Past—

Lei Hua kneeled above the smoking ash of the once grand palace of Pondlightian with numbness coating his bones. There was nothing left, not even a single pillar. If it weren't for the tightness in his throat and the watering of his eyes, there would be no evidence of his misdeed. And yes, he knew he had committed a sin even though he did not regret it in the least. The people he killed deserved it, he felt that in his soul. However, the guilt of shedding human blood when the principles of cultivation went against it was a heavy weight on his shoulders. It stung like a double-edged sword, cutting him no matter which way he twisted.

Only pain filtered through his blank consciousness. He wasn't sure how many days had passed with him kneeling there. He had not eaten, barely moved to relieve himself, and slept in this kneeling position when his body demanded it. No one could convince the cultivator to leave. Not his brother, not his father—not even his mother who traveled the long distance to see her grieving son. Because that's what this was, grief. Lei Hua was sure of that, but it was something else, too.

An emptiness that threatened to pull him under. He hadn't realized until Qian Meng was gone, but the man had wholly consumed him. Pushed aside things he once cherished in order to make more room. And now… Lei Hua couldn't breathe without feeling the loss of his Zhiyin so fiercely it felt like his soul was tearing apart. As if all he wanted was to leave this body and follow his heart into the beyond. The cultivator knew he couldn't do that, though. He had tried to walk up river enough for one lifetime, and taking his own life would be yet another sin.

Lei Hua's blank stare shifted to the mound of freshly dug dirt beneath the swaying willow tree, heart shuddering. He had nothing to bury, for Qian Meng's body was gone, so he had relinquished his sword. The cultivator knew he was no longer worthy of a sacred blade after he broke the laws of his people and his own heart. And he could think of no better place to lay it to rest than where his Zhiyin spent his most treasured time looking down upon the vast capital city below.

"Your reputation precedes you, young cultivator," someone said. "However, today, you are a sad spectacle."

The voice was both loud beyond reason and low to a fault. Gravelly, yet commanding. It forced the cultivator to glance up, locking eyes with a tall, glorious man standing beside him. The magic around him was white, writhing, and leaked out into the world as if it were too potent to be kept within. He had an ethereal beauty. Chestnut hair pulled back in an elaborate style, bright jade eyes dancing with mirth and a mouth that always sat at an upward tilt. A gem between his brows the same color as his magic pulsed in time with what Lei Hua assumed to be his heartbeat.

Without asking, the cultivator was aware this man was a Celestial Being. His aura was domineering and felt like a heavy hand pushing him to the ground to kneel. He allowed his body to respond in the way it demanded as he pressed his forehead to the dirt. When he sat back up, eyeing the God warily, he dared speak.

"I was unaware I had a reputation."

The God raised a brow. "When a cultivator single-handedly annihilates an entire royal family and changes the course of the Divine by doing so, it is hard not to notice."

Lei Hua flinched, dropping his gaze to the man's ivory, lotus embroidered robes. Had he come here to punish him? Such was the only plausible explanation for a powerful God to have deigned to show himself to a mere mortal. The cultivator kept silent, pressing his lips together and closing his eyes tightly. If he were to be killed for his misdeed, he found that there would be no hardship. Then he would be beside his fated one, and all would be well again.

"Rise, young cultivator. I will not be punishing you. I've come here to grant you a gift."

Lei Hua did as he was told, but slowly. He kept his gaze on the grass, not daring to stand too close to the man. "I say this with no disrespect, My Lord, but I do not deserve a gift."

Much to the cultivator's surprise, he felt two cool fingers press beneath his chin, forcing his face up. And while the God was taller than him, his emerald gaze was a beacon that drew Lei Hua in. Without thinking, he wavered forward a step, bringing the two within a Cún of each other. The God didn't balk, nor did he move to push the cultivator away. Instead, he smiled, and the sight of it filled Lei Hua with a startling amount of warmth.

He hadn't realized how cold he'd become.

"Tell me… What is the meaning of deserving?"

Lei Hua blinked. In his heart, the ache he'd left behind days ago for numbness surfaced all over again. He had to swallow twice before he could speak, voice hoarse.

"To be worthy of your station, of your power—for it comes at a price if you are not."

The God tilted his head. "And how are you not worthy?"

Lei Hua glowered, thoughts darkening. He'd been ignorant to hope Qian Wei was anything but a monster. Or that Qian Zihao contained a single ounce of sympathy for his twin—only for the crown prince to kill him. They were horrible men with poisoned minds wracked by grief and anger. Not one part of him held regret over slaying the king and court.

No, a distant part of himself snapped.

