Xie Lian was stunned on the spot.
The young man was tall and slender, yet he was casually carrying a large bag of junk for him, making Xie Lian feel guilty.
San Lang took a few steps and was already out the door. Xie Lian was about to catch up when he remembered the old man driving the cart was still lying on it.
He went back, woke him up with a touch, and warned him not to speak of what happened that night.
The old man, having seen Xie Lian's abilities, nodded repeatedly, too scared to disagree, and hurried home with his old horse.
The only thing left on the cart was a rolled-up mat.
Xie Lian slung it over his back, and when he looked back, San Lang was already effortlessly carrying the large bag of junk up the hill with one hand.
When they reached the crooked Pugilistic Shrine, San Lang lowered his head and chuckled, as if he saw something amusing.
Xie Lian approached and saw he was looking at a sign asking for donations to repair the shrine. He cleared his throat and said, "You see, that's why I said you might not be used to living here."
San Lang replied, "It's fine."
In the past, Xie Lian was always the one telling others "it's fine," but today was the first time he heard someone say it to him.
It was a strange feeling. The original wooden door of the shrine had long rotted away, and Xie Lian had replaced it with a curtain. He lifted it and said, "Come in." San Lang followed him inside.
The small wooden house was simply furnished, with just a long offering table, two small wooden stools, a small cushion, and a donation box.
Xie Lian took the items San Lang was carrying, placed the fortune sticks, incense burner, paper, and pen on the offering table, and lit a red candle someone had casually given him while collecting junk.
The room immediately brightened. San Lang picked up the fortune sticks, shook them a bit, and put them down, asking, "So, is there a bed?"
Xie Lian turned around, silently placed the mat he was carrying on the floor, and showed it to him.
San Lang raised an eyebrow and said, "Just one?"
Xie Lian had only met this young man on his way back from town, so he hadn't thought to buy an extra one. He said, "If you don't mind, we can squeeze together tonight."
San Lang said, "That works."
Xie Lian took a broom and swept the floor again. San Lang looked around the shrine and said, "Brother Daoist, isn't there something missing in your shrine?"
Xie Lian finished sweeping and was laying out the mat as he replied, "I think other than believers, there's nothing else missing."
San Lang squatted down, resting his chin on his hand, and asked, "What about a statue?"
Only then did Xie Lian realize he had forgotten the most important thing—a statue!
A shrine without a statue, what kind of shrine is that? Even though he himself was there, he couldn't sit on the offering table every day.
After thinking for a moment, Xie Lian found a solution and said, "I bought paper and pen earlier, I'll draw a portrait tomorrow and hang it up."
Drawing his own portrait and hanging it in his own shrine—if this got out to the heavenly realm, he'd probably be laughed at for ten years. But carving a statue was costly and time-consuming, so Xie Lian chose to be laughed at.
Unexpectedly, San Lang said, "Drawing? I can do that. Want some help?"
Xie Lian was taken aback and smiled, "Thank you, but you probably can't draw the Crown Prince of Divine Joy."
After all, most of his portraits were burned eight hundred years ago, and even if some survived, not many people had seen them. But San Lang said, "Of course I can. Didn't we just talk about this Crown Prince on the cart?"
Xie Lian remembered. Indeed, they had talked about it on the way.
He had said, "You probably haven't heard of him," but San Lang hadn't replied. Now hearing him say this, Xie Lian was a bit surprised. He finished laying out the mat, stood up, and asked, "Could it be that you really know him, San Lang?"
San Lang sat on the mat and said, "I do."
The young man's expression and tone were quite interesting. He often smiled, but it was hard to tell if his smile was genuine or mocking.
Xie Lian had listened to him talk about all sorts of things along the way and was quite interested in his opinion. He sat down next to him and asked, "What do you think of this Crown Prince of Divine Joy, San Lang?"
Under the flickering candlelight, they looked at each other. San Lang had his back to the light, his black eyes hidden in shadow, making it hard to see his expression. After a moment, he said, "I think Emperor Jun Wu must really dislike him."
Xie Lian hadn't expected that answer and was taken aback. "Why do you think that?"
San Lang said, "Otherwise, why would he demote him twice?"
Hearing this, Xie Lian smiled slightly, thinking, "Such a child's perspective."
He lowered his head, slowly undoing his belt, and said, "It's not simply about liking or disliking. Many things in the world can't be explained that way."
San Lang said, "Oh."
Xie Lian turned around, took off his white boots, and added, "Besides, if you do something wrong, you should be punished. The Emperor was just doing his job both times."
San Lang was noncommittal and said, "Perhaps."
Xie Lian took off his outer robe, folded it, and was about to put it on the offering table when he noticed San Lang's gaze fixed on his foot.
That gaze was strange—cold yet burning, hot yet with a hint of coldness. Xie Lian looked down and understood.
The young man was staring at the black curse shackle on his right ankle.
The first shackle was tightly bound around his neck, and the second was firmly locked around his ankle.
Both shackles were in conspicuous places and couldn't be hidden. In the past, if anyone asked, Xie Lian would casually say they were for training. But if San Lang asked, it wouldn't be so easy to brush off.
However, San Lang just stared at his ankle for a while without saying anything. Xie Lian didn't dwell on it and lay down. The young man lay down beside him, still fully clothed, probably not used to sleeping on the floor without undressing. Xie Lian thought he should get a bed later and said, "Let's rest."
With a gentle blow, the red candle went out.
The next morning, when Xie Lian opened his eyes, San Lang was not lying beside him.
When he looked up, he was shocked. Above the offering table hung a portrait.
