Clothes Redder than Maple, Skin White as Snow
OF COURSE, those were words he would never say out loud. But no wonder Nan Feng and Fu Yao’s faces changed when they heard about the silver butterflies. They must’ve had a hard time at the hands of the silver butterflies’ master, together with the two generals they served.
“Your Highness, d-d-d-did Hua Cheng do anything to you?” an official asked, as if Xie Lian should be missing an arm or a leg.
“He didn’t really do anything, just…” Xie Lian stopped, at a loss for words.
Just what? He couldn’t possibly say that Hua Cheng just hijacked his sedan, held his hand, and strolled with him in the woods?
Stumped for a moment, Xie Lian finally said, “He broke Xuan Ji’s enchantment array at Mount Yujun and took me inside.”
The heavenly officials all grumbled inwardly but remained in uneasy silence. After a while, an official finally asked, “What do you all think of
this?”
From the voice alone, Xie Lian could imagine how the various officials looked as they shook their heads and shrugged.
“Who knows?! Completely no idea!”
“No one knows what he wants, how scary!”
“What on earth is he thinking? No one can read that Hua Cheng…”
Although Hua Cheng had been ubiquitously known as the devil incarnate, Xie Lian didn’t think he was that scary. And all things considered, Xie Lian had Hua Cheng to thank for his help in the northern case this time around. Either way, his first mission after ascension was complete.
It was predetermined that all merits from the northern case would be counted under Xie Lian’s name, but that old lord official was so overwhelmed with grief over the death of his daughter that he didn’t
actually remember to fulfill the promises of his prayers until much later, and the merits were discounted because he did so mournfully. Yet somehow, with a little bit here, a little bit there, and a lot of oversight everywhere, Xie Lian was finally able to repay most of the eight million eight hundred and eighty thousand merits.
Xie Lian was at last debt-free! Feeling light with that weight off his shoulders, happy and high-spirited, Xie Lian decided he’d now focus on being a good god, and it would be great if he could become acquaintances or friends with other heavenly officials. Even though the Upper Court communication array was generally peaceful, it would turn boisterous once things got busy. Sometimes if an official was feeling good or had encountered something interesting, they’d share in the array, and there’d be merriment. Although Xie Lian didn’t recognize most of the voices, he would listen silently. But he couldn’t always remain invisible! After a while, he’d randomly join the conversation:
“That really is quite interesting.”
“I read this pleasant verse in passing and thought I’d share with everyone.”
“Here’s an effective little cure for back and leg pains; thought I’d share with everyone.”
Unfortunately, every time he’d share these mindfully selected, physically and mentally beneficial tips, the communication array would go silent.
Finally, Ling Wen couldn’t take it anymore and told him privately: “Your Highness, what you’re sharing in the communication array is nice, but even those who are hundreds of years older than you wouldn’t share those kinds of things.”
Xie Lian felt a little depressed. He wasn’t even that old, so how did he end up becoming the senior among the heavenly officials, who couldn’t keep up with the trending topics of the youngsters? Probably because he’d
been away for too long and always lived a solitary life without a care for the outside world. Alas, it couldn’t be helped, so whatever. He gave up, and
became less depressed.
But there was another problem: there were still no new shrines built for him in the Mortal Realm. Maybe there were, but the heavens hadn’t found them, so there weren’t any records. Even old Lords of the Ground and Soil had shrines. As a formally ascended official, one of three times at that, having neither shrine nor temple nor followers was pretty awkward. But, as awkward as it was, it was only other heavenly officials feeling awkward for him. Xie Lian personally thought it wasn’t that bad.
And one day, on a whim, he suddenly thought: If no one worships me, I’ll worship myself!
None of the heavenly officials knew how to respond to that.
Who had ever fucking heard of a god worshipping himself?! To reach such tragic heights, what was the point?!
However, Xie Lian was used to receiving nothing but awkward
silence the moment he spoke and thought amusing himself could be fun. Once he made up his mind, he jumped back down to the Mortal Realm.
This time, he landed in a small village in the mountains. It was known as Puqi, named for the water chestnut.
Rather than a village, it was more like a hillside hamlet. With green trees and clear waters, it was a pleasant country landscape with continuous stretches of rice paddies. With such beautiful scenery, Xie Lian thought he’d landed in a really good place this time.
When he looked further, he saw there was a small, dilapidated shack on a hill, and upon asking around, the villagers told him: “That house is decrepit, there’s no owner, and vagrants sleep a night in there every once in a while, so you can go make yourself at home.”
Well, wasn’t that just perfect for him? Xie Lian walked toward the
shack.
As Xie Lian walked closer, he realized that the shack looked decrepit
from afar, but on closer inspection, it was literally crumbling. Two of the four columns that held up the rectangle-shaped shack were probably rotted through. When the wind blew, the entire shack would shake and creak, possibly ready to collapse at any time. But it was still within Xie Lian’s
range of acceptable. He went in for a look and began to tidy up the place.
The villagers were quite surprised to see that someone was actually going to settle in that shack, and all came to check Xie Lian out. They gave Xie Lian a huge, warm welcome. Not only did they donate a broom to help with cleaning and watch as he swept until he was covered in dust, they even gave him a basket of freshly picked water chestnuts. With their skin peeled off, the water chestnuts were white and crisp, fresh and juicy. Xie Lian squatted on the doorstep and ate them. He then put his hands together, and feeling thankful for this blessing, he decided to call this place “Puqi
Shrine.”
Puqi Shrine already had a table inside that could be used as the altar
—after a couple of wipe-downs. Xie Lian busied himself with cleaning this and that, and the onlooking villagers soon realized that this young man was building a shrine of sorts. Curiosity overtook them, and they questioned him.
“Which god are you going to worship?”
Xie Lian cleared his throat and said, “Yes. Um. This shrine will be for the Prince of Xianle.”
Everyone’s face went blank. “Who’s that?”
Xie Lian replied, “Um…I don’t know either? He’s a prince. I think.” “Ooh. What does he do?”
“Probably watches over you and keeps you safe.” While collecting scraps in passing.
The villagers asked excitedly, “Then, does this prince oversee the blessing of wealth?”
It’d already be pretty good if you don’t get blessed into debt, Xie Lian thought to himself and gently replied, “I’m afraid not.”
The crowd started throwing suggestions at him.
“Why not worship the Water Master? For wealth! It’ll bring in good money for the temple!”
“What about Ling Wen-zhenjun? Then maybe our village will produce a scholar!”
A girl shyly offered, “Um…what about…what about…”
Xie Lian maintained his smile. “What about?” “General Ju Yang.”
