead. Spirit rabbits with cotton tails hopped in slow motion so he could catch them. Gentle wind spirits lifted him a few inches off the ground when he “jumped,” letting him experience flight without danger.

His favourite game remained chase.

Today, the entire inner palace staff was involved.

Rules were simple:

- Li Wei was “it.”

- Everyone else had to run in slow motion while making exaggerated scared noises.

- When he tagged someone (usually by falling face-first into their legs), they had to dramatically collapse and cover him in kisses.

Currently, Elder Mei Xing was “fleeing” with theatrical slowness, arms flailing.

“Nooo! The fearsome Little Treasure approaches! Whatever shall I do?”

Li Wei toddled after her, tongue sticking out in concentration, tail wagging like a banner.

“Raaaaawr!” he roared (it came out more like “Waaawr!”).

He reached her, grabbed her robe with both hands, and pulled.

Elder Mei Xing collapsed like a dying swan. “I am defeated! Mercy, great prince!”

She rolled onto her back and opened her arms.

Li Wei dove in.

What followed was a solid minute of happy shrieking as the elder delivered the mandatory tribute of kisses while he kicked his legs in delight.

From the pavilion above, Bai Yuelou and Huo Qinghong watched with identical soft smiles.

“He’s getting faster,” Yuelou observed.

“Still slow enough for us to let him win,” Qinghong replied. “For now.”

They exchanged a look, love, pride, and the tiniest flicker of worry. Their son’s growth was abnormal. Even accounting for his perfect dual cores, he was developing too quickly. His mind was sharp—far sharper than any one-year-old should be. Sometimes, they caught him staring at basic cultivation manuals with a thoughtful expression no baby should wear. But today was not for worrying. Today was for joy.

The Hide-and-Seek Championship

Hide-and-seek had evolved into a sect-wide tournament.

The palace itself participated. Corridors rearranged themselves. Doors led to pocket dimensions full of pillows. Mirrors reflected false images of giggling toddlers to throw off seekers.

Li Wei’s current hiding spot: inside Bai Yuelou’s nine tails.

He had discovered early on that if he burrowed into the mass of silver fluff, his mother’s natural concealment arts rendered him completely undetectable even to Huo Qinghong’s draconic senses.

The entire palace was “searching.”

“Wei’er! Where are youuuuu?”

“Little Treasure, come out! Auntie has candied spirit peaches!”

From within the warm, fragrant cocoon of tails, Li Wei covered his mouth to muffle his giggles. His adult mind was having the time of his life. This is better than any brothel VIP room I've ever worked.

After twenty minutes of increasingly desperate (and fake) pleas, he decided to be merciful.

He popped his head out right in front of Huo Qinghong’s face.

“Boo!”

The dragon empress actually jumped—then pretended to faint from shock.

“My heart! My son has slain me!”

She collapsed backwards into a pile of cushions, arms spread dramatically.

Li Wei pounced.

What followed was a ten-minute tickle war that left the fearsome Crimson Lotus Dragon Empress begging for mercy in the most undignified voice possible.

Bai Yuelou watched from the sidelines, tails swishing in amusement, until her wife croaked, “Help… me… beloved… he’s too powerful…”

Yuelou sauntered over, plucked her son off Qinghong’s stomach, and settled him on her hip.

“Enough tormenting, Daddy, little fox. Time for dinner.”

Li Wei lay his head on her shoulder with a happy sigh, chubby arms looping around her neck.

“Love you, Mama,” he mumbled sleepily.

Yuelou froze.

Qinghong sat up slowly.

It was the first time he had said it clearly, not in baby babble, but actual words.

Bai Yuelou’s eyes filled with tears. She pressed a trembling kiss to his temple. “Mama loves you, too, Wei’er. More than all the stars in the sky.”

Qinghong crawled over and wrapped them both in her arms. “And Daddy loves you enough to burn them all down if anyone ever hurts you.” They stayed like that until the twin moons rose again.

Evening Story Hour and the Quiet Moments

After dinner (spirit milk for Li Wei, actual food for his parents), the family moved to the Starry Sky Chamber.

The ceiling became a perfect replica of the night sky. Shooting stars streaked overhead at Li Wei’s command; he just had to point, and one would fall slowly enough for him to “catch” with his mind.

Bai Yuelou told the story tonight: the legend of the Primordial Yin-Yang Gods who created the universe through a single night of perfect union.

Li Wei listened from his favourite spot, curled on Huo Qinghong’s chest, while Yuelou leaned against them both, one hand stroking his back in slow circles.

When the story ended, the chamber fell quiet except for the soft sound of breathing.

Li Wei’s adult mind surfaced gently.

In his past life, he had never known this. Never been held just because. Never fallen asleep feeling safe.

He turned his face into Qinghong’s neck and whispered, so softly only beings of their level could hear:

“Thank you… for giving me a family.”

Huo Qinghong’s arms tightened. Yuelou’s tails wrapped around them both.

Outside, the cherry blossoms fell upward into the sky, caught in an endless dance of celebration.

Inside, a one-year-old child, the most spoiled, kissed, and cherished baby in all the Eternal Sky Realm, fell asleep smiling.

The year of ten thousand kisses was only the beginning.