Chapter Text
Lei Zhi walked around the temple he and his nephew had built together, looking for any faults and cracks that might have shown up. He was fairly confident in his many decades of being an architect but it didn't hurt to check again- after all this was Chang Bin’s first big project as an aspiring sculptor and to gain the opportunity to sculpt a god ascended from their own nation was the greatest honour and more importantly, an excellent opportunity to secure further projects.
Chang Bin himself had been rather excitable about it all- for someone who liked burying himself in his workshop, he had wandered to many other temples to gain insights and avoid taboos. He only wished that enthusiasm hadn't resulted in the ugly statue he had brought back to be placed at the entrance.
At first glance, it seemed to be a lowly person with their belly to the ground. A closer look showed a face weeping and wailing like a stray dog- truly too uncomfortable to look at.
“This is what all the good temples have,” he had insisted. “Stepping on it is supposed to ward off bad luck.”
Personally, he thought that pitiful statue ruined whatever fengshui the temple had but his nephew was rather adamant on keeping it.
Lost in his thoughts, he almost walked into a pair of cultivators on his way back to the temple. The younger one supporting him in time was the only reason he didn't trip to the floor and break his old bones- how embarrassing!
“Ah, I am so sorry-”
“No need for that,” the young man waved his apology away with a grin and patted his hand. “Just be more careful from now on, lao ren.”
“Many thanks, daozhang!” he couldn't help but smile back as he bowed and the young man returned it.
The other cultivator wearing a mask- ai, that Fangxin Guoshi! Him and that silver mask truly had started a trend among cultivators- nodded at him as he passed by them and inside the temple.
He turned back on feeling a sharp glance only to see the masked cultivator look at the kneeling statue near him with an unreadable look. The next moment, he was dragging his companion away.
“Something came up-” was all he could hear before both of them disappeared from view. Lei Zhi frowned in confusion and yet wished the two would be safe and sound- it is quite rare to see polite and humble cultivators like those two.
Chang Bin was glaring at the statue and muttering to himself as two worshippers offering incense shot him puzzled glances.
“I thought royalty were supposed to be more handsome than this,” one of them, a young girl, mumbled as she squinted at the statue.
“That's only in the stories you read,” the older one said, laughter evident in her voice.
“He is a martial god. They are supposed to be fiercer than this,” Chang Bin burst out, startling the two.
The woman dragged her daughter out without a single look in his direction and Lei Zhi laughed even as his nephew shot him a pitiful look.
“The god is still a beloved prince,” he consoled, the effort ruined by him still grinning at his nephew. “Of course, the higher ups want him to look a little more appealing. If you are still sulking about-”
“Aha!” a voice sounded from the entrance as the same young cultivator appeared, his hair a little tousled by the wind as he strode in with quick, confident steps as if he owned the temple himself.
“Now what exactly was my shifu hiding from-”
And Lei Zhi could pinpoint the moment the man lost his easy grin that twisted into a blank expression- the moment his eyes flashed with recognition as he looked at the statue.
“A-Qiu!” another voice called out just as he knelt in front of the statue and the masked cultivator arrived, not giving either of them a glance as he walked in.
“How many of these statues have you seen?” the young man asked his companion, his voice as flat as his face. “Many enough to recognise it from the back, shifu?”
The masked cultivator was silent, clearly weighing in how to delicately break the subject to his student who was clearly distressed for the statue when his nephew without the ability to read the damn room piped up from the side.
“The ‘crown prince atonement statues’ are everywhere,” Chang Bin said, eager to share his knowledge as always. “So it isn't surprising-”
“The what statues?” the young one cried out, agitation colouring his voice and features.
“I am more surprised that those things have an actual name,” his masked companion mused from the side where he had knelt down to inspect the statue.
“The unlucky plague god who doomed his country and his people,” Chang Bin stated.
Lei Zhi, as focused on his nephew as he was, didn't notice the masked cultivator freeze for a second before relaxing, his lips curling into a self-deprecating smile. He only heard the little clink-clink of metal from the man absentmindedly flicking his fingers on the statue.
“What nonsense are you spouting!” the young cultivator exclaimed. “And who put this here?” he demanded with a blazing glare promising retribution on anyone who did.
“I did!” Chang Bin replied, pride evident in his voice. “Our Taizi Dianxia freed his people's spirits and ascended to the heavens so it is very fitting, isn't it?”