“…”
If Xie Lian really built a Ju Yang Shrine, Feng Xin would probably shoot him dead on the spot with an arrow!
After roughly tidying his shrine, all that was left that Xie Lian needed were an incense burner, some fortune shakers, and other miscellaneous sundries. But Xie Lian forgot the most important thing: the statue of a god.
He carried his bamboo hat on his back and stepped out the door—oh yeah, there was no door either. He pondered for a moment. This shack definitely had to be repaired. And so Xie Lian wrote and put a sign out front: “Please kindly donate to the renovation of this broken shrine for the accumulation of good merits.”
Xie Lian left, walked for three to four kilometers and entered town.
To do what? To get a life of course, so he went to do what he did best.
In fairy tales, gods didn’t need to eat. But in truth, it was hard to say.
The almighty could certainly extract and absorb the necessary spiritual energy directly from sunshine and rain dew, but the problem was: it wasn’t a matter of ability, but rather, why would you?
Some gods, due to their cultivation methods, required clean internal organs and could not touch even a drop of mortal grease. If they were to ingest mortal sustenance, it would be as if they had been struck with food poisoning and they would get diarrhea. Thus, they would only ingest cleanly-grown spiritual fruits or magical beasts that had life-prolonging and power-strengthening effects.
Xie Lian didn’t have those problems. With the curse collar on, he was no different than a mortal. He could eat anything, and through experience, nothing he ate could kill him either. Even if it was a bun that had been set
aside for over a month, or a cake that had gone moldy, he could eat it all without harm. With such a body, he could pretty much get by just collecting scraps. To compare them, building a shrine cost him money, while collecting scraps made him money, so ultimately, truly, collecting scraps
was better than ascension.
Xie Lian had the looks and grace of a saint, so he had the upper hand when collecting scraps, and it took him almost no time to collect a giant bag. On the way back, he saw an old ox cart that was piled high with hay.
The cart looked like one he’d seen before in Puqi Village, so it should be going the same way. He asked for a ride, and the cart driver tilted his chin to signal for him to get on. Carrying his big bundle of junk, Xie Lian climbed on to take a seat. It was only when he settled down that he realized there was someone else lying on the other side of the tall stack of hay.
This person, whose upper body was hidden behind the hay, had his left leg crossed over his right. It appeared that he was lying there with his arms pillowed behind his head, taking a rest. He looked so carefree and at ease that it made Xie Lian a little envious. That tight pair of black boots on a pair of long legs was a sight pleasing to the eyes, and it reminded Xie Lian of a different pair that walked with him at Mount Yujun. Xie Lian could not help but sneak several more looks to confirm that there were no silver chains on those boots, which seemed to be made of animal pelt.
This is probably a young master coming out to play, he thought.
The cart shook as it drove languidly. Xie Lian pushed back his bamboo hat and took out a scroll to read. He didn’t really care for worldly affairs, but after having created too many awkward situations, he figured he’d better do some studying. The cart rattled and time passed. Looking up, they were traversing a maple grove, a sea of flaming red in a field of green. The rustic charm of the mountainous countryside, with fresh grass that refreshed the mind, was extremely intoxicating. But Xie Lian could not help but be slightly taken aback.
A long time ago, in his youth, when he cultivated at the Royal Holy Temple, the entire mountain of maple was like this, shimmering like gold, intense like fire. The unforgettable sight before him now inevitably took him on a trip down memory lane. Xie Lian watched for a long time before looking down at the scroll.
The first few lines on the scroll were thus:
The Prince of Xianle, ascended thrice as: a Martial God, a Misfortune God, a Rubbish God.
“…Well, all right,” Xie Lian said out loud. “If you think about it, a martial god is no different than a rubbish god. All gods are equal. All beings
are equal.”
A snicker came from behind, and a voice said, “Is that right?”
The youth on the other side of the cart lazily continued in a drawl, “People naturally love saying that all gods are equal and all beings are equal, but if that were true, then pretty much all those different gods wouldn’t exist.”
Xie Lian looked at the boy, who was still lying there idly without showing any intention of getting up. He had likely interrupted out of boredom.
“You’re probably right,” Xie Lian said and smiled.
Xie Lian returned to his scroll and continued reading. Further down the line read: Many believe that, as the God of
Misfortune, any paintings or writings of the Prince of Xianle have the powers of a curse. If placed on the back of a person, or on the main
entrance of a household, then the cursed person or household will run into all sorts of bad luck…
…It was hard to tell whether this was a description of a god or a
ghost.
Xie Lian shook his head. He couldn’t bear to read any more about
himself. It was probably better to read about other prominent gods of today, so he wouldn’t be discourteous if he ran into them and ended up not being able to tell them apart. A villager had mentioned the Water Master earlier, so Xie Lian moved on to find the description of the Water Master.
The Water Master Wudu: controls water and simultaneously wealth.
Most merchants have a Water Master shrine in their stores and homes to guarantee their wealth.
Xie Lian thought this was strange. “Why would a God of Water control wealth?”
The youth behind the hay responded, “When merchants transport goods, their cargo is mainly sent on the waterways, so they always go to the Water Master Temple and light up a tall incense to pray for a safe journey, promising this or that when they return. After a while, the Water Master gradually came to control wealth.”
The youth was actually answering his questions specially for him.
Xie Lian turned around. “Really? Interesting. The Water Master must be a very powerful major god, then.”
The youth sneered. “Yeah, he’s the ‘Water Tyrant,’ after all.”
Judging by tone, Xie Lian didn’t think the boy took that particular heavenly official all that seriously. It didn’t sound like he was complimenting him either. “What’s the ‘Water Tyrant’?”
The youth replied leisurely, “When a ship travels down a major river, it all depends on him whether the ship can set sail. No offerings means capsizing. Pretty tyrannical, so that’s how he received the nickname. Kinda like General Ju Yang and the Sweeping General.”
Famous gods usually had a nickname or two between all the realms.
For example, Xie Lian was known as the Laughingstock of the Three Realms, the Infamous Freak, the Jinx, the Loser, ahem, ahem, etcetera. Usually, it was fairly disrespectful to use those nicknames on heavenly officials, like if anyone were to call Mu Qing the Sweeping General, he’d surely fly into a rage.
Xie Lian made a note to himself on what not to call the Water Master and said, “I see. Thanks so much for enlightening me.” He paused briefly and, thinking this youth to be a rather intriguing conversationalist, he continued, “My friend, you look young, but you know a lot.”
The youth replied, “Nah. Just bored. I read whatever when I’m free, that’s all.”
In the Mortal Realm, it was easy to find books on lore that spoke of the stories of gods and ghosts, the subjects ranging from their kindnesses
and grudges to trivialities. Some were real and some fake. It wasn’t odd that the youth knew so much.
