Chapter 13

◎Summoning the Divine◎  

Today’s lesson at Fusang Academy was somewhat unusual.  

“…Today, we shall discuss the Dao of summoning deities through fasting and rituals.”  

Glancing up at the plaque inscribed with “Virtual Imperial Altar,” Zhuoying followed the other students as they entered under the guidance of Lord Qing Yuan.  

Several white jade pillars encircled the entire altar, piercing through the clouds and supporting a realm shrouded in immortal mist.  

The group arrived at the center of the Virtual Imperial Altar, where countless divine statues of immortals surrounded them. Celestial magic converged into golden beams of light, while countless prayers from the mortal realm transformed into written characters, swirling upward like silk ribbons.  

Lord Qing Yuan came to a stop and casually pointed at one of the statues, moving it forward with a flick of his hand.  

“As immortals of the Supreme Purity Heavenly Palace, the ultimate purpose of cultivating celestial arts is to ward off calamities and fulfill the wishes of devotees—Jing Yuanqiu, step forward!”  

The named student inwardly cursed his luck as he raised a trembling hand and stepped forward.  

“A mortal student nearing examinations has made offerings to you, praying for success in their exams. How should you respond?”  

Hearing the name, Zhuoying, standing among the crowd, couldn’t help but glance curiously at Jing Yuanqiu.  

She knew of him—a renowned poet from a previous dynasty in the mortal realm, whose famous verses she could recite by heart.  

With the frail appearance of a scholar, he was clearly an immortal who had attained the Dao through literature. After a moment of contemplation, he answered softly:  

“I should bestow upon them literary inspiration to aid their examina—”  

“Wrong. One must handle their own affairs. Immortals are only responsible for warding off calamities, not aiding in cheating—this is a grave taboo. Copy the Heavenly Regulations one hundred times as punishment.”  

Though Lord Qing Yuan was not as towering or heroic as Divine Lord Feng Li, his stern impartiality made him even more imposing.  

“Next—Xie Cexuan.”  

The named youth stood at the very back of the crowd. When Zhuoying turned to look at him, she caught him mid-yawn.  

Meeting Lord Qing Yuan’s gaze, he slowly closed his mouth and smiled.  

“Ask away, Lord Qing Yuan.”  

“Two rival martial sects in the mortal realm have both made lavish offerings to you before battle, praying for success in their endeavors. Which side should you bless?”  

Xie Cexuan frowned.  

What kind of ridiculous question was this?  

“The one that paid more.”  

Lord Qing Yuan suppressed his irritation and patiently continued, “What if the side you bless annihilates the entire opposing sect, while the other side refrains from indiscriminate slaughter?”  

The question gave Xie Cexuan some pause, but it didn’t stump him for long.  

With a bright grin, he replied, “How am I supposed to know that? Might as well kill them all—peace for the world.”  

“…………”  

Lord Qing Yuan finally lost his patience. “Nonsense! You didn’t even think. If you put half as much effort into responding to devotees as you do into nonsense, you wouldn’t still be just a Young God of War—copy the *Scripture of Pure Heart* three hundred times as punishment.”  

The students collectively wept inwardly.  

He had only been an immortal for two centuries—being a Young God of War was already impressive!  

Xie Cexuan, too, was baffled. Wasn’t wiping them all out a grand act of merit?  

He felt like he was practically a paragon of justice.  

“Next—”  

Lord Qing Yuan’s gaze swept across the crowd before settling on Zhuoying.  

“Chi Shui Zhuo Ying.”  

All eyes turned toward her. Zhuoying blinked in surprise and reminded him:  

“Divine Lord, I don’t have any devotees in the mortal realm yet.”  

Lord Qing Yuan seemed taken aback.

Nowadays, the Immortal Realm and the mortal world were closely connected, with countless believers in deities. How could a human princess like her not have a single follower?

But he didn’t dwell on it. After all, Chi Shui Zhuo Ying hadn’t ascended through Merit, so it was understandable that commoners didn’t offer her incense.

Lord Qing Yuan studied her for a moment before speaking slowly:

“Then tell me, how do you plan to attract followers for yourself?”

