Chapter 14 Divine Descent "Go, the sorcerers are waiting for you."...
Qingdai quickly brought over the food, and the aroma of the food aroused Xiao Jiang's hunger, which burned like fire and became uncontrollable.
Seeing Xiao Jiang wolfing down his food, Qingdai couldn't help but advise, "Slow down."
"If you eat too quickly after not eating for so long, you'll throw up."
Xiao Jiang did slow down, although she was still in a hurry, but it was clear that she was trying to control herself.
They're quite obedient.
Qingdai cleared her throat, remembering the things her father had told her before.
“Jiang Yuhuo, while the priest is away, you can stay with me in the temple. The shamans in the temple will take good care of you.”
Xiao Jiang paused in his eating, looked up, and saw that Qing Dai's expression didn't seem like a joke.
"After you finish eating and rest for a while, you can come with me to your house to pack your things. Let's move over today. You don't need to bring much, just a few changes of clothes. The temple has everything you need." Qingdai glanced at the person opposite her, whose clothes didn't look like a girl's at all. She suspected that Xiao Jiang didn't have any clothes that caught her eye. The priest was really something, she didn't know how to raise a girl.
"Never mind, you don't need to bring your clothes. You can borrow mine."
Qingdai recalled Xiao Jiang's height. Although Xiao Jiang was a few years younger than her, their heights were about the same, so her clothes should fit her perfectly.
But the person opposite put down their chopsticks and hurriedly waved their hand, refusing before even swallowing the food in their mouth, saying, "But no need, I'll stay at home."
Qingdai was somewhat displeased, her delicate brows furrowing slightly. "How can this be? You don't even have anything to eat at home."
"Really, you don't need to."
"No, my father promised the priest he would take care of you when he's not around."
...
No matter what Qingdai said, Xiaojiang was as stubborn as a mule and refused to agree no matter what. After enduring her annoyance and trying to persuade him several times with kind words, Qingdai also got angry.
Damn it, I was just imagining that she was being obedient.
"Jiang Yuhuo, you're so ungrateful! The High Priest is missing, and everyone is worried about him. You're his only bloodline, and it's the clan's responsibility to take care of you. Wouldn't it be better to stay in the temple and live with everyone, looking out for each other? The temple is the High Priest's second home; no one here will mistreat you. You insist on staying here and refuse to move. Do you expect everyone to come to your house to take care of you? You can't be so selfish!"
Xiao Jiang was stunned by this barrage of harsh words. She began to understand why Wu Hu, with his impulsive and restless nature, was afraid of Qing Dai. But she still had Xiao Hai at home, and she couldn't possibly move into the temple.
Qingdai had many valid points, and they all seemed quite reasonable. Unable to argue with her, Xiao Jiang looked towards the door behind Qingdai.
This was a small side room; if she stood up and started running, Qingdai probably wouldn't be able to catch her.
I was so hungry that I ate too much, and now my stomach feels bloated.
Qingdai looked behind her suspiciously. Behind her was an open door, empty and deserted. No one had come.
"What are you thinking? Are you trying to run away?" Qingdai saw through Xiaojiang's intentions at a glance. It wasn't that she was particularly good at observing, but rather that Xiaojiang's desire to escape was too obvious.
She's clearly a fool whose thoughts are written all over her face, yet she possesses a cold and beautiful appearance. Qingdai thought to herself, if she insists on leaving, does she think she can hold her back?
When Qingdai exposed him, Xiao Jiang, like a thief caught stealing by the owner, immediately sat up straight and behaved himself.
"But I... I really can't live here." Xiao Jiang's voice was weak, but she was absolutely firm on this point.
Qingdai understood that persuasion was futile, and scolding was useless. What a stubborn mule!
“Okay.” Qingdai gave up as well, then changed the subject, “But you can’t leave the temple looking like this. If the villagers see you like this, they might think you’ve been abused at the temple.”
The little witch's gaze swept over Xiao Jiang from head to toe—she was still wearing the clothes she wore on the day she dug the mine, her clothes torn in several places by the gravel, and covered with a large patch of mud and water stains that had dried and hardened.
Seeing her like this, Qingdai felt a little soft-hearted. She had heard from the people who had returned about what happened to Xiao Jiang in the mine that day. This person, who was even younger than her, had worked with those strong men for an entire day to dig stones in order to find his father, until the mine was completely cleared and it was confirmed that there was no priest's body before he collapsed.
Qingdai's voice softened as she handed Xiao Jiang the vanilla ointment she usually carried at her waist. "Wash yourself thoroughly. The shamans are performing a ritual. Go to the temple to pray for the high priest before you go back."
The temple was not large and its furnishings were simple. The washroom was located not far from this small side room.
After washing herself, Xiao Jiang changed into her old blue-black clothes. A plain white dress was a common choice for the shamans serving at the temple; it possessed a clean and serene beauty.
Her father dressed like that too.
Among the pile of dirty clothes that had been taken off, there was a piece of white fabric, only it was dirty with mud and water and crumpled.
Xiao Jiang stared at the hem of his clothes for a long time.
He wasn't in the mine, yet he went there. Father, where did you go?
Several knocks sounded at the door, neither too loud nor too soft, but urgent.
"Jiang Yuhuo, are you done yet?" Qingdai urged impatiently from outside the door.
