I picked up the Jade Dragon Bow, slinging it over my shoulder before leaving the room. My time in the army had taught me caution; to always have a weapon on hand. Walking outside, I tested once more the wards which Liwei and I had woven. Threads of gold and silver knitted tightly together—as delicate as a spiderweb, yet stronger than iron. With a burst of defiance, I thought, if enemies lurked on the horizon, I would be ready for them.
That night, I did not dream of Wenzhi. I was unsettled, unsure of how I felt, though I sensed it was not the last I had seen of him.
My days fell into a routine. Since my mother’s punishment was lifted, many immortals came to visit us. Some to pay their respects, others to satisfy their curiosity—more interested in the scandal of our tale than out of any true concern. I longed to show them out after the first cup of tea, but my mother’s glare restrained my ruder impulses. Yet beyond these slight irritations, it was wonderful to be home. To feel safe and free and loved. True to her promise, Shuxiao was a frequent visitor, often dropping by unannounced. I was always glad for her company and to hear her news of the realm. Minyi came, too, and even Teacher Daoming and General Jianyun. These were my favorite times—sharing my home with the friends I had made, to hear their voices and laughter spilling through our halls. Such company did not detract from the peace but enhanced it.
Yet no visitor was more frequent than Liwei. We took long walks through the white osmanthus forest, winding between the glowing lanterns, beneath the starlit sky. When I played the qin or flute, he sat beside me, sketching or painting. At times I looked up to find his dark eyes fixed on me with such intensity, my fingers would falter over the melody. But I no longer shied from his touch, nor felt that pang of guilt when my pulse quickened at the sight of him. And my mind, once more, dared to dream of our future.
Some nights, after Ping’er had gone to bed, I joined my mother as she stood on the balcony of our home. We were together, yet each of us lost in our own memories—hers, of the realm below, and mine of the skies above. I now understood, with startling clarity, why she had not wanted to be disturbed during these times. And though we did not speak, we found a kind of solace in each other’s company, in sharing our sorrow—a sorrow which I had no comprehension of in my childhood. Often, I started to find myself alone, not noticing when she had left—so wrapped up was I in my own thoughts, in trying to answer the questions which whirled through my mind.
Could Liwei and I truly forget all that had transpired to tear us apart? Could the ties that were severed be remade? In the tranquility of my home, I hoped to have the time to unravel these tangled knots of my life. Yet even though we were immortal, I could not walk this path forever—shying from love, wary of making the wrong decision, afraid to be hurt. I had not believed myself fickle, but the truth was I no longer knew my own heart.
I had always thought life was a road, twisting and turning with the vagaries of fate. Luck and opportunity, gifts beyond our control. As I gazed across the endless night, it dawned on me then, that our paths were forged from the choices we made. Whether to reach for an opportunity or to let it pass by. To be swept up with change or to hold your ground. On the surface, my life had come full circle. Yet no longer did I have to hide in the shadows, burying my past and fearing for my future. Never again would I conceal who I was, and the names of my father and mother. Word had spread throughout the eight kingdoms of the Immortal Realm that I was the daughter of the Moon Goddess, and of the mortal who had slain the suns.
In the darkness, the thousand lanterns flickered to life. The sky was clear. The stars infinite. The light of the moon was full and bright. On a night as this, my heart was content, awaiting the promise of tomorrow.
Acknowledgments
Daughter of the Moon Goddess began as a wild dream which would not have been possible without the love and support of my family and friends, and those who believed in the book and me. I feel truly blessed to be able to include them here.
To David Pomerico, my brilliant editor at Harper Voyager US—I will always remember our first call, which changed the course of my life, and I knew then that my book had found its home. It is an honor to work with you, and you’ve been an incredible champion for Daughter of the Moon Goddess. Your vision for the book and keen notes （the humor was appreciated） drove me to become a better writer, and the story is so much stronger because of you.
To Vicky Leech, my amazing editor at Harper Voyager UK—I am truly so glad to be working with you! Thank you for being a wonderful advocate, and for your inspiring ideas that took us down paths I never imagined we’d tread, which I am grateful that we did.