This was an essential lesson for immortals to cultivate and the first challenge many newly ascended immortals faced.

Practicing immortal arts only required personal diligence.

But followers were different—people wouldn’t worship you just because you did good deeds.

Zhuoying hesitated slightly before asking, “Are there any standards for attracting followers?”

“Of course. The standards are to avoid creating evil karma and to never force others.”

Understanding the criteria, Zhuoying pondered briefly and replied gently:

“Then let’s start by giving out eggs.”

Everyone: ???

Even the usually stoic Lord Qing Yuan was taken aback. “What?”

Did she really say “give out eggs” and not something like talismans?

Meeting the astonished gazes around her, Zhuoying explained calmly:

“Though eggs are small, they are the most practical daily necessity for commoners. First, they can provide a meal for those who can’t afford food, which counts as Merit. Second, small benefits can raise awareness and encourage people to develop the habit of offering incense here, whether they have requests or not.”

“The more people come regularly to collect eggs, the more it will create the impression of a thriving temple. People tend to follow the crowd—if my temple is busy, even those who don’t know whether it’s effective will come to join in. Among so many, a few are bound to become my true followers. Once I’ve accumulated enough Merit, I can respond to their prayers, and the temple can officially operate.”

After this speech, the entire hall fell silent.

Was there really such a way to attract followers?

Ye Shi Yun, who was holding an Eight Trigrams Compass, snapped out of her daze and earnestly pulled out a notebook to jot this down.

In her mortal life, she had been a merchant’s daughter. After becoming an Academy Disciple, her greatest aspiration was to serve under the God of Wealth in the Directorate of Wealth.

Zhuoying’s method seemed less like attracting followers and more like conducting business.

Could she actually be a genius?!

Realizing this, Lord Qing Yuan’s expression darkened:

“As an orthodox immortal of the Heavenly Palace, there are things one must and must not do. If this method spreads, it would be no different from street peddling. What would become of the Heavenly Palace’s dignity?”

His words were sharp and stern, leaving the disciples in the hall holding their breaths, not daring to make a sound.

Zhuoying lowered her eyes. “But it doesn’t create evil karma, nor does it force anyone.”

“……”

Lord Qing Yuan could see in her gaze that she truly intended to go through with this.

Having the determination to be an immortal was commendable, but did she have to be this ruthless?!

After a long standoff, he reluctantly conceded:

“Even so, it lacks propriety. If word spreads, everyone will know you as the immortal who ascended by giving out eggs.”

Zhuoying instead looked at him curiously:

“As an immortal, shouldn’t the priority be to do practical things for the world as quickly as possible? What does personal reputation matter? I don’t quite understand your point, Lord Qing Yuan.”

Lord Qing Yuan: “…”

She had backed him into a corner!

As everyone knew, within Fusang Academy, Divine Lord Feng Li had a stern exterior but a warm heart—it was just that his imposing stature and majestic appearance struck fear into the hearts of the students.  

But Lord Qing Yuan was the cold, impartial judge.  

From the highest-ranking immortals of the upper three grades down to students like them in the Academy, no one who violated the heavenly laws could escape his merciless judgment.  

Yet now—  

There was nothing to criticize.  

Absolutely nothing.  

Even as the lesson concluded, Lord Qing Yuan’s expression remained tense.  

Perhaps truly fearing that Zhuoying might start handing out eggs in his temple, before leaving, Lord Qing Yuan racked his brains and finally came up with a solution that could barely preserve the dignity of the Supreme Purity Heavenly Palace.  

“—Take these Spirit Stones to the mortal realm. You may hire craftsmen to renovate your temple. Mortals judge by appearances before they judge character—if your temple is as magnificent and splendid as your sister’s, it will naturally attract worshippers over time.”  

Lord Qing Yuan retrieved all the wealth from his private treasury and solemnly placed it in Zhuoying’s hands.  

“Use these Spirit Stones to renovate your temple, purchase Magical Garments, Elixirs, or Magical Artifacts—anything you need. But there is one thing you absolutely must not do—”  

“Under no circumstances are you to spend them on distributing eggs.”  

