The verdant forests blanketed the rolling foothills, stretching endlessly into the distance. Birds skimmed over patch after patch of farmland before alighting on the roof of a house in North Village, chirping as they preened their feathers. Tilting their tiny heads, they watched a woman in plain robes carrying a tray of food as she gently pushed open the door.

Creak—

Amid the familiar groan of old timber, the dimly lit room was bathed in the warm glow of an oil lamp. Chen Jing sat silently behind a small table, lost in thought. The woman set the dishes upon the table before slowly turning toward him.

“Mother, do you think, after not seeing us for so long, Mister Lu may never come to see us again?”

“I don’t think so. Jing’er, don’t let your thoughts run wild. Come, eat while the food is still warm.”

The old countryside house was dark and worn. Zhang Lihua picked up the oil lamp and moved it closer before handing him a pair of chopsticks. “I know you’re hurting inside. After all, you went from being an emperor to—”

“Mother, it’s alright.”

Chen Jing divided the food in his bowl in half and shared it with her. “I’m more worried that Mother isn’t used to living like this.”

“What is there for me to get used to?” Zhang Lihua picked the fish from her own bowl and placed it into her son’s, then took a mouthful of greens, chewing slowly behind her lightly closed lips. Remembering the hardship they had endured, she smiled.

“This is still far better than when we had just fled the capital, and the two of us wandered aimlessly through the mountains, isn’t it?”

She paused for a moment before continuing.

“Oh, right. The village head said Mister Lu has been very busy lately. Not long ago, a high-ranking official from the Sui Dynasty came to visit him. It’s fortunate we didn’t go then, or we’d only have made things difficult for him. Now he’s occupied with building a temple. Just wait patiently, Jing’er. I’ll see to our meals. I can’t very well let you go out and do manual labor.”

The mother and son had been living in North Village for several days now. At first, nothing felt familiar—especially using the privy. The village latrines were little more than a pit dug into the ground, surrounded by tattered reed mats, with a single wooden plank laid across the opening. Everything inside was plainly visible, and for a mother and son who had once enjoyed the luxury and refinement of the imperial palace, it had taken quite some time to overcome their discomfort.

As for food, although they had brought some gold and silver with them when they left the palace, such wealth was nearly useless in a small village like this. Not only was it difficult to spend, but using it would only invite suspicion. Gritting her teeth, Zhang Lihua rolled up her sleeves and joined the village women in odd jobs, earning millet and simple meals in return. From time to time, Sun Yingxian would also send over some better rice. Only then did the mother and son gradually begin to adapt to life in this humble place.

Yet keeping an oil lamp lit in broad daylight was a luxury they could scarcely afford.

The sound of chopsticks lightly tapping against porcelain echoed through the room as mother and son quietly ate their meal. Just as they exchanged a few words, footsteps approached from outside.

Knock, knock.

The door had not yet been closed. The village head stood beneath the eaves and rapped lightly on the doorframe. “There’s an old man outside the village looking for the two of you. Why don’t you come take a look? Perhaps you know him.”

Chen Jing and his mother exchanged a glance before setting down their bowls and chopsticks. Following the village head in haste, they crossed the muddy path between the village houses. From afar, they saw an elderly man in a dusty gray robe pacing back and forth with his hands clasped behind his back, occasionally looking toward the village.

“It’s Imperial Granduncle…”

Chen Jing recognized the old man at a glance. Zhang Lihua nodded, hurriedly straightened her slightly disheveled hair, and quickened her pace.

The old man also noticed the approaching mother and son. After cupping his hands to thank the village head beside him, he waited until the man had left, then shook out his sleeves and bowed deeply to them.

“This old minister, Chen Fu, pays his respects to Your Majesty and the Grand Imperial Consort.”

“Imperial Granduncle, there’s no need for such formalities. The Chen Dynasty is gone. Please don’t call me ‘Your Majesty’ anymore. Come with us to the house where we’re staying, and we can talk there.”