Xie Lian put down his scroll. “Then, my friend, you know about gods, but do you know about ghosts too?”
“Which ghost?” the youth asked.
Xie Lian replied, “Crimson Rain Sought Flower, Hua Cheng.”
The youth chuckled and finally sat up when he heard that name. He turned around, and Xie Lian’s eyes suddenly lit up.
The youth was about sixteen or seventeen years old. His tunic was redder than maple leaves, and his skin was white like snow. With eyes as bright as stars, he looked askance at him with a smile. He was exceptionally handsome, but there was an inexplicable hint of wildness in his looks. His hair was tied in a loose ponytail, crooked and carefree.
The cart was driving through the forest of flaming red maples, where maple leaves danced their way to the ground. A leaf playfully landed on the shoulder of the youth, and he blew it off softly, then looked up at Xie Lian, speaking with a shadow of a smile.
“What do you want to know? Ask away.”
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He looked teasing, yet somehow possessed the perfect composure of omniscience. Though he sounded youthful, his voice was deeper than was typical for his age and was pleasant to the ears.
Sitting upright on the cart, Xie Lian watched him thoughtfully for a moment, then said, “‘Crimson Rain Sought Flower’ evokes quite the imagery. Do you know where it came from, my friend?”
Out of respect, Xie Lian didn’t say “my little friend.” The youth sat up casually, propped an arm up on a raised knee, and fixed his sleeves.
He replied, unconcerned, “Nothing major, really. Just that, there was once an incident where he cleaned out the nest of another ghost, and a shower of blood rain poured down from the skies. He saw a flower was getting battered by the bloody rain, so he tilted his umbrella and shielded
it.”
Xie Lian pictured it in his head, imagining such an act of elegance under the rancid shower. He then thought about the burning of those thirty- three temples and laughed. “Does Hua Cheng pick fights often?”
The youth answered, “Not often. Depends on his mood.” “What was he like before his death?” Xie Lian asked. “Definitely not a good person,” the youth replied.
“What does he look like?”
The youth raised his eyes to look at him when he heard the question, tilted his head, and stood up before sitting down next to Xie Lian.
“What do you think he looks like?” He turned the question on Xie
Lian.
Seeing the youth up close, Xie Lian thought he was too handsome for
words. But his beauty was deadly like a sword, sharp and mesmerizing, making it hard to stare head-on. Xie Lian only met his eyes for a moment, then lowered his eyes in defeat.
He turned his head slightly and continued to ask, “If Hua Cheng is a big-shot ghost, I’m sure he has many forms and changes often.”
The youth arched his brows at Xie Lian turning away and replied,
“Yeah, but there are still times when he would use his real face. Of course,
we’re talking about his true form.”
It might have been his imagination, but Xie Lian thought the distance between the two of them seemed to be a little wide, so he turned his face back around. “Then, I feel his true form is probably a youth like you.”
The youth lifted his lips slightly. “Why do you say that?”
Xie Lian replied, “No reason. You say whatever and I think whatever, everything is whatever, that’s all.”
The youth laughed. “Who knows? But he’s blind in one eye.” He pointed to his right eye. “This one.”
That was nothing outrageous. Xie Lian recalled one of the many backstory versions where Hua Cheng wore a black eyepatch to hide that missing eye and asked, “Do you know what happened to his eye?”
“That’s a question everyone wants the answer to,” the youth replied.
Others asked because they wanted to know what Hua Cheng’s
weakness was, but Xie Lian asked purely out of curiosity. He didn’t say anything, and the youth continued. “He dug it out himself.”
Xie Lian was taken aback. “Why?”
“A moment of madness,” the youth answered.
…He could dig out his own eye when struck by madness. Xie Lian
was now more curious than ever about this Crimson Ghost King. It couldn’t have been something as simple as a moment of madness, but there were probably no more details about that story.
Xie Lian pressed on, “Does Hua Cheng have any kind of weakness?”
He wasn’t expecting the youth to have the answer; it was just a casual question. If Hua Cheng’s weakness was so easily known, then whatever the rumored weakness was couldn’t possibly be true.
But the youth answered immediately, “His ashes.”
If one got ahold of a ghost’s ashes, one could take command of said ghost. If the ghost disobeyed, then by getting rid of the ashes, the ghost would dissolve and its soul disintegrate. This was common knowledge, but using it on Hua Cheng seemed fruitless.
Xie Lian smiled. “There’s probably no one who can obtain his ashes, so that weakness is the same as having no weakness.”
“You never know,” the youth said. “There are circumstances where a ghost would voluntarily give away his ashes.”
“Like the bet he had with those thirty-three heavenly officials?” “Yeah, right,” the youth scoffed.
He didn’t need to say the words for Xie Lian to understand that he meant there was no way Hua Cheng would have lost. He continued, “There’s a custom in the Ghost Realm where if a ghost has a special someone, they entrust their ashes to that person.”
That was akin to handing over one’s life to another person. Such passion, what a charming tale that would be. Xie Lian commented, interested, “I didn’t know the Ghost Realm had such a romantic practice.”
“They do,” the youth said. “But not many dare to practice it.”
Xie Lian thought as much. It wasn’t only ghosts who deceived humans, there were humans who deceived ghosts too. There must be endless tales of manipulation and betrayal.
Xie Lian sighed. “It certainly is painful to think about, to have given everything for love and lose everything in return.”
The youth laughed out loud. “What’s there to be afraid of? If it were me, I’d have no regrets giving away my ashes. Who cares if they want me to disintegrate or just scatter the ashes for fun!”
Xie Lian grinned, then suddenly realized that they still didn’t know each other’s names despite having chatted for so long. “My friend, what’s your name?”
The youth raised one hand over his forehead to block out the rays of the blood-red sunset and squinted his eyes as if loathing the sun. “Me? I’m third in my family. They call me San Lang.”6 He didn’t say his full name, and it wasn’t Xie Lian’s place to ask.
“My family name is Xie, given name is Lian. Are you heading to Puqi Village too?”
San Lang lay back into the hay, put his arms behind his head, and crossed his legs. “Dunno. I’ve no destination in mind.”
It sounded as if there was a story to his words, so Xie Lian gently asked, “What’s the matter?”
San Lang sighed. “My parents were quarrelling and kicked me out. I walked for a long time but had nowhere to go. I almost passed out from hunger on the streets before finding somewhere at random to lie down.”
