Shen Le: I Should Be Under the Car, Not Force-Fed Dog Food

When the little girl entered, Shen Le did not notice her.

He was still pacing around the temple, circling and circling, studying the statue at its center:

He had never seen that statue before. It had not existed among the clay wedding procession figurines.

Moreover, whether in size, style, or the splendor of its decorations, it was in a completely different league from the small clay figurines he had restored:

In terms of volume and the amount of clay used, it was probably dozens, perhaps even hundreds, of times greater;

In terms of decorative complexity—the jeweled ornaments, ribbons, jade belt and belt hooks at its waist, tassel rings, and all manner of other adornments—it was likewise dozens of times more intricate.

One glance was enough to tell that this deity bore the profound reverence and sincere love of both its maker and the common people—

"So who exactly are you?"

Shen Le frowned, gazing up at the statue and trying to commit every detail to memory—there might be a test on it later. No, he might have to restore it himself.

The statue was handsome, with a face like polished jade. It was a very orthodox, common depiction of a military god—and a decidedly upright one at that. There was no vertical eye between its brows, its weapon was not a three-pointed, double-edged spear, and there was no dog crouching by its feet, so it probably was not Erlang Shen;

It wore neither green robes nor a red face, held neither a Green Dragon Crescent Blade nor a book scroll, so it probably was not Lord Guan;

Its weapon was not a spear, and there was no young general in silver armor and white robes with twin hammers beside it. Probably, perhaps, it was not King Yue either."

Not to