Villagers came and went nearby, making such a scene rather inconvenient. Chen Jing immediately led the old man back to the dilapidated house where they were temporarily lodging.

The furnishings inside were sparse, with dust covering many corners. When the old man saw the two chipped bowls on the table, he turned his gaze away in visible distress.

“Your Majesty… Grand Imperial Consort… this is what you have been eating?”

Zhang Lihua gathered the bowls and chopsticks and carried them aside, wiping the sweat from her face with her sleeve.

“We’re only staying in this mountain village temporarily. Having a roof over our heads is already more than enough. We dare not ask for anything more.”

“To see Your Majesty and the Grand Imperial Consort reduced to such circumstances… this old minister is heartsick.” Chen Fu let out a long sigh and closed his eyes for a moment.

After standing there in silence for a while, he slowly opened his eyes and looked toward Chen Jing.

“Although the capital has fallen into Sui hands, the lands of Chen are vast, and many officials and commoners still remain loyal to our dynasty. For Your Majesty to remain hidden here is no long-term solution. Why not accompany this old minister elsewhere? We can gather troops once more and reclaim the capital.”

After all, the Chen Dynasty had belonged to Chen Jing. It had been entrusted to him by his father, only to be lost under his own reign. Deep within the young man’s heart, there still lingered a stubborn unwillingness to accept that defeat.

But thinking of his purpose in fleeing here, he hesitated.

“Jing’er.”

Zhang Lihua clenched the corner of her robe. She understood the struggle in her son’s heart, but if they remained here, any hope of restoring the Chen Dynasty would likely be lost forever.

In the dim glow of the oil lamp, Chen Jing sat on the long bench, his fists clenched tightly upon his knees, trembling ever so slightly. Only when his mother called to him did he slowly raise his head and stand.

“Let’s go… let’s go.”

He repeated the words in a low voice. Seeing his mother dressed in worn, faded clothes, her face showing the pallor of poor nourishment, Chen Jing drew a deep breath, turned toward the old man, and cupped his hands. “I shall follow Imperial Granduncle’s counsel.”

Not long afterward, they packed their few belongings and left the house, stepping onto the muddy road outside the village. In the distance, a lone figure riding a donkey passed swiftly along the mountain path ahead. In the blink of an eye, he disappeared around a bend.

“It’s Mister Lu…”

Chen Jing wanted to go to Lu Family Village to bid him farewell, but the old man urged him onward. Left with no choice, he followed in the opposite direction, repeatedly glancing back at the outline of Lu Family Village. When it was almost lost from sight, he set down his bundle, cupped his hands toward the village, and bowed deeply. Only then did he turn around and vanish into the afternoon sunlight together with the old man and his mother.

Behind them, the old donkey sped back to the fenced courtyard as fast as wind and lightning. It kicked up its hooves and dashed into the shed. The bookshelf clattered to the ground, and the Toad Daoist shoved open the tiny door, his cheeks puffed out. He sprinted toward the vegetable patch, braced himself against a wooden fence, and with a loud blegh, vomited.

The sound of retching drew the attention of the grey-feathered figure stepping out of the kitchen, who turned its long neck to look over.

“You wretched beast! Again?!”

The toad and the rooster tumbled into the vegetable patch. The Toad Daoist hung out his tongue, feebly crawling only a short distance before his webbed foot suddenly tightened. His eyes bulged as he squeezed out a curse. “Damn your mother…”

Before he could finish, the rooster pecked at his foot again, dragging him bodily back into the patch and gouging a deep furrow through the earth.

Lu Liangsheng walked back along the mountain path to his thatched cottage. With a sweep of his sleeve, he summoned a mound of earth, while wisps of cloud beyond the cliff condensed into droplets of water. The long object wrapped in white cloth that he carried gradually returned to its original size under the guidance of his mana, and he gently laid it upon the ground.

Using the soil of Qixia Mountain mixed with the dew gathered from the mountain clouds, he carefully applied the damp earth over Honglian’s remains, little by little shaping the outline of a human figure. Looking toward the smiling woman standing in the doorway, Lu Liangsheng smiled in return.

