I Came to This World to Forge the Divine Way

At first light, Wang Er carried incense and offerings beneath the great willow tree to worship. Having learned his lesson this time, he trembled with every movement. The moment he planted the incense, he hurriedly knelt and kowtowed, his head striking the ground with loud bangs. Though he was the Land God's worshipper, he actually split his scalp open, blood streaming down.

As he prayed, his vision suddenly flashed, and he arrived somewhere else. Looking closely, he found himself in a great hall.

Fang Ming sat in the center, dressed in a registrar's official robes. His every glance shone with authority, and he possessed a most imposing bearing. Two figures stood at either side of him—the black-and-white Evil Ghosts from last night's dream. Wang Er's legs immediately went weak. He collapsed to his knees and cried, "Mercy, Grandfather! This lowly one knows his mistake! I'll never dare again!"

Fang Ming smiled faintly. "Are those words sincere?"

Wang Er kowtowed like a pounding pestle. "Sincere! Completely sincere!"

"Seeing that you intend to repent, I will not seize you and drag you below tonight. Your punishment shall be to build this god a temple and mold a divine body for me. Do you accept willingly?"

Wang Er cried bitterly, "This lowly one's family is poor. I fear I cannot manage it. I beg the honored god for mercy."

Fang Ming said, "The temple need not be large. A little over ten feet will do. Though a divine body is precious, a clay statue will suffice. Do you understand?"

How could Wang Er dare refuse now? He gratefully gave thanks. "Many thanks, honored god. I will certainly build a temple for you."

The instant he finished speaking, his vision flashed again, and he returned beneath the willow tree. Knowing the miracle just now had been real, he hastily kowtowed again. Once he had completed every rite of worship, he rushed back to the village to prepare for the temple's construction. Fang Ming smiled to himself. The five threads of Divine Power he had spent had not gone to waste. Wang Er's vital energy had already weakened, and he was terrified of Fang Ming, which was why Fang Ming had been able to use the technique of sending a dream in broad daylight. Before long, he would have both a temple and a divine body. The thought filled him with delight.

In the blink of an eye, it was already the fourteenth day of the third month.

A tiny Land God Temple now stood beneath the willow tree. It was only a little over ten feet square, yet exquisitely made. Within stood a clay idol dressed in a registrar's official robes, its face bearing a three-part resemblance to Fang Ming.

After Fang Ming used his methods to deal with Wang Er, the villagers grew even more reverent toward the Land God. Incense before the temple never ceased, and people often came to worship.

Fang Ming stood inside the temple, surveying his surroundings with great satisfaction.

The day Wang Er returned home, he immediately began preparing to build the temple. He knew a little carpentry, so he found some good timber and set to work at once.

He also spent ten copper coins to hire the village mason to make the statue. He remembered only three parts of Fang Ming's face, but the registrar's official robes had left an exceptionally deep impression on him.

The official ranks of the Great Qian Empire were divided into nine grades and eighteen levels. Beneath them were unranked clerks, divided into four classes: registrars, administrative clerks, magistrate's clerks, and laborers.

In a county, the registrar was the head of all clerks and held immense power. If he joined hands with the six bureaus, he could practically reduce the county magistrate to a figurehead. Moreover, the post could be inherited, while a county magistrate served only a three-year term. Thus, in the countryside, many people might not recognize the county magistrate, but none failed to recognize a registrar. Fang Ming knew that he was currently no more than an unranked deity. If he accepted worship in a county magistrate's robes, it would instead damage his Fortune. Registrar's robes were better. Besides, he could borrow a registrar's authority to cow the ignorant villagers, which was exceedingly convenient.

Sure enough, after the temple was set up on the sixth day, the incense offerings flourished by the day. He already had a hundred strands of Divine Power within him, condensed into a mass, and his body was no different from that of an ordinary person, though he still could not manifest in the mortal world.

While the temple was being built, he entered Wang Er's dreams and personally instructed him to make its foundation sturdy. The temple was also very small, so several people could lift and move it when needed, leaving room for later plans.

Fang Ming walked around the temple again and discovered that it covered a full two mu. There was a main hall, a rear courtyard, and side rooms on both sides. His face immediately lit up with joy.

