Upon the Grand Avenue of Divine Might, A Fleeting Glimpse of Beauty
The sword thrust, penetrating the heart of the ghost, and killed it dead on the ground.
"By heaven's blessings, ghosts are slayed and evil is subdued!"
On either side of the Martial Deity Avenue, cheers erupted like an ocean current, coming in waves after waves, each one higher than the other. Before the crimson-red gates of the palace, in the courtyard, the two cultivators who played the roles of god and ghost bowed to the surrounding crowds and stepped down, standing off to the side. The martial match that opened the act heightened the excitement in the city; not only were the streets elbow-to-elbow crowded, even the roofs were littered with brave climbers, clapping, hollering; the crowds were going wild.
A celebration of this magnitude was truly brimming and bustling. In the history of the Kingdom of Xianle, if any festival of Shangyuan¹ was to be described thus, it must be the one happening today!
Upon the towering platform, a row of finely- dressed royals and nobles, all wearing courteous smiles on their faces, looked over below to the crowd. Within the palace, a long line of hundreds waited silently.
When the bell chimed, Guoshi smoothed his non-existent moustache and called, "Path-Opening Warriors!"
"Present!"
"Crown Prince's Celestial fairies!"
"Present!"
"Musicians!"
"Present!"
"Calvary!"
"Present!"
"Ghost!"
"Present!"
"The God-Pleasing Martial Warrior!"
No one answered. Guoshi frowned, noticing a complication, and turned his head.
"The God-Pleasing Martial Warrior? Where's the Crown Prince?"
Still, no one responded. The one who answered to "ghost" earlier hesitated, then removed the horrifying mask, revealing a clean, pale face.
This young man appeared to be about sixteen or seventeen. His skin and lips were both light in colour, fresh and neat, with a pair of eyes black like obsidian, shining bright. His hair was soft and silky, a few loose strands lightly littered on his forehead and cheeks. He looked quiet and obedient, contrasting with the monstrous mask in his hand.
He replied quietly, "His Highness the Crown Prince has left."
Guoshi almost fainted. But, for the sake of this grand occasion he couldn't faint, so he held on, and shouted with angry exasperation, "Wha—?! He left?! When did His Highness leave?? The ceremonial parade is about to leave the palace gates!! When the grand stage is revealed and there's only a ghost but no god, my old bones won't be able to swim out of all the spit that'll come flying at me! Mu Qing, why didn't you stop him???"
Mu Qing lowered his head. "When His Highness left he told me to pass on the message, saying not to worry, and everything can go as planned. He will return promptly."
Guoshi was hysterical. "How can I not worry? What do you mean, 'promptly'? When is 'promptly'? What if he doesn't make it??"
Outside the palace gates, some of the people who had been waiting since early morning were losing patience and were noisily demanding for the event to start. A cultivator came rushing forward.
"My Lord Guoshi, the queen sent a messenger asking why the parade hasn't started? The fortuitous hour² is fast approaching, if we don't leave now, we'll miss it!"
Hearing this, Guoshi prayed that a rebel army would suddenly invade and disrupt the Shangyuan Parade completely.
That this headache would happen right at the most crucial moment!
If this Headache was anyone else, he would've roared with rage already; even raising his sword to kill wouldn't be strange. But, this Headache just so happened to be his pride and joy, and the very, very, very distinguished, precious son of another. He couldn't beat him, he couldn't yell at him, and he definitely couldn't kill him. Rather than kill him, he'd more likely kill himself!
Just then, someone ran across the black palace path, rushing into the palace, shouting, "Lord Guoshi, why hasn't the parade started? The time is about to pass, everyone outside is on edge!"
The one who came was also a young man of sixteen or seventeen, his form upright and tall, his skin the colour of wheat, his back carried a long black bow and a snow-white quiver. His lips were pressed tight, his brows knit. Even at such a young age his eyes were strong and determined. The moment Guoshi saw him, he grabbed him.
"Feng Xin! Where's His Highness??"
Feng Xin was taken aback, but instantly appeared to have understood something, and anger filled his eyes, turning his gaze to Mu Qing. As for Mu Qing, he had already put his ghost mask back on without a word, his expression unseen.
Feng Xin said gravely, "There's no time to explain! Please start the parade immediately, His Highness the Crown Prince will not disappoint you!"