Just as she was about to knock a second time, the door opened, and a slender young woman emerged. She had long white hair and wore a white dress. When Qingdai met her golden eyes, her breath hitched, as if afraid to disturb a creature that had inadvertently fallen to the mortal realm.
This inexplicable sense of sacredness.
Could this be the bloodline of a priest? A natural aura and demeanor resembling those of a deity.
Qingdai had to admit that she was indeed very beautiful. At least in that respect, she was indeed the priest's child, and she had inherited the priest's beauty, even surpassing it.
"The clothes I don't want actually fit you quite well." As soon as the words left her mouth, Qingdai realized the sourness in them.
Xiao Jiang didn't react much. He looked down at his clothes, nodded, and said, "Thank you."
Qingdai was somewhat speechless; the person opposite her truly couldn't distinguish between kind and unkind words. Qingdai's gaze fell on Xiaojiang's hands, watching her carefully fold and put away a dirty, disheveled piece of white cloth. Qingdai knew it was the hem of the priest's robe.
Well, when people gain something, they lose something else in another. She still believes that God is fair. No one can choose their appearance, so why make herself unhappy by comparing herself to her?
"Don't worry, the High Priest will be alright. He'll probably be back in a few days." Qingdai was both comforting her and reassured that the High Priest would be safe. The sky above the village hadn't shown any unusual fluctuations in recent days, indicating that no one in the village had suffered any abnormal harm. Only natural disasters existed, which were outside the protection zone, but since the High Priest wasn't in the mine, he must still be safe and sound.
But she couldn't tell Xiao Jiang any of this. The Celestial Dome was a secret passed down through generations of priests, and as the groomed successor, she only knew of its existence. Upon closer examination, it was likely that no one could truly explain the origins of the Celestial Dome.
Xiao Jiang was unaware of the details and assumed that Qingdai was just trying to comfort her.
Qingdai didn't say much, so she urged her to go to the temple, "Let's go, don't keep the shamans waiting."
Xiao Jiang wasn't familiar with the layout of the temple, so he obediently followed behind Qing Dai.
Before even reaching the temple entrance, Xiao Jiang smelled the extremely familiar scent of mugwort, a scent that Jiang Liuyun often carried home with him.
The temple was filled with smoke, and the ancient wooden statues of gods were blurred in the smoke.
The chanting mingled with the ringing of copper bells, echoing neatly throughout the spacious hall. Wisps of smoke curled up from the furnace and rose towards the ceiling. On ordinary days, the high priest, dressed in white and wearing a shamanic mask, would dance like smoke, attempting to connect mortals and gods through the trajectory of the slowly rising smoke.
After the connection between heaven and earth was severed, humans and gods were separated. People could only offer sacrifices to the gods and hold sacrificial ceremonies to summon their guidance. While the Central Plains had already entered the era of Confucianism, only this remote and backward village preserved this ancient ritual through generations.
Now, however, there is no high priest to preside over the ceremony, nor is there a path to bring down the gods. This is just a ritual to appease the souls of the villagers who perished in the mining accident.
When Xiao Jiang arrived, the ritual was nearing its end. A dozen or so straw dolls were thrown into the fire together, and the flames leaped high. Several shamans chanted something around the stove, watching the straw figures slowly turn to ashes. The smoke and firelight mingled, blurring the faces of the shamans.
Xiao Jiang looked up and saw a huge wooden statue of a god on the high platform. The statue was tall and majestic, looking down on all living beings. Its face was hidden in the shadows, making it difficult to see clearly. Only its hands, crossed in front of its chest, and its huge wings on its back could be seen.
This was not the first time Xiao Jiang had seen the statues of deities in Liyue Village.
The divine bird, a mythical creature, was born in the Li and Yue regions, where it multiplied and prospered forever.
This is a creation legend known to everyone in Liyue Village. The Feather God created Liyue Village, and the Liyue people are blessed by the God and are all His children.
The ritual was over. Instead of extinguishing the fire, the shamans lit another bundle of mugwort.
Seeing that Xiao Jiang was standing outside the hall without making a move for a long time, Qingdai gently nudged him from behind.
"Go, the sorcerers are waiting for you."
The shamans were also looking at the people outside the temple. Two girls dressed in the same white clothes, one with black hair and the other with white hair, stood one in front of the other, as if they had stepped out of a mural. They were the people of God.
When the white-haired girl reached the statue, she knelt and kowtowed deeply. The shamans began to chant with their eyes closed, and the words left by the Feathered God in the ancient scrolls were sung in a melodious and solemn tune to pray for the gods' blessings.
Xiao Jiang lay prostrate on the ground, silently repeating in his mind.
—By the Feather God above, please bless my father, your most loyal servant, with peace.
Whether it was the heat from the bath or the intense fire in the stove, Xiao Jiang felt waves of heat surging through his body, even stronger than before, especially on his back, where the skin felt like it was about to crack.
It hurt so much. Xiao Jiang gritted her teeth and could only continue kneeling on the ground, seeking some coolness, but the bluestone floor quickly became hot wherever she touched. Xiao Jiang felt her consciousness beginning to blur, and the chanting in her ears gradually became indistinct.
During the chanting, the shamans would close their eyes and immerse themselves in the world of calling for the god's descent. As a result, no one saw that the smoke that should have risen and dissipated in the hall was gathering in the air and slowly sinking onto the small figure kneeling before the idol.
Qingdai stood outside the palace gate, gripping the door frame tightly, her knuckles turning bluish-white.
How could that be? Why her?
A note from the author:
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