"Spark!"
Sparks flew in the air. The sword blade was thrust deep into the stone-paved ground. Xie Lian held the sword with both hands, his head lowering until his forehead pressed against the sword hilt, his teeth gritting so hard it seemed they might crush against each other.
"Useless!"
Qi Rong laughed heartily, "You useless thing! I knew you wouldn't dare kill me! No matter how I humiliate you or torment you, as long as I hold a knife to someone else's neck, you can't do anything to me. You're such a cowardly god, why are you even alive!"
However, Xie Lian had completely calmed down. He raised his head, eyes cold, "Don't be too happy. If I can't deal with you, naturally someone else can."
Qi Rong snorted, "Are you planning to cling to Jun Wu's leg and ask him to stand up for you again? Dream on. Did he stand by you back then? Huh? You're still clinging to him now; you're such a fool."
Xie Lian stripped off the lavish ceremonial attire from Qi Rong, summoned Ruoye, tied Qi Rong up and tossed him aside, saying, "You better shut up."
Qi Rong said, "I'm not afraid of you, why should I listen to your threats?"
Xie Lian said, "Are you not afraid of Hua Cheng?"
For a moment, Qi Rong's smile froze. In that moment, Xie Lian softly said, "I'll warn you now, if I ever feel bad, I might just hand you over to Hua Cheng and let him come up with something to punish you. So you'd better be careful, got it?"
Qi Rong was at a loss for words. Alarmed, he said, "You're vicious, damn you! You'd rather hand me to Lang Qianqiu!"
Xie Lian knelt on the ground and began picking up the rough particles on the ground and in the coffin bit by bit. Actually, he wasn't planning to hand Qi Rong over to the Heavenly Court just yet. The reason was Lang Qianqiu. If he handed Qi Rong over, Lang Qianqiu would rush over with his sword to kill him. Should he let him kill? Headache; if not, what next? Headache again. So, handing him over to the Heavenly Court was not an option for now.
Thinking it over, asking Hua Cheng for help seemed like a good choice. But in truth, he only used Hua Cheng's name to scare Qi Rong. He had already disturbed Hua Cheng too many times, thinking of him first whenever something happened, making him feel quite embarrassed. Just using his name to frighten Qi Rong already made Xie Lian feel uncomfortable.
Qi Rong turned and spat a mouthful of blood-tinged saliva in another direction. A small child reached out sadly to touch his forehead, saying, "Father, are you alright? Does it hurt a lot?"
Qi Rong seemed to enjoy this father-son game, saying in a strange tone, "Good son~ Daddy's alright~ Hahaha."
Xie Lian continued gathering the powdery mess on the ground into the ceremonial garment while his eyes reddened. The child crawled over quietly, helping Xie Lian pick up a bit more. Xie Lian looked at the pair of small hands, then up at the boy, who whispered, "Brother, can you stop hitting my dad and let us go? We won't come to your house to steal anymore."
Xie Lian's heart ached, but he held it in, asking, "Little friend, what's your name?"
The child replied, "My name is Gu Zi."
Xie Lian gathered all the ashes, wrapped them in the attire, carefully placed them back in the coffin, sealing it shut, and slowly said, "Gu Zi, that person isn't really your father; he's possessed by a ghost and is now a bad guy."
However, the child couldn't understand, confusedly responding, "Another person? No, I recognize him, that's my dad."
Qi Rong commended, “Not bad, not bad, got myself a cheap son! Hahaha…” But Xie Lian kicked him to shut him up.
Gu Zi, still very young and having relied heavily on his father, wouldn’t leave Qi Rong's possessed body. Xie Lian, unsure of how to handle this matter yet, took the Fangxin sword, bowed three times deeply before the two coffins, then carried Qi Rong in one hand and Gu Zi in the other, racing towards Pugilistic Village at top speed.
It was well into the night by the time he returned after several days. The doors of Pugilistic Shrine were wide open, incense smoke billowing. The altar was piled with offerings.
