Although it was a childhood joke, you wouldn’t say it without having feelings, right?” Ye Hui rubbed her temples, seeing the helplessness in Qin Yuhang’s eyes, and said, “Elder Brother Huangfu and you are the senior and second senior brothers, yet you can’t manage the love affairs of your disciples. When your third junior brother returns, you’ll immediately pair him with the fourth junior sister.”
“If it were as easy as you say, there wouldn’t be so many lovesick men and women in the world.”
Ye Hui wanted to say more, but Qin Yuhang picked up a piece of braised duck with his chopsticks and fed it to her, saying, “They say ‘no talking while eating, no speaking while resting’. For the sake of your health, my dear, eat obediently. Even if the fourth junior sister doesn’t marry the third junior brother, she’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.”
Ye Hui ate while pouting, “You’re the second senior brother, yet you don’t care about your junior brothers and sisters’ love lives. You’re a failure of a senior brother.”
Qin Yuhang tapped her nose with his chopsticks and frowned, “Where do you get all these strange theories?”
Ye Hui felt her nose was wet and was about to wipe it, but Qin Yuhang leaned down and licked her nose tip with his tongue, smacking his lips, then kissed her lips, rolling the remaining braised duck with his tongue.
Ye Hui smiled and picked up another piece of braised duck to feed him, looking at his eyes shining with love. She enjoyed these moments of sweetness and occasional arguments.
…
Unlike the outside world, the area around Tianying Mountain had pleasant weather even in winter, with beautiful scenery.
Ye Hui, who hadn’t properly accompanied Qin Yuhang since her pregnancy, childbirth, and postpartum period, wanted to spend some time alone with him while other men were away.
She often swam in the hot springs at the back mountain, performing the synchronized swimming she had learned in her previous life, dancing freely in the water.
Qin Yuhang’s greatest pleasure was watching his beloved wife dance in the water, seeing her soft body glide like a snake, filling his heart with intoxication.
The Laojun Temple north of the grand square was a famous Taoist temple, only built a few decades ago and not particularly large. However, because the temple master and sect leader Tian Qi was a childhood friend of the old emperor, the emperor ordered funding from the national treasury to renovate the temple, attracting visitors from near and far, with increasing incense offerings.
The main hall contained statues of the Three Purities, Four Emperors, Compassionate Bodhisattva, Medicine King, Laojun, Eight Immortals, God of Wealth, and the Goddess of Childbirth – all present in clay and bronze sculptures.
Since the founding emperor had established Taoism as the state religion, there were many Yingtan believers. With numerous Taoist festivals and multiple deity birthdays each month, pilgrims constantly came seeking wealth, official positions, peace, and children.
The Laojun Temple was renowned far and wide.
However, after last year’s severe drought and the half-year-long war, people’s lives were difficult, and the temple seemed quieter.
Now that the war had ended and people returned to normal life, the number of pilgrims gradually increased.
Qin Yuhang often handled sect matters, and Ye Hui would accompany the disciples to do some bookkeeping. The Turkic prisoners brought to the military by Qin Yuhang had returned, and Fa Cai, finding the constraints uncomfortable, had taken leave and recently returned.
One day, Qin Yuhang went to teach martial arts to the disciples and hadn’t returned by sunset.
Feeling frustrated, Ye Hui wandered around with Fa Cai. The Laojun Temple faced north and south, with the towering Tianying Mountain behind it, reportedly the main peak of the Yan Zhou Mountain, with an unknown height as scientific measurement was insufficient.
But she estimated it was at least 5,000 meters high!
Standing in the valley and looking up, the snow-covered landscape from mid-mountain upwards reached the blue sky, presenting an insurmountable barrier.
Fa Cai pointed to the towering peak and said, “Locals call Tianying Mountain the Holy Mountain. Many brave believers go to worship. Madam, although the mountain seems close, it would take many days to reach its base. Many senior uncles have been there and say it’s extremely difficult with no clear path.”
Ye Hui wasn’t particularly curious about the mountain’s height, having traveled to many places in her previous life, including Mount Everest, which made this peak seem trivial.
Wandering through the temple’s large courtyard and entering the magnificent main hall, the statue of the Three Purities Patriarch stood in the north, wearing a purple golden crown and eight-trigram robe, standing majestically with a contemptuous gaze.
Ye Hui had always been skeptical of these deities who seemed to accept worship without helping humanity in times of crisis. Perhaps they had helped, but she hadn’t seen it – otherwise, how could events like 9/11, the Indian Ocean tsunami killing hundreds of thousands, the Wenchuan earthquake with 60-70 thousand casualties, and the increasing train accidents and air pollution occur?
“Hello, old man,” Ye Hui greeted the statue of Laojun, feeling she should say something: “You’re just a clay figure. Why do so many people bow to you? I think worshipping you is no different from worshipping a pile of mud. At least mud can be used for building. What can you do?”
She found it increasingly amusing, laughing, “But you do have one advantage – you can bewitch people, right? Don’t be shy. Others see you as a deity, but I know your true nature. ‘Journey to the West’ revealed everything. Despite looking mighty and impressive, in my little brother’s eyes, you’re not even worth a hair.”
“Little brother” naturally referred to Sun Wukong, making it sound more affectionate.
“Such nonsense from a young child, truly courting death,” a cold voice emerged from behind the statue. As the words fell, a man wearing a silver wolf mask stepped out, with long hair casually draped back, dressed in a black flowing robe, a matching belt at the waist, and black-blue deerskin boots.
The man’s attire was simple yet exuded an noble and overwhelming presence. The silver wolf mask was fierce and terrifying, revealing a merciless light that involuntarily sent chills down one’s spine.
Ye Hui was stunned for a moment when she first saw this person, but it only lasted a second before she recovered her composure.
No matter how different the man was, he did not cause her panic. Having seen many influential figures in her previous life, and as a key employee of a large company who had dealt with various situations, she had long become calm-minded.
She remained composed and said calmly, “Sir, are you suggesting that I should pay my respects to this clay figurine with utmost reverence and courtesy?”
Ancient people believed in gods to the point of madness. For her to be disrespectful to the divine would seem unnatural. In her previous life, she never believed in gods, but now that transmigration had happened to her, it seemed impossible to say there were no immortals. However, believing was one thing, and kowtowing to a clay figurine was another.
The man wearing a silver wolf mask coldly snorted, “Whether you live or die has nothing to do with me. How boring.”
After speaking, he was about to walk out of the main hall.
Ye Hui was left speechless. His behavior could be considered cool, and perhaps an inexperienced young girl might be captivated by him. But she was twenty-seven or twenty-eight in total across her lifetimes, with a mature mindset.
Before the man could leave, she coldly said, “If I’m wrong, why don’t you ask this clay figurine? If the figurine says you’re right, I’ll lose face and apologize to you.”
