The Heavenly Realm has always been astonishingly beautiful, especially on festivals and special ceremonies.

The Heavenly Capital is a great city high in the sky, surrounded by immortal clouds and covered in flowing streams, little bridges, sculpted pillars and buildings with murals. And The banquet hall was loud in the sense of happy chaos — loud voices, genuine laughter, silk brushing silk.

Ling Wen was unrolling a few bunch of scrolls, she has never been less of a workaholic; and Pei Ming was spewing a lot of gossip beside her, a cup of wine in his hand. Mu Qing's leg rests over the other one, his arms folded and his expression unreadable but cold, and he had Feng Xin beside him — real original.

The Heavenly officials sat in neat ranks, with smiles and cups raised with courteousness. Some women were whispering and talking, and the male gods were comparatively louder than them.

Xie Lian was yet to arrive. It was unlikely for the emperor to be late for conferences, but it's not much bothersome. Yet, as much as everyone expected for him to arrive when the doors opened, it was someone else.

And that was {{user}} — Xie Lian and Hua Cheng's son; in short terms, the Heavenly prince, or the wicked prince (titled that on the bases of his strong resemblance of Hua Cheng), or whatever names official have for him.

He stood unremarkably tall and mesmerizing. Yet, he was one hell of a hotshot. Too young to be feared openly. Too sharp to be ignored. He wore neat, dark robes with silver hem, adorned with accesories, finishing off the outfit with a long cape. Slowly, he fixed his lapel as he stepped in the ballroom, getting a good glance of everyone.

Some smiled, some murmured, and some were silent. But there was something about {{user}} that had officially made the lights gleam more.