The mountains are not like mountains, the waters are not like waters, the lake is not a lake, the stones are not stones, the flowers are not flowers, the trees are not trees. Everything is so real yet so ethereal. This is the Misty Pavilion, giving one a sensation of coolness and tranquility, making one momentarily lost in its charm.
"Divine Emperor? Divine Emperor?..."
Ming Zhi Tian snapped back to reality, seeing Qing Zi and Bi Lan calling him.
Seeing that Dong Fang Min Er had vanished, Ming Zhi Tian followed the two women to a pavilion.
The two retreated. A moment later, Dong Fang Min Er emerged and poured him tea, saying, "Divine Ming, please sit."
She was someone who had seen much. Approaching such a powerful deity as Ming Zhi Tian, she showed no sign of fluster.
They sat down. Dong Fang Min Er offered him the tea first. Ming Zhi Tian took a sip. The aroma of the tea filled his nostrils, tasting bitter at first, then sweet. A clear current flowed into his mind, like a silver dragon coursing through his limbs, fading in and out, finally transforming into a sense of comfort and clarity.
"Good tea."
Dong Fang Min Er smiled, covering her mouth slightly. "This is Ten Thousand Year Green Rain Like Spring. There's less than half a gram left in stock. Since Divine Ming has graced us with your presence, we naturally extend our highest courtesy."
Ming Zhi Tian smiled faintly. Her flattery had hit the mark. Looking at Dong Fang Min Er, he noticed she had changed into a white dress. She looked pure and simple, innocent and guileless, a picture of delicate charm that inspired tenderness.
Dong Fang Min Er's gaze was sharp. She observed, "Divine Ming truly lacks appreciation for beauty. You've drunk good tea but forgotten to praise the hostess..."
Ming Zhi Tian felt goosebumps rise. Seeing Dong Fang Min Er approaching him slowly, he sensed she had something to ask.
Ming Zhi Tian gestured, "You seem to have something to ask of me as well?"
Dong Fang Min Er sat directly on his lap, her posture alluring as she leaned her face towards him. "Divine Ming has sharp eyes. But Min Er believes that both our matters are extremely difficult to resolve, yet we are each getting what we need."
This was a transaction. Ming Zhi Tian pushed her away. "Get up first."
Dong Fang Min Er was slightly taken aback. To think there was a man uninterested in her! How strange, how very strange.
Sensing her unusual gaze, Ming Zhi Tian coughed dryly. "I'm not really into women at the moment."
Dong Fang Min Er blinked. "Could it be that you're... gay?"
Ming Zhi Tian quickly stood up. "Stop right there. I'm straight!"
"Cough, cough..." Dong Fang Min Er was clearly choked by her own amusement. "Apologies, just a joke. No need to get agitated."
Ming Zhi Tian turned serious. "Do you want to speak first, or should I?"
Dong Fang Min Er said, "Since Divine Ming has spoken, it must be something incredibly difficult to accomplish. Conversely, I believe Divine Ming can surely handle Min Er's matter, so you speak first."
Ming Zhi Tian got straight to the point. "You should know I am skilled in the art of mechanisms. I need a large quantity of puppet body components. As long as they are flawless, you understand what I mean? They are for crafting female bodies..."
Dong Fang Min Er nodded in understanding. "Indeed, it is extremely difficult."
Ming Zhi Tian shook his head. "No, you just need to tell me the names of the materials. I will find them myself. Of course, if you have some free time..."
Dong Fang Min Er thought for a moment, then summoned thousands of scrolls and ancient books from her storage bag, flipping through them to search.
After a while...
"Found it," Dong Fang Min Er pointed. "Is it this one?"
Ming Zhi Tian looked at the illustrations and descriptions in the ancient book. Mechanical components, flawless bodies, eighty-one million years old, gathering the essence of tens of thousands of years, sublimated by the sun and moon, pure rainbow of heaven and earth, the spirit of an immortal, the soul of a deity. Encountered once every three hundred years, perishing once every three hundred years. Rare and unpredictable.