His fingertips kneaded and smoothed the clay, sculpting her features, her graceful neck, then slowly working downward to form her slender figure. Following her appearance and attire from memory, he fashioned flowing robes upon the clay body, then summoned the Five Elements Fire Art to dry it before carefully applying paint to complete its likeness.

The scholar dipped his brush into ink and gently painted the clay figure’s eyes, placing two dark pupils upon the sculpted face. In an instant, the statue became strikingly lifelike.

“From this day onward, she is Honglian and Honglian is she.”

Setting down the brush, Lu Liangsheng sat in the doorway beside Honglian, quietly gazing at the motionless clay figure in the courtyard. “Your remains are inside it. From now on, you must never stray far from it. Perhaps one day, your mortal remains will be used to cultivate a Dharma Body. Then you’ll have flesh and blood once more, just as you did in life.”

“How long will that take?”

“Perhaps a year or two… perhaps twenty or thirty.” Lu Liangsheng held Honglian’s hand, though it was as intangible as air, a gentle smile on his face. “I’ll stay here on Qixia Mountain with you until the day you emerge.”

He patted his knees and rose from the stool. Using a spell, he shrank the clay statue before taking it with him. Opening his paper umbrella, he turned back toward Honglian.

“It’s time to go.”

The daylight drifted westward, sinking behind the mountain peaks as it transformed into crimson clouds that bathed the land below.

“Raise the main beam!”

The loud cry rang out across the newly built temple. A massive log, destined to serve as the main roof beam, was carried by eight sturdy men and slowly hoisted into place atop the hall. Perched on the roof, Lu Laoshi watched with a satisfied smile as the Mountain God Temple, now completely renewed, neared completion through the combined efforts of the villagers.

One after another, the bare-chested young men, drenched in sweat, lined up before a steaming cauldron to receive bowls of meat soup. Taking steamed buns from Lu Xiaoxian, they squatted on the ground, bit into the bread, then washed it down with piping hot broth, savoring the hearty meal with complete satisfaction.

The spring breeze of evening carried a trace of warmth through the mountain village. Old Master Lu, leaning on his pearwood cane, had once again forgotten the way home. In front of the fortune-telling stall, Wang Banxia, his hair and beard now white, looked every bit the reclusive sage. He walked ahead to guide the old man home, then sat upon the doorstep chatting idly with the family while admiring the evening glow beyond the courtyard. Listening to the sound of rice being washed inside, he was clearly planning to stay for dinner.

Before long, Lu Liangsheng passed by beneath his paper umbrella. Villagers returning from the Mountain God Temple greeted him one after another.

“Liangsheng, the temple’s finished!” “That’s right! We guarantee you’ll like it!”

“Oh, by the way, what are you building a temple for?”

“It has its purpose. Thank you all for your hard work. Another day, I’ll invite all of you uncles and aunties to my home for a proper feast.”

After exchanging a few more pleasantries and speaking briefly with his parents, he continued beneath the crimson glow until he arrived before the Mountain God Temple. Ascending the newly laid stone steps, he entered the main hall. The central altar, where the principal deity should have stood, was still empty.

He released Honglian’s clay statue from its shrunken state and guided it with his spiritual power, setting it gently upon the altar.

Beneath the umbrella, Honglian said nothing. She simply stood motionless at the temple entrance. After turning back from inside the hall, Lu Liangsheng took her hand and led her outside. Together they sat upon a fallen log lying across the ground, quietly gazing at the endless Qixia Mountains bathed in the crimson glow of the evening sun.

“I’ll wait for you—for the day you come out. If you ever grow lonely, visit me in my dreams. I’ll come and keep you company. And when the day comes that the incense offerings raise you to godhood, we’ll ride Old Donkey together once more and wander the Jianghu!”

Beneath the umbrella, Honglian said nothing. She merely tightened her grip on the man’s hand, gently resting her head upon his shoulder as she gazed toward Lu Family Village, where the dirt road disappeared into the distance.