He had not followed his teachings in doing this. That was why he'd buried his sword and kneeled in the dirt without a single comfort for weeks on end. Cultivators flowed parallel with the world and guided citizens to safety should they need it. By using his power against Conventionals, he'd altered the course of the Divine—

Lei Hua's eyes snapped open, blazing a fiery crimson, full of blind rage at his own thoughts. He couldn't convince himself to agree. At his very core, he knew it was wrong to make allowances for devils—in any form. Evil men deserved an evil end just as much as blood-thirsty demons did. If not, where was justice? Where was truth and honor?

He should have killed the bastards sooner.

The dark thought shot across his consciousness like lightning, forcing a shudder of revulsion toward himself down Lei Hua's spine. Ideas like that, even if always kept within his own mind, were the very reason he was not worthy of his golden core. As a cultivator, one ought to be benevolent and ill-mannered. Factual and self-regulating. They knew the differences between right and wrong. Had a keen sense of when to step in or remain obtuse.

Lei Hua was not good at any of those things.

He preferred human connection and emotion—experience over merit. These past months' training alongside his Zhiyin, and then the one time they'd hunted together… He didn't know if he'd ever been so happy in all his life. Lei Hua pictured Qian Meng's smiling face, aching for the fragile genuine joy it displayed.

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, snapping him out of his reverie. "You were righteous in your decision."

He looked up, startled. One tear slid down his cheek. "What?"

"I, Divine Emperor of the Heavens, believe your decision to have been principled. My gift to you is your celestial title, Lei Gong."

Lei Hua opened and closed his mouth several times, blinking in shock. The Divine Emperor only continued to stare at him seriously, lips pressed into a firm line, no trace of mirthful humor left.

"I am Lei Gong," he murmured.

He didn't mean it to be a question, but the God answered regardless. "Yes. Committing acts of retribution in fear of terrible events occurring is heinous, extracting justice on those who must pay the heavy price is ethical."

Ley Hua pressed a hand to his chest to stave off the relief he knew he didn't deserve. Nevertheless, he bowed low to the Divine Emperor, not daring to argue.

"Thank you, My Lord."

"You have lost your cultivation partner to this, yes?"

Lei Hua flinched back as if struck, gaze shuttering. He said nothing as his breathing elevated. He did… lose him. Forever. Lei Hua clenched his fists so tightly that he drew blood from his palms. Good god, it hurt… He wasn't sure he had the inner strength to spend the rest of his life feeling this numb. The Divine Emperor sent him a look of pity, but the cultivator couldn't bring himself to give a damn what anyone else thought of his grief.

"Please," he pleaded softly, more tears falling.

He didn't know what he was begging for. Did he want the God to leave? To stop speaking? To kill him and put him out of his misery?

"I lost my cultivation partner long ago."

Lei Hua stilled but didn't open his eyes.

"He was an arrogant man. One who held the same cultivation base as I, but did not care to grow his cultivation as diligently. He preferred excitement when he deemed it fit and reading endless piles of books beneath a willow tree near the courtyard I trained in when he did not."

The cultivator heard shuffling, so he turned his gaze just in time to see the Divine Emperor take a seat beneath the willow, legs folded in a lotus pose. He had his eyes closed, thick lashes fluttering across his alabaster skin.

"But he was brilliant, steadfast, and honest to a fault. He did not like frivolity, but he would endure it if it came from me. We were young, only thirty-two, but we were powerful. We thought we stood a chance at the Siege of the Blood River—that they would pose no threat to us," he chuckled, lips twisting. "We were so arrogant."

Lei Hua's throat dried up. The Divine Emperor was referencing the Great Calamity of Rasheia—the opening of the Demonic Realm. It was the first time cultivators fought against demons to save the Conventionals from extinction. To think that this man had been there, was old enough to recall it, was as awe-inspiring as it was terrifying.

"And then?" Lei Hua asked.

The God shrugged as if it'd been so many eons that he was too numb to feel sadness. "The cultivators won the battle, but at a significant cost. My husband's life was lost along with many others, and because his qi was stolen and his golden core ripped out, I could not summon his soul nor put it to rest."

Lei Hua lowered himself to sit beside him. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you and I'm sorry are frivolous words. I have no need for them. What I wanted to relay is our similarities. The Divine often gifts us with things that will only serve to test our courage and capability. Happiness is fleeting, and it is because of that we are strong."

The cultivator looked to the lowering sun, watching as it blanketed the quiet city at the bottom of the hill. "Are you saying that loving and losing my Zhiyin was nothing more than a Heavenly Tribulation?"

That thought made Lei Hua's stomach swirl terribly, twisting in on itself. If that was how he gained access to the Heavens, he would rather descend to Hell.

"There is no way to know," the Divine Emperor said, rising to his feet and brushing the dust from his robes. "Just remember that power is dangerous, and welding is not a right, but a gift. Goodbye, Lei Gong."

Not realizing the man meant to leave, Lei Hua was too late when he scrambled to stand, shouting, "wait a moment, please!"

The man disappeared from one blink to the next in a shower of gold magic, leaving him to stand beneath the swaying willow tree—forever alone.