Fact and Fate

When he returned to the celestial palace that evening, he greeted his fathers with deep bows, his heart light with the progress of the day. But as he entered his chambers, he was surprised to find his twin sister, Ao Qing, rummaging through his belongings.

He sighed, more exasperated than truly angry. "Qing, what are you doing?"

She looked up, her red eyes sparkling with mischief. "Looking for that artifact Fathers gave you. The mirror. I want to see it."

Ao Huli shook his head, moving to tidy the mess she'd made. "I haven't used it yet," he explained patiently. "Master Yan Wang and Master Meng Po will show me how to wield it properly when the time is right."

Ao Qing shrugged, flopping down on his bed. "Well, my artifact is boring," she complained, twirling a strand of white hair around her finger. "It's just a flute. All I do is play it to summon winds in the mortal realm. I've tried to find other uses for it, but no luck."

Ao Huli gave her a long-suffering look. "Qing, wind is essential in the mortal realm," he said, his tone slipping into the cadence of a patient lecture. "Without it, temperatures would fluctuate wildly, and the Rain Master would be unable to perform his duties. Your role is crucial, even if it seems simple."

She rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed by his explanation. "Yeah, yeah. But seriously, where's your mirror? I just want to see it."

Ao Huli's patience finally ran out. He grabbed his sister by the arm, hauling her up and towards the door. "Out," he said firmly, ignoring her protests. "I've had a long day, and I don't need you messing up my room."

He managed to push her out, closing the door firmly behind her. For a few minutes, he could hear her scratching at the wood, whining for him to let her back in. But eventually, she gave up and wandered off, likely in search of more entertaining mischief.

Ao Huli leaned against the door, shaking his head with a mix of fondness and exasperation. 

Moving to his bed, he pulled the mirror from its hiding place under his bed mat. He stared into its depths, his magenta eyes narrowed in concentration. Just as he had tried once before, he began channeling his spiritual energy into the artifact, the soft blue glow of his power enveloping his form. But just as before, only his own reflection stared back at him.

With a sigh of frustration, he set the mirror aside. It was clear that spiritual energy alone was not the key to unlocking its secrets. He would have to wait for his mentors' guidance in its use.

Pushing himself off the bed, Ao Huli dropped to the floor and began a series of push-ups, his body moving with the smooth, controlled power of a trained warrior. As he exercised, his mind raced with thoughts of the coming day and the challenges it might bring.

The next morning, Ao Huli arrived at the soul sanctuary. He began his usual tasks, the routine now familiar and comforting.

As Yan Wang and Meng Po took their places by the river, Ao Huli waited for their instruction. After a few moments, Yan Wang's voice cut through the peaceful sounds of the flowing water.

"Ao Huli," he said, his tone serious but not unkind. "Come sit with us."

The prince immediately obeyed, kneeling between the two deities with his hands folded neatly in his lap. He watched as they resumed their work, the lotus flowers drifting by with their precious cargo of souls.

Suddenly, Meng Po turned to him, her ancient eyes filled with curiosity. "Ao Huli," she asked, her melodic voice gentle, "can you sense the life force within each lotus?"

Ao Huli hesitated for a moment, then bowed his head. "I cannot, Master Meng Po," he admitted, his voice humble.

Meng Po's brow furrowed slightly. "That's strange," she mused. "Given the time you've spent in their presence, you should be more attuned to their essence."

Yan Wang leaned forward, his sharp gaze fixed on the prince. "If that's the case," he said, "can you see what lies within the flowers?"

Ao Huli turned his attention to a passing lotus, leaning closer to study the glowing orb nestled in its petals. He stared intently, his magenta eyes narrowed in concentration. But after a long moment, he leaned back, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, Masters," he said, his voice heavy with disappointment. "I cannot see inside."

Yan Wang and Meng Po exchanged a meaningful look, a silent communication passing between them.

"Ao Huli," Meng Po said, her tone kind but probing, "have you been using the mirror we sent to your parents? The one meant to aid you in your duties here?"

The prince nodded, his red-tipped ears drooping slightly. "I have, Master Meng Po," he confirmed. "But I must admit, I've been waiting for instruction on its proper use."

Meng Po's eyes widened slightly. "And what have you tried so far to activate it?"

Ao Huli's shoulders slumped a fraction. "Only my spiritual energy, Master."

Behind him, Yan Wang let out a bark of laughter, the sound startling in the serene space. "Bring the mirror tomorrow, boy," he said, his voice gruff but not unkind. "We'll show you how to use it properly."