The portrait depicted a man in splendid clothes, wearing a golden mask, holding a sword in one hand and a flower in the other.
The brushwork was excellent, and the colors were vibrant and elegant. It was a "Portrait of the Crown Prince of Divine Joy."
Xie Lian hadn't seen this painting in many years. He stared at it for a long time before getting up, dressing, and lifting the curtain.
San Lang was outside, leaning in the shadows, twirling a broom in his hand and looking at the sky with boredom.
This young man seemed to truly dislike sunlight. The way he looked at the sky was as if he were contemplating how to drag the sun down and stomp it to pieces.
There was a pile of fallen leaves outside, all swept into a heap. Xie Lian went out and asked, "Did you sleep well last night?"
San Lang, still leaning against the wall, turned his head and said, "Not bad."
Xie Lian walked over, took the broom from his hand, and asked, "San Lang, did you draw the portrait in the shrine?"
San Lang said, "Yes."
Xie Lian said, "It's really well done."
San Lang's lips curled up slightly, but he said nothing.
Perhaps because of the way he slept, his hair was even more disheveled today, loosely tied yet looking quite good, casual but not messy, with a bit of playfulness. Xie Lian pointed to his own hair and asked, "Want me to help?"
San Lang nodded, and Xie Lian led him back into the shrine. Once San Lang sat down, Xie Lian untied his hair and discreetly examined it.
Even if the palm and fingerprints were perfect, there was always a flaw with monsters and ghosts. A living person's hair is countless, each strand distinct and clear.
Many fake bodies made by ghosts have hair that looks like a black cloud, clumped together like strips of cloth, or they simply pretend to be bald.
Having confirmed the palm and fingerprints last night, Xie Lian had let his guard down. But seeing the portrait this morning made him slightly suspicious again.
How could an ordinary person draw that picture?
However, as he gently combed through San Lang's hair, he found it long and smooth, with no abnormalities.
After a while, perhaps tickled by his touch, San Lang smiled, tilted his head slightly, and glanced at him sideways, saying, "Brother, are you helping me tie my hair, or thinking of doing something else?"
With his hair down, he looked just as handsome, but with a hint of mischief. His question seemed teasing, and Xie Lian smiled, "All done." He quickly tied San Lang's hair.
However, after finishing, San Lang glanced at a water basin nearby and raised an eyebrow at Xie Lian. Seeing this, Xie Lian coughed lightly.
The hair, which had been crooked before, was still crooked after being tied.
Although San Lang said nothing, just looked at him, Xie Lian felt he hadn't been this embarrassed in hundreds of years.
He was about to suggest redoing it when a commotion erupted outside, with voices and footsteps, followed by loud shouts: "Great Immortal!!!"
Startled, Xie Lian rushed out to see a large crowd gathered outside, all looking excited and flushed.
The village chief rushed up, grabbed his hand, and said, "Great Immortal! Our village actually has a living god, this is wonderful!!!"
Xie Lian: "???"
The other villagers surrounded him, "Great Immortal, welcome to our Pugilistic Village!"
"Great Immortal! Can you help me find a wife?!"
"Great Immortal! Can you bless my family to have a child soon?!"
"Great Immortal! I have fresh pugilistic herbs here! Want some? Can you bless me with a good harvest this year?!"
The villagers were so enthusiastic that Xie Lian was overwhelmed, backing away repeatedly, inwardly lamenting.
That old man from last night must have been a blabbermouth; despite being told not to say anything, the whole village knew by morning!
Although the villagers had no idea which deity the shrine was dedicated to, they insisted on offering incense, reasoning that any god was worth praying to.
Xie Lian had anticipated a deserted shrine with few visitors, so he had only prepared a few small bundles of incense. Unexpectedly, they were quickly snatched up, and the small incense burner was crammed full, the air thick with fragrance.
Not having smelled it in a while, Xie Lian coughed several times and said, "Cough, cough, everyone, really can't bless you with wealth, really, cough, please don't pray for money here! The consequences are unpredictable! ... Sorry, it doesn't handle marriages either... no, no, it can't bless you with children."
San Lang, unconcerned about his crooked hair, sat by the donation box, casually eating pugilistic herbs. Many village girls blushed at the sight of the young man and asked Xie Lian, "Do you have..."
Although he didn't know what they were going to ask, Xie Lian instinctively felt he had to stop them immediately and said, "No!"
Finally, the crowd dispersed, leaving offerings of fruits, vegetables, even rice and noodles on the offering table. Despite everything, it was a wave of offerings. Xie Lian swept the villagers' discarded items out of the shrine. San Lang followed him out and said, "The incense offerings are good."
Xie Lian shook his head as he swept and said, "Normally, it should be deserted for ten days or half a month."
San Lang said, "How come?"
Xie Lian glanced at him and smiled, "I guess it might be thanks to your luck, San Lang."
Saying this, he remembered he needed to change the curtain, so he took a new one from his sleeve and hung it on the door.
Stepping back to admire it, Xie Lian noticed San Lang had stopped and asked, "What's wrong?"
San Lang was staring at the curtain with a thoughtful expression. Following his gaze, Xie Lian saw he was looking at the symbols drawn on the curtain.
The symbols were drawn by Xie Lian himself, layered and imposing, meant to ward off evil and prevent intrusion by malevolent forces. However, since they were drawn by Xie Lian, they might also inadvertently attract bad luck. But since there was no door, drawing a row of symbols on the curtain seemed safer.
Seeing the young man pause before the curtain of symbols, Xie Lian's heart stirred, and he called, "San Lang?"
Could it be that with the symbols drawn, he couldn't enter anymore?