Xie Lian entered, took a glance around, and randomly grabbed a couple of steamed buns from the altar, handing one to Gu Zi and forcibly cramming the other into Qi Rong's mouth. In reality, this body was still a living human, so until he figured out how to exorcise Qi Rong, the body needed to be fed.
Qi Rong spat out bun crumbs, cursing the taste loudly, and said hesitantly, “You’re not really going to hand me over to Hua Cheng, are you?”
Xie Lian sneered, “Are you scared?” Tired of listening to his nonsense, he rummaged through the pile of preserved vegetable jars on the ground. Qi Rong, stubborn as ever, said, “What’s to be afraid of, you should be worried yourself, mingling with that Supreme. You…” As he spoke, his gaze suddenly fixed. When Xie Lian bent over, something slipped from his chest.
It was a crystal-clear ring. Qi Rong was staring precisely at that ring.
Xie Lian remained unaware of his gaze. Qi Rong, looking suspicious, watched him for a moment before asking, “Cousin Crown Prince, what is that thing on your chest?”
Xie Lian, not intending to pay him any heed, finally turned around, hooking a finger through the fine silver chain. “This? Do you know what it is?”
Qi Rong replied, “If you bring it to me, I can tell.”
Xie Lian dismissed him, “If you know, just say so. Otherwise, keep quiet.”
Qi Rong sneered, “You always act tough with those you’re familiar with; why don’t you try that arrogance outside?”
Xie Lian tucked the chain back under his clothes, next to his skin, saying, “In that case, continue speaking. Each word you say brings you a step closer to Hua Cheng’s blade.”
Unknowingly, he had grown very accustomed to using Hua Cheng’s name. Qi Rong chuckled coldly, “Stop trying to scare me with him, you might end up dying under someone's blade yourself! You want to know what this is, don’t you? Being one of the Four Calamities, I can tell you it's a cursed item, an ominous thing! If you don’t throw it away quickly, how dare you keep it on you, aren’t you afraid of dying?”
Xie Lian stood up suddenly, “Really?”
Qi Rong snickered, “Nonsense! Whoever gave you this, be it human or ghost, surely harbors ill intent.”
Xie Lian squatted back down, muttering, “Oh.”
Qi Rong snapped, “What do you mean 'Oh'?!”
Xie Lian, without turning, replied coolly, “'Oh' means it would be a ghost if your words were credible. I choose to trust the person who gave this to me. I decided to keep wearing it.”
Towards others, he was always gentle, but towards Qi Rong, his demeanor remained exceptionally cold. Qi Rong was fuming, cursing continuously, but Xie Lian ignored him entirely. He felt something was missing as he searched for the jar containing Half Moon, musing, “Did the Wind Master already take her away?”
The more he listened, the more he sensed something was amiss.
Curiously enough, Qi Rong was obviously terrified of Hua Cheng, so why did he keep provoking him as if trying to draw attention?
Realizing this, Xie Lian suddenly attacked, glancing abruptly at Qi Rong, catching a glimpse of something sneaky. Instinctively, he looked up. Hanging from the ceiling was a figure cloaked in black, clinging like an enormous bat.
Reversing direction, Xie Lian sent Fangxin sword flying upwards. The figure rolled to dodge the strike, causing it to plummet.
Gu Zi wailed loudly, dropping his bun. Qi Rong was about to shout but was gagged by Ruoye and dragged to a corner for binding. Initially thinking this was an ambush set by Qi Rong, Xie Lian quickly realized the skill and agility were unusually familiar. After exchanging a few quick moves, recognizing that a person of Qi Rong's caliber could never control such a skilled hand, he saw the cloaked figure holding something else. Upon closer inspection, it was a dark jar — the very one containing Half Moon!
Had the Wind Master not managed to take Half Moon away? Recognizing who the figure was, Xie Lian blurted, “Little Pei!”