The clothes on the boy’s back looked casual, but the material was of high quality. With the knowledgeable way he spoke and how carefree he appeared, Xie Lian had long since thought he was a boy from a wealthy family. It must be quite difficult for a respectable young man to wander so long on his own. Xie Lian understood that feeling. Hearing he was hungry, Xie Lian searched through his sack but only found a small steamed bun.
Good thing it hadn’t turned hard yet. “Want it?”
The youth nodded, and Xie Lian gave him the bun. San Lang took a
look at Xie Lian.
“What about you?”
“I’m all right. Not hungry yet,” Xie Lian replied.
San Lang pushed the bun back. “Then I’m all right too.”
Xie Lian looked at him, then split the bun in half and gave him half. “You can have half, and I’ll have the other half.”
Seeing this, San Lang accepted the steamed bun and started munching. Watching him sit and eat a simple bun obediently, Xie Lian felt like he was abusing the boy.
The ox cart drove slowly over the rugged hills as the sun gradually set and the two chatted in the back. The more they spoke, the more Xie Lian thought San Lang to be an extraordinary youth. At such a young age, his diction and behavior were already mature and intelligent, calm and collected, as if there was nothing in this world he didn’t know and nothing could stump him. Xie Lian thought he was wise beyond his years, but
sometimes he would still reveal the folly of youth.
Xie Lian said he was the Shrine Master of Puqi Shrine, and San Lang asked, “Puqi Shrine? Sounds like there are plenty of water chestnuts to eat; I like them. Which god is it for?”
Having been asked that troublesome question again, Xie Lian cleared his throat and said, “The Prince of Xianle. You probably don’t know him.”
The youth smiled, but before he could say anything, the ox cart suddenly shook violently.
The two jerked with the cart, and Xie Lian reached to grab San Lang, fearing he might fall. But just when his hand touched San Lang, the youth shook off his hand as if burned. There was only a slight change in his expression, but Xie Lian saw it and thought, maybe this boy actually disliked him? They’d had such a good time chatting all this way though, hadn’t they? But now wasn’t the time to ponder.
Xie Lian stood up and looked around. “What’s going on?”
The old driver responded, “I don’t know! Old Huang, why aren’t you moving? Go on, now!”
The sun had set, and the ox cart was still in the deep woods, now filled with darkness. Old Huang the ox just stood there, stubbornly refusing to move no matter how the old driver urged it. It kept mooing, wanting to dig its head into the earth, and flicking its tail like a whip. This didn’t feel right. Xie Lian was about to jump off the cart when suddenly, the old driver pointed straight ahead and screamed.
Farther up the road, a number of hovering balls of green flames were popping up, here and there. They gathered and burned, floating through the woods. A group of white-clad figures slowly made their way toward them, carrying their own severed heads.
Seeing this, Xie Lian cried, “Protect!”
Ruoye flew out from his sleeve and wrapped itself in a circle around the ox cart from above, protecting the three plus the one beast.
Xie Lian turned back and demanded, “What day is it today?”
The old driver didn’t respond before the youth spoke up from behind. “It’s Zhongyuan.”
The middle of the seventh month, when the gates to the underworld opened. He didn’t check his calendar before coming out today, and it just happened to be the Zhongyuan Festival!
Xie Lian’s voice dropped. “Stay close to me. We’ve run into evil tonight. If we go down the wrong path at the fork, we’ll never return.”
***
The figures were dressed in white prisoner garb and had no heads. It appeared they were newly executed criminals, and every one of them held a head in their hands. They wobbled slowly toward the ox cart as their heads buzzed in those boney arms.
Xie Lian instructed the other two on the cart in a low voice, “In a moment, when they approach, do not make a sound.”
San Lang tilted his head. “Gege, I can’t believe you’re a man with superpowers!” He sounded greatly interested, and Xie Lian replied, “Not
really superpowers, I only know a few tricks. They can’t see us now, but it’s hard to say whether they will when they get close.”
That old cart driver’s eyes were already wide with fear after seeing the flight of the silk cloth, and now that there were headless walkers, his
eyes were about to roll back in terror. He shook his head repeatedly. “No no no no, I don’t think I can hold my voice in! Daozhang, what should I do?!”
“…Then, there’s another way. I apologize in advance.”
Xie Lian swiftly swung his hand and tapped a point on the old man’s back, and instantly the man slumped and passed out. Xie Lian caught him lightly and laid him down flat on the ox cart while he himself assumed the driver’s seat. Suddenly, he sensed a strange movement behind him, and when he turned back to look, he saw that youth had followed after him and settled right behind him.
Xie Lian asked, “Are you all right?”
San Lang propped up his chin. “Of course not. I’m scared.”
Although there wasn’t a single trace of fright detectable in his voice, Xie Lian still comforted him. “Don’t be scared. You’re behind me, nothing will harm you.”
The youth smiled, not saying a word. Xie Lian suddenly realized the youth was staring at him. Then, quickly, it dawned on him that what this youth was staring at was actually the cursed shackle around his neck.
This cursed shackle was like a black collar bound to his neck, completely unconcealable. It could easily cause one to assume the worst. Xie Lian pulled at his collar lightly, even though it couldn’t hide anything.
The skies had darkened, and that youth’s expression could no longer be seen. Xie Lian picked up the reins to gently urge the ox onward. The group of ghosts in criminal garb walked over wanting to pass, but they kept sensing that there was something blocking the middle of the road, so they all cursed up and down.
“What the hell’s going on? Why can’t we pass?!” “Yeah! What the hell! Is it haunted?”
“Fucking hell, we’re the ones doing the haunting, all right?”
Xie Lian finally soothed the ox, and the cart silently passed by this band of headless criminal ghosts. Listening to the heads banter, Xie Lian thought them rather hilarious. They were full of petty woes:
“Um, did you make a mistake? How come it feels like the one holding your head is my body?”
“You’re the one whose body grabbed the wrong head!” “Hurry and switch back then, you guys…”
“How come the cut around your neck ain’t clean?”
“Hahhh, the executioner was a newbie. It took him five or six tries before he managed to chop my head off. Made me think he did it on
purpose!”
“Your family probably didn’t tip him well enough. Next time, don’t forget to pay the guy, and he’ll give you one clean chop!”
“There is no next time!!” The fifteenth day of the seventh month was the Zhongyuan Festival, the biggest festival for the Ghost Realm. On that
day, the gates to the underworld opened, and all manner of spirits, ghosts, monsters, and demons swarmed out to celebrate with abandon. Mortals needed to avoid them at all costs, and especially on a night like this, it was best to stay home with every door and window shut. But Xie Lian had
always had rotten luck. He could drink only water and the water would get stuck between his teeth, and he could be wearing holy repellant gear and
ghosts would appear, like was happening now. Ghost fires flared all around them and several were chasing after the fires, and some dressed in funeral garb were expressionlessly mumbling to themselves in front of a circle, trying to catch the offerings and joss paper money burned for the afterlife by mortals. A scene like this certainly epitomized the word
“pandemonium.” Xie Lian crossed through the middle, thinking that from now on he must pay more attention to the calendar when going out.