Lei Zhi’s hand twitched as he held himself back from smacking his palm on his forehead- or better yet, smacking the back of his nephew’s head.
“I apologise for my student’s bluntness,” the masked cultivator cut in, finally done with poking the statue. “But this truly does affect the fengshui of this wonderful temple. Perhaps it is for the best it you had it removed-”
“That is enough!” Chang Bin shouted. “It's one thing if the noble funding this is being overly harsh, who are you two to question me?”
He was a novice sculptor fresh out of his apprenticeship, one very frustrated at not having a bigger role in making decisions on the temple’s construction. His patience waned with every probing question and it had finally snapped.
“I created Dianxia's statue here,” Chang Bin pointed at the shrine, continuing his tirade. “And my uncle is the architect in charge. We built this temple together, who the hell are you to demand-”
“This is my damn temple!” The young cultivator burst out, hands up in frustration. “Surely this God is allowed to speak of what he wants, oh master sculptor?” he continued, staring them down with a scowl impressively similar to the fierce expression from the Martial God statue.
Lei Zhi blinked and it took a few seconds for his words to sink in.
Oh.
Oh.
His Highness Tai Hua, the God enshrined in the very temple they were all standing in, took in a deep breath to rein his temper in and once again asked, “So? Where did you get this?”
“We- ah, we have a place-” Chang Bin stuttered, shaking like a willow leaf as he finally realised who exactly was criticising his terrible statue choices. “A place where these statues are sold at very low prices. And these are pretty damn expressive- just look at this craftmanship-”
Lei Zhi let out a strangled sound of despair when his nephew started to praise the statue, thankfully the beginnings of his monologue were interrupted in time.
“Well, the face is pretty accurate,” the masked cultivator, Fangxin Guoshi (The Fangxin Guoshi!) mused, his hand lightly brushing against the cheek of the weeping statue. “Just not the expression. Or that posture-”
Crack!
Even the seemingly serene Fangxin Guoshi couldn't help but flinch as hairline fractures suddenly spread through from where their Taizi Dianxia had brushed a hand against the statue and in an instance-
The metal statue was entirely reduced to dust!
The temple descended into a tense silence broken only by a sharp wind that whistled around them and blew whatever remained of that statue away.
“Qi Rong,” Fangxin Guoshi stated, apropos of nothing as he stood up from the remains of the statue and dusted his knees.
“Qi Rong!” their Dianxia spat. “He is gone and still being an annoyance, that bastard! My ascension could have waited till I was done beating him up to a second death, dammit!”
Lei Zhi met Chang Bin’s confused gaze and shook his head slightly. He too had no idea what or who they were talking about.
“That's the ghost who commissions those statues,” Fangxin Guoshi offered them an explanation. “He does love making his cousin's life difficult. Well, he did till Qianqiu here sent him off to the underworld.”
Lei Zhi nodded in a daze and started in another realization, dragging his nephew who had shuffled closer to him into a knowtow- or he would have done that if a pair of strong arms weren't holding them both back from bowing at all.
“Please don't!” Lang Qianqiu exclaimed as he released them from his strong grip. “There is no need for any bowing! Or kneeling! Or anything really-”
Lei Zhi almost smiled at seeing a true immortal acting so flustered and human-
“I am not supposed to be showing myself to mortals anyways,” he continued. “And-”
“Now Dianxia remembers the law that forbids a Heavenly Official from direct interactions with mortals,” Fangxin Guoshi interrupted his chatter with a gaze that had the God withering, the very picture of a student who was caught breaking rules.
“But shifu,” Lang Qianqiu whined. “They were insulting y-him! And those things are everywhere?”
“You are an exalted Crown Prince of Yong’an,” Fangxin Guoshi began, his voice soft. “And he was an infamous nation-destroying Crown Prince. One that was defeated by your ancestor Lang Ying who created a flourishing nation from the ashes of his dying kingdom.”
“Naturally, a comparison is made.”
“Naturally? Naturally??” Lang Qianqiu asked, his voice shaking with anger. “As if there was anything natural about how my ancestor tormented everyone in Cang City!”
“You will find more of these stories with his……former attendant gods,” Fangxin Guoshi continued, a little wry. “A poor bullied servant facing a tyrannical overlord, an underdog fighting against an arrogant prince- people love creating stories like those for their gods. And he makes for a good foil.”
