That Old Man Was the Heavenly Lord of Primordial Beginning

After winning that game, the old man had clearly shaken off his string of defeats.

He cheerfully took a huge swig of wine, slapped the table, and told Wen Ning,

"Now that's more like it. You young fellows have no sense of courtesy. You ought to go easy on your elders."

Seeing how full of himself the old man had become, Wen Ning thought, If you weren't so old, I'd beat you until you had a brain hemorrhage.

But Wen Ning clearly only dared to think that. There was no way he would say it aloud.

"You're still going strong in your old age, sir. I'm certainly no match for you."

He still had to flatter the old man. Otherwise, one bad mood might really turn his shop into a nightclub.

Seeing that Wen Ning knew how to play along, the old man waved him off, telling him to get lost.

He told him to come back for another game next time and try something new.

Wen Ning thought, Not even if you kill me am I playing chess with you again.

Outwardly, he still bowed respectfully.

Then he withdrew from the Imperial Garden.

He no longer had much interest in his plan to explore the Heavenly Court that day, so after leaving the Imperial Garden, Wen Ning returned to the mortal world.

By the time he returned from the Heavenly Court to the mortal world, it was already evening.

His agency looked just as it had when he left.

Big Golden Retriever lay by the entrance and gave a single wag of the tail when he returned, which counted as a greeting.

Sparrow Spirit was also perched by the entrance. Seeing Wen Ning return, he asked excitedly,

"You're back from the Heavenly Court? What does it actually look like up there? Is it pretty?"

Seeing how curious Sparrow Spirit was, Wen Ning asked,

"Aren't you a bird? Have you never gone to the Heavenly Court yourself?"

When Wen Ning asked him that, Sparrow Spirit replied,

"I'm just a sparrow spirit. When would I ever get the chance to visit the Heavenly Court? Sure, they've loosened the rules these days, but a minor monster like me still can't just go there whenever I please."

Hearing this, Wen Ning understood. As he opened the door, he told Sparrow Spirit,

"If I get the chance, I'll take you all to the Heavenly Court for a visit."

With that, he opened the door and went straight inside.

The first thing Wen Ning did after entering was his usual ritual: he took three incense sticks from the drawer, lit them, and kowtowed three times before the deity statue.

"Godfather, I met an old man in the Imperial Garden today. He wore an old Daoist robe and carried a wine gourd, and he was terrible at Chinese chess. I beat him three times, and he refused to keep playing and started being a sore loser. He even threatened to change my bathhouse sign to a nightclub sign."

He was still a little curious about the old man's identity.

"Godfather, who is that old man? He said he could go talk to my grandmaster. What's his relationship to you?"

The incense smoke drifted through the air.

Then Wen Ning's phone screen lit up. Wen Zhong had replied.

"He's my master's master. Just keep him happy. Next time he drags you into a game, remember not to be so clueless."

Wen Ning stared at the message in silence for a full ten seconds. He turned his phone facedown on the table, took a deep breath, then flipped it back over. His fingers trembled slightly as he typed.

"Godfather, your master is Dipper Mother. If he's Dipper Mother's master, doesn't that make him the Heavenly Lord of Primordial Beginning?"

Wen Zhong's reply consisted of a single word.

"Yes."

Wen Ning set his phone on the offering table, pressed his palms together, and bowed to the deity statue.

"Godfather, could you give me a list of the Heavenly Court's senior figures ahead of time next time? With photos. I just beat him at Chinese chess three times in the Imperial Garden, and I even called him a sore loser."

Wen Zhong did not reply to Wen Ning's message.

Early the next morning, Wen Ning put up a small handwritten cardboard sign in the shop. In large letters, it read: New service: Essential Oil Back Massage. Twenty percent off during the trial period. Come give it a try.

As soon as he placed the sign by the entrance, it caused a stir that very afternoon.

Weasel Old Man was the first to notice it. Soaking in a large tub with a teacup in hand, he studied the sign for quite a while.

"Boss, this Essential Oil Back Massage sounds mighty relaxing."

Wen Ning carried a box of essential oils he had bought wholesale online out of the corner.

As he unpacked it, he explained what an Essential Oil Back Massage was.

It was an oil massage added to the usual bath scrub, promoting circulation, relaxing the muscles, and relieving fatigue. It was ten times more comfortable than a plain scrub.

As he spoke, he unscrewed a bottle of osmanthus-scented oil and dripped a few drops into the large tub. A rich fragrance instantly filled the entire shop.

The scent made Weasel Old Man sneeze twice in a row, and he frowned.

"It smells nice enough, but can these old bones of mine stand being kneaded?"

Wen Ning patted Weasel Old Man on the back.

"Don't worry. You're a regular here, so your first session is free. If you're not satisfied, you won't pay a cent."

The moment Weasel Old Man heard the word "free," he told Wen Ning,

"Come on, give me a go. Let's see how comfortable it is."

(Author: All the monster customers come in their original forms. I mentioned this before. Wen Ning's place is actually an agency, so there isn't much room. They all come in their original forms.)

Perched on the electric fan, Sparrow Spirit watched Weasel Old Man's entire Essential Oil Back Massage without joining in. He was still thinking about what Wen Ning had said yesterday and wondering when he could visit the Heavenly Court.

Weasel Old Man lay on the stool, eyes narrowed, humming contentedly for quite a while.

Finally, he managed to come out with one remark.

"It's about the same as soaking in medicinal wine, but it smells better."

Word spread faster than Wen Ning had expected.

The next afternoon, when Xiong Batian came to volunteer as a back scrubber, he saw the sign and his eyes went wide.

"Boss Wen, you've started another new service! I lost to you in the back-scrubbing contest last time, but I want to try this Essential Oil Back Massage too. The monsters of Black Wind Mountain deserve to enjoy an Essential Oil Back Massage!"

As he spoke, he tossed the towel draped over his shoulder onto the edge of the tub. Wen Ning looked at his two-meter-tall, heavily muscled frame, then at the bottle of essential oil in his hand, which was only the size of his palm.

"Brother Xiong, with your size, even pouring this whole bottle over you wouldn't give us enough oil for the massage. It wouldn't cover the cost. Besides, there isn't anywhere here that can accommodate a body like yours."

Xiong Batian glanced around Wen Ning's agency. With his bulk inside, the place had become considerably more cramped.

So he gave up on trying an Essential Oil Back Massage.

Over the next few days, the bathhouse's Essential Oil Back Massage service became wildly popular.

Monsters came from every village for miles around.

The most ridiculous visitor was Koi, who had cultivated for three thousand years and still refused to turn into a dragon.

That was right—even Koi from the Heavenly Court's Imperial Garden had somehow heard about it.

During a break, Koi requested leave and slipped down to the mortal world.

Koi came to the shop for an Essential Oil Back Massage. With a huge carp swimming back and forth in a large bathtub, anyone who didn't know better might have thought Wen Ning was preparing to make braised carp.

Before leaving, Koi even remarked,

"Better than the Imperial Garden's hot springs," and planned to return during the next holiday.

After seeing Koi off, Wen Ning leaned against the doorframe, looking at the nearly empty box of essential oils in the shop, then at the little cardboard sign on the wall.

He needed to restock as soon as possible.

He would also ask Lu Ming whether there were any wholesale essential oil suppliers in the Heavenly Court. After all, no matter how fragrant mortal essential oils were, they could never compare to immortal products refined from spiritual herbs.

(I want to write something like Natsume's Book of Friends. Would you enjoy that, or would you prefer something more focused on satisfying wins?)