Suddenly, a screech that sounded like a chicken being butchered rang out. “Oh no! Oh no! Ghosts are being murdered!”
This scream made all the ghosts anxious.
“Where, where? Where are they murdering ghosts?!”
The ghost that screeched answered, “I’m scared out of my wits! I found so many shattered ghost fires over there, and they were all brutally crushed! What hostility!”
“All shattered? Then they’re truly broken beyond saving! That really is too much!”
“Who did it? Could it be… Have we been infiltrated by monks and cultivators?!”
That band of headless people started shouting.
“Ah! Now that you mention it, weren’t we just blocked by something on the road with no way of passing? Could that have been…”
“Where, where?” “Right there!”
Xie Lian cried oh no! mentally. The next second, a large group of nefarious beings surrounded the ox cart, each of their faces savage.
They threatened maliciously, “I smell the steaming scent of the living…”
They couldn’t hide any longer!
It was already unreasonable for a live human to crash in on a band of ghosts on Zhongyuan Festival, as if Xie Lian actually wanted to fight such a large mob of creatures. He urged the cart onward and shouted, “Go!”
The ox was terrified and was already stomping its hooves anxiously while it stood. Once it heard the shout, it didn’t need to be ordered twice before it pulled the cart into a mad dash.
Xie Lian didn’t forget to grab at the youth sitting behind him. “Sit tight!”
He withdrew Ruoye and conveniently whipped out the path of escape. An ox cart suddenly revealed itself amidst a circle of ghost fires and dashed out of the siege. Those green-faced, teeth-baring, missing-limbed
ghosts screeched behind the cart.
“There really is a cultivator!! Damn cultivator is tired of living!!”
“A live human actually dared to crash our Zhongyuan gathering, you can’t blame us for anything!”
“GET THEM!”
Xie Lian was gripping onto the reins with one hand as his other hand fumbled out a large handful of paper talismans and threw them to the ground.
“Hinder!”
Those were stumbling talismans, excellent tools for escape. A series of small rumbling noises could be heard; with every rumble, an obstacle was set up for that band of ghosts. It would stall them for a short time, but only a short one. Despite using up so many talismans, it wouldn’t even be half an incense time before they caught up. Xie Lian was driving the cart down the mountain path in an escape like his rear was on fire when he suddenly called out.
“Stop—!”
Turns out that old ox had pulled the cart to a fork in the road. Xie Lian saw there were two pitch-black mountain paths ahead and immediately pulled on the reins.
Now, he had to be extra careful here!
On the night of the Zhongyuan Festival, sometimes when people strolled, they might discover a road that had never existed before. Such a road should never be taken, because if they walked the wrong one, they would enter the Ghost Realm and never return.
Xie Lian had only just arrived in the area and didn’t know which path was the right one to take. Then he remembered that besides the large bag of junk he’d collected, he’d also purchased some miscellaneous items, including a fortune shaker. So he thought, why not shake out a fortune to
decide? Thus, he fumbled for the fortune shaker and shook it in his hands with a clattering sound, mumbling as he shook. “‘By the heaven official’s blessing, no paths are bound! The great road leads to heaven; one to each side, may we go our separate ways!’ The first stick left, the second stick right! We’ll take the path with the best fortune!”
Just as the words left his lips, clack, clack, two sticks fell out of the shaker. But when he picked them up and looked, he fell silent.
The worst of bad luck!
Both sticks were the worst of bad luck; both roads were perilous, so didn’t this mean they were going to die no matter what?
Xie Lian felt a little exasperated and shook the shaker furiously once more with both hands. “Dear fortune shaker, this is our first meeting, why are you so heartless? I’m going to try again. Please let me save face this
time.”
Clack, clack. Two sticks again, and when he picked them up, they were both still the worst of bad luck!
“Let me try?” San Lang spoke up suddenly.
It couldn’t go any worse than his anyway, so Xie Lian passed the
fortune shaker over. San Lang received it with a single hand and casually gave it a shake. Out fell two fortune sticks, and he picked them up and handed them to Xie Lian without even so much as a glance. Xie Lian gave them a look, and they were both, amazingly, the best of good luck. He couldn’t help but be awed. Since he first reached such a state of misery, it seemed that oftentimes those around him would also have their fortunes
affected by his crummy luck. Who knew if that was actually true, but either
way it was a complaint he’d heard frequently. Yet this youth wasn’t affected in the least if a casual shake could let him shake out two of the best of fortunes!
Since both fortune sticks showed the best of good luck, Xie Lian picked a path randomly and drove the cart as he praised sincerely. “My friend, your luck is really quite good.”
San Lang casually tossed the fortune shaker in the back and smiled. “Really? I think my luck is pretty good too. It’s always been so.”
Having heard him say “it’s always been so,” Xie Lian thought that the difference between people truly was as great as heaven and earth.
After running for a while, wails and hollers could suddenly be heard from all around.
“Caught him! He’s here!”
“Everyone come here! That damn cultivator is here!!”
Ghost head after ghost head popped out. Xie Lian spoke up, “Ah, I can’t believe we still picked the wrong path.”
The effect of the stumbling talismans was over; they were still surrounded after all!
There were at least a hundred in this mob of nefarious beings, surrounding them in wave after wave, and the numbers were still increasing. Xie Lian really didn’t know why there were so many inhuman creatures gathered here, but there wasn’t any time to wonder.
Xie Lian said warmly, “It wasn’t my intent to disturb everyone, I pray you will show us mercy.”
A headless ghost spoke up, “Tch! Stinkin’ cultivator. Why didn’t you show mercy first? The one who broke and dispersed a bunch of ghost fires over there was you, wasn’t it?!”
Xie Lian replied innocently, “It wasn’t us. Truth be told, I’m but a lowly scrap collector.”
“Don’t try to argue!! What kind of scrap collector looks like you?
You’re clearly a cultivator! And besides you, the cultivator, who here could do such a cruel thing?!”
“It doesn’t take a cultivator to break and disperse ghost fires,” Xie Lian reasoned.
“Then who could it be? Ghosts?”
Xie Lian quietly tucked his hands into his sleeves. “That’s not impossible.”
“Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha…damn cultivator! You…you…you…”
The band of ghosts who were roaring with mockery suddenly stopped in their tracks.
