Chapter 53 Blasphemy 2. How can a living person truly be turned into a stone statue?

The story of Shen Mingxin becoming the sworn brother of Shen Xiangjun dates back twenty years.

At that time, Shen's mother was pregnant, and Shen's father went out to do business. His return was due early, but he did not return for a long time. Shen's mother was worried and could not eat or sleep. One day, she went to the ferry in the south of the city to pick up goods. On her way back to the city, the horse suddenly got frightened. Shen's mother was not prepared and was thrown from the carriage, falling to the side of the road. Blood gushed out from her body in an instant.

Logically speaking, this child was bound to die.

But at that moment, for some reason, when the servants who were accompanying her came to help her up in alarm, Chen's mother mustered up a bit of strength, pushed them aside, and reached out to grab a stone in the grass by the roadside.

The moment the stone touched her, the bleeding stopped immediately, and the mother's frantically writhing belly calmed down. After a short while, the mother recovered and actually stood up on her own. She calmed the horse, went back into the carriage, and called for someone to help her wash and change, as if nothing had happened.

Everyone was astonished.

When they returned home, Shen Zhuan and the others asked her what had happened. Shen's mother then said that when she fell by the roadside, she saw Ox-Head and Horse-Face, Black and White Impermanence. Knowing that she was going to die, along with her unborn child, she was in great grief when she suddenly saw a small lamp emerging from a white lotus. She didn't know how she suddenly had the strength to grab the lamp and the lotus.

And the one that possesses the lamp and the lotus is a stone by the roadside.

Or perhaps, it is a dilapidated statue so blurred that it is indistinguishable from stone.

“This is divine protection,” Shen Zhuan said. “You and the child in your womb are blessed. But the gods have shown their power and saved you this time, so we can’t just let it go like this. We still have to follow the customs of Xiling.”

What happened next was a natural progression.

They would inquire about the origins of the statues and the lineage of the deities, then seek out a sorcerer to hide the old statues in new stone, carve and repair them, invite the deities into the temple, and offer incense and worship.

A few months later, Shen Mingxin was born. His birth chart was analyzed and it was said that he was destined to die young. So the Shen family went into the mountains again to pray to the goddess Xiangjun and formed a godparent relationship with her.

"Mingxin, why are you spacing out again?"

Shen Zhuan's voice startled Shen Mingxin from her momentary reverie: "The auspicious time has arrived, come here!"

Shen Mingxin was stunned for a moment, not knowing how he had seen the god through the statue, and recalled the strange stories that Shen Zhuan often told him when he was young.

But there was no use in thinking too much. He composed himself, followed Shen Zhuan's invitation, picked up the wine pot, poured out two cups of fine wine, drank one himself, and offered the other to the shrine. Then he opened the food box and took out the main offering.

The main offering was wrapped in thick red paper. Shen Mingxin raised his hand and unfolded it, revealing a withered, blackened, and rotten placenta and a tuft of baby hair, both taken from him when he was just born.

He had seen these two items in the ancestral hall a few days ago, and seeing them again now still made him feel disgusted. But they were considered ordinary among the main offerings.

Shen Mingxin forced herself to ignore the discomfort in her heart and turned around to take three incense sticks from Shen Zhuan, who was standing to the side.

“Offering sacrifices to the gods is as if the gods are present,” Shen Zhuan said in a low voice.

Shen Mingxin responded softly, lit incense and candles, walked to the prayer mat, knelt down, raised his hands, and pressed his forehead against the floor tiles. Judging by his posture alone, he was truly devout.

"Brother, I, Shen Mingxin, bow in gratitude."

"The divine spirit rises from the Xiang River, bestowing blessings upon countless generations. Its mighty power is awe-inspiring. Those who receive its blessings will reach adulthood..."

The chill of the autumn night penetrated to the bone. Shen Mingxin held his breath slightly and squeezed out a dry and weak voice from his throat as he recited the lyrics he had prepared long ago.

