Yuelong looked at the statue with suspicion. That’s the goddess? That’s Lady Jiutian?

As it turned out, unlike how other statues of deities or gods were decked in jewellery and all sorts of flowing fabric, the statue of Lady Jiutian was nothing spectacular. It was a statue of a girl. Yes, just a girl. Lady Jiutian appeared to be a girl around the age of twelve looking down at her palms.

The statue’s expression was a mix of joy and sadness, similar to that of Yuelong’s, his usual face a mask of impassivity; it was hard to tell what feeling the statue was truly trying to depict. But one thing that this simple statue had—and that many other statues did not—was craftsmanship that was simply out of this world. The statue’s life-like appearance made it seem as though it could actually breathe and blink like a real human.

Too life-like…

Yuelong remembered seeing other statues of deities during his travels with his fellow cultivators. Some statues were extremely extravagant, overly decorated with earrings, necklaces, jewels, and crystals. And some statues were overdressed—or underdressed, to the point that their worshippers were all men only. The tenures of the latter tended to end terribly: in one instance, a goddess was so angered by her statue’s appearance that she punished the sculptor and the men who worshipped her for their concupiscence.

The village had sent a letter to Qianyang Summit, requesting help with pacifying the goddess’s anger. Because the temple had already been tainted with unholy thoughts, Qianyang ended up demolishing the temple entirely and rebuilding it next to a forest. The temple was later turned into a brothel and meeting place for beguiling fox spirits.

Yuelong walked closer towards the statue, and found himself a kneeling mat. Sitting with his legs crossed and his eyes closed, he opened up the gateway between his Niwan1 and the crown of his head. A pale blue circle of light appeared around him. The bustling sounds of worship instantly went silent. Everyone in the temple stood and watched the young man sitting in meditation.

In the tranquility of his mind, Yuelong once again felt the familiar sensation of floating: his soul had traveled out of his mortal body through the gateway of his third eye. He flew right through the roof of the temple and headed further upwards. Picking up speed, the white clouds and blue skies turned into blurry streams of colour. The faster he went, the blurrier and muddier the colours of the skies turned. Then, a crisp scent hit him. It was like the smell of a forest, except much more refreshing and cleaner. It soothed his mind as he slowed his ascent.

He found himself on the shores of a river. It looked similar to one that could be found in the mortal realm, but the colours here were much more vibrant. Everything gave off a small glow. As he stood on the river bank, he could hear the flowing of peaceful waters and the distant songs of heavenly birds. This river was not like the rivers of the mortal realm. Its waters were clear but infinitely deep. It sparkled and shined with the countless stars and planets of the universe. It was why it was named the Tianhang River2.

Yuelong looked to his right and saw a small pavilion sitting in the middle of the Tianhang River’s tranquil flow. A zigzagging bridge connected the two shores to the pavilion. Many pavilions like this existed throughout the Tianhang River. Invisible when not in use, the pavilions appeared only when they sensed the presence of people with great spiritual energy. Yes, they “sensed.” Having already been here for who knew how long, the pavilions have long since absorbed the energies of the Heavens, the Earth and the Tianhang River. In a way, the pavilions were much more advanced in cultivation than Yuelong himself.

This was the Cross Above. It was the place where two of the three realms—the Realm of the Heavens and the Realm of Humanity—crossed, and it was the place where humans communicated with gods.

Yuelong walked into the pavilion and sat down on one of the jade chairs.

“Qianyang disciple Fan Yuelong is here to seek an audience with Lady Jiutian.” His voice echoed through the vastless space.

A small boy materialized in front of Yuelong. His hair was tied up into two buns on either side of his head. He wore a pair of white robes that reached downwards, nearly touching the floor. In his hands he carried a tray with a teapot and three cups. The boy laid the tray onto the jade table, bowed to Yuelong, and vanished in a wisp of smoke.

Yuelong poured tea into one cup and set it aside. After a beat, the waterline in the cup started to slowly go down, before the tea vanished into thin air altogether. Yuelong poured in more and filled the other two cups as well.

“May I ask where Lady Jiutian is?” Yuelong asked.

The boy once again materialized. But this time, he appeared sitting on one of the jade chairs. The first cup that Yuelong filled was in the boy’s hands.

“Not sure,” replied the boy in a cheery voice. “Maybe she’s busy?”

“Hmm.”

Yuelong sipped from the cup. The fragrant aroma of the tea straight away melted his weariness and his lack of spiritual energy.

“It’s good tea, isn’t it?” The boy smiled, tilting his head to look at him. “They’re from the tea bushes that grow on Xumi Mountain3.”

“Ahh…no wonder,” said Yuelong, taking another sip. Xumi Mountain was a legendary mountain of the cultivation world. It was where the lecture of Dharma was held once every hundred years. On each rare occasion, spiritual energy from the fabric of the universe would manifest in the environment of Xumi Mountain, imparting to its flora, to its fauna, and even to the rock itself the essence of life, and thus also the ability to take on human-like form and conscience.

Naturally, even the tea bushes that grew on Xumi Mountain all had healing properties.

Yuelong and the boy sat in silence as they waited for the arrival of Lady Jiutian. In the distance, the sweet melody of the birds rang. The boy hummed along with the tune. It was a tune that one would likely never find in the mortal realm. Though it was hummed by only one little boy, Yuelong felt as if the music itself was played by an ensemble. It was just like the lecture of Dharma; it had depth and meaning to it.

Could it be that she’s busy? Yuelong thought to himself. Maybe she’s already dealing with the snake spirit.

After a while longer, Yuelong stood up and bowed to the boy. “Thank you, pavilion spirit, for the tea and the leisurely time that I had here.”