Xie Lian wondered aloud, “What about me?”
He might’ve asked a question, but they weren’t just stopped in their tracks now. They all stared at Xie Lian as if they were seeing something exceedingly terrifying. Their mouths were either gaping open or shut tight,
and a number of the heads held in the felons’ hands were even dropped onto the ground.
Xie Lian ventured again, “Everyone? Are you all…?”
Yet unexpectedly, before he finished his question, the band of ghosts all fled the scene, like the wind blowing away remnants of clouds.
Xie Lian was baffled. “What the—?!”
He hadn’t even taken out that bundle of talismans he clutched in his hand inside his sleeve yet, and he was found out? Were they really that
sharp? And they weren’t even particularly powerful talismans either. Xie Lian felt incredulous. Was it really him they saw?
Or something behind him?
Having thought this, he turned his head back and looked behind him. But there was only the passed-out ox cart owner and that carefree,
red-clad youth who was still propping up his cheek.
Seeing him look over, San Lang smiled and dropped his hand. “Daozhang, you’re amazing! You scared all those ghosts away.”
“…” Xie Lian smiled back. “Really? I didn’t realize I was actually this amazing.”
Then he pulled at the reins a couple of times, and the wheels of the ox cart began to roll slowly once more. The road after that was smooth, and it wasn’t even an hour before the ox cart slowly pulled out of the forest and
came to an open mountain path. Down below the hills, the warm glow of lights illuminated Puqi Village.
That really was the path of “the best of luck,” with a close call but no actual danger.
A night breeze brushed by, and Xie Lian turned his head back once more. San Lang seemed to be in a very good mood and had lain down, watching the moon with his hands pillowed behind his head. Beneath the faint moonlight, the youth’s complexion looked surreal.
After a moment of hesitation, Xie Lian smiled. “My friend.” “What is it?” San Lang replied.
“Have you ever had your fortune told?” Xie Lian asked.
“No?” San Lang replied, turning to face Xie Lian. “Do you want me to give you a session?”
San Lang looked at him and smiled. “Do you want to give me a
session?”
“A little bit,” Xie Lian said.
San Lang gave a slight nod. “Sure.”
He sat up, his body leaning slightly toward Xie Lian. “How do you want to read my fortune?”
“How about palm reading?” Xie Lian suggested.
Hearing this, the corners of San Lang’s lips curled. It was hard to tell what that smile meant, but he only replied with, “Sure.”
Then, he extended his left hand to Xie Lian.
This left hand was long and shapely, clean and elegant, a beautiful hand. It wasn’t a soft and meek kind of beauty, rather, there was strength hidden beneath the muscles. It was a hand that one wouldn’t want to have choking their throat. Xie Lian was careful not to touch
San Lang’s expression had shifted slightly the last time they touched, prompting Xie Lian to focus intently on his hand.
The moon hung brightly overhead, casting a gentle glow that kept the night from being too dark. As the ox cart slowly ascended the hills, the wheels creaked rhythmically.
“So?” San Lang asked, breaking the silence.
Xie Lian took his time, then replied, “You have a good hand.”
“Oh really? How so?” San Lang inquired.
Looking up, Xie Lian smiled warmly. “You possess a strong character—extremely stubborn. Yet when faced with challenges, you stay true to yourself and manage to turn adversity into opportunity. You have a boundless reservoir of good fortune, my friend. Your future is bright and filled with success.”
All of this was complete fabrication, conjured on the spot. Xie Lian had never learned palmistry. During his time of banishment, he often lamented not having acquired such skills from the state preceptors at the Royal Holy Temple. If he had, earning a living on the streets would have been easier, and he wouldn’t have had to busk or break stones on his chest. What he truly wanted to discern was whether the youth’s hands bore fingerprints and palm prints.
Normal ghosts and monsters could create fake bodies and masquerade as humans, but their attempts were often clumsy, missing intricate details like fingerprints. Yet this youth’s hands appeared completely ordinary, with distinct prints and no trace of magical fluctuation around him. If he were a ghost in disguise, he would have to be exceptionally skilled to pull off such a flawless act. But why would a Ghost King of such significance choose to travel with Xie Lian on an ox cart to visit Puqi Village? Just as heavenly officials were perpetually busy, Ghost Kings surely had their own responsibilities as well!
Xie Lian pretended to be confident in his fortune-telling and sweated through his bold-faced lies until he couldn’t come up with anything else.
San Lang watched him unblinkingly the whole time, sitting through his nonsense with an intrigued smile, chuckling under his breath.
“Got any more? Hm?” San Lang asked.
No way, what more did he want Xie Lian to make up? “Is there something else you want me to look at?”
“Don’t fortune-tellers always talk about love and marriage?” San Lang asked.
Xie Lian cleared his throat and replied solemnly, “To be honest, I’m actually not that great at fortune-telling, so I don’t know how to predict relationships. But I don’t imagine you have anything to worry about.”
San Lang arched his brows. “Why do you say that?”
Xie Lang grinned. “There must be tons of girls with crushes on you.” “And why do you suppose so many girls must like me?” San Lang
asked.
Xie Lian was about to go with the flow and answer before he realized
that this kid was manipulating him into praising him. Helpless and amused, Xie Lian didn’t know what to say and rubbed his forehead.
“San Lang…”
This was the first time Xie Lian ever called San Lang by name, and the youth laughed in delight, letting Xie Lian off the hook.
The ox cart had finally laboriously pulled into the village, and Xie Lian turned around and hurriedly got off the cart with his hand lightly supporting his forehead. San Lang followed behind and jumped off. Xie Lian finally looked up and realized that San Lang was actually a head taller than him! It wasn’t obvious when the youth was lazily lying in the hay, but standing tall, the two couldn’t see eye to eye on even ground.
San Lang stood before the cart and stretched, and Xie Lian asked, “San Lang, where will you go now?”
“Don’t know. Maybe sleep on the streets. Or a cave will do,” San Lang sighed.
“That won’t do…” Xie Lian said, concerned.
San Lang shrugged. “Can’t be helped. I’ve no place to go.” Then he grinned. “Thanks for telling my fortune. I’ll rely on your good words. See ya later.”
Xie Lian sweated in embarrassment at the mention of his fortune- telling. Seeing that the youth turned to leave, he quickly called after him. “Wait! Why don’t you come to my shrine, if you don’t mind?”
San Lang stopped in his tracks and turned halfway around. “Is that okay?”
Xie Lian explained, “The place wasn’t originally mine anyway, and I heard it housed a number of passersby before. But it’s probably much shabbier than what you’re used to. I’m afraid you wouldn’t be
comfortable.”