There was no escape. Bringing out a grand stage without the God-Pleasing Martial Warrior was death; delaying the procession and missing the fortuitous hour was also death. Despairingly, Guoshi waved his hand.
"Start the music; depart!"
Upon receiving the command, the flutes and strings started to play, and the hundreds of royal warriors at the front of the procession cried, beginning their march, leading the massive, impressive parade. They had departed!
The warriors at the front symbolized the thorny paths of the mortal world. Immediately following were the virgin girls specially chosen, beautiful and elegant, a basket in their hands, tossing flowers in the air like fairies, paving the path with blossoms and filling it with fragrance. The musicians rode in carriages of gold. The moment the procession left the palace gates, the crowds were amazed and astonished, fighting to catch the flowers. However, no matter how glamorous, how grand, this was only the warm-up act. The grand float, a glorious stage, was about to emerge.
Sixteen white stallions decked in gold pulled the grand stage from the depths of the palace gates, slowly coming into sight before the eyes of millions. On the stage was a black clad ghost, a monstrous mask on his face, a nine-foot long sabre in his hand before him; gravely, he shifted to a fighting stance.
Guoshi's heart was tense, waiting for a miracle. Yet, no miracles happened. The crowd broke into chatter. Above on the high platform, the royals and nobles frowned, looking at each other, all wondering,
"What's going on? Why is the God-Pleasing Martial Warrior not on stage?"
"Has His Highness the Crown Prince not arrived yet?"
"Where's Lian-gege?"
At the centre of the tall platform sat a dignified, handsome man, and a pale-skinned, amiable, and gracious noble woman. They were the king and queen of the Kingdom of Xianle. Not seeing the one who should be there, the queen appeared worried and gave the king a look. The king took hold of her hand, using his gaze to comfort, telling her not to worry, and to watch and see what would happen. The crowds below, however, had no one to comfort them, and yelled crazedly, the shouting so loud it could almost raise roofs. The Guoshi could only hate himself for not having the courage to kill himself right there and then. Yet, Mu Qing who was on stage was quite calm. Even without his opponent he looked at ease, taking care of his own mission, and CLANG, threw his heavy sabre down, resting it upright before him.
Performing a round of chilling slaughter, the black-clad youth impressively ended the opening act of becoming a "ghost".
By face and by form, Mu Qing was delicate and elegant like a gentle scholar, but an impossibly heavy nine-foot long sabre was still swung like it was feather-light in his hands; as if it was weightless. Another group of cultivators playing ghosts leapt onto the stage—they were instantly defeated, and chased off the stage. The sword danced skillfully, calm and collected, and made the performance quite exciting to watch, so some in the crowds cheered for him. However, the people didn't come to watch "Ghosts Causing Havoc", so after that act there were more noise demanding,
"Where's the God-Pleasing Martial Warrior??"
"Where's His Highness the Crown Prince??"
"We want to see His Highness playing the Great Martial Emperor! Defeat evil!"
Upon the towering platform, a furious voice shouted, "Where's my cousin? What the hell!! Who wants to watch this bullshit? Where the fuck is my cousin the Crown Prince???"
No need to see who it was; obviously that loud voice belonged to none other than Qi Rong, the Prince Xiao Jing. Sure enough, many looked up and saw a young man finely-dressed in a light turquoise brocade and a necklace rush to the edge of that platform, raising his fists angrily. This young man was no more than fifteen or sixteen, his face pale and his brows black, rather good-looking; but his face was twisted, as if he would jump off the tower at any time to punch someone. However, the tower was too tall, so if he jumped he'd break his legs, if not die. So instead, he grabbed a white jade teapot and threw it.
That thrown teapot was aimed directly at the back of the head of the ghost, flying at him speedily, looking like it might knock him out on the spot; surprisingly, the ghost shifted his body, raised the long sabre slightly, and caught the teapot on his blade.
The quivering teapot came to a stop at the tip of the blade, prompting another wave of cheers. Mu Qing then flicked the long sabre and the teapot was hurled into the air, later caught by someone below the stage. He continued to play the role of the ghost languidly, swinging the long sabre, slaughtering humans. Qi Rong was enraged and was going to throw something else but the queen had ordered someone to drag him down, and so he was dragged down reluctantly. Yet, the faces of the nobles were looking more and more grim, some becoming restless.
