Ch.13: Maple-Red Clothes; Snow-White Skin

Of course, those were the 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.

Just what? He couldn’t possibly say Hua Cheng only just hijacked his sedan, held his hand, and

strolled with him in the woods?

Xie Lian reorganized his thoughts and said, “He broke Xuan Ji’s spiritual array at Mount Yujun

and took me inside.”

A wave of muttering swept through the crowd.

After a while, an official asked, “What do you all think of this?”

Just from the voice alone, Xie Lian could imagine how the various officials looked as they shook

their heads and opened their palms.

“WHO KNOWS??!?”

“NO ONE KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS! HE’S PLAYING WITH US!”

“What the hell 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

Hua Cheng 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 mayor was so overwhelmed with grief over the death of his daughter that he

didn’t actually remember to recompense prayers until much later, and the merits were

discounted. Yet somehow, a little bit here, a little bit there, and a lot of oversight everywhere,

Xie Lian was somehow able to repay the eight million, eight hundred and eighty thousand

merits.

Xie Lian was at last debt-free! Feeling light and high-spirited, Xie Lian decided he’d now focus

on being a good god, and it would be great if he could make acquaintances or friends with other

heavenly officials. Although the heavenly 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’s really quite interesting.”

“I read this pleasant verse in passing, and thought I’d share with everyone.”

“Here’s an effective 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. Until finally, Ling Wen couldn’t take it anymore

and told him privately:

“Your Highness, the things you’re sharing in the communication array are 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 old

man 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. Until now, 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 just build my own

shrine!”

No one knew how to respond to this.

What kind of god would build his own temple to worship himself?? It was pure tragedy at this

point.

No matter. Xie Lian was used to receiving awkward silence the moment he spoke, and thought

amusing himself wasn’t anyone’s business anyway. It would make for an entertaining anecdote,

too, so he jumped back to the mortal realm.

This time, he landed in a small village in the mountains called Puqi24.

24 “Puqi” means “water chestnut”.

Rather than a village, it was more like a hillside hamlet. With green trees and clear waters, it

was a pleasant country scene with continuous stretches of rice paddies. With such beautiful

scenery, Xie Lian thought he landed in a really good place this time. There was a small,

dilapidated shack on a hill, and upon asking around, Xie Lian learned that it was a decrepit

place that no one lived in anymore. Once in a while, a vagrant would sleep a night in it, so the

villagers told him to make himself at home. Well, wasn’t that just perfect for him? Xie Lian

walked towards the shack.

As Xie Lian walked closer, he realized that the shack looked decrepit from afar, but it was

literally crumbling on closer inspection. 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

acceptance. 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 watched 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 in front of the

doorsteps and munched on his water chestnuts, then put his hands together, 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 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 junk 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!”

“What about Ling Wen-Jun? 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 Yang25.”

“...”

If Xie Lian really built a Ju Yang Shrine, Feng Xin would probably shoot him dead on the spot

with an arrow.

After roughly cleaning 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 put on his bamboo hat and stepped foot 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

out a sign out front: Please kindly donate to the renovation of this shrine for accumulation of

good merits.

Xie Lian went on his little journey and entered town. To do what? To eat, and do what he did

best.

In fairytales, 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 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 with just collecting junk. In

comparison, building a shrine cost him money, while collecting junk made him money; so

ultimately, truly, collecting junk was better than ascension.

Xie Lian had the looks and grace of a saint, so he even got the upper hand when collecting junk.

It took him almost no time to collect a giant bag of scraps. On the way back, he saw an old ox

25 “Ju Yang” means “Gigantic Masculinity”.

cart that was piled high with hay. The cart seemed to look like one he saw before, from Puqi

Village, so it should be going the same way as him. He asked for a ride, and the cart driver tilted

his chin to signal him to get on. Carrying a 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 up over his right. It

seemed as though he was lying there with his arms pillowing 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 out of some animal’s pelt.

“This is probably the son of some aristocrat coming out to play,” he thought.

The cart shook as it drove. 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 study up a bit. The cart rattled and time passed. Looking up, they were

traversing through 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 give a slight start.

A long time ago, in his youth, when he cultivated at the Royal Holy Pavillion, 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, alright,” 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 drawled, “People naturally love saying that all gods

are equal and all beings are equal, but if that was true, then all those different gods wouldn’t

even exist.”

Xie Lian looked at the young boy, who was still languishing there without showing any intention

to get up. The boy had probably interrupted out of boredom. “You’re probably right,” Xie Lian smiled and said.

Xie Lian returned to his scroll and continued reading.

“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 the description of a god or a ghost.

Xie Lian shook his head. He couldn’t bear to read on 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 info on the Water Master.

“The Water Master Wudu: controls water and wealth. Most merchants have a Water Master

shrine in their stores and homes to pray for abundant wealth.”

Xie Lian thought it strange. “How does the God of Water relate to wealth?”

The youth behind the hay responded, “Merchants use the waters to transport goods, so they

always pray to the Water Master for peace and safety, promising this or that. After a while, the

Water Master became the God of Wealth.”

A pro was giving him answers. Xie Lian turned around.

”Really? Interesting. The Water Master must be very powerful then.”

The youth smiled mockingly. “Yeah, the infamous ‘Water Tyrant’.”

Hearing his tone, Xie Lian didn’t think the boy thought highly of that heavenly official. It didn’t

sound like he was complimenting him either.

“The ‘Water Tyrant’?”

The youth replied languidly, “It all depends on him whether a ship can sail. No offerings, no sail.

That’s how he received that nickname. Kinda like General Ju Yang and the Sweeping General.”

Infamous gods usually had a nickname or two in between the realms; for example, Xie Lian was

known as the Laughingstock of the Three Realms, the Infamous Freak; the Jinx, the Outcast,

cough, cough, 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 what not to call the Water Master, and said, “I see. Thanks so

much for your enlightenment.” He stopped and thought 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.”

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 kindness 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 just driving through the forest of flaming red maples, where maple leaves were

dancing 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.”

TBC

*hope you enjoy see you soon*

2919 words :)

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