If this youth really was a runaway young master, Xie Lian couldn’t possibly let him run around the streets aimlessly. He strongly suspected that half a steamed bun was the only thing San Lang had eaten all day today, and youth or not, he would collapse somewhere if he kept that up. Hearing Xie Lian, San Lang turned fully around and said nothing, but walked up
close to Xie Lian and leaned forward. Xie Lian didn’t understand what he was up to, only that the distance between them had closed too fast. He suddenly didn’t know what to do.
Then the youth straightened back up, lifting the giant bag of junk Xie Lian had brought back in his hand.
He said, “Then let’s go.”
Xie Lian blanked on the spot. He watched as the tall and slender youth walked away with his giant bag of junk as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do, and it made him mutter inwardly, Forgive my sins. San Lang strode a few steps out and started walking. Xie Lian was about to follow him, but he remembered at the last second that the old driver was still asleep in the ox cart, so he went back around and woke the old man, advising him to keep the incident tonight a secret. After witnessing his powers, the old man didn’t dare to say no and hurriedly dragged his Old Huang home.
Only his rolled-up straw mat was left on the cart. Xie Lian hoisted it onto his back, turned around, and saw that San Lang had already started climbing the hill toward Puqi Shrine with his bag of random scraps.
Nearing the crooked, shaky shack that was Puqi Shrine, San Lang lowered his head and puffed out a laugh, as if seeing something amusing.
Xie Lian approached, saw that he was looking at his sign requesting donations, and cleared his throat.
“As you see, that’s it really. That’s why I said you might not be comfortable here.”
“It’s not too bad,” San Lang said.
In the past, it had always been Xie Lian who told others “It’s all right, it’s not too bad.” Hearing it from someone else for the first time gave him complicated feelings. The Puqi Shrine door had gone rotten long ago, so
Xie Lian had torn it down and replaced it with some curtains.
He lifted the drapes and invited, “Come on in.” And San Lang entered the shrine with him.
There wasn’t much in the small shrine, only a long altar table, two small stools, a small cushion, and a donation box. Xie Lian reached for the bag in San Lang’s hands, took out the fortune shaker, incense burner, and some paper and miscellaneous stationary, and placed them on the altar
table. Then he lit a used red candle someone had stuffed into his hand while he was collecting scraps, and the shrine brightened instantly.
San Lang picked up the fortune shaker, playfully gave it a shake, and then put it down. “So. Is there a bed?”
Xie Lian silently took the straw mat from his back and unrolled it to show him.
San Lang quirked a brow. “There’s only one?”
Xie Lian only met the youth on his way back from town, so of course he didn’t think he needed to buy more than one. “If you don’t mind, we can squeeze a bit for the night.”
“That works,” San Lang agreed.
Xie Lian then reached for the broom and swept the floor while San Lang looked around some more.
“Daozhang-gege, aren’t you missing something in this shrine?”
Xie Lian had just finished sweeping and was kneeling on the ground laying out the mat when he heard him. He answered as he patted their bedding, “Other than followers, I don’t think there’s anything missing.”
San Lang crouched down too, a hand propping up his chin. “What about a divine statue of the god?”
His words reminded Xie Lian. How did he forget the most important thing for a shrine: a god’s statue?!
A shrine without its idol is no shrine. Although one could say the god himself was present, he couldn’t possibly just sit up on the altar all day every day. Xie Lian contemplated for a moment and came up with a solution.
“I bought some paper and ink today. I’ll paint a portrait tomorrow.”
Painting a portrait of himself to be hung in the shrine he built for himself to pray to himself. If the Heavenly Realm caught wind of this, they’d probably laugh at him for another ten years. But the cost of commissioning a sculpture was rather hefty, and it took time too, so Xie Lian would rather be laughed at for ten years and save the money.
Unexpectedly, San Lang spoke up, “A portrait? I know how to paint one. Need my help?”
Startled, Xie Lian smiled. “Thanks, but I’m afraid you don’t know how to paint the Prince of Xianle, am I right?”
After all, most of his portraits had been burned and destroyed eight hundred years ago. No matter how many were left now, not many people would have seen them before.
San Lang replied, “Of course I do. Weren’t we talking about him earlier on the cart?”
Xie Lian remembered the conversation. That was indeed the case.
Earlier, he had said, “You probably don’t know him,” but San Lang did not respond. Hearing him speak now, Xie Lian was amazed. He finished with
the bedding and sat up straight.
“San Lang, don’t tell me you really do know him?” San Lang sat down on the mat and replied, “I do.”
The expression and tone of voice of this youth when he spoke were both very interesting. He was always smiling, but one could never tell whether his smiles were genuine or if he was actually mocking the other party for being too slow to keep up with the conversation. Having listened
to him chat on the way back, Xie Lian was rather interested in San Lang’s appraisal of him.
Xie Lian moved to sit next to him and asked, “So what do you think about this Prince of Xianle?”
Both men looked at each other under the lamp. The flame of the red candle flickered slightly. San Lang had his back to the candlelight, and it was hard to see his exact expression with his eyes immersed in shadows.
After a moment, he replied, “I think Jun Wu must really dislike him.”
Xie Lian wasn’t expecting this answer and was taken aback. “Why do you think that?”
“Why else would he have banished the prince twice?” San Lang replied.
Xie Lian smiled a little and thought, Indeed the thinking of a child.
He lowered his head and slowly removed his belt. “I don’t think it has anything to do with likes or dislikes. There are many things in this world that can’t be explained that way.”
“Hmm.”
Xie Lian turned around, removed his white boots, and continued, “Besides, one needs to be punished for making mistakes. The Heavenly Emperor was simply doing his duty both times.”
“Perhaps,” San Lang responded noncommittally.
Xie Lian took off his outer jacket, folded it, and was ready to place it on the altar table. Wanting to say more, he turned around, only to see San Lang’s eyes staring at his feet.
It was hard to describe that gaze; it was icy but searing, scorching but with a hint of chill. Xie Lian looked down and immediately understood. On his right ankle was a black cursed shackle.
The first curse was firmly locked around his neck, and the second was tightly fettered around his ankle. Both curses were placed in areas not easily concealed. In the past, if anyone asked, Xie Lian would lie and say they were for training purposes, but San Lang probably wouldn’t be so easily placated.
However, San Lang only stared at his ankle for a while without saying anything. So Xie Lian lay down on the mat, not worrying over the issue anymore. The youth also obediently lay down next to him, but he didn’t remove a single article of clothing. Xie Lian figured San Lang was probably not used to sleeping on the floor like this and thought perhaps he should find a way to get a bed after all.
“Let’s rest.”
Xie Lian softly blew out the candle and all became dark once more.
