Qianyun Marsh lay silent.
Step by step, Xue Cuo climbed Goddess Peak. He passed the Golden Lotus Pool and walked through the brisk bamboo grove. At the end of the quiet path stood an ancient, solid stone temple.
Before the temple rested a three-legged golden tripod incense burner. It was the very one the Goddess had once given him. Xue Cuo respectfully lit three sticks of incense and placed them within.
Thin curls of smoke rose slowly, carrying the fresh fragrance of grass and wood.
Xue Cuo looked at the statue of the Goddess within the temple. He dropped onto a prayer cushion, propped his chin on his hand, and sat in a daze. Ever since he had fallen into the mortal world as a child, he had never again thought much about the people or events of Liuyun Peak.
Yet now, for reasons he could not explain, a trace of melancholy rose in his heart.
Perhaps it was because Ao Mu had returned to the sea. Xi Tao now wandered the world as his home. His senior brother had gone back to Liuyun Peak. Xiao Yun and Yin Feixue could not walk the same path, and he feared their clash might cost lives.
He himself stood alone, burdened with responsibilities as heavy as a thousand jun, without even a moment to breathe. Truly, every step was difficult.
While Xue Cuo was lost in these reflections, his thoughts suddenly stirred. His expression grew solemn. Closing his eyes in concentration, his true spirit glimpsed a boundless white mist. Within the mist spread broad lotus leaves and sacred golden lotuses.
A towering clay statue stood among them. Fine cracks appeared across its surface, widening little by little, while the distant roar of water grew louder.
A gentle breeze passed through. Thousands of paper offerings drifted down.
Grey fragments of clay shell fell away piece by piece, crumbling into powder and revealing the Goddess’s magnificently embroidered skirts beneath.
Xue Cuo could not help but stare in astonishment.
He knew that the Goddess’s true Dao body had long been sealed beneath the loch, bound by layers of Dao locks and gradually awakening amid the great calamity. Even so, this was the first time he had witnessed such a transformation.
His expression grew serious. “Your Ladyship?”
The statue of the Goddess remained still. Wind swept across the Golden Lotus Pool, scattering the lotus leaves and blossoms and revealing the rippling water beneath. The shimmering surface slowly formed an image.
At first the scene was pitch black. There was no sky and no earth. The land lay drowned in barren darkness. Only faint grey waves stirred upon the surface, as though the world itself slept in a silent and eternal dream.
Xue Cuo could not understand what that darkness represented. He wished to ask, but the scene changed again almost immediately.
The rippling light gathered into a vast, indistinct red. Within that overwhelming red a figure swung a sword. Countless tiny black specks shattered beneath the blade, splitting apart and transforming into threads of crimson. Those crimson threads stretched across heaven and earth, piercing sun and moon alike.
Within that vast red expanse the swordsman soared upward, leaving everything behind, ascending into the heavens and disappearing into an even deeper crimson.
Xue Cuo tried to see who it was. Yet the figure seemed disturbed by some unseen interference. The image wavered and blurred.
Xue Cuo’s heart suddenly tightened. That back looked so familiar. Yet no matter how he stared, he could not recognise who it was.
The image trembled and scattered, then slowly reassembled itself again, as though struggling against something.
All around him the white mist began to flow rapidly. In an instant every lotus within the Golden Pool burst into bloom, stabilising the water and forming a new image.
A single lotus flower blossomed within the blood-red light. It shattered into countless points of brilliance.
Within those points the red slowly faded away. Black, white, and grey returned to the world once more.
The remaining golden motes transformed into golden butterflies. They struggled desperately, yet could not withstand the devastation. Amid their struggle they suddenly shattered.
The Golden Pool trembled violently.
It seemed that another image was about to appear, yet something obstructed it, preventing it from taking shape.
Lotus leaves withered one after another. The Goddess’s statue gave a heavy snort, and the power protecting Xue Cuo’s true spirit sent it swiftly back into his body.
Xue Cuo opened his eyes, drenched in sweat. He immediately tried to recall the scenes he had just witnessed, yet apart from a splitting headache he remembered nothing at all.
The torment of not knowing left him utterly dispirited. His eyes grew distant as he muttered quietly, “Your Ladyship, this is even worse than knowing nothing.”
“Forget it. I am not going anywhere. I shall simply lie in the temple until I grow old.”
The moment the words left his mouth, he suddenly jumped up as though pricked by needles.
“Ow, ow!” Clutching his backside, he looked around in bewilderment and rubbed the ground with his foot. There was nothing there.
He sighed miserably. “Alright, alright. I will go out.”