“That's awful, shifu.” Lang Qianqiu whispered, his tone distraught.
“I am sure he had had worse than some stupid statue-” Fangxin Guoshi’s soothing voice stuttered to a halt as tears rolled down his student’s cheek.
“Why are you always crying, hmm,” he murmured helplessly, lightly stroking his student’s head as his expression turned even more aggrieved. “It's fine, it's okay-”
“It is just some god-”
“He saved my life!” Lang Qianqiu thundered, interrupting Chang Bin’s mutinous muttering from the side as he fished out a talisman from his sleeves. “When I was young, that Qi Rong- he almost haunted me to death and with this protective talisman, he saved me from him, his biaodi! Lang Ying cursed his people, ruined his life and he still saved me- his descendant!”
Lei Zhi’s eyes widened as he remembered- a decade past, the young heir was said to have been plagued by a deadly illness. Their Majesties had spared no expense in searching for experts all over their nation and even beyond but he had almost passed before he got better all thanks to a nameless cultivator.
A few years later, he was well enough to lead an inspection tour and a masked cultivator saved him from a horde of demons. A ridiculous thought suddenly struck through his mind and he shook it off- as much as it would explain the mystery behind his mask, they surely can't be the same person!
And to think his nephew had put up his savior in such a position-
“Who the hell are you trying to insult with that thing? And in my own damn temple-” Lang Qianqiu once again took a deep breath to collect himself as he noticed the fear shuddering through the two mortals.
His voice became calmer as he continued. “Even if it was that bastard Qi Rong who had such a statue, I would still say it is wrong.” He glanced at his nephew, his reddened eyes shining with unshed tears and said, "Not wanting others to feel pain and humiliation, that is called having a basic sense of decency!”
Chang Bin looked sufficiently chastised as he stuttered out an apology with a deep bow.
“Gods are just humans who ascend,” Fangxin Guoshi added, a small smile on his face. “They feel the same as us mortals, their hearts are not made of stone. They are also not that omniscient and invincible, I am afraid.”
Looking back at his student, he continued, "This young man is just enthusiastic to contribute to your temple. Now that the misunderstanding is resolved, let's put this behind us, hmm?”
“And really, Qianqiu! Just send a dream to your followers if you have any requests regarding your temples instead of scaring them stiff like this.”
"Yes, shifu," Lang Qianqiu nodded along, taking in the chiding with good grace.
“How about I tell them all this,” he then declared, clearing his throat. “If you dare set one of these kneeling statues in my temples- any temples at all, I will dare to call onto Xueyu Tanhua-”
“Are you asking to get your temples burnt?” Fangxin Guoshi asked, trying his best to sound stern even as his lips twitched with amusement. “Be more nice to your worshippers.”
“Xuan Zhen being petty enough to smash down his own statues if they don't look the exact same as him is acceptable,” Lang Qianqiu shot back. “But this isn't?”
“Whyever did I think asking a Ghost King to educate you on the Heavenly Realm was a good idea, hmm?” Fangxin Guoshi had given up on maintaining a stern face and was helplessly grinning at his student.
“Guoshi didn't ask just one Ghost King,” Lang Qianqiu recalled, his mouth curving up in a little smile at last, “he asked two.”
“He-” Fangxin Guoshi stuttered, crossing his arms. “I didn't even know he was one back then.”
“You knew he hated the heavens, Guoshi,” Lang Qianqiu said in a teasing voice, his grin widening even more.
“Forget Ghost Kings, I would even ask the Shenwu Emperor if he was skilled enough to keep you awake throughout a single class!”
Lei Zhi snorted and tried not to laugh further as Lang Qianqiu flushed and pouted at the fond admonishment. “My nephew always sleeps at classes when it doesn't involve sculpting,” he added, nudging his nephew who exchanged a commiserating look with the young God.
“Children, they are all the same,” Fangxin Guoshi said, his tone oddly nostalgic for someone who looked too young. “Even I used to only adore my martial art sessions when I was young.”
“And we should leave, Dianxia,” he continued as he walked towards the entrance. “It is truly not appropriate to break the rules any further.” Turning back to him and Chang Bin, he added, “Please say this conversation was a dream if anyone asks.”