***
Early next morning, when Xie Lian opened his eyes, San Lang wasn’t next to him. He looked up and stopped, stunned. On top of the altar, there hung a portrait.
It was a portrait of a man with a golden mask, dressed glamorously in extravagant attire. There was a sword in one hand, a flower in the other. It was a beautifully and vividly painted portrait of the God-Pleasing Prince of Xianle.
It had been years since Xie Lian saw such a painting, and he stared at it stunned for a long time before getting up. He got dressed, then pulled back the curtain. San Lang was just outside, hiding in the shadows
alongside the shrine, twirling the broom in his hand and watching the sky with a bored expression.
It seemed this youth really didn’t like sunlight. The way he was watching the sky looked as if he wanted to pluck the sun and stomp it into pieces. All the fallen leaves around the shrine had been swept into a pile next to the entrance.
Xie Lian went out the door and asked, “Did you sleep well last night?”
San Lang was still leaning against the wall but turned his head and said, “Not bad.”
Xie Lian walked over, took the broom from his hands, and asked, “San Lang, did you paint that portrait in the shrine?”
San Lang replied, “Uh-huh.”
“It’s really well done,” Xie Lian praised.
San Lang’s lips lifted, but he didn’t say anything. Maybe it was
because he’d slept all over the place last night, but his ponytail this morning seemed to be even more crooked, loose and casual. It actually looked quite nice: casual but not messy, rather playful.
Xie Lian pointed at his own hair and asked, “Want me to help you with that?”
San Lang nodded and headed back inside with Xie Lian. When San Lang sat down, Xie Lian let down his black hair and quietly started examining it.
Even if the palm prints and fingerprints were perfectly detailed, ghosts always had one flaw in their body creation. The hair of a living person was uncountable, and it came in individual strands that were
intricate and distinct. The fake bodies created by ghosts had hair that was either a black blur or a pasted mass like long strips of fabric. Sometimes… they just went for a bald look.
Xie Lian had checked his palm prints and fingerprints the night before, and he had already lowered his guard. But seeing the portrait this morning raised his suspicions again.
How would an ordinary person know how to paint this portrait?
Yet when he combed his fingers gently through San Lang’s hair, Xie Lian couldn’t find anything amiss. After a while, San Lang let out a laugh as if he was ticklish from the touch. He turned his head slightly and looked at him out of the corner of his eye.
He said, “Gege, are you helping tie my hair? Or are you thinking of doing something else?”
With his hair down, San Lang still looked handsome, but there was an added air of wickedness. His question sounded like a tease, and Xie Lian grinned.
“All right, all right,” Xie Lian said and quickly finished doing San Lang’s hair.
But after that was done, when San Lang looked at his own reflection in the bucket of water in the corner, he turned back to Xie Lian with quirked brows. Xie Lian took a look and quietly cleared his throat.
The ponytail had been lopsided before. After Xie Lian retied it, it was still crooked.
Although San Lang didn’t say anything and merely stared at him, Xie Lian hadn’t felt this embarrassed in centuries. He lowered his hands and
was just about to suggest they try again when suddenly there was a commotion outside. Sounds of footfalls approached, and several loud bellows rang out.
“Great Immortal!!”
Bewildered, Xie Lian ran to the door just in time to see his shrine surrounded by a large crowd, everyone’s faces red and excited. The village chief sped ahead toward Xie Lian and grabbed his hand.
“Great Immortal! A living god has descended upon our small village!
We are so thankful!!!”
“????” said Xie Lian.
The rest of the villagers also followed the chief and surrounded Xie
Lian.
“Welcome to Puqi Village, Great Immortal!” “Great Immortal! Can you bless me with a wife?”
“Great Immortal! Can you bless my wife with a child?”
“Great Immortal! We have fresh water chestnuts for you! Do you
want water chestnuts?! After eating, can you conveniently bless me with a good harvest this year?!”
The villagers were so enthusiastic and passionate that Xie Lian had to take a few steps back, and he broke into a sweat. It seemed that the old driver from the night before had a big mouth! Xie Lian clearly told him not to tell, but the instant morning arrived, news had already traveled around
the entire village!
The villagers had no clue what kind of god was worshipped in Puqi Shrine, but still they all crowded in, wishing to light incense in prayer. It
didn’t matter who it was, a god was a god, and prayers do no harm. Xie Lian had initially expected tumbleweeds and crows at the shrine, with only a few coming to offer prayers, so he didn’t think to prepare a lot of incense.
Who knew that with such hubbub, all the incense would be gone in a second? The little incense burner was filled to the brim, and its heavy
smoke enveloped the shrine. Since Xie Lian had not smelled that scent in a long time, he even choked on it a few times.
He said as he coughed, “Cough cough, everyone, this shrine doesn’t bless you with wealth, really, cough, please stop wishing for wealth! The result is unpredictable…
“I’m sorry, this shrine doesn’t bless you with a good marriage either…
“No, no, no, it doesn’t grant pregnancies either…”
San Lang stopped caring about his sloppy hair and sat next to the donation box, one hand propping up his chin, the other grabbing water chestnuts to eat. Many village girls saw him and blushed.
They turned to Xie Lian. “Um, do you grant…”
Xie Lian didn’t know what they were going to ask, but felt instinctively that it must be stopped immediately, and cried, “No!”
When the crowd finally dispersed, the altar was filled with fruits and vegetables, even rice and noodles. No matter how this had happened, it was still an abundance of offerings. Xie Lian swept the floor and took out the trash, and San Lang followed him out.
“The shrine is doing pretty well.”
Xie Lian shook his head and kept sweeping. “This was an unexpected turnout. Normally, there shouldn’t be more than one or two passersby a
month.”
“How can that be?” San Lang asked.
Xie Lian glanced at him and smiled. “This was probably thanks to your good luck.”
Saying so, he recalled that he wanted to change the door curtains, so he took out a new curtain to drape over the front entrance. He stepped back to look at his work and noticed that San Lang stood still before it.
“What’s wrong?”
San Lang stared at the curtains thoughtfully. Following his gaze, Xie Lian realized he was looking more at the seal drawn onto the fabric.
It was a seal that Xie Lian had drafted in passing before, one that was complex and imposingly well knit. Originally, it was for warding off evil and shielding from intrusions, but since it was Xie Lian himself who drew it, who knew if it might attract bad luck instead. Since there was no door though, it was still safer to have a protection ward just in case.
Seeing the boy fixed in place before the curtain with the seal, Xie Lian’s mind stirred.
He called out, “San Lang?”
Could it be that the seal had blocked San Lang out of the door, preventing him from entering the shrine?