“You’re most welcome! It’s a pity Lady Jiutian didn’t come,” the boy said. “I’ll see you next time, then!” The boy waved his hand at Yuelong and vanished into thin air.

On his way across the bridge, Yuelong paused to look at his reflection in the Tianhang River. Legends had it that if a mortal were to look into the Tianhang River, the river would show not only their own reflection but also their soul mate. The lucky ones might even see their own past and future lives in the waters.

Yuelong stared at his own reflection. Countless stars twinkled beneath him, glittering and sparkling.

Nothing.

Yuelong sighed and walked back onto the shore. He chanted a spell and flew straight down, passing through the ethereal ground like dust. As Yuelong’s soul exited the Cross Above, the pavilion also vanished into thin air.

If Yuelong had stayed for a couple of seconds longer, he would have seen the stars in the Tianhang River gathering and forming into a person’s face.

Flying back to Shengyu Temple, Yuelong noticed that the sun was already in the afternoon position. A total of two shichen4 had passed while he was away. His soul glided back through the blue shield that he had put up around his body earlier to protect it. He passed back through the gateway in his head and returned to the mortal realm.

The glow of the shield slowly faded away as Yuelong stood up from his meditative position. The people in the temple looked at him in awe.

“I heard he was there for four hours!”

“Was he sleeping?”

“Good, he finally got up! That was my favourite spot!”

“Is he the new Daoist?”

Time worked differently in different realms. Yuelong had been at the Cross Above for no more than twenty minutes, but in the Human Realm, two shichens, or four hours, had already passed.

Since Lady Jiutian couldn’t receive him at the Cross Above, maybe she was somewhere in the temple.

Refreshed from the Xumi Mountain tea, Yuelong felt energy course through his entire body. He opened his third eye and peered at the statue.

Huh?

The statue glowed with a gold light that, at its edges, shifted slowly and unendingly into different colours. It was definitely a magnificent sight, even for Yuelong. However, in the center of the statue, there was a weird thing that Yuelong had never seen before. Before he had time to examine the statue, a blinding light pierced through his forehead.

Yuelong’s third eye immediately snapped shut as he stumbled backwards into a pillar.

What was that?

“Lady Jiutian is too busy at the moment to receive guests,” a voice called out. A middle-aged man walked out from the room behind the offering table. “I deeply apologize for my lack of hospitality.” The man bowed deeply in Yuelong’s direction.

Yuelong returned the bow.

“May I ask who our esteemed guest is? You must be a natural cultivator! Such powerful abilities at this young an age!” The man exclaimed.

“I am Fan Yuelong, just a common cultivator from the mountains,” Yuelong replied, not wanting to tell him his Qianyang background.

“May I ask who your master is? And your sect?”

“I am from a little sect that is too humble to be mentioned. My master has lived apart from society for a long time, so I wish to keep his name private.”

“Of course, of course…Where are my manners? I am Deng Lu5, the Daoist of Shengyu Temple,” the man introduced. “The people here usually call me Master Deng.”

Deng Lu held a fu chen6 in his left hand and hung a sword from his waist. He had his hair tied up into a bun with a wooden hairpin holding it in place. His skin was a waxy yellow and had an almost a sickly feel to it—not a good sign.

“I have some things to report to you, Master Deng,” Yuelong said, walking closer to Deng Lu. “Perhaps we can talk in private?”

Deng Lu waved his hand and shook his head. Smiling, he said, “If it’s about the snake spirit, Lady Jiutian has already taken care of it.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, while you were meditating here, she sent me off to deal with it.”

“I see…” Yuelong once again quickly scanned the Daoist from head to toe.

Noticing the gaze from Yuelong, Deng Lu asked, “Do you have a place to stay? Shengyu Temple welcomes all cultivators.”

“That won’t be necessary, thank you.”

Bowing one last time, Yuelong turned and exited the temple. Something wasn’t right. He touched the space between his eyebrows. The slight sting was still there.

Too risky to use the third eye right now.

Yuelong turned back onto the streets and blended into the crowd.

As the last rays of sunlight shone upon the rooftop of Shenyu Temple, the crowd gradually faded away, leaving behind the sweet scents of offerings and fruit. Yuelong leaned against the side wall with his arms crossed. With the last worshipper leaving, he flipped over the wall and landed softly in the temple’s front yard.

The door to the temple slowly opened. Yuelong hastily rolled behind a table, hiding from view. Peeking out from the side, Yuelong saw the figure of Deng Lu come out from the temple doors.

It’s now or never!

Bracing for the sting in his forehead, Yuelong opened his third eye and looked at Deng Lu.

No wonder.

Surrounding Deng Lu was a black aura, squirming and slithering all over his body.

A spirit possession?

Just as the Daoist closed the door, Deng Lu suddenly looked up with fear. A hushed wind blew across the yard, bringing with it the sounds of rustling leaves and soft howls.

Yuelong wasn’t sure if it was the wind or something else, but he could have sworn he heard hissing.

Deng Lu looked down at the ground. He paused for a moment. Then, he looked over at the table that Yuelong was hiding behind. Realizing that his cover was blown, Yuelong stood up.

“So it’s you!” Yuelong pointed at Deng Lu. Yuelong snatched three fallen leaves from a passing breeze and shot them at Deng Lu.

The yellow leaves, enhanced with spiritual energy, flew like sharp darts aiming for the Daoist.

Deng Lu whipped out his fu chen and swatted the leaves, sending them to the wall behind him. He took one last look at Yuelong and leapt over the wall, disappearing into the forest.