—  

“…Stop counting. If you keep rubbing them, that bag of Spirit Stones is going to develop a patina.”  

In the Academy’s dining hall, Xie Cexuan, Fu Yao, and Zhuoying sat together at the same table.  

When Xie Cexuan was on his first bowl of rice, she was counting the Spirit Stones.  

By his third bowl, Chi Shui Zhuoying was still counting.  

When he was about to start his fifth bowl, she was preparing to count them all over again.  

Zhuoying slowly raised her head, her eyes filled with bewilderment:  

“Lord Qing Yuan… is actually this wealthy?”  

A total of 783,951 Spirit Stones. Having once managed the finances of the Barren Sea, Zhuoying wasn’t unfamiliar with such sums, but she had never seen anyone casually hand over such an amount to her.  

Fu Yao said, “Wrong. Lord Qing Yuan is the poorest among the upper three-grade immortals.”  

“Why?” Zhuoying thought carefully. “I remember there are many of his temples in the mortal realm. His reputation is quite widespread.”  

“A widespread reputation doesn’t mean abundant offerings. Lord Qing Yuan’s standing among mortals hasn’t been favorable in recent years.”  

Unfavorable reputation?  

Just as Zhuoying was about to press further, Xie Cexuan pointed at the mostly untouched spare ribs in front of her with his chopsticks and asked:  

“Can’t finish?”  

Zhuoying glanced at it. “Mm, but it’d be wasteful to leave it. I’ll take a break and then—”  

He reached over naturally, took the bowl without minding that she had already eaten from it, and swiftly polished off the remaining ribs, one piece at a time.  

“In the mortal realm, what mortals see and what immortals see are two entirely different things. You’ll understand once you go down there—oh, wait, I forgot. You don’t have any worshippers yet, so you can’t descend.”  

Zhuoying: “…”  

Zhuoying: “Who says I don’t? My first believer is already on the way.”  

—  

Mortal Realm, Ji City.  

The first spring after the ceasefire between humans and immortals brought abundant rainfall. The farmers living near Mount Yanjue, seasoned by experience, knew this year’s mountain harvest would be plentiful. Many ventured into the woods before dawn to forage.  

Five-year-old Xian Qing was among them.  

Her father needed money for liquor, her mother needed fabric to make new clothes for her younger brother—every corner of their home demanded funds. Carrying a large basket on her back, she had no idea how many mushrooms she’d need to gather before there’d be enough meat on the table for her to get even a single bite.  

It had been six months since she’d last tasted anything resembling meat.

Thinking of this, Xian Qing rubbed her stomach, which was only filled with a bit of rice soup, and continued to lower her head, diligently searching for mushrooms in the field.

But instead of finding mushrooms, a piece of paper drifted over from somewhere unknown.

Xian Qing picked it up and saw several neatly written lines. She held it and studied it for a long time.

“I can’t read it, but I can take it back to use in the outhouse.”

The little girl happily tossed the flyer that read “Princess Zhuo Ying’s Temple Grants All Wishes” into the basket on her back.

Xiao Liuer, hiding in the tree: “…”

Forgot—the little brat can’t read.

Xian Qing hadn’t gone far when another piece of paper fluttered down by her feet. But no matter how long she looked up, she couldn’t figure out where this strange paper had come from.

She picked it up. This time, it was a drawing.

This, she could understand. It was a house, with a graceful, floating fairy beside it, and a child with hands clasped together, making a wish.

Xiao Liuer thought, surely she’d get the message now?

Xian Qing: “…Yay, more paper for the outhouse tomorrow!”

“…”

Unable to bear it any longer, Xiao Liuer flipped down from the tree and grabbed the little girl, who wasn’t even as tall as her legs.

“If you dare use paper with the princess’s likeness to wipe your behind, I’ll spank you till it’s raw.”

Xian Qing was terrified.

Staring at the woman dressed in black who had appeared out of nowhere, all she could think of were the ghost stories the children whispered among themselves.

“Monster! It’s a monster!!”

The strength of a struggling child was nothing to scoff at. Xiao Liuer, afraid of hurting her, hadn’t held on too tightly, and before she knew it, the girl had broken free.