He hopped out of the temple and sat beside the Golden Pool, pondering the vision again and again, yet still unable to grasp its meaning. Only a faint premonition lingered in his heart.
The feeling was unusual. Perhaps in some future crisis it would leave him a narrow path of survival.
Xue Cuo solemnly offered incense to the Goddess once more.
He walked several steps down the mountain, then scratched his head and quietly crept back into the temple, poking his head through the doorway.
“Your Ladyship,” he muttered, “I am afraid peace will be hard to find for me from now on. Let me sleep properly just this once.”
Having decided, he grabbed a prayer cushion as a pillow and flopped down beside the statue, resting his head on his arm before falling asleep.
The light inside the temple dimmed. Layer upon layer of lotus leaves swayed in the wind, forming a gentle rhythm. Outside the courtyard the wind and thunderclouds were veiled by white mist, leaving only a pocket of quiet stillness.
From the jade vase on the table a lotus leaf slowly slipped free. The leaf trembled lightly and transformed into a thin blanket, settling over the sleeping young man.
After an unknown length of time, Xue Cuo finally woke.
He yawned widely, stretched, then rose to his feet. Outside the temple he plucked a cloud from the sky, rolled it into a cushion, tucked it beneath his backside, and drifted down the mountain.
After that descent he did not enter the temple again for a full year.
Qianyun Marsh lay in ruins and urgently needed rebuilding, yet manpower was desperately scarce. How this Dao should rise again, like the first swing of an axe to clear a mountain path, required careful thought upon thought.
Xue Cuo sent paper cranes to invite Ren Shu and Xuan Zhao to discuss the matter. Not long afterwards Ren Shu appeared at the door, travel-worn and dusty, bringing with him the population register of Qianyun Marsh.
Xue Cuo had only just begun to examine it when a harsh voice suddenly erupted outside, brimming with fury. “Xue Cuo!”
Xue Cuo hurried out to greet him. “Master Xuan!”
Xuan Zhao, a three-inch clay figurine, leapt up in fury and began thumping Xue Cuo’s knee while shouting indignantly.
“You wretched boy, Xue Cuo! You disappeared without a word and left me with that disaster of a golden dragon. I was trapped underwater in darkness without daylight. Today I have come to settle the score with you!”
Xue Cuo turned to Ren Shu in astonishment. “That happened as well?”
Ren Shu could not help laughing at the way Xue Cuo kept winking and throwing furtive glances. Even his clay face could hardly keep a straight expression. Rubbing his forehead, he said, “Enough of this. There are troubles within and dangers without, and calamities run rampant everywhere. Master Xuan and Xiaocuo clearly care about one another, so stop squabbling.”
“Who cares about him!” Xuan Zhao immediately retorted. He climbed onto a chair and sat there sulking by himself. “That brat has no sense of loyalty.”
Xue Cuo coughed twice, lifted his robe and sat down. Composing himself, he said to Ren Shu and Xuan Zhao, “Actually, I invited Ren Shu-gege and Master Xuan here today because I have something important to discuss.”
Ren Shu grew thoughtful and exchanged a glance with Xuan Zhao. “Very well. Go on.”
Xue Cuo weighed his words. Though there was some concern in his expression, there was even more calmness and confidence.
“I wish to reopen a Daoist seat for the Xianghuo Divine Dao and establish a new sect.”
Ren Shu’s pupils shrank slightly, then his face lit up with joy. He suddenly sprang to his feet and exclaimed “Good!” three times in succession. Unable to contain himself, he began pacing back and forth, striking his fist against his palm.
“I have waited three whole years for you to say that!”
“The Xianghuo Divine Dao is a dead end, a road cut off from every direction. Yet now all the other paths are flourishing again. The Water Clan has Ao Mu. The demon race has Kong Yun. Buddhism has Xi Tao. The blade path has Yin Feixue. Only our Xianghuo Divine Dao is still fighting amongst itself, lacking a guide to lead the way.”
“This Dao requires someone of great virtue and prestige. No one fits that role better than you.”
Before Xue Cuo could speak, Xuan Zhao suddenly jumped up. Slapping his clay thigh, he glared furiously.
“Ren Shu, you had better speak with some conscience! If we talk about age, this old man has lived eighteen thousand years. Add the years since my death and that makes twenty six thousand. Calling me ‘virtuous and prestigious’ is hardly excessive. As for qualifications, back in the day I even fought his family’s Goddess. She beat me for three days and three nights before I finally begged for mercy. Is that not impressive enough?”
Xue Cuo clapped his hands. “Master Xuan is truly mighty. I merely offer a humble suggestion to inspire discussion. I would gladly follow Master Xuan’s lead.”