Caught in the awkward situation of being discovered while trying to steal Half Moon, Pei Su had no choice but to try hiding atop the roof. Qi Rong, being tied to the ground, immediately spotted Pei Su overhead. Without knowing who it was, he assumed it was an enemy of Xie Lian, hence an ally for himself.
He had tried his utmost to divert Xie Lian’s gaze, but even so, Xie Lian detected the lurking presence. Though Xie Lian was wearing two curse shackles and Pei Su was exiled, neither wielded spiritual power, forcing them into a sheer contest of martial prowess.
Here, Xie Lian excelled, having refined his martial skills over the past eight hundred years, whereas Pei Su couldn’t withstand him and was subdued within a dozen moves.
“Return the jar!”
Xie Lian gave a casual shout, thinking Pei Su would be stubborn, but unexpectedly, Pei Su obediently returned the jar, making him pause in surprise. Why was Little Pei so straightforward, he wondered, expecting some resistance or struggle instead. As Pei Su tossed the jar back, he quietly urged, “Quick, go!”
The urgency in his voice carried genuine concern. The jar flew in an unexpected trajectory, heading for the window. Suddenly, a man's voice, imbued with disappointment, swept through the air, "You’ve let me down."
Pei Su was visibly shaken, uttering, "...General!"
Xie Lian and Pei Su rushed out of Pugilistic Shrine. There, standing on a rooftop, was Pei Ming. Clad not in armor but in casual attire, he exuded an aura reminiscent of the morning sun, full of grace. The jar hovered beside Pei Ming, unmoving, as he grasped the sword at his waist. Addressing Pei Su below, he spoke, "A man shoulders heavy responsibilities; great affairs come first. You aim to achieve greatness, yet what of your actions now, recklessly disrupting for the sake of a mere girl? Do you presume yourself a green youth uninformed of this world?”
Pei Su remained silent, head bowed. Pei Ming continued, “Reaching your current standing within two centuries isn’t something easily achieved. The path has been paved; descending is easy, but ascending again is no simple matter!”
The higher you go, the colder it becomes. Normally, any deity descending from the heavens preferred standing at the highest point to oversee the world below. Xie Lian had that habit too — but after a fall, he now feared heights, recalling pain upon standing on high places, breaking that habit. However, the highest structure in Pugilistic Village was merely the village chief’s modest house, thus Pei Ming’s current standing there was quite modest indeed.
Nonetheless, this wasn't the crux of the matter. The key was, upon seeing this scene, Xie Lian immediately understood the situation. Last time, Pei Ming attempted to implicate Half Moon to exonerate Pei Su, only to have that plan foiled.
Despite appearing to have relinquished the scheme, he hadn't truly given up. Now, with Xie Lian enmeshed in scandals like the Gilded Banquet debacle, his reputation surely plummeted, leading Pei Ming to feel the time ripe to reopen the case.
Thus, he'd sought out Pei Su, aiming to escort him and Half Moon back to the Heavenly Court once more, relentlessly pursuing the reversal of the verdict. Nevertheless, Pei Su seemed unenthusiastic, eventually sighing, “General, let this matter...be undone.”
"You...!"
Pei Ming’s face flushed in sheer exasperation, exclaiming as if lamenting stone-headedness. Uncharacteristically perturbed, ignoring even Xie Lian's presence whilst berating Pei Su, moments later he abruptly declared, “I must see what kind of extraordinary lady has rendered my efforts fruitless!” He reached to break the jar. This method of unsealing it was not an issue ordinarily, but if Half Moon hadn't recovered, smashing it could spell disaster. Alarmed, Xie Lian lunged forward, exclaiming, “Don’t!”
Unexpectedly, even before Pei Ming could touch it, the jar exploded with an echoing bang.
Instantly, the air filled with the overwhelming stench of fermented vegetables.
