Chapter 1 - The Legend of Bu Bian
There was once a small incident that became a legend in the humble Xianhou Province. It began when a merchant by the name of Bu Bian had discovered a miraculous tree. Every hundred years, this tree would produce a single fruit containing the essence of immortality, a fruit that would grant whoever ate it an eternal body of indestructible gold.
Immediately, cultivators of tremendous power descended upon Bu Bian to demand the tree. He beat his chest and tore his robes and finally conceded to give the tree to the ruler of the Xianhou province, Magister Hou Shenfeng.
Of course, it would have to be protected. Therefore, high walls were built around the hill the tree stood on, but Bu Bian shook his head sadly. “Surely, walls will not stop the ferocious enemies that desire this tree.” Nodding in agreement, Hou Shenfeng ordered his diviners to build eight pillars of jade containing fearsome guardian spirits.
“Ah, but what if there are nine cultivators who come seeking our- your treasure?” Said Bu Bian, with tears in his eyes.
Scowling and pinching the bridge of his nose, Hou Shenfeng ordered a castle built around the tree, a castle of white gold impervious to qi and steel alike. But Bu Bian would only tut and click his tongue and weep for the great treasure that would surely be stolen from them. “Doomed, ah, we are doomed.” He would mutter sadly.
As the first fruit budded on the branches and began to ripen, Magister Shenfeng became truly obsessed with Bu Bian’s mournful words. He could no longer sleep without tossing and turning all night, hearing those words, ‘doomed, doomed’ as if they where whispered into his ear by a ghostly voice.
Of course, this may have had something to do with the Magister foolishly granting Bu Bian the position of advisor. Bu Bian was a cunning man, and he had invented a kind of reed pipe that made his voice sound quite unearthly.
In any case, Magister Shenfeng got no sleep at all until he had ordered the creation of eight hundred clay golems to guard the walls, and used a drop of his own precious blood in the construction of each to ensure their immortal loyalty.
By this point, there were dark circles under Magister Shenfeng’s eyes, and he refused to leave the castle around the tree or allow anyone besides Bu Bain around him. Together they drank expensive wines all day, sitting slouched around a jade table in dishevelled robes, both too afraid to sleep.
“It is magnificent, isn’t it? That tree is absolute safe, yes, totally and perfectly safe, yes?” Shenfeng was almost pleading at this point, begging Bu Bian to find no more faults in his defense.
“Ah…” But a single tear fell from Bu Bian’s eye as he surveyed this grandeur together with Magister Shenfeng “I cannot bear to say it!”
Immediately the Magister’s eyes went wide with fear. “No, teacher Bian, what is wrong now?! You must say!”
“The feng shui is wrong! All wrong!” Seizing one of the chairs, he quickly spun it in the opposite direction. Grabbing hold of a painting, he flipped it upside down. “Everything is precisely where it shouldn’t be!”
“We must fix it!” Quite drunk, Shenfeng rose to his feet and drew his sword, slashing down an ornamental tree he imagined to be impeding the flow of positive qi through his palace.
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“Yes, we must!” Together they tore the whole of the palace apart! They smashed vases, turned beds to face the sun, drank wine, cut every third leg off the tables, drank wine, erected a shrine and burnt yellow paper and, finally, turned all the wine jars upside-down, not for the sake of the flow of qi so much as to see if there was any last drop of wine hiding in the palace.
There was not a single drop of wine remaining!
“Is it done, teacher Bian, is it done?”
“Yes, yes, just one last thing has to go and it will be done.” Taking Hou Shenfeng by the shoulders, Bu Bian turned the man around three times and pushed him out the door, and just as Shenfeng was starting to get a funny feeling about this, he heard the door slam behind him and the wild laughter of Bu Bian.
Through the palace, the wonderful impenetrable palace, Bu Bian ran laughing with glee as Hou Shenfeng howled and wept and pounded on the door behind him.
If he had a thousand years he could not have broken that door down!
Just as Hou Shenfeng finished tearing out his hair and began to declare the long list of all of Bu Bian’s ancestors who’d had congress with goats, Bu Bian was cackling to himself as he dragged a chair up to the base of the tree and clambering atop it, for the man was very short, and reaching up to pluck the just-now ripe fruit from the branches.
It smelled so fragrant, so heavenly sweet that Hou Shenfeng could smell it from where he lay weeping against the door, and the poor man let out a scream of rage as the smell burst forth even more powerfully, which could only mean Bu Bian had bitten through the skin.
Indeed, Bu Bian had! He had taken his first bite of that heavenly fruit, juices bursting into his mouth as his teeth sunk into creamy flesh...
And he choked! Yes, in the middle of his high walls, his impenetrable castle, with no one to help him, Bu Bian choked on a pit hidden within the spirit fruit, fell off his chair, and died.
Thus, the legend was born of the man who choked on immortality.
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The Seven Thundering Heavens! Vast waves rolled on a jade sea, and storm clouds of pale blue fire moved in spirals above. Atop these clouds were scattered palaces of frozen lightning, blindingly bright and beautiful, like halls of pure golden fire.
Above rose the autumn-red moon, and on its surface could be seen halls of black ice that gleamed with an evil luster in the light of the stars. Now and then, the whispering wind brought screams echoing down from the souls imprisoned there for purifying torment.
It was a sight worth dying for, but as Bu Bian was marched to his fate across a bridge of bones spanning that jade sea, he let out a deep sigh of melancholy. Looking up to the golden palaces and the red moