Three Flower Lady

"This humble god is a local village god, surnamed Wang in my mortal life. May I ask your esteemed name?"

"This Humble One is Song You, styled Menglai by my master."

"Is the esteemed one a member of the Daoist sect?"

"I grew up in a Daoist temple."

"May I ask if you have a Daoist title?"

"No Daoist title yet." Song You calmly met the gaze of this local deity. "What business does Shangong have with me?"

"Then this humble god shall address you as Master Menglai." Wang Shangong remained exceedingly courteous. "Disturbing your pure slumber late at night is truly presumptuous, but this matter concerns the livelihood of the local common folk. I observed that your cultivation is profound, Master, and have come specially to seek your aid."

"Shangong, please speak plainly."

"This matter begins ten years ago."

Wang Shangong paused briefly, his speech carrying the drawn-out style of someone from the previous dynasty: "Ten years ago, a great yao came to this land, beguiling people's hearts and causing the locals to build a temple and shrine for it, located about twenty li from here."

Upon hearing this, Song You understood roughly.

Man and god stared at each other. Song You waited for him to continue, while he seemed to wait for Song You to interject.

"Why not report it?"

"Master, please hear me out."

"..."

Song You's face showed helplessness.

But these local yin spirits were mostly virtuous people who had transformed after death, and they were so advanced in years. As a junior, he ought to show them some respect. As a young man, he could hardly point out flaws bluntly.

"Then I'll make it brief."

"... Please."

"That great yao, though powerful in sorcery, was already eradicated a few years ago, jointly suppressed by the eminent monks of Tianhai Temple and Zhou Leigong. At the time, we thought it a pity to destroy the licentious shrine since it was not far from the main road. After smashing the stone statue, we left it standing to give passing travelers a place to rest and shelter from rain. Recently, while patrolling, I wandered to Majia Bay and discovered that, for some reason, incense and fire had appeared again in that temple."

"Did Shangong go to investigate?"

"How shameful, how shameful. This humble god's sorcery is meager, and I know nothing of combat. Seeing the incense and fire from afar, I dared not approach." Wang Shangong showed a look of shame.

"Shangong acted wisely."

"This time, I wish to ask Master to go and investigate. If it proves true, then in a few days, at the full moon, this humble god will report it upward."

"Does Shangong suspect that the yao is reborn through the incense and fire?"

"This humble god believes it is likely so."

"I will go and have a look tomorrow."

"Master, your character is noble and pure. This humble god thanks you on behalf of the surrounding people." Wang Shangong bowed deeply once more, then continued, "Master's cultivation is no small matter. Even if the yao is reborn, it surely lacks its former power. If Master goes during the day, it should not be too dangerous. It is merely an inconvenience to trouble you with the journey. As for the location, this humble god has written it on a paper, placed before the shrine."

"Shangong, I take my leave."

"..."

Wang Shangong froze for a moment, then hurriedly returned the bow.

The bow had just been made, and before he could straighten up, everything around them dissolved into mist and smoke, vanishing in an instant. Song You's vision went dark.

When he opened his eyes again, he was still curled up in the corner of the village temple.

The temple had a door but no light. The wooden door did not close tightly, and moonlight streamed in through the gaps, leaving a long, slanted white frost on the floor tiles. A row of divine statues was faintly visible.

The snoring of the wanderers rose and fell.

Song You got up and searched the shrine. He did not find the paper before Wang Shangong's statue, but instead found it before the statue of Chijin the Great Emperor. It must have been Wang Shangong's way of indicating his allegiance.

It was yellow hemp paper, commonly used for talismans. The calligraphy was decent.

He put the paper away and looked over the statues again.

This kind of village temple never cared about Buddhism or Daoism. The common folk had no money to build separate temples for each faith, so they had to squeeze them all together. No need to complain about the indignity.

At the center were naturally the current chief deity of the Daoist celestial palace, Chijin the Great Emperor, and the Lord of the Ten Thousand Buddhas of Buddhism. On either side stood various gods, mostly those famous in current society for one reason or another. For example, a popular novel had recently spread widely, heavily depicting the thunder god Zhou Leigong. As a result, Zhou Leigong's fame among the people had risen sharply, and in many newly built small temples, especially those spontaneously erected by the common folk, his position had become prominent.

He wondered if the god himself had benefited from this.

Most deities evolved and developed in this way.

Then came the local gods. If one had to speak of their domains and duties, there were mountain gods, river gods, road gods, and village gods, most of them transformed from mortals.

After these people died, the people remembered them fondly, and the power of their wishes supported them, naturally turning them into gods. The court would most likely grant them the title of orthodox deities as well.

In truth, in this world, whether it was the Daoist celestial palace or the Buddhist Western Paradise, all those so-called gods and buddhas, though held in high esteem by the people, especially believers, were no different in essence from these local minor gods formed by the power of wishes.

Thus, it was common to see a new Son of Heaven bring new gods.

Take Chijin the Great Emperor, for example. Legend said he was born at the dawn of heaven and earth, endured one thousand three hundred and fifty kalpas of bitter cultivation, each kalpa lasting one hundred and twenty-nine thousand six hundred years, before attaining the position of Heavenly Emperor. Many people believed this without question. Even those who did not believe in him mostly assumed he had been worshipped since ancient times. But in truth, his title had only been born in the last two hundred years. Two hundred years ago, no one in this world worshipped him, and his name did not even exist.

Maintaining a lofty divine image in the hearts of the people was necessary, but from a young age, his master had warned Song You that as a cultivator, he was different from ordinary folk. He must have a correct and clear understanding of them.

But what that understanding should be, his master had never told him, only letting him discover it for himself.

Song You was still in the process of building that understanding.