The scent of sandalwood from Xilingheshui filled the air, calming and soothing the mind.

However, this does not seem to be the only smell in the temple.

Beneath the floating sandalwood incense, there was a strange, musty smell, as if seeping from some dark corners of the temple, tangled and mixed, subtly making one's throat ache.

Shen Mingxin frowned, trying his best to suppress his discomfort, and finished reciting the lyrics. Then he bowed three times before getting up and inserting incense into the incense burner.

Seeing that the incense was rising naturally and curling upwards without any unusual signs, Shen Zhuan and Shen Mingxin both breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed.

"Alright, I won't hold you back," Shen Zhuan said to Shen Mingxin. "If you're afraid, then go out first. I have something to ask about the cup, so don't bother me."

After worshipping the gods, he sent Shen Mingxin out and went to the temple gate with the servants.

After being inside for half a day, the statue did not show any strange behavior, but Shen Mingxin still felt uneasy. Upon hearing this, he felt relieved and quickly ran out, not wanting to stay in the hall for even a moment longer.

Shen Zhuan laughed and cursed, but said nothing. Instead, he washed his hands, lit incense, composed himself, and knelt down.

"Young Master."

When the two servants saw Shen Mingxin come out, they bowed and greeted him.

Shen Mingxin casually agreed and stood near the torch, glancing around absently. The temple was small and didn't even have a temple keeper. Apart from the Shen family, few people from Yu County came to offer sacrifices and worship. Shen Xiangjun was not a local deity of Yu County and didn't have much of a base of worshippers.

With a jumble of thoughts in his mind, Shen Mingxin waited for a while, but Shen Zhuan still didn't come out. He frowned, feeling strange, and carefully took two steps to look into the hall.

Whether it was my imagination or not, my grandfather's back seemed strangely stiff in front of the shrine, like a straight old tree trunk, his head bowed to the side as if he were looking at the Holy Grail on the ground.

The wrinkled face seemed to be trembling.

Shen Mingxin's heart tightened, and he was about to speak, but in the blink of an eye, the scene became blurry again, and it seemed as if one of the candles in the hall had suddenly gone out.

The next moment, before Shen Mingxin could go over, footsteps came from inside the hall, and Shen Zhuan came out.

"grandfather?"

Shen Mingxin called out.

"What's wrong?" Shen Zhuan glanced at him, his expression normal, nothing seemed strange, except that his eyes seemed a little more cloudy, but unfortunately they were too dark to see clearly. "Let's go, everything's done, let's go home."

He patted Shen Mingxin on the shoulder.

Shen Mingxin stared at Shen Zhuan for a while, but couldn't figure it out, so she had no choice but to step forward and follow him outside.

After walking a short distance, Shen Mingxin looked back for some reason.

The lights of the small temple went out, sinking into the deep, dark tide of the autumn night, eerie and oppressive.

For a fleeting moment, Shen Mingxin's eyes flickered, and it seemed as if the outline of the small temple blurred, melted away, and was covered with red and white shadows.

Looking up, those shadows were nothing but tangled, pupil-less maggots.

Unable to hold it in any longer, Shen Mingxin grabbed a nearby tree trunk and vomited.

"Enlightenment!"

Shen Zhuan cried out in surprise, and his servants rushed over in a few steps.

...

The noise near the small temple quickly faded into the distance.

The servants came carrying sacrificial offerings, but went back carrying the young master. Shen Mingxin fainted and was carried into a basket and hurriedly taken down the mountain.

After the group of people who came and went in a hurry disappeared, Wangqiu Mountain became completely quiet.

At midnight, rain began to fall in the dense forest, and the mountaintops became even more desolate. No living creatures were to be seen on the hillsides, which resembled a thousand-foot-high mound of graves, eerily desolate and sinister.

In the dark, deserted temple, water leaked from the roof tiles, splashing out the last embers of incense.

