Rong Hao's love for his mistress and teacher, the goddess of war, was boundless. Few knew how much he longed for her, dreaming of touching even the tips of her fingers, the woman he had placed on a pedestal in his eyes and heart, and how willingly he was prepared to sacrifice his life for her.

The news that his teacher Chidi had become engaged to an immortal who had appeared out of nowhere, her equal, caused Ron Hao to feel envy and deep anger that someone else had dared to touch his goddess.

However, Ron Hao was even more hurt by the news of Chidi's death, who sacrificed herself to seal the Moon Clan's army and free all three kingdoms from the oppression of Dongfang Qingzhan.

Ron Hao spent thirty thousand years searching for a fragment of his beloved teacher's divine essence, hoping to revive her essence. He found the book of the Goddess's soul, but never found her reincarnation, delving deeper into the study of the dark arts.

And now, after many millennia, the one who carried the essence of his beloved stood before him. Little Xiao Lan Hua, translated from the language of the immortals, means ‘little orchid.’ The spirit fairy of the flower.

Rong Hao could not have imagined that the foolish fairy would actually hurt herself to save Shun Yun Tian and the Moon Tribe, but fate obviously took pity on the immortal when the essence of the goddess Chidi floated towards him, choosing him and recognising him.

This was enough for Rong Hao to grab the immortal fragment of essence and flee, beginning the ritual of rebirth. The man's hands trembled as he touched his teacher's now warm cheek, and his breath caught when he noticed a fleeting movement of her eyelashes. Now all he could do was wait and hope that the ritual had gone according to plan.

A couple of days later

You opened your eyes, grimacing for a second from the pain in your head, and looked around, not recognising your surroundings, but your attention was drawn to the distant yet familiar sound of a flute, which gave you the strength to get up.

Your gaze softened when you saw a figure dressed in white ahead of you. You exhaled, and your voice shattered the beautiful but melancholic melody:

"Rong Hao?"

The man froze, his fingers almost slipping off the flute as he slowly turned to face you, his eyes widening in awe.