That the God-Pleasing Martial Warrior would disappear right before the Heavenly Procession of the Shangyuan Festival was no laughing matter!
Just then, a roaring cheer like a storm exploded from amongst the people, louder than the cheers from before. A snow-white silhouette had descended from the sky, and landed right before the black-clad ghost!
Upon his landing, his heavy white dress fluttered and covered the grand stage in the shape of a giant flower, a golden mask hiding his face. He held a sword in one hand; the other gently flicked the foreboding sword, the resounding ringing pleasing to the ear. This gesture was serene and confident, as if the ghost meant nothing to him. The ghost slowly raised his long sabre and pointed it at him, and the white-clad martial warrior unhurriedly rose to his feet.
Qi Rong's eyes were shining brightly, his face red. He jumped up and down, shouting, "Cousin Crown Prince! COUSIN CROWN PRINCE HAS COME!!!"
Above and below, all were stunned to silence.
This entrance was like a real descent of a heavenly being, exceedingly audacious!
That fortress tower was at least over ten meters tall, and as the eminent Crown Prince whose person was worth a thousand gold, he still jumped down from it! In that moment, thousands had thought a god had truly descended. When they recovered from their shock, fervor filled their veins; the crowd went hysterical, applauding with intensity. Qi Rong too was shouting, leading the crowd in mad applause, shouting until his voice was hoarse, clapping until both his hands were red. The king and the queen shared a look, smiling, and applauded too. The rest of the nobles eased their brows and sighed a breath of relief before joining in the cheer. On either side of the Martial Deity Avenue, crowds were going wild like crashing waves; hundreds and thousands of men so excited they pushed against the royal guards, wanting to approach closer and holler.
Upon the grand stage, two forms, one black, one white, faced each other. Each with their own weapon in hand, God and Ghost would finally face off.
Seeing that everything worked out, Guoshi finally relaxed his shoulders and mounted the towering platform. After nodding to his fellows in greeting, he found a seat for himself and sat down.
The king chuckled, "Guoshi, how did you come up with such an exhilarating entrance? How exciting."
Guoshi wiped sweat from his face and smiled. "It's indeed exciting. But unfortunately, this lowly servant didn't come up with it. I'm afraid it's His Highness the Crown Prince's own idea."
The queen patted her heart. "That mischievous child. To jump from such a height without a word of warning! I almost stood up in fright."
Guoshi couldn't help but lace his words with pride, "My lady queen can be at ease. The martial might of His Highness the Crown Prince is extraordinary. Tens of meters is nothing to him, and even with towers that are many times higher, he can easily mount and easily jump with his eyes closed."
The queen appeared pleased and said gently, "Thanks to the teachings of Guoshi."
Guoshi laughed. "It's nothing, it's nothing. His Highness the Crown Prince, darling of the heavens, is divinely gifted, marvelously talented, and graciously brilliant. It is the fortune collected for three lifetimes that gave this lowly servant the chance to become his teacher. I have a premonition that with His Highness the Crown Prince's presence, today will go down in history as the most impressive Martial Match of the God-Pleasing Ceremony."
His words of praise were smooth and alluded the heavens. The king smiled and turned his head back to watch the performance.
"I hope that's the case."
In the Heavenly Procession of the Shangyuan Festival, the God-Pleasing Martial Warrior and the Ghost were the two most important roles. Both must be young men exceedingly skilled in martial arts. Especially the God-Pleasing Martial Warrior: the presentation and make of his costume were strict, transcendently glamourous; after dressing, the weight of everything worn came to be about forty to fifty pounds. The Martial Warrior must, under this heavy burden, before the eyes of millions, march around the capital many times, and perform in the martial match for at least four hours. There must be no mistakes made throughout, and so, the performer must be extraordinarily skilled.
Fortunately, both young men were exceedingly talented. The sabre parried with the sword, one slashed, another struck; the thrilling match was a sight to behold. The moves were also calculated to the minutest detail, obviously having been practiced and rehearsed a number of times.
"Who's the one playing the ghost and parrying with the Crown Prince?" the king asked.