“Will Lu Lang keep his word?”

“Haha, I give you my word!”

The soothing glow of the setting sun bathed Qixia Mountain in warm crimson. Before the temple gates, only the two of them remained, quietly taking in the peaceful scene until darkness slowly spread across the heavens.

Honglian rose and walked into the temple. She slowly turned around, offered Lu Liangsheng a graceful curtsy from the doorway, the sweet dimples upon her cheeks blooming into a beautiful smile. With a gentle sweep of her sleeve, she drifted into the clay statue upon the altar.

“Lu Lang, it’s getting late. You should go home.”

“I’ll come see you again tomorrow! I’ll bring you delicious offerings.”

Lu Liangsheng waved with a smile before finally turning to leave.

Early the next morning, he returned carrying a bamboo basket. Inside were white flour buns made by Li Jinhua, which he placed upon the offering table. He had also brought brush and ink. Standing before the divine statue, he rolled up his wide sleeves and, with steady strokes, inscribed a pair of couplets upon two long plaques:

Radiant rosy clouds shelter Qixia for a thousand years;

Divine majesty shakes heaven and earth with boundless might.

He hung them on either side of the temple entrance.

On the shorter plaque above the doorway, he wrote three simple characters: Temple of the Goddess Honglian.

The temple was finally beginning to look complete.

Time drifted quietly onward.

Leaves gradually gathered upon the newly tiled roof, while the once-pristine incense burner slowly filled with ash from countless sticks of incense. Spring gave way to summer, and the dense mountain forests echoed with the endless chorus of cicadas.

Lu Xiaoxian dressed herself in beautiful new clothes and sat in the main hall, glaring at the matchmaker who had come to propose a marriage. Up in the branches overhead, Sun Yingxian lounged lazily upon a tree limb. Casting an annoyed glance toward the hall, he formed a hand seal and secretly worked a spell, knocking the matchmaker’s stool out from beneath them and making them tumble in utter embarrassment. Satisfied, he turned back over, folded his hands beneath his head, and resumed reading his Daoist scripture.

Watching the uninvited matchmaker fall flat, Lu Laoshi let out a hearty chuckle from the side and was just about to applaud when his wife gave him a sharp kick. The pain nearly brought tears to his eyes.

Outside the courtyard, three boys who had grown noticeably taller clutched their books as they raced out of the village and up Qixia Mountain. Panting for breath, they bowed toward the Toad Daoist, who stood atop a large boulder wearing an apron, wooden ladle in hand, preparing breakfast.

“Good morning, Grandmaster!”

Then they dashed into the small courtyard before the thatched cottage, sat down neatly in a row, laid out their brushes, inkstones, paper, and ink, and began reading aloud from their books in clear, resonant voices.

Birds chirped as they fluttered over the cottage, alighting upon the old pine with cheerful cries. The pine branches swayed gently in the breeze.

Beneath the ancient tree, Lu Liangsheng, dressed in flowing white robes embroidered with cloud patterns, sat upon a stone stool with a scroll in hand, facing the sea of clouds as he read. Every so often, he would speak, calmly correcting a mistake made by one of the boys reciting in the courtyard.

The summer heat lingered.

Inside the cottage, through a half-open window, a stack of preserved painted skins upon the bookshelf slowly stirred. A gentle breeze drifted inside, transforming into the graceful figure of a beautiful woman with fluttering sleeves. She walked lightly to the window with lotus-like steps, rested her chin upon one hand, and quietly listened to the righteous cadence of the reading. Her bright eyes gazed toward the scholar beneath the old pine, while a captivating smile curved her crimson lips.

He was still just as handsome as ever.

The lush green mountains gradually turned golden as leaves withered and fell, before becoming blanketed in pure white snow.

Winter passed, and spring returned once more.

Time flowed onward, through verdant summers, golden autumns, white winters, and blossoming springs.

—End of Volume—