Ritual and Ceremony.

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After kissing his wife, Margarita, one last time, Tian Xing summoned his clothes from the Celestial Immortals' wardrobe to dress himself, so he could appear as the Heaven Mandate Emperor, not as a lecher who only thinks with his lower dantian. However, noticing his body was still covered in bodily fluids, he stopped the summoning and decided to take a bath, even though he could have easily snapped his fingers to clean the filth instantly.

To Tian Xing, a practitioner of the Tian Ming Dao who always thought in the quantum realm or Taijitu Extreme, the act and process mattered more than the results. Out of a habit that had become characteristic of him—aligning his conscious mind with his subconscious—he chose to bathe as a mortal would, performing a ritual that not only cleansed his body but also his mind, reinforcing the synchronization between both parts of his being.

As he immersed himself in the ceremony, a practice rarely performed by immortals, Tian Xing reached for the soap. Seeing his hands—the same hands that had hurt Margarita—he sighed with sadness, remembering every moment he had harmed his melody out of shallow emotions that brought him neither benefit nor contentment. Slowly, he began scrubbing, starting with a slow movement that quickened as if he wanted to forget what he had done, his hands turning red from the pain brought by his Origin Return Domain.

Turning to his sword—the very blade that had coldly cut through Margarita's mind, attempting to replace her with Luo Yi—Tian Xing let out another sorrowful breath. Now, the jade he had once obsessed over bored him, leaving only Margarita's heart as the sole evidence of his sickness, which easily shifted from one person to the next in search of a perfect body. With slow, deliberate strokes, he ground the sword against a whetstone, sharpening it as a symbolic gesture of clearing his mind and restoring his sharpness once more.

As he continued his bathing ritual, Tian Xing could feel each of his melodies gaining a similar enlightenment about the importance of ritual, recognizing how it influenced the synchronization between the conscious and subconscious. Since there were places only they could cleanse for each other, he turned toward his melody. His wife nodded and walked closer, allowing him to begin scrubbing away the grime of filth. This time, he cleaned Margarita thoroughly, without anyone's assistance, while his mind once again wandered to the fact that he had metaphorically slashed her body and mind into a thousand pieces.

Starting with her face, Tian Xing caressed it gently before washing it, ensuring that every bit of grime was removed from his wife as a symbolic way of restoring her from the mistreatment he had subjected her to. Moving down to her neck, which he had collared and choked to the brink of death, Tian Xing cleansed this area that was used to transport cultivation energy, which he had tainted with his polluted, contradictory Yang, with his mind wandered to the fact that he had smeared the immortal's dignity, driven by his dark desires and lust.

As his hands moved lower, to her middle dantian, the seat of life, Tian Xing exhaled a breath of sorrow, reflecting on his vile urges to taint someone else's womb. His heart ached as if being sliced into thousands of pieces, shaken by the absurdity of his own evil desires that had constantly tried to drag his righteousness into the abyss, recognizing himself as the dimwitted demon wanting to harm an innocent babe still cradled in their mother's womb.

Taking a deep breath at the realization that he had become what he hated the most—the devil unable to recognize the creativity and potential in every sentient being—Tian Xing allowed the ritual of cleansing his wife's body to realign his mind, enduring the inner torment he had inflicted upon himself.

Inhaling sadness and exhaling agony, he returned to renewed clarity, able once again to see the tunnels of heaven, thanks to his wife's kiss on his forehead that had lifted him from the pit of hell. Emerging from that pit and seeing his wife Margarita, now immaculate as ever, like the perfect housewife who guided him back to reason, Tian Xing allowed her to bathe him, knowing he needed someone to pull him out of the hellish torment he had endured.

As Margarita cleaned his ears, nose, and mouth, Tian Xing's mind wandered to the fact that he had once been humiliated like his wife, which filled him with renewed anger. Despite having been subjected to such humiliation only once, he still harbored wrath, even though he had repeated these actions trillions of times.

However, due to Margarita's patient bathing, with her gently rubbing his chest and occasionally kissing his forehead, his anger gradually dissipated and was replaced by deep sadness and was moved by the realization that, despite everything he had done to her, his wife still loved him.

He also understood that if he had only one wife, the pain and brokenness they both endured might never have occurred. Allowing these mixed emotions to enter his mind, Tian Xing regained his focus and looked at his beautiful wife, now radiating celestial serenity and calm.

Free from the burden of the psyche of hell, Tian Xing once again returned to a state of contentment, realizing too late that his wife had been perfect from the beginning. Wiping away his tears of blood—shed out of indignation that all of this might never have happened if he had been content with only one—he said softly to his wife, "Thank you, my melody, for everything you've done for me."

Margarita, wiping away her own tears of blood, walked closer, kissed him on the chin, and replied, "I too, my symphony. Thank you for your rapid improvement."

Kissing her forehead and embracing her tightly, Tian Xing closed his eyes, savoring the moment of serene harmony. He fell into a peaceful sleep in their bath, letting go of the burdens they had carried over the past few moments, with only the tinkling lullaby of a bell and the gentle sounds of running water accompanying their rest. After a couple of weeks of sleeping in silence with his wife and without any other activity, Tian Xing yawned and awoke naturally, feeling the serene melody had already guided him into the far reaches of dreamland.

Seeing his melodies still floating in the water, resting in deep slumber, Tian Xing gently suspended Margarita in the water as well before returning to the wardrobe. Gazing at the extensive collection his wife had assembled for each of their melodic preferences, he decided to select one and dressed himself in a red royal robe with white inner garments. Looking at himself in the mirror, Tian Xing nodded in satisfaction, seeing a celestial immortal, the Heaven Mandate Emperor, who is capable of directing the fates of all creation. Taking the Golden Branch from the stool, he rested it on his arm before finally walking outside his house, ready to re-enter the world of karma once again.

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