Ao Huli bowed deeply, gratitude and relief washing over him. "Thank you, Masters," he said, his voice sincere. "I am eager to learn."

Later that night, as Ao Huli stepped into the celestial palace, he was immediately ambushed by two of his younger siblings. Ao Li, a precocious 4-year-old with her white hair in pigtails, came running up to him, her red eyes brimming with tears.

"Big brother!" she cried, pointing an accusatory finger at Ao Ping, her 5-year-old brother. "Ao Ping ripped my dolly!"

Ao Ping, his arms crossed defiantly over his chest, scoffed. "It was an accident," he declared, his cat ears twitching with annoyance. "She wouldn't get out of the way when I was playing with my tops."

Ao Huli knelt down to their level, his magenta eyes studying both siblings carefully. He turned to Ao Ping, his voice gentle but firm. "Ao Ping, was it really an accident?"

The little boy nodded, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout. "Yes, big brother."

Ao Huli placed a hand on Ao Ping's shoulder. "Even if it was an accident," he explained patiently, "that doesn't mean it didn't hurt Ao Li's feelings. An incident, whether meant or not, causes the same amount of damage."

Ao Ping's defensive posture slowly melted away. He uncrossed his arms, his gaze dropping to the floor as he processed his brother's words. After a moment, he turned to Ao Li, his voice small and sheepish. "I'm sorry, Ao Li."

But Ao Li wasn't ready to forgive. She huffed, stomping her small foot. "Sorry doesn't fix my doll!" she proclaimed, tears still streaming down her face.

Ao Huli turned to his sister, his voice soothing. "Ao Li, it takes courage to admit one's mistakes. Ao Ping can't undo the damage, so sometimes an apology is all we can offer. It's important to understand that an apology, even if it doesn't physically fix things, can help bridge the gap between misunderstandings."

Ao Li's face scrunched up, ready to argue, but Ao Ping stepped forward. "I'll fix your doll," he declared, his voice filled with determination.

Ao Li blinked, confusion replacing her anger. "But... you don't know how. What if you make it worse?"

Ao Huli reached out, gently taking the damaged doll from Ao Li's hands. "I'll help him," he assured her. "We'll fix it together."

Leading Ao Ping to his room, Ao Huli pulled out a box of needles and thread. He sat across from his brother, patiently demonstrating on a scrap of cloth how to make a simple stitch.

For the next hour, the two brothers worked diligently, Ao Huli guiding Ao Ping's small hands as they carefully repaired the torn seams. Ao Ping's tongue poked out in concentration, his brow furrowed as he focused on making each stitch as neat as possible.

Finally, the doll was restored. Ao Huli called Ao Li to the room, and when she arrived at the door, Ao Ping proudly held up the mended toy.

But as Ao Li reached for her doll, her eyes widened. Ao Ping's hands, she noticed, were covered in bandages - evidence of the many times he had accidentally pricked himself with the needle during the repair process.

Tears welled up in Ao Li's eyes once more, but this time, they were tears of remorse and gratitude. She launched herself at Ao Ping, wrapping her small arms around him in a tight hug.

"I'm sorry, Ao Ping," she sobbed into his shoulder. "Thank you for fixing my dolly."

Ao Ping, though surprised by the sudden embrace, hugged his sister back. Over her shoulder, he caught Ao Huli's eye, a small, proud smile on his face.

Ao Huli, his heart warmed by the sight of his siblings' reconciliation, quietly slipped back into the room, leaving them to their moment of bonding. As he closed the door to his own chambers, he couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction.

The next morning, the celestial realm was just beginning to stir as Ao Huli made his way to the training grounds. The first rays of dawn had yet to break over the horizon, but Wuxian was already waiting for him, his posture relaxed but alert.

"Take your stance," Wuxian instructed, his voice cutting through the early morning stillness.

Ao Huli obeyed, settling into a ready position. The two began to spar, their movements fluid and precise. Wuxian's attacks were swift and relentless, but Ao Huli met each one with focused determination, his red-tipped ears twitching as he anticipated his master's moves.

They danced across the training ground, the clashing of their weapons ringing out in the crisp air. It was a familiar routine, one that Ao Huli had practiced countless times, but each session brought new challenges, new opportunities to refine his skills.

Finally, as the sun began to peek over the distant mountains, Wuxian called a halt. Ao Huli, his chest heaving with exertion, wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm.

"That's enough for today," Wuxian said, his approval evident in his tone. "Go and find your grandfather Bing in the inner garden."