Once the temple was completed and received incense offerings, changes occurred inside. A small space was opened up, enough for Fang Ming to reside in. It also possessed wondrous properties. Originally, Fang Ming had to expend one thread of Divine Power each day, but inside the temple, he expended only one thread every two days. Fang Ming clicked his tongue in amazement.

Fang Ming knew that although this space resembled a Grotto-Heaven, the difference was still vast. This should be a deity's Divine Domain, existing in dependence on the temple. If the temple were destroyed, it would perish as well. A Grotto-Heaven, on the other hand, was more like a Western demiplane; damage to its point of connection would not destroy it.

In reality, this Divine Domain occupied only a little over ten feet in the mortal world. In essence, Fang Ming himself had shrunk before entering it. The Divine Domain possessed its own supernatural marvels, however, so no one could perceive this.

But now that he had a Divine Domain, he would someday have his own Grotto-Heaven, perhaps even grow it into an entire world. At that thought, blazing flames appeared in Fang Ming's eyes.

After so many days of probing and gathering information, he had gained a general understanding of this world.

This world had no Netherworld. Humans and ghosts lived together.

County seats and prefectural cities were protected above by Official Aura and the Fortune of the imperial court, below by the martial aura of county troops and government armies, and in between by the ancestral aura of great clans and noble families who had worshipped their forebears for hundreds and thousands of years. Ghosts could not approach them, making them the safest places.

The country folk who farmed outside lived gathered by clan, jointly worshipping their ancestors to protect themselves. By and large, they were fairly safe as well.

The villagers suffered most. Thus, their greatest wish was to obtain official status and gain the protection of Official Aura. Their next greatest wish was to move into a city.

Unfortunately, this world had powerful hereditary clans, much like the Jin Dynasty. Officials were selected from the descendants of great clans and noble families, while below them, the children of lesser families watched like tigers eyeing prey. Do not underestimate lesser families—they were the small landlord class, far beyond common folk who measured out their grain by the peck. The aristocratic clans controlled books and restricted the spread of knowledge. Therefore, becoming an official and entering the system was exceedingly difficult.

The ancestral spirits of this world were more like earthbound spirits, bound within ancestral temples by vast amounts of Incense and Fire Prayer Power, almost as though imprisoned. Their use of Divine Power was limited to the simplest applications. Without divine offices, they naturally possessed no variety of divine abilities.

All in all, the Divine Way of this world had already taken rudimentary form, and its foundations were exceptionally deep. It lacked only the most crucial thing: divine office talismans.

Coming to this world might not be anything less than great fortune and a tremendous opportunity. Fang Ming silently said in his heart, I came to this world to forge the Divine Way! The instant that thought arose, he felt heaven and earth tremble. Yet when he carefully sensed it again, there was nothing; it seemed to have been an illusion.

Fang Ming paid it no mind. His resolve was set. He sat cross-legged, silently circulating his Divine Power as he waited for the right moment.

Night fell. The wind seemed especially fierce that night, and the villagers of Qingyu Village could not help pulling their blankets tighter in bed.

With a wave of Fang Ming's hand, Divine Power concealed the temple. He had done the same on each of the previous nights.

After so many days of erosion, the Fortune protecting the village was already on the verge of collapse. If they did not break through tonight, a great sacrifice tomorrow would replenish it. Therefore, the day the village fell would be tonight.

Fang Ming had long prepared for this. When the believers worshipped at the Land God Temple during the day, he secretly placed two threads of Divine Power upon each of them for protection. Fortunately, he did not have many believers, only a little over thirty. That was enough to protect them for a time, and they would have their uses later.

By then, the ghosts had already gathered like clouds. Their leader was a burly man with a saber scar across his face, his appearance utterly ferocious.

The burly man swept his gaze around and shouted, "A hero among men in life, a champion among ghosts in death! Brothers, once we break this village, we can feast to our hearts' content! Then we will press our victory and destroy Qingshan Village and Dachang Village as well. We will surely advance in rank through this, then join the Ghost King. We will be no less carefree than men in the mortal world!"

The ghosts roared their assent, their morale soaring. They immediately began attacking the curtain of light. After only two waves of assault, the light curtain shattered with a thunderous crash, and the ghosts cheered loudly.