Caught unawares, Pei Ming was drenched in the unappealing pickled storm, dumbfounded amidst the salty deluge. Suddenly, a bright, clear woman's voice resonated from above, “General Pei, aren’t you forthright!”
From the tiny jar emerged a white-clad figure, initially the size of a fist, who expanded in spirals, growing larger with each circle. Fixated on them, Xie Lian shouted, “Wind Master!”
Rather than Half Moon, concealed within the pickled jar was Shi Qingxuan. Seizing the opportunity, she unleashed a culinary catastrophe on Pei Ming, yet remained untouched herself, cascading to the ground elegantly, her garments snowy-white, unblemished. Waving her horsetail whisk, she remarked, “Fortuitously, I moved the girl earlier, else General Pei’s long reach wouldn’t let her escape.”
Pei Ming prided himself as debonair, considering poise paramount regardless of the act. Yet, draped in the pungent tang of pickles, even in front of the female Shi Qingxuan, maintaining composure tested anyone's restraint. “Qingxuan, why contend with me to such extent?”
Were it anyone else, he’d likely resort to a beating — alas, reflecting upon Shi Qingxuan’s brother’s formidable standing, he merely dusted off and realigned his hair, aching with irritation, shook his head, “...you, just you wait, better keep the girl’s whereabouts hidden from me, lest I come calling.”
His remark implicitly challenged those sheltering Half Moon — they would meet reprisal, he implied. Shi Qingxuan clapped, unfazed, “Sure, very well, revealing it poses no issue. Only question is, do you dare visit? Listen carefully — the girl now resides in Rain Dragon Mountain, in the Rain Master’s abode, beneath Rain Master’s auspices! Do you dare approach?”
Visibly, Pei Ming faltered, his prior confidence shaken. Restraining his expression, he grew solemn, remarking, “Qingxuan, youthful enthusiasm drives you to champion justice indiscriminately. One hopes, upon reflection, you won’t rue today’s actions!”
Finishing, he bounded from the roof, disappearing swiftly. Xie Lian stood, puzzled, instinctively deciphering deeper meanings in Pei Ming’s parting words with Shi Qingxuan, inquiring, "Wind Master, that final remark of his...?"
Utterly unconcerned, Shi Qingxuan shrugged, “Posturing. Nothing more.”
Watching Pei Ming's figure diminish, Pei Su at last approached, respectfully addressing them both. “Wind Master, Crown Prince.”
Patting him amiably, Shi Qingxuan said, “Ah, Little Pei, you intervened to stop your General this time, quite honorable of you. Keep reforming yourself down below. I’ll speak favorably on your behalf in the Heaven’s Court when an opportunity arises, rest assured!”
Pei Su hesitated, then, "Thank you, Master. However, I often feel you misunderstand, General Pei doesn’t usually behave this way, it's concerns from the past, overworried about me. Besides, you’re aware, the Rain Master…”
Ultimately, he deemed himself over-verbose, shaking his head, saluting, “Farewell.”
The pair watched him depart. Xie Lian resumed, "Wind Master, the Rain Master you mentioned earlier, is it Rain Master Huang?"
Turning towards him, Shi Qingxuan replied, “Precisely. The Rain Master has remained unchanged for centuries. Do you two know each other?”
Xie Lian responded gently, “Though I've yet to meet, the Rain Master has once shown me kindness, something for which I am forever grateful.”
A smile spreading, Shi Qingxuan said, “Of course. Though few know the Rain Master, to those who do, never a bad word — except perhaps, Pei Ming.”
Xie Lian inquired, "Is there a grudge between them?"
Shi Qingxuan replied, “Certainly. Spend enough time in the Heavenly Court, and everyone develops grudges or alliances. Rain Master, a deep shadow in Pei Ming’s heart.”
"...A shadow?" Xie Lian murmured to himself, inexplicably picturing the Rain Master as a pastoral figure.