Ao Huli bowed deeply, his respect for his master shining in his magenta eyes. "Thank you, Master Wuxian."

He found Ao Bing exactly where Wuxian had said, seated cross-legged in the serene beauty of the inner garden. The Dragon King's eyes were closed, his face a picture of tranquility as he meditated.

Ao Huli approached quietly, not wanting to disturb his grandfather's concentration. But as he drew near, Ao Bing's eyes opened, a warm smile gracing his features.

"Ao Huli," he greeted, motioning for his grandson to sit. "Join me."

Ao Huli settled across from Ao Bing, folding his legs and resting his hands on his knees. Together, they sank into meditation, their breathing slowing as they focused inward, cultivating their spiritual energy.

The peaceful silence was shattered by a familiar voice. "Grandfather Bing! Brother Huli!"

Ao Qing sauntered into the garden, her white hair still mussed from sleep. She yawned widely, stretching her arms above her head before plopping down beside them.

"I'm here for cultivation," she announced, as if her presence was a delightful surprise.

Ao Bing's brow furrowed, a slight frown tugging at his lips. "You're late, Ao Qing."

Ao Huli opened one eye, glancing at his sister. "Grandfather Bing and I were just finishing up."

Ao Qing's face brightened. "Oh, well, no worries then!" She made to stand, ready to make her escape.

But Ao Bing's voice stopped her. "Not so fast, young lady. You will stay here and cultivate on your own."

Ao Qing's jaw dropped, a whine already building in her throat. "But Grandfather-"

Ao Bing raised a hand, silencing her protest. "No buts. You need to catch up to your brother's foundation building stage. Sit."

Grumbling under her breath, Ao Qing folded her arms and dropped back down, her tail lashing with irritation.

Ao Huli rose to his feet, bowing respectfully to Ao Bing. His grandfather returned the gesture, dismissing him for the day.

As Ao Huli made his way back to his chambers, he couldn't help but shake his head. His sister's antics, while occasionally frustrating, were also a source of amusement. He knew she had the potential to be a great cultivator, if only she could find the discipline.

But for now, Ao Huli had his own duties to attend to. In his room, he quickly changed into fresh robes and retrieved the mirror, tucking it carefully into his sleeve.

Ao Huli entered the soul sanctuary, the click of the large door closing causing Meng Po to look up from her position. 

eng Po greeted him with a serene smile, but he immediately noticed the absence of Yan Wang. His eyes darted to the spot where the stern deity usually sat, a question forming on his lips.

Meng Po, sensing his curiosity, spoke before he could ask. "Yan Wang will join us shortly," she assured him, gesturing for him to sit beside her.

Ao Huli knelt gracefully, settling the mirror in his lap. "I brought the artifact, as requested," he said, carefully pulling aside the silk wrapping to reveal the gleaming surface.

Meng Po nodded approvingly. "And what have you tried so far, to activate it?"

"Only infusing it with spiritual energy," Ao Huli admitted, a hint of frustration in his voice. "But it doesn't seem to respond."

Meng Po's eyes sparkled with gentle amusement. "And were you attempting to infuse it, or take from it?"

Ao Huli's brow furrowed in confusion. "I... I assumed it needed to be infused. Most magical artifacts require spiritual energy to function, don't they? They don't usually have their own."

Meng Po shook her head, her silver-streaked hair swaying with the motion. "Ah, but this mirror is different. It is a portal to the lives of others. You see, young prince, the mirror is a tool, just like any other. And a tool is meant to be used, not given to."

Ao Huli nodded slowly, processing this new perspective. "I think I understand," he said, though a hint of uncertainty lingered in his tone.

Just as he was about to attempt activating the mirror once more, the doors to the sanctuary burst open. Yan Wang stormed in, his face thunderous with anger.

"That woman!" he fumed, his robes swirling around him as he stomped to his usual spot. "Always meddling, always interfering!"

Ao Huli and Meng Po exchanged a startled glance before turning to face the irate deity.

Meng Po's expression shifted to one of exasperated understanding. "Did the two of you get into it again?" she asked, her melodic voice tinged with resignation.

Yan Wang didn't answer immediately, instead dropping heavily into his seat with a string of muttered curses.

Ao Huli, feeling awkward in the face of such raw emotion, hesitantly cleared his throat. "Pardon me," he ventured, his voice carefully respectful, "but who are you referring to?"

Meng Po opened her mouth to respond, but Yan Wang cut her off.

