Grandpa Vremya furrowed his brow. The pink lantern in the room was distracting him from his cultivation. He stood up and went to the corner of the room where the lantern was resting on a small table. It was difficult for anything to interrupt his concentration, so for this little lantern to draw his attention was quite a feat. Was it a rare treasure?

Grandpa Vremya picked up the lantern and frowned as he inspected it. It wasn’t obvious from where he was seated previously, but the glass surrounding the lantern wasn’t tinted pink. The fire itself had a pink hue. When he inhaled the scent the lantern was giving off, it didn’t smell like anything; rather, it heated up his body instead. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve assumed it was poison, but who would be stupid enough to poison him? He was an elder of the Moon Lotus Sect, and he was also a distinguished guest inside the palace.

Grandpa Vremya shook his head and extinguished the fire. He went back to his cushion and sat down, closing his eyes to cultivate. A minute after he had entered introspection, there was a burning feeling in his chest. His brow furrowed, and he opened his eyes. Was there really poison within the lantern? He didn’t have any special skills pertaining to curing poison; in fact, all his techniques were related to gravity and black holes. However, what he couldn’t solve through his own ability, he could solve through money. He took a ring out of his interspacial necklace and wore it on his thumb. If he was poisoned, the ring would turn green. After seeing the results, he realized he was correct; no one was stupid enough to poison him. The ring was still a healthy silver color. Then what was the issue?

There was a knocking sound, and Grandpa Vremya raised his head towards the door. Azalea’s voice came through. “May I come in?”

“Enter,” Grandpa Vremya said. “There’s an issue with—”

Azalea frowned. After she opened the door, Grandpa Vremya froze mid-speech. “An issue with what?” she asked and looked around. The blown-out lantern in the corner of the room caught her eye, and her expression darkened. Although she had berated her brother, it was too late to do anything about the lantern. When he told her about it, all he said was he had to refill the oil inside. Obviously, it must’ve been burning all day, the scent filling the room. “Are you okay?”

Grandpa Vremya cleared his throat and turned his head to the side. Azalea was wearing the spirit-river outfit that he had obtained at some point in time he wasn’t going to admit. “The outfit suits you really well.” He didn’t think Azalea would look the way she did just because of a simple outfit. There was blue makeup around her eyes, a blue waterdrop-shaped mark on her forehead. Her clothes looked wet and translucent, but in actuality, it didn’t show anything at all. More importantly, the clothes were like water, sticking to and flowing from Azalea’s body. When she moved her arms or legs, ripples would travel up and down her robes as if a puddle had been dropped in a pond.

“Does it?” Azalea asked, raising an eyebrow. She had never seen Grandpa Vremya turn his head away like this. Usually, he was so confident in everything; whenever it came to maintaining eye contact, she always had to look away first. A smirk appeared on Azalea’s face, and she slowly stepped towards Grandpa Vremya, making sure to sway her hips from side to side, letting the robes cascade against her legs like rushing rapids. “What’s the matter?” she asked, trying to walk into Grandpa Vremya’s line of sight.

In response to Azalea’s movements, Grandpa Vremya rotated his body along with his cushion. “There’s something wrong with the lantern. It wasn’t poisonous, but there’s some distracting feature inside of it.”

Upon hearing Grandpa Vremya’s words, Azalea stopped trying to walk into his view. She sighed and went to the corner of the room, picking up the lantern. She opened the bottom compartment, and as expected, the oil was pink. She leaned close and took a quick sniff with her nose. Her expression blackened, and she slammed the compartment shut. Her mother really had ordered for an aphrodisiac to be burnt in Grandpa Vremya’s room! If Grandpa Vremya found out, would he be angry? She wasn’t sure. In the whole time she had known Grandpa Vremya, she had never seen him get angry before. Well, if he was really curious, he’d figure out what was inside the lantern eventually. It as better to admit her family’s mistakes now. “The oil burning was an aphrodisiac,” Azalea said, her face turning red. She lowered the lantern, placing it back on the table. “I recently learned my parents use it to spice up their … time together.”

An aphrodisiac? Grandpa Vremya scratched his head. As a god, how could he be unfamiliar with such a term? However, despite knowing what it was, he was still unfamiliar with it in the sense he had never used or seen one himself before. Gods didn’t have an urge to reproduce. In fact, for more gods to be born, a god had to die and have their power split into multiple parts. As a god who was born in the form of the river of time, he had even less of a need to reproduce. “I see. It was burning in this room because…?”

Azalea took in a deep breath. “My mom had this idea of … setting us up together.” She pursed her lips and examined Grandpa Vremya’s expression; however, his face didn’t betray any hint of emotion. “Would you—”

The door swung open. “I brought you the video recording,” a male voice said. Azalea’s brother walked into the room. Upon seeing Azalea standing in front of Grandpa Vremya with a red face, he simply nodded at her and continued walking towards Grandpa Vremya anyway. He placed the recording slip into Grandpa Vremya’s hands. “With that, our deal is completed.” He patted his sister on the shoulder as he turned to leave. “You should really lock the door before you do things like this. What if it was Mom or Dad who walked into this room instead of me?”

“You should learn how to knock!” Azalea said, kicking her brother’s butt as he left the room. Unfortunately for her, he was a nascent-soul cultivator, and there was no way her kick could even touch his clothes. Her face was even redder than before, and she nodded at Grandpa Vremya before turning to leave. After having the atmosphere ruined like that, how could she possibly continue with what she was about to say?

Grandpa Vremya cleared his throat. “Wait,” he said, causing Azalea to stop but not turn around. “I am currently under the assumption cultivators only reproduce and have offspring when they can no longer advance in strength. Since that’s the case, you should tell your parents you’ll worry about those things after becoming immortal.”

Azalea’s expression darkened. Was this Grandpa Vremya’s way of rejecting her? Even though she hadn’t asked the question, he still gave her an answer. Becoming an immortal? When was the last time a cultivator successfully transcended the soul-seed stage? Azalea turned around and glared at Grandpa Vremya. “Do you really think I can become an immortal?”

“Of course,” Grandpa Vremya said, raising an eyebrow. “I’m here, aren’t I? Haven’t you heard the saying when a man’s hunt is successful, his dogs will feast that night?”

“That’s not a saying.”

Grandpa Vremya stroked his chin. So, it really wasn’t a saying. That old lady who had taken care of him when he was still a baby had lied to him. He knew it. “You should still understand what I mean.”

Azalea nodded. She was about to say something else, but Grandpa Vremya closed his eyes in cultivation. Azalea’s head tilted to the side. …Was she rejected or not? She wasn’t quite sure, but she wasn’t going to ask; asking would make things final, and she was a bit afraid of that. Either way, in the future, when her brother was the emperor, she’d convince him to ban all outfits pertaining to river spirits. The effect they had on Grandpa Vremya was way too strong.