The young God once again had his gaze on his nephew and before Lei Zhi could get anxious again, he broke out into a wide smile.
“I almost forgot to say- this statue is amazing!” Lang Qianqiu praised, clapping his nephew’s shoulder. “You did well, Chang Bin! I look forward to your other works!”
“Impressive sculpting for a beginner,” Fangxin Guoshi added. “Keep it up.”
“That's high praise coming from Guoshi, you know?” Lang Qianqiu said with a sly grin. “He got too used to his ghost carving up the most amazing-”
“Qianqiu!” Fangxin Guoshi interrupted his teasing. “We are leaving. Now.” With a parting nod, he glided out of the temple so gracefully that Lei Zhi didn't notice his ears were tinged red.
Lang Qianqiu waved at them as he walked backwards towards the entrance. “Goodbye! Take care of yourselves!” And with a finger against his lips, he added with a shushing motion. “And please do not tell even a single soul!”
Chang Bin looked blankly at the temple entrance for almost an entire stick of incense time after the duo had left before snapping out of it and let out a sudden whoop, jumping up and down in excitement.
“Oh heavens! Our God, he praised me! Praised my work! In person!”
“And I knew those pictures weren't accurate! Jiujiu, I need to sketch his portrait to sculpt a better one,” Chang Bin continued, his eyes sparkling with a new found determination as he ran towards the entrance. “I will be at the workshop, bye!”
Lei Zhi heard a thump and a muffled yelp as his overexcited nephew almost slipped in the mossy passage and the clatter of his feet becoming more and more distant as he left and chuckled- What a day!
Lei Zhi sat on the floor of their home, leaning up against the wall as he heard the sounds of his nephew chipping away at the stone in his workshop nearby.
He examined the protective talisman clutched in his hands- Lei Zhi had only intended to ask his neighbours about Fangxin Guoshi to know more and Lao Chen had gone into a detailed story of how the said man had rescued him from a pair of fierce ghosts during his travels. The Guoshi had then personally made Lao Chen a bunch of talismans, one of which the kindly old man had insistently stuffed into his hands.
It looked the exact same as the one His Highness Tai Hua was waving around as he heatedly spoke up for the Xianle Dianxia.
He then recalled how the masked daozhang- Fangxin Guoshi- had tried to lead their God from his temple by just seeing a glimpse of the kneeling statue from behind- he must have seen a lot of them like their Dianxia said.
His resigned tone as he explained why a god- him- was mocked and trampled by all.
His worries over how his student- their God- would be perceived by others rather than himself.
His kindness in rescuing their Dianxia over and over regardless of prior bloody history with the Yong’an Imperial Founder.
(He did note to himself to ask around about the rumours of Xueyu Tanhua being involved at one point- the two did seem to be more than acquainted with the pair of so-called Ghost Kings.)
Such kindness, maintained through even the worst suffering and pain, is the most admirable thing he had seen in his life.
For the first time in his life, he felt genuine devotion towards an immortal. One who was said to be the infamous God of Misfortune at that.
He could already imagine what his nephew might say about him bringing bad luck and other superstitious nonsense. He still resolved that he would honor this kind immortal with a shrine- a humble one since that was all he could afford.
And he had a feeling a forgotten god of a fallen kingdom choosing to guide and guard their cherished Taizi Dianxia would be a much better received story to the people of Yong’an than a paltry comparison.
Propping each other up rather than tearing the other down is what the two would prefer.
Recalling the teacher-student duo, he nodded to himself, already cataloging what wood and stone he should be buying to build a shrine in the nearby patch of land.
He imagined the face of the immortal with the kind smile of the masked Guoshi. What would the person who made those terrible statues think of this “help”, he wondered.
He had heard many iterations of how Fangxin Guoshi had used a mere flowering branch to defeat countless demons. On a whim, he decided to add a sprig of peach flowers, one that was held by the god as he would a jian.
What he didn't know was the sheer accuracy of how his little shrine resembled some of the less affluent Flower Crowned Martial God temples of old. How a while later, a couple gods experienced sheer shock on seeing their former Dianxia prayed to in a place unexpected as Yong'an.
And thus began a slow but steady spread of shrines- humble or grand, masked or unmasked, alone or accompanied by a youth in crimson- their hands entwined with a red string of fate.