Guoshi cleared his throat. "Your majesty, he's a young trainee from the Royal Holy Pavilion. His name is Mu Qing."
The queen said gently, "I see that child is also rather skilled in fighting, just a bit weaker than my son. Maybe about the same level as Feng Xin?"
Guoshi didn't appear to agree with her sentiment. Qi Rong had been laying on the lap of the queen munching on grapes, and spat out the skins in a rush.
"Psh, psh, psh! No way, no way! Not just a bit weaker, he's farrrr weaker! Not just anyone can compare to cousin Crown Prince!"
Hearing this, the queen patted his head, smiling, and the rest of the nobles all laughed, their bodies swaying back and forth in mirth. They teased, "Little Rong certainly clings to his cousin! If he doesn't praise him for a day he's miserable."
Down below in the crowd, the cheers and hollers were rising to the heavens: "FIGHT! FIGHT! KILL HIM!"
"SLAY THE EVIL!"
The roars of excitement were growing stronger. Qi Rong was also adding to the noise, both his hands around his mouth like a trumpet, shouting and laughing.
"COUSIN CROWN PRINCE, GO! YOU CAN EASILY KNOCK HIM DOWN WITH ONE HAND, SHOW HIM HOW IT'S DONE!"
Suddenly, the ghost on the stage slashed forward. The Martial Warrior repelled the attack with his sword, but "hmm?"-ed.
Technically, during the Heavenly Parade, the martial match was a performance for pleasing the gods, and at most one should only use a seventh of their power, ceasing after swords touch. However, with the strike he received just now, the sword in his hand almost flew out. Obviously his opponent had used all of his might in that blow.
Xie Lian raised his head slightly and called out, "Mu Qing?"
The young man playing the ghost didn't say a word, and slashed at him again. Xie Lian had no time to think, and received one attack after the other, their weapons clanging.
"Well, this is more exciting than fake play," Xie Lian thought, and his spirit heightened, getting more into the fight.
Thus, under the crashing roar of cheers, the weapons clashed and sparks flew. The more invigorating the fight was on stage, the louder the cheers below. Suddenly, there was a deafening schwing, white light flashed, and the crowd "ah"-ed, their breaths held. That nine-foot long sabre of the ghost was snapped out of his hand by the long slender sword of the God-Pleasing Martial Warrior, and it flew toward a stone pillar of the towering platform, and became embedded into it. A few bystanders tried to pull it out, but even when they pulled with all their strength the long sabre didn't move an inch.
"What kind of sabre is this? What strength you must need!"
Upon the grand stage, the God-Pleasing Martial Warrior shook his sword, and flicked his finger on the blade again. Another tinkling sound, and behind the golden mask came soft chuckling.
"You fought well, but you still lost," Xie Lian said, calmly but cheerfully.
The ghost had lost his weapon, and half-kneeled on the ground, still silent; but his fist gripped tighter. Xie Lian craftily spun his sword, and under the cheers from all around, was about to lunge his final strike, "slaying" the ghost, when just then, there was screaming from above!
Shocked, Xie Lian lowered his sword and looked up, and saw a blurry shadow falling rapidly from the city wall.
In that moment, he didn't have time to think, and in a flash, he tipped his feet and pushed off the ground, leaping into the air, darting upwards weightlessly.
He surged and flew, his sleeves fluttering open like the wings of a butterfly, then landed gracefully, light like a feather. Tightly in his hold was a person, and only when he touched solid ground did Xie Lian sigh a breath of relief and look down.
In his arms was a child, head wrapped full of bandages, dirty and unkempt, curled in his hold and watching him dazedly.
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Translator Notes:
¹Shangyuan Festival is also known as the Lantern Festival, marking the 15th and last day of the Lunar New Year. It's a day for worshipping and celebrating the celestial heavens. On a separate note, Zhongyuan celebrates the dead, and Xiayuan celebrates the waters. Yuan means the origins of the universe in Chinese Foundation Philosophy (Iching), and the Yuan festivals divided the lunar year into three: the Upper (Shang), the Middle (Zhong), and the Lower (Xia), each celebrating the divine forces that invigorate the world.
²Fortuitous Hour: the best time to perform certain actions, based on the daily fortune calendar that stipulates how lucky each hour is based on the date, month, year, and the stars