"Yang'asha," he spat, the name dripping with disdain. "Always sticking her nose into things that don't concern her."

Ao Huli's confusion only deepened. "Yang'asha?"

Meng Po sighed, shooting Yan Wang a pointed look before explaining. "Yang'asha is the goddess of beauty."

Yan Wang scoffed, his lip curling into a sneer. "More like the goddess of being a pain in my ass."

"You two aren't married anymore," Meng Po reminded him, her tone firm but not unkind. "Perhaps it's time to let these old arguments go."

"I'll stop when she stops," Yan Wang grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child.

Meng Po shook her head, clearly deciding to move past Yan Wang's marital grievances. Instead, she turned her attention back to Ao Huli and the mirror in his lap.

"As I was saying, before we were interrupted," she said, her voice calm and focused once more, "I was just about to show Ao Huli how to properly use the mirror."

Yan Wang, despite his lingering irritation, leaned forward slightly, his interest piqued. "Well then? Get on with it, boy."

Ao Huli, too, found himself sitting up straighter, his earlier confusion and awkwardness forgotten in the face of this new lesson.

Taking a deep breath to center himself, Ao Huli reversed his approach. Instead of pushing his spiritual energy into the artifact, he opened himself to receive its power. The effect was immediate - the mirror's surface began to glow with an ethereal light.

Suddenly, he found himself looking through someone else's eyes. He was in what appeared to be a modest kitchen, hands moving in front of him as they stirred something in a large pot. The smell of cooking herbs seemed to fill his senses, though he knew he wasn't physically there.

"What do you see?" Meng Po's melodious voice seemed distant, as if coming from very far away.

"A kitchen," Ao Huli replied, his voice slightly dazed. "Someone is cooking... I'm seeing through their eyes." He turned to look at his mentors, surprised to find them watching him with curious expressions. "Can you not see it as well?"

Meng Po shook her head, her silver-streaked hair catching the sanctuary's ethereal light. "No, child. The mirror's vision is yours alone. You are the one drawing in its energy, so you are the only one who can perceive what it shows."

Ao Huli nodded slowly, processing this information as he lowered the mirror. The connection broke, the kitchen scene vanishing like morning mist.

"Well?" Yan Wang demanded gruffly. "How was it?"

Ao Huli's brow furrowed thoughtfully. "I don't understand," he said finally, his voice carrying its characteristic careful consideration. "How can glimpses of daily life help determine which souls are worthy of rebirth? These brief moments seem insufficient for true judgment. One would need to observe constantly to form an accurate assessment of character."

Yan Wang's eyebrows shot up, surprise and something like approval crossing his sharp features. He let out a short bark of laughter. "Ha! You misunderstand the mirror's purpose, boy. It's not meant for individual judgment."

"The mirror serves a different function," Meng Po interjected gently. "It provides insight into human society as a whole. You see, as mortals advance and change, so too do their moral frameworks."

"What might have been considered virtuous behavior a century ago could be viewed as reprehensible today," she continued, her ancient eyes filled with wisdom. "For us to judge souls fairly, we must understand the context of the era they lived in."

"Exactly," Yan Wang nodded vigorously. "We can't apply the standards of the past to the present, or judge the past by present values. The mirror helps us maintain perspective, keeps us connected to the ever-changing mortal world."

Ao Huli's red-tipped ears twitched as he absorbed this explanation, his magenta eyes lighting with understanding. 

Ao Huli raised the mirror once more, drawing its energy into himself. This time, he found himself seeing through the eyes of someone pacing anxiously in what appeared to be a hospital corridor, their hands wringing together in nervous tension. A door to the left suddenly opened, and a doctor in a white coat emerged, his face breaking into a reassuring smile as he announced the surgery's success.

The prince shifted his focus, and the scene changed. Now he watched through the eyes of an artist, their hands steady as they held a brush before an unfinished canvas, contemplating their next stroke.

He began to shift again, but Meng Po's gentle touch interrupted his exploration, pushing the mirror down. "Careful," she warned, her melodic voice carrying genuine concern. "The mirror's allure can be... intoxicating. It's easy to lose yourself in these glimpses of mortal life."

Her ancient eyes held his magenta gaze. "Remember, as gods, we must maintain our neutrality. We cannot allow ourselves to become emotionally invested in individual mortals. Our duty requires detachment."

Ao Huli nodded, carefully setting the mirror aside. His composure remained perfect, but there was a slight droop to his red-tipped ears that betrayed how the brief glimpses had affected him.