When the curtain of light broke, everyone in Qingyu Village awoke in alarm, each feeling that a terrible calamity had descended upon them.

Wang Ying, the village head, was already sixty-five. His face had turned deathly pale as he gathered his family and said, "This feeling... it cannot be wrong. Something has happened to the village altar. Evil Ghosts must be causing trouble. A great calamity is upon us." The moment he spoke, everyone in the room went pale.

"N-no way... Th-that would be a calamity that wipes out the entire village..." His eldest son, Wang Qiao, spoke in a trembling voice.

"There is no room for 'but' anymore. Second Qiao, go bring out the donkey. First Qiao, quickly take Qing'er and leave. Preserve one thread of bloodline for our Wang Family. Remember, run toward Qingxi Township. Do not look back. Do not stop!"

"Father..." Wang Qiao fell painfully to his knees, tears streaming down his face. Yet he was still driven out the door. Mounting the donkey and looking at his six-year-old nephew in his arms, he gritted his teeth and cracked the whip. The donkey gave a long cry and charged into the darkness. Without realizing it, Wang Qiao clenched his hand so hard that blood seeped out.

Wang Ying leaned against the doorway, watching that faint, fading silhouette. In his heart, he silently prayed, Ancestors, bless us. Leave one thread of incense for my Wang Family!

Then he felt a gust of yin wind rush at his face. White light flashed over his body and knocked it away. Before he could recover his senses, several more gusts of yin wind pounced upon him. A scream rang out, and he collapsed to the ground. Black qi flickered, leaving behind only a dried corpse.

His family was horrified. Then strange laughter drifted over, and black qi pounced upon them...

The entirety of Qingyu Village had already plunged into an abyss of suffering.

After Wang Er awoke, he saw several lights already lit within the village by the starlight. Yin wind blew against his face, and he heard screams nearby. His heart instantly went cold. His legs turned weak, and he nearly fell. Only one sentence repeated itself over and over in his mind:

"Ghosts slaughtering the village."

This terror, buried deepest in every villager's heart, soaked the back of his clothes with cold sweat. He forced himself to stand and wanted only to flee the village, as far away as possible.

At that moment, black qi pounced toward him. With a bang, it was flung away, accompanied by faint cries of pain.

Divine Power flashed over Wang Er's body, bringing him understanding. He hurriedly worshipped toward the east of the village.

"Many thanks to the Land God for your protection."

Strength returned to his legs. Without another moment's hesitation, he ran toward the eastern end of the village.

Along the way, he encountered many villagers. Familiar faces from ordinary days turned into dried corpses the moment black qi struck them. The sight made him fall several times, tearing his hands and drawing blood.

But at such a time, how could he care about any of that? Even if he had to crawl, he would crawl there. Taking three steps as two, he reached the great willow tree and was startled.

A dense mass of people knelt before the temple. Looking carefully, he saw that nearly all the believers were there, along with more than thirty villagers, their faces still full of lingering terror.

Wang Er hurriedly knelt as well and silently prayed, Land God, please save our village!

Fang Ming gave them a slight look and found that nearly all the believers were present. Ghosts bullied the weak and feared the strong; with better targets available, they would not stubbornly fight his believers to the death.

There were sixty-seven villagers in total, and he knew that these people accounted for half the village's current population. With a thought, he used the dream-entering technique.

The villagers' vision blurred, and they arrived in a great hall. Fang Ming sat high above them in official robes, radiating majesty. They immediately bowed down. "We beg the Land God to save our village from this crisis!"

A voice clear as jade spoke from above. "This god bears the duty of protecting the land and will naturally do his utmost. Yet there is one difficulty: I am not your village's rightful deity, so I cannot save those within it."

One man bowed again. Fang Ming recognized him as Su Hu, from the second wealthiest household in the village. Su Hu asked, "May I ask, honored god, how can you become our village's rightful deity?"

"Move my temple into the village and place it upon the altar. You may decide this matter yourselves."

As soon as he finished speaking, everyone's vision blurred again. When they looked around, they were still kneeling before the Land God Temple. They recalled the tale from several days ago, that Wang Er had met the god through worship. They had thought it mere idle chatter, never expecting it to be true.

Then they recalled the Land God's final words and could not help looking at one another.