Only after snapping back to reality did she hear what the girl was shouting.

Oh no.

This wasn’t what the princess had instructed.

“I’m not a monster… Listen to me…”

“The monster’s chasing me! Help! I’m gonna get eaten!!”

Far away in the Supreme Purity Heavenly Palace, Xie Cexuan, Fu Yao, and Zhuoying watched this scene through the water mirror:

“…”

Xie Cexuan chuckled. “Tell me, which one’s your believer again?”

Zhuoying fell silent.

She felt that no matter who she named at this point, it would be pretty embarrassing.

But she kept a straight face, ignoring Xie Cexuan’s mockery, and asked Fu Yao:

“I recall the Texts mention that while Immortals cannot descend to the mortal realm at will, there is a technique called ‘Thousand-Mile Voice Transmission’ that allows communication with mortals. Do it for me.”

Fu Yao thought back. This was a technique he’d only begun learning in his tenth year of cultivation.

…Could she really have memorized all the books?

Once Fu Yao performed the voice transmission, Xian Qing, who was running around like a headless chicken in Yanjue Mountain, suddenly heard a cool, gentle voice in her mind:

*I am the Mountain God of Yanjue. Have you called upon me?*

Fu Yao stared at Zhuoying, who was spinning tales with a straight face, his mouth slowly falling open.

She really dared to make this up!

Zhuoying saw nothing wrong with it.

When out in the world, identities were self-bestowed. If an Immortal didn’t have a bit of grandeur and style, how could they awe mortals into reverence and faith?

Sure enough, the little girl froze.

“I… did I?”

Zhuoying thought to herself—today, whether you did or didn’t, it doesn’t matter. This believer was hers now.

*You seem to be in some danger. But only if you become my believer can I answer your call, ward off calamities, and protect your safety.*

The little girl was running so hard that she was drenched in sweat. Hearing the coaxing voice in her head, she felt utterly bewildered.

Was it really an Immortal?

Could an Immortal truly save her?

But back when her father used to beat her, she had secretly lit incense before the family shrine too.

No Immortal had ever paid her any heed.

Zhuoying gazed at the dazed little girl fleeing for her life in the water mirror, momentarily lost in thought.

She wondered if she had looked just as foolish when she was a child, starving and bullied.

[Little girl, if you don’t make a decision soon, the Monster behind you will catch up.]

These words finally snapped Xian Qing back to reality.

She turned her head and saw the tall, slender woman dressed in black right behind her.

Terrified, she burst into tears: “Save me! Fairy Sister, save me! I believe you!”

In an instant.

With her plea, Zhuoying suddenly sensed a faint stream of spiritual energy coursing through her tattered meridians.

Like a drop of water soaking into a parched desert, it vanished the moment it touched the ground.

But that fleeting surge was enough to meet the conditions for her descent to the mortal realm.

Just as Xian Qing was about to be caught by Xiao Liuer—

A gentle mountain breeze arose.

Xiao Liuer paused mid-motion, sensing something, and looked up toward the clouds where faint strains of Celestial Music drifted.

A mist-like silk shawl swept across the sky, and snow-white skirt fluttered like layers of blooming petals. A fairy with her hair elegantly coiled descended from the heavens, her figure as light as the wind, so ethereal that one dared not make a sound for fear of disturbing the celestial being.

The fairy, riding the wind, landed before the dumbstruck little girl.

Zhuoying curved her lips, her transcendent face graced with a faint smile:

“Good girl.”

“This is your reward.”

Xian Qing looked down.

In the hands of the Fairy Sister, more beautiful than any painting, was a fragrant boiled egg.

Author’s Note:

Meanwhile, in the Heavenly Palace:

Xie Cexuan: Playing music.

Fu Yao: Exerting all his lifelong skills to remotely control the Wind Riding Talisman.

—

Thank you to the little angels who nourished with nutrient solutions: Xiao Liu must get ashore, Ye Qingwei 5 bottles; Today I love the author even more, Xie Fanqing, Cui Chanchan, Silent Four Seasons, Li Li, Absolutely Perfect, One Hundred Ways to Cook Mackerel 1 bottle;