He studied the statue for a long time by moonlight, but still couldn't sleep, so he turned and pushed open the door to step outside.

The midnight air rushed to meet him instantly, yet it didn't feel cold, only fresh. Looking up, he saw the clear night free of dust, the moonlight like silver, a few clouds edged in silver beneath the moon as if glowing, while the great mountains were outlined in rolling contours—a fine scene under the moon.

He sat there in the moonlight, still as stone, until dawn broke.

Song You left Jinyang Road and turned onto a branch path.

This was also a main road, though he didn't know its name—a step below the official post roads like Jinyang Road that connected the capital, but still wide.

Song You was in no hurry at all. He walked and stopped along the way, even pausing to ask directions several times, until he finally found this temple.

They said it wasn't far from the main road, and indeed it sat on a mountainside beside the road, visible from a distance, but walking there would probably take another half mile—Song You had started out thinking Wang Shangong said it was close to the road, so he kept walking along it, unknowingly passed it, and only turned back after asking for directions.

It was already afternoon when he arrived.

A hundred meters away, he hung his pack on a tree branch and walked toward the ruined temple along a small path, as if utterly without fear.

As soon as he drew near, he caught the scent of incense and candles.

There was indeed incense and fire here.

A closer sniff revealed it to be local homemade incense, its fragrance leaning toward mosquito-repelling herbs, fresh and invigorating.

This ruined temple was about the same size as the one from last night, built in imitation of a proper temple's hall, only slightly smaller. And it was a single, standalone shrine. Most village-built temples followed this pattern, usually without monks or Taoist priests in residence.

But it was much more dilapidated than last night's.

Song You stopped at the entrance, examining it carefully.

Still with doors but no windows—except this temple didn't even have a door anymore. What blocked the entrance now was a bamboo-woven fence. The walls had originally been painted red lacquer, but now not only were there many peeling patches, but also numerous cracks and scars, including marks from axes and knives, lightning strikes and fire damage, some even piercing straight through the walls.

Song You's gaze followed these traces, as if reconstructing the scene of battle in his mind.

He withdrew his gaze and walked toward the entrance.

The fence was only lightly latched; he moved it aside with ease.

Stepping into the temple, Song You took a deep breath. He didn't smell anything unpleasant, only the herbal scent of the homemade incense.

He looked up at the altar—

The original statue was long gone, though traces of where it had stood remained. What sat there now was a clay Cat Statue, strikingly small compared to the original human-sized statue, no bigger than a normal cat.

In front of it was a clay block, riddled with holes from incense and candles, most already burned out. Only three sticks of incense were still burning, and they had reached their final third.

Sure enough, it was Homemade Earth Incense.

The kind wrapped in red paper, filled with herbal powder and a bamboo stick—slow-burning, with a pleasant fragrance.

And there were even offerings placed out.

Cooked meat and a finger-width strip of raw fish.

Song You stood in the middle of the temple, turning his head left and right to survey the entire space, then stepped up to the altar. He picked up a strand of hair, held it close to his eyes for a long, careful look, then tossed it away and found a place to sit.

It seemed this one wasn't in the temple.

Out on business?

And he still couldn't determine exactly what was going on.

Perhaps it was a local animal that had gained sentience, coveting the incense and fire of the mortal world, and upon finding this temple, had recklessly claimed it for itself.

Incense and fire held a fatal allure for mountain spirits and ghosts.

Perhaps it was something the locals had done on their own, and a wildcat from the mountain had coincidentally made this place its den.

In this era, some places did indeed worship cats as gods, hoping they would catch all the rats and leave more grain for the household.

Or perhaps that demon from back then had truly been reborn.

He waited about an hour. As the sun slanted lower, golden light streamed in through the entrance, creeping inward inch by inch, about to fall at the feet of Song You, who sat cross-legged, when finally there was movement outside.

Song You rose unhurriedly to look.

A cat walked slowly along the path in the sunlight. The wild weeds growing on the path were no shorter than it, often pushed aside as it passed. When it came to a ditch, its body seemed weightless as it lightly leaped, crossing over gracefully.

It had long known someone was in the temple, but it showed no wariness, swaggering in until it reached the entrance. One paw hooked over the threshold, and when it looked up and saw a man in a Taoist robe inside, its eyes suddenly froze, then gradually filled with caution.

It looked left.

It looked right.

It pondered, it thought.

The paw on the threshold withdrew and then returned, and finally it decided to come in.

It nimbly vaulted over the threshold, raised its head to meet Song You's gaze, its eyes like amber, likely capable of bewitching hearts even without any tricks:

"A Taoist priest?"

The vocal cords of spirits differed from humans'. Without taking human form, even when speaking human language, one couldn't distinguish male from female—at most, one could tell the original species from the voice, and perhaps its age.

This cat's voice was clear and fine, not hoarse.

"How might I address you?"

Song You politely bowed to it.

"I am the Three Flower Lady."

"This Humble One is named Song You. Greetings, Three Flower Lady."

"What are you doing in my temple?"

"Last night I lodged in a village shrine, and was entrusted by the local deity to come and check on the incense and fire here." Song You stood straight, yet had to lower his head. "May I ask, does the Three Flower Lady have an imperial decree from the human court to gather incense and fire here?"

"What's that?"

"It's..."

Song You met its gaze, but paused.

This little cat demon had shallow cultivation, likely having only recently become a spirit. And judging by the clear stupidity in its eyes, he would probably have to carefully organize his words.

The new book has already been signed. Thank you to the big shots for the monthly tickets, recommendation tickets, and tips. Thank you to all the helmsmen, thank you to Little Gold, thank you to North Wind Does Not Return, thank you to everyone reading. You've lifted me onto the new book rankings so quickly—I'm quite nervous. Here, have a cat.