"despair."

An extremely subtle sound.

Inside the incense burner, the accumulated incense ash trembled almost imperceptibly, like dust stirred up by the wind.

However, there was no wind inside the hall.

"despair!"

Another sound.

This time it was much clearer, coming from the lacquered altar and the deep, dark shrine.

The next instant, a low sigh rang out.

As the shimmering light flickered, the statue of Shen Xiangjun trembled repeatedly, and the blurred face vaguely revealed the features of a man.

His jet-black eyebrows resembled the sharp edges of strange rocks in the mountains, and his deep, pool-like eyes were covered with a dark blue hue, like the patina of jade polished by the thousand-year-old murmuring of the Xiang River. His nose was high and straight, and his lips were grayish-white, reflecting the colors of the sky and the mountains. He was both extremely handsome and extremely cold.

As if drawn by the scent of incense, those dark blue eyes descended, their pupils shimmering but devoid of any vitality, only emptiness and void, lacking both divine compassion and demonic wickedness. If anyone were here and could peer into their gaze, they would surely find only a bone-chilling indifference and icy coldness.

And a non-human, deathly stillness, as dissipated as mist.

"Another twelve years..."

The statue slowly opened its lips, its tone dry and stiff, as if it had not uttered human words for a long time.

The statue—no, Chu Shenxiang—he still remembered his name, and he also remembered that this year marked his two hundredth year in this world.

Before coming into this world, Chu Shenxiang was just an ordinary working-class man in modern society. He was twenty-five years old, three years out of college, and worked at a game company as a game planner who was constantly being criticized and forced to do sit-ups every day. He had parents to support and a younger sister to raise. He had only two pursuits in life: for his family to be safe and healthy, and for himself to become rich overnight.

The former is relatively stable, but the latter is a pity. Instead of getting rich overnight, he died suddenly from overwork.

After his death, when he regained consciousness, he was inside a small stone statue, unable to move or speak, standing on the cliff by the Xiang River, accompanied by a dilapidated shrine not much larger than the Mao'er Temple, gazing at the river below and the ancient city at the foot of the mountain.

Through the footsteps on the mountain path not far away and the snippets of conversation they exchanged, Chu Shenxiang confirmed that she had traveled through time—to a dynasty that did not exist in history, Dafeng. The customs and clothing here were similar to those of the Tang and Song dynasties, but not entirely the same, possessing many of their own unique characteristics.

At first, Chu Shenxiang was quite excited. Although she was saddened by her own death and worried about her parents and younger sister's health, too much worry was not helpful. In any case, the present moment was the most important thing.

The time-travel trope, already a staple of online novels, has now landed on his head. Chu Shenxiang has no idea what the future holds, or whether he is truly the protagonist.

But since we've already put on the clothes, we can't just be cannon fodder, can we?

Although he was trapped inside the stone statue and couldn't even move his eyes, he still held onto hope, eagerly awaiting his own golden touch every day.

He had pondered more than once what his cheat code would be.

A system? Very common, most likely. Superpowers? Sounds unrelated to ancient society. Save file loading, daily check-ins, mind reading, or a red envelope group? Or perhaps a live stream from the sky, spoilers from another book? At the very least, it has to be something supernatural, right? Like, being a statue, it can absorb the essence of the sun and moon and cultivate into a god?

Relying on these wildly imaginative ideas, Chu Shenxiang stayed inside the stone statue, passing the days and weeks.

But what about his cheat code?

So much time has passed, why hasn't the money arrived yet?

As Chu Shenxiang gazed at the Xiang River flowing day and night, she gradually realized something, and her heart sank inch by inch.

Maybe--

Even if time travel occurs, reality isn't a novel; there are no main characters or supporting characters, no cheat codes? If he becomes a stone statue, then he truly is a stone statue, and nothing else changes?

But he is a living person.

How can a living person really be turned into a stone statue?