"Now," Meng Po asked, "can you sense the life essence within the lotus flowers?"

Ao Huli turned his attention to the drifting blooms, studying them intently before shaking his head. "No, Master Meng Po. I still cannot."

Meng Po nodded slowly, then turned to Yan Wang with an expectant look.

"What about the contents of the flowers?" Yan Wang asked gruffly. "Can you see what lies within?"

Once again, Ao Huli focused on the glowing orbs nestled in the lotus petals. This time, something changed. As he watched one drift past, he caught a fleeting impression - an entire life compressed into a single moment of understanding, a complete narrative contained within a spark of light.

He jerked back slightly, shaking his head to clear it. The sensation had been overwhelming, like trying to drink from a waterfall.

Yan Wang's laugh boomed through the sanctuary as he slapped Ao Huli's back heartily. "Ha! See that, Meng Po?" he crowed, turning to his fellow deity with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "The boy's a natural judge, not an executioner like you!"

Ao Huli's brow furrowed, confusion covering his normally stoic features. Seeing this, Meng Po spoke up. 

Your natural constitution," Meng Po explained gently, seeing Ao Huli's confusion, "aligns more closely with judgment than with ending existences. Your spiritual essence is better suited to Yan Wang's duties than my own."

"Ha!" Yan Wang exclaimed triumphantly, his voice echoing through the sanctuary. "That means you're more like me, boy!"

Ao Huli's perfect posture went rigid, his red-tipped ears flattening slightly against his head. "Surely..." he said carefully, his voice measured despite his obvious distress, "there must be some mistake?"

His magenta eyes darted between his two mentors - from Yan Wang's loud, abrasive demeanor to Meng Po's serene wisdom. The thought that his spiritual nature aligned more with the boisterous god than the composed goddess seemed almost impossible to accept.

"Well, looks like you'll be my apprentice then!" Yan Wang declared, clearly delighting in Ao Huli's discomfort.

Meng Po simply shrugged, a small smile playing at her lips. "Don't worry about me. I still have fourteen more of your siblings who haven't received their divine assignments yet."

"But..." Ao Huli tried again, his usual composure slipping slightly, "are you certain there hasn't been an error?"

Meng Po's melodic laugh filled the sanctuary. "Don't take it so personally, child. Fate works in mysterious ways."

"Fate?" Ao Huli blinked, his brow furrowing. "Do you mean to say that even gods are bound by fate?"

"Indeed," Meng Po nodded, her silver-streaked hair catching the ethereal light. "Only Yue Lao has any real power over fate."

"Yue Lao?" Ao Huli asked, his magenta eyes showing genuine curiosity. Despite his extensive education in celestial matters, this name was unfamiliar.

Meng Po smiled indulgently. "Ah yes, you wouldn't know of him. Yue Lao is one of the more... reclusive deities. The Old Man Under the Moon, as mortals sometimes call him. He's the god of marriage and love."

"Got that wrong with Yang'asha and me," Yan Wang muttered darkly, crossing his arms.

Meng Po rolled her eyes heavenward. "Enough about your failed marriage," she said firmly. "I've heard quite enough about that for one day."

She turned back to Ao Huli, who still looked somewhat shell-shocked by the revelation that he would be apprenticed to Yan Wang. "He sits beneath a great lunar tree in his palace, reading his book of marriages. Every soul that will ever exist is recorded there, along with the name of who they are destined to marry. When two people are meant to be together, he ties their ankles with an invisible red thread - the red thread of fate."

"And what of those who never marry?" Ao Huli asked, his analytical mind already seeking to understand the system.

"Their names are written too," Meng Po explained. "Some threads lead to no one, and that's as much a part of fate as those that connect."

"He's impossible to find unless he wants to be found," Yan Wang added gruffly. "Believes he's above getting involved in day-to-day celestial politics. Too busy playing matchmaker to attend any formal functions."

"Unlike some people," Meng Po said pointedly, "Yue Lao understands the importance of maintaining distance from the subjects of his domain. He doesn't meddle or interfere with the connections he oversees."

"No, he just makes terrible matches and then refuses to fix them," Yan Wang grumbled.

"As I said," Meng Po sighed, "that will be all for today, Prince Ao Huli. I believe we've heard quite enough about certain people's marital grievances."

Ao Huli bowed deeply, his mind already turning over this new information about the mysterious god who held such power over mortal destinies. As he left the sanctuary, he couldn't help but wonder what his own red thread might lead to, and if Yue Lao had already written his future in that ancient book of marriages.