Fucheng's old street, quiet and serene.

The artificial drizzle pattered down, with reflections of a flamboyant pink tree crown mirrored in the puddles.

Burdened with a task, Miss Di Zhuomala held a bone umbrella and yawned in boredom, unable to visit the big dragon.

As today's weather ritualist, she felt somewhat bored; in fact, she never considered this job meaningful from the start.

Fucheng, blessed by the Holy Tree, always maintained eternal spring, with underground water sources never drying up.

Thus, in her view, rain was entirely unnecessary.

But whenever Di Zhuomala asked, Granny always dismissed her with phrases like 'Rain is interesting, understanding the seasons helps comprehend the human world.'

And she urged Di Zhuomala to continue this dull temporary role called weather ritual.

About this tedious work, besides rain, phenomena like snow, thunder, hurricanes, shark tornadoes, and other bizarre weather were also part of their weather ritual duties.

Every few days, those elderly men and women would have a small meeting to decide which street received rain or snow, planning the month's weather forecast for Fucheng.

Occasionally, when the mood struck, they'd create a firestorm to play with flames.

"Sigh~"

With a sigh, Lao Di thought about how boring those great figures really were. If only everyone were like Xiangxiang.

In Lao Di's view, Xiangxiang's existence might be peculiar, yet among the Eastern people she knew, Xiangxiang was the most normal.

Intelligent, rational, always planning and prepared, never behaving erratically.

Moreover, Lao Di heard that Xiangxiang was actually the White Emperor, who governed the Demon Race for countless years.

Logically, such a figure should be like stagnant water, but Lao Di sensed an ever-burning passion within Xiangxiang.

"Sigh~ truly perfect~"

However, thinking about Xiangxiang, maybe it was an inspiration or a blessing; Lao Di suddenly understood the significance of rain.

Fucheng was overly perfect under the Holy Tree's protection, eternally unchanging, and such a life easily led to losing interest in living.

"I see... Speaking of which, if I don't become the Main Priest of the Holy Tree in the future...

Should I explore the world outside, visit the Northern Territory?

Surely Xiangxiang would shelter me."

Di Zhuomala folded her bone umbrella, the slight rain of the old street ceased. Humming a tune and thinking about the future, she walked toward the next street.

"Drip-drop~ da-da-da~"

There was still a supernatural event, according to Lao Di's weather forecast, there was a spider tornado this afternoon over there.

"Watch out! Get out of the way!"

Whether it was an illusion or not, while humming a hometown tune, Lao Di suddenly had a hallucination of her idol, Lord Xiangxiang's voice.

The voice was ethereal, with an electronic tone, blended into the wind, very indistinct.

But before she could turn around to check, someone pushed her from behind.

The massive impact lifted the girl's delicate waist, as if a siege hammer was attacking a noodle.

Lao Di flew high and, coming to her senses realized it was not a siege hammer but some round, bumpy object pressing against her lower back.

The object was hard, soft, very elastic yet non-reboundable, smooth but with suction.

Such contradictory features appeared on the same item.

Lao Di thought she might have encountered a ghost...no, to be accurate, she was bumped by a ghost.

Thinking of ghosts, Lao Di panicked.

Since childhood, she feared or disliked this kind of thing, a fear unrelated to Cultivation.

However, as she prepared to exert her ultimate skill to escape this [Ghost Topped Waist], a flash of blue light appeared before her, with Xiangxiang's distorted face emerging.

Because of the distortion, Lao Di didn't recognize Xiangxiang.

At that moment, Xiangxiang's face lacked defined eyes, or a nose, features blurred like spreading ink, occasionally merging.

Lao Di bit her tongue tip, barely managing to avoid fainting.

Xiangxiang was unaware of anything wrong with her appearance; seeing she bumped Di Zhuomala, she became happy.

Xiangxiang, "Di? Why are you here?... Forget it, your timing is perfect, help me pave the way!"

Hearing Xiangxiang's voice, Lao Di rubbed her hands and extinguished the Battle Pattern in her palm.

Di Zhuomala, "What way? What road?"

Xiangxiang, "Pave the road to the Holy Tree!"

She didn't understand what Xiangxiang wanted but didn't get a chance to ask, as several black metal straps behind suddenly emerged, securing her tightly to the armed stroller.

"Charge!" Xiangxiang shouted full of passion.

Di Zhuomala, "Ah? #%&!, slow down, I can't hold on!"

... 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

Xiangxiang's new activity created quite a stir, quickly attracting attention from Fucheng's many strong individuals, including Lao Di's father, Old Lao Di.

Seeing his daughter being lifted by a sphere and people Sword Controlling in pursuit, he smiled contentedly.

"Great, she's made such a good new friend."

Though some people's definition of friends might seem odd, the face of the former substitute Saintess indeed proved influential.

The journey was unobstructed, with Xiangxiang being chased by Junior Sister, soon 'kidnapping' Lao Di by the root of the Holy Tree.

Retrieving the wheelchair race finals footage from database, Xiangxiang made a glamorous drift halting before the tree root.

On the thick pink root, a golden door lay.