One or two days, one or two months, it's manageable, but over a long period of time, unable to move or communicate, how could he possibly endure it? He would definitely go crazy!

Chu Shenxiang woke up from her dream of time travel.

He was unwilling to accept this and began to look for a way to survive.

In the second month, he tried to gather all his mental strength to attack the stone statue, attempting to break free or seek help from passersby. After four months of effort, he made no progress; the stone statue remained completely unmoved, not even a speck of dust had fallen.

In the sixth month, the world was in chaos, and demons appeared frequently. He heard many strange things and began to focus on passing monks, Taoists, and sorcerers. He shouted loudly with his consciousness inside the stone statue, hoping that there were really extraordinary people among them who would discover his difference. Whether the other party was good or evil, it would be a chance to escape.

This continued for a year and a half, and no passersby responded.

Starting in the third year, Chu Shenxiang began to recall and recite all the scriptures and classics she knew in the past.

He studied day and night, gazing at the moon and observing the mountains, sketching rocks and painting fish, witnessing the myriad forms of life, and concentrating his mind and spirit, trying to develop his own method of cultivation. Three more years passed. In the sixth year, he gave up, accepting that he was indeed just a very simple, unremarkable, rotten stone.

Starting in the seventh year, he began to contemplate suicide.

But for a stone statue that can't even lift a finger or move its eyes, even death is something it can't accomplish on its own.

But it didn't matter. It seemed that God had finally seen his pitiful state and sent a flood in the tenth year, which washed away the cliff.

As she was swept away by the raging torrent, Chu Shenxiang had only one thought in her mind: liberation.

However, Chu Shenxiang underestimated the resilience of this stubborn rock.

It was battered by floods and swept away by mudslides, enduring countless bumps and falls. Although it is missing half of its body and its features are blurred, it is still there.

Chu Shenxiang finally understood that even death was a delusion.

Later, he stopped doing anything.

In the thirteenth year, an old woman recognized him and exclaimed that he was the Divine Xiangjun, or something else had appeared. She hurriedly pulled him from the dried-up riverbank, cleaned him, and brought him into her home, where she worshipped him every day. War was raging everywhere, and the old woman's family had no surplus food. On the offering table, there was only a bowl of water and a stick of incense she had made herself.

Within a few months, the clear water was gone, and all the wells around had dried up.

The old woman, wrapped in two black steamed buns mostly covered in sand, went up the mountain and dug a grave for herself, so as not to bring trouble to her children. Before leaving, she came to worship the gods again, praying to the goddess Xiangjun to protect her children.

Her children, unable to make ends meet, carried the stone statue on their backs and fled with the villagers.

In the fourteenth year, the stone statue fell to the cracked earth, next to two fresh corpses hunched over with their ribs protruding.

The gaunt vultures swarmed down, only to peck at the loose, dirty skin.

Before long, a pair of withered, branch-like hands reached out and laboriously lifted the small stone statue.

"It's Shen Xiangjun."

That person said.

For the next hundred years, Chu Shenxiang passed through the hands of different people.

Perhaps because of its incompleteness and poverty, or perhaps because the name of Shenxiangjun was limited to the vicinity of the Xiang River and not particularly illustrious, most of those who picked it up were ordinary people. They were either fleeing from disaster, struggling to survive, or holding broken swords and charging aimlessly with the army.

His stay in their hands was very short, the longest being no more than five years, because their lives were worth less than weeds in the ground, and in the midst of the chaos of war, they were destined not to live long.

In the 120th year, the way of gods flourished, and the Divine Illumination Kingdom was established in Yandu. All the famous and renowned ghosts and gods in the world suddenly became highly sought after.

Chu Shenxiang was also enshrined there, moving from the crippled offering table to the magnificent shrine.

The stone statue was repaired and looked brand new. It was bustling with incense smoke day and night, and dignitaries and nobles kowtowed to it.

