Chapter 70: Tianpeng Bemoans His Misery, Su Chen Plots His Strategy

After a few cups of wine, the Heavenly Marshal Tianpeng’s tongue loosened completely; after chatting a few words about the immortals of the Moon Palace, he turned to the power dynamics of the Heavenly Court.

Su Chen cared only about the Moon Palace, but he knew he must not interrupt him now.

So he listened as Tianpeng began pouring out his grievances.

“Brother Su Chen, you don’t understand—though I’m called Marshal, I may look mighty, but I’m truly miserable. Because I’m His Majesty’s confidant, everything I do is restricted. You’ve just arrived, so you don’t know: though the Heavenly Court appears to be ruled by His Majesty alone, in truth, every major faction forms cliques…”

The Heavenly Marshal grew more agitated as he spoke, downing a large gulp of wine.

Su Chen listened quietly, occasionally refilling his cup, murmuring in agreement: “Marshal, you’ve suffered so much. You’ve been wronged.”

He knew that at this moment, the best course was to be a proper listener.

True enough, after venting about his work, Tianpeng changed the topic to what truly troubled him.

“Bah, those work troubles? Forget them. What really gnaws at me… is the matter of the Moon Palace!”

He lowered his voice, leaning close to Su Chen’s ear, breath reeking of wine.

“Brother Su Chen, be honest—do you think I’m worthy of Chang’e Immortal?”

Su Chen smiled inwardly, but his face wore an expression of righteous indignation.

“Marshal, how can you say such a thing? Who are you? Commander of the Heavenly River Army! You have looks, you have status! Chang’e Immortal, though beautiful, is merely a dancing immortal of the Moon Palace. For her to catch your eye is her fortune earned over eight lifetimes—how could she possibly be unworthy?”

These words struck straight to Tianpeng’s heart.

He slapped his thigh and exclaimed excitedly: “Exactly! That’s exactly what I think! Then why does she ignore me completely?”

“Every time she sees me, she’s icy, won’t say a word. All the rare treasures I send her? She won’t even glance at them—she returns them all. Brother, tell me, why?”

Tianpeng’s face was etched with sorrow, like a lovesick youth repeatedly rebuffed.

Watching him, Su Chen already had a plan.

He paused thoughtfully, then spoke slowly, adopting the tone of a seasoned elder.

“Marshal, forgive me for speaking plainly—your approach to winning the Immortal’s heart began with a fatal mistake.”

“A mistake?” Tianpeng blinked. “What mistake? I’ve sent her treasures rare across the Three Realms. Isn’t that sincere enough?”

“Marshal, the problem lies precisely in sending gifts,” Su Chen shook his head, speaking with the air of a master strategist.

“Think: who is Chang’e Immortal? She dwells in the Moon Palace, under the patronage of the Lady of the Yin Star. What rare treasures hasn’t she seen? Your gifts, though precious, cannot move her heart.”

“Then what should I send?” Tianpeng asked earnestly.

“To court a woman—especially one as aloof and ethereal as Chang’e Immortal—you must abandon mortal thinking. Sending treasures is the worst strategy. You must offer her heart, something that will truly catch her eye.”

“Heart? Something to catch her eye?” Tianpeng frowned. “What’s that?”

Su Chen smiled faintly, lifted his cup, and took a small sip.

“Marshal, think: what is the Moon Palace? The Yin Star—the most yin, coldest place in the Three Realms. Living there forever, even an immortal must feel loneliness and chill, no?”

Tianpeng nodded slowly, deep in thought.

“Therefore,” Su Chen’s eyes gleamed with cunning, “you must not send cold treasures. You must send warmth—warmth that dispels the chill in her heart.”

“Warmth?” Tianpeng was more confused than ever.

“Yes—warmth,” Su Chen urged gently. “A song that brings her joy, a small trinket that warms her, even a single phrase that speaks directly to her soul. These are ten thousand times more powerful than your rare treasures.”

Tianpeng listened, utterly entranced—he now saw Su Chen as a master of love, a sage of the heart.

His gaze toward Su Chen had shifted from admiration to reverence.

“Brilliant! Truly brilliant!” Tianpeng slammed the table, exclaiming loudly. “One word from you surpasses ten years of study! Brother Su Chen, you are truly my wise mentor and true friend!”

He seized Su Chen’s hand, eager: “Brother, you must help me! Tell me—what warm gift should I give her?”

Su Chen thought inwardly: “After all this setup, the real question finally comes.”

He feigned deep thought for a long moment, then spoke slowly: “This… I can only offer theoretical advice. To truly prescribe the cure, I must go near the Moon Palace myself, observe its environment, feel its atmosphere—only then can I offer a better plan.”

At this point, Tianpeng fully believed Su Chen’s words.

He immediately said: “That’s easy!”

He leaned close to Su Chen’s ear, whispering mysteriously: “Brother, I won’t hide it—soon, it’s my turn to lead the Heavenly River Army in patrolling the skies near the Yin Star. Then, you’ll come with me. I’ll take you to the outer rim of the Yin Star, where you can gaze upon the Moon Palace from afar. Help me plan this—once it succeeds, you’ll be my dearest brother!”

Su Chen had been waiting for these exact words!

Yet his face showed shock and hesitation.

“Marshal, isn’t this improper? Patrols of the Heavenly River are military affairs—how can an outsider like me join?”

“Nonsense!” Tianpeng thumped his chest loudly. “It’s my domain—I say it’s proper, and it is! It’s settled! Drink! We won’t stop until we’re drunk!”

The banquet ended with joy for all.

At least, on the surface.

Tianpeng was the happiest—he was utterly drunk, and as he left, he clung to Su Chen’s hand, calling him brother, reluctant to part.

“Brother Su Chen, remember: three days from now, at the Heavenly River Army camp—I’ll wait for you. Don’t you dare miss it!”

“Marshal, rest assured—I’ll be there on time,” Su Chen replied with a smile.

After seeing off all guests, the grand Saint’s Mansion returned to its usual quiet solitude.