Xuan Zhao choked and began stamping his feet in anger. “None of that nonsense! I only argued over the words ‘virtuous and prestigious’, yet you immediately try to shirk responsibility and push everything onto me. Hmph. This old man is not a fool. Besides, my strength is not what it once was. If a goddess were to take a fancy to me, I would not put a single one of them in my eyes.”
Xue Cuo spat out a mouthful of tea and choked until his face twisted. “Master Xuan, that habit of speaking without restraint of yours…”
A sudden clap of thunder exploded overhead. The bolt came out of a clear sky and caught Xuan Zhao completely off guard. With lightning speed he shrank into his turtle shell, trembling violently.
Xue Cuo pointed upward. “Master Xuan, Her Ladyship might be watching.”
From inside the shell Xuan Zhao muttered a stream of muffled words. Xue Cuo could not understand any of it, and he chose not to tease him further. Instead he continued explaining his plans.
“When the Divine Dao fell in the past, Her Ladyship was implicated as well. The title ‘Goddess of the Great Loch’ can no longer be used. However, that Dao title accords with heavenly destiny. It would be a pity to abandon it entirely. I therefore intend to take two characters from it.”
Ren Shu asked, “Which two characters?”
Xue Cuo did not answer. Instead he stood, took brush and paper, and wrote several large characters. Ren Shu read them aloud one by one. “Qianyun Marsh. Xianghuo Dao Altar. Goddess Temple.”
Xue Cuo set down the brush. The strokes of the characters were sharp and spirited.
“To the east stands Wendao Palace, leader of the immortal path. Favoured by heaven, it has dominated for ten thousand years without decline. Today I take the three characters ‘Goddess Temple’. May our Dao flourish alongside the myriad paths and restore the great age when a hundred flowers bloomed together.”
Ren Shu smiled. “Excellent. The Goddess Temple of Qianyun Marsh shall become the foremost sect of the Xianghuo Divine Dao.”
Xue Cuo smiled faintly. Lifting his brush again, he drew a talisman and then took out the Qiankun Bowl from his storage ring.
The bowl looked completely ordinary, but the moment it touched the talisman it transformed into a streak of light that shot into the sky and hovered in the unseen void. A pale golden radiance spread outward, covering the entirety of Qianyun Marsh and forming an impregnable mountain protecting formation.
He picked up the sparrow feather brush again and moved it like a flying dragon. In one breath he drew twenty one talismans and flicked his sleeve to ignite them.
Suddenly pools of water appeared throughout the marsh, large and small. Their waters were deep and clear, and threads of cold mist rose from their surfaces.
Black cavalry spirits invisible to mortal eyes leapt from the pools, patrolling the area and escorting away lingering ghosts.
Chen Zongping leapt out from one of the pools. Straightening his bracers, he strode forward and cupped his fists in a deep bow. “Eldest Shixiong!”
Xue Cuo nodded and handed him a written talisman decree. “From today onward, the escorting of souls to reincarnation within Qianyun Marsh is entrusted to the Tribunal of Judging Spirits, independent from the Heavenly Dao Reincarnation Office. With this decree in hand, within Qianyun Marsh the Great Dao itself will answer your command.”
Clad in armour and gripping his weapon, Chen Zongping replied in a solemn voice that rang like thunder. “Chen Zongping swears not to disgrace this trust!”
As soon as he finished speaking, the Qiankun Bowl began spinning rapidly, forming a subtle mystical connection. Within Qianyun Marsh he had become the guide who ferried souls to the afterlife.
Chen Zongping’s heart surged with emotion. He would never disappoint his senior brother. The countless spirits of the underworld were watching him. So too was Ah Zhu-shijie.
Xue Cuo turned his head toward Ren Shu. Ren Shu smiled faintly. Xue Cuo handed him the second talisman decree.
“From today onward, all governance, mortal affairs, and divine rites within Qianyun Marsh are entrusted to you. With this decree in hand, within Qianyun City no mortal, spirit, ghost, or nether soldier will dare disobey.”
Ren Shu drew a deep breath and accepted the decree. His body trembled slightly as he sensed the mysterious surge of fate and fortune flowing through it. Looking steadily at Xue Cuo, he said,
“I swear I will not fail this trust.”
With all political matters entrusted to Ren Shu, Xue Cuo did not trouble himself in the slightest. He also placed all the aquatic demons of the marsh under Xuan Zhao’s command, a task that suited him perfectly well.
And just as the Dao altar was newly established, great turmoil erupted in the mortal world.