Shi Qingxuan noted, “You know Pei Ming, he’s extended his lineage immensely, left descendants everywhere. Prior to Little Pei, Bright Light Hall had another Subordinate God, whom he named and promoted.”
Xie Lian marveled, “Pei General’s descendants must indeed be exceptional!”
After all, not every family claims ascension as a cultural tradition. Shi Qingxuan fanned himself, “Talented indeed, but also sharing Pei Ming’s nature — great skills and great flaws. The former deputy frequently caused trouble wherever driven, standing undeterred by Pei Ming’s influence, until one day, trouble struck at a former Rain Master kingdom.
“Though confined to remote farming, Rain Master Huang, aptly titled ‘Mountain Hermit Agriculturist Rain Master Huang,’ emerged unassumingly, yet beat and caught Pei Ming’s progeny, hauling them to the Emperor for judgment, securing a sentence of exile.”
Xie Lian thought, “Intriguingly reminiscent.”
Shi Qingxuan continued, “Initially, Pei Ming reckoned exile would suffice — resurrecting them in another century posed no threat. However, within the physical realm, much transpires in a century. Daily, monthly, prodigious figures evolve, ephemeral as lanterns, wave upon successive wave. Within just a decade, the former believers changed allegiance to other deities; fifty years later, that minor deity faded into obscurity; by century’s end, no revival. A young prodigy simply extinguished, vanished. Only with Little Pei’s emergence did Pei Ming discover another capable partner.”
No wonder Pei General played all his cards in bringing in Little Pei, fearing a repeat demise of promise following precedent, ill-advised as the move may have been. Pondering reflectively, Xie Lian sighed softly, “The world.”
Shi Qingxuan concurred, “Indeed, long exposure wears away vigor and spirit.”
Each nodded accordingly. Differently, Xie Lian nodded inadvertently, while Shi Qingxuan's nodding was animatedly voluntary. Suddenly, Xie Lian recalled someone vitally important, bursting out, “...Lang Ying! That child!”
A rapid succession of events buried Lang Ying from his mind. Shi Qingxuan responded, “You mean the child you brought from the Elysium Pavilion? That child was seen by the Emperor himself, presently safe with me, I’ll bring him down shortly.”
Xie Lian, reminded of the tied-up Qi Rong and another child back in Pugilistic Shrine, fretted over exposing them to others, countering, “How could I impose, better I return upstairs myself.”
Shi Qingxuan nodded enthusiastically, “Either way. Mid-Autumn Festival draws near, an annual celebration not to be missed. My elder sibling will attend, allow me to introduce you.”
Pride for a sibling exuded plainly, amusing Xie Lian to smile, thinking, “The Mid-Autumn Feast...”
Every Mid-Autumn Festivity culminates with a grand banquet of the celestial gods, the spectacle of human celebration reenforced from above. Yet, the feast also bears a significant “game,” an enduring tradition known as the highlight of the Mid-Autumn Gala — the "Lantern Duel."
A prayer lantern is no ordinary offering. At the Mid-Autumn Feast, gods compete in the Lantern Duel, gauging on the night of the festival how many prayer lamps each receives in their respective domains.
Though words dismissively claim, “Oh, it’s just a game,” or “Don’t take it seriously, just for fun, I don’t care,” truthfully, who partakes without seeking victory? Within, many subtly strive to gain esteem from their followers. Among these gods, if anyone truly doesn’t fight for it, it’s none other than Jun Wu, for every year, God Martial Palace triumphs overwhelmingly, each time surpassing itself, treating the Lantern Duel solely as amusement. Other divinities battle not for first, but for second, intensity palpable.
At its zenith, incense permeated Divine Joy Palace, radiating amidst the festival, contesting alongside God Martial Hall, eclipsing all deities in grandeur. Yet now, it would likely appear disheartening. Xie Lian refrained from guessing, guaranteeing Divine Joy Palace's tally of praying lamps — absolutely none!