In the 180th year, the five kingdoms were initially settled, and the chaotic world was somewhat at peace. The whole country was in need of rebuilding.

At that time, Chu Shenxiang had already arrived in Beizhu, in the hands of countless nobles who worshipped him. One stormy night, a noble was devoured by a demon, his blood and flesh splattering onto the stone statue, emitting a foul stench. The noble's family was furious, discarded the stone statue, and invited a new god into their household.

That same year, Chen's mother fell by the roadside and grabbed onto a stubborn rock.

Two hundred years have passed since then.

Chu Shenxiang had no idea how she had lived for the past two hundred years.

Without seeing any divine miracles, without cultivation, unable to move or communicate, and even unable to die, how could I not go insane living like this?

Or perhaps he had already gone mad, drifting in and out of consciousness, and then woke up, but he forgot. After all, so much time had passed, and he had forgotten far too many things.

In the beginning, even when he didn't want to live anymore and was in utter despair, he would still grieve for the old woman's death, be shocked by the plight and cruelty of the refugees, and tremble at the miserable and depraved world. He wanted to smash the stone statue, wanted to roar, wanted to shout, wanted to truly appear as they said, and change everything.

But the truth is, he can't do anything.

He was not the god they spoke of, but just a stone.

Later, year after year, as he saw more and felt more powerless, he eventually accepted it.

The course of Heaven is constant; it does not exist for Yao, nor does it perish for Jie.

Chu Shenxiang's heart grew calmer and calmer.

No, he has no heart. He is a stone. How can a stone have a heart?

He gazed indifferently at everything in the world through the eyes of the stone statue, not focusing on anyone, not lingering for anyone, as if all things and events were merely fleeting passersby, nothing more than floating dust. He no longer possessed the breath of life, but was merely a will, an ancient bystander indifferent to everything.

He knew he seemed to have lost the most precious thing about mortals: humanity, but he didn't care.

And yet, one night twelve years ago, he suddenly and inexplicably possessed the divine power he had longed for but could not obtain.

Strange phenomena occurred from the sky: the incense offerings he had tried so hard to attract suddenly gathered into dragons and snakes, actively approaching him and entering the stone statue.

In the darkness, he sensed the change within himself—he had become a god.

Aside from two hundred years of incense offerings, he did nothing else. How can he become a god?

Chu Shenxiang found it all laughable.

Having become a god, he was finally able to leave the stone statue, step out of the shrine, communicate with people, and do many things he wanted to do but could not do before.

If this change had happened before, it would have been enough to make Chu Shenxiang ecstatic, running out and roaring wildly across the mountains and forests.

But Shenxiangjun, who had been adrift in this chaotic world for over 180 years, merely curled his lips into a mocking smile before closing his eyes and falling asleep, paying no heed to the question. He didn't even attempt to leave the stone statue, as if he had completely forgotten that it was something he had once yearned for so desperately.

Tonight, Chu Shenxiang naturally didn't care about the Shen family grandfather and grandson who came to worship.

However, the arrival of this grandfather and grandson seemed to have attracted something else.

Chu Shenxiang was startled awake. He glanced inward and discovered that what had been drawn out was the humanity he had lost for over a hundred years.

This unexpected event stirred up a rare ripple in Chu Shenxiang's heart.

He examined his own humanity, letting it revert to its former state, yet he could not reconcile with it. Indeed, what is broken, even if repaired, can never be the same again.

Chu Shenxiang's eyes were filled with mockery.

Humanity remained unresponsive; only in his spiritual sea did he maintain a familiar yet unfamiliar face, displaying the myriad ugliness of mortals, with joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness all on his own.

Chu Shenxiang watched for a while like a spectator, then found it boring. Just as she was about to sink into the depths of the statue and fall asleep again, her consciousness suddenly paused and swept towards the foot of the mountain.

Just past midnight, a chaotic time when demons and monsters roam freely, so terrifying that some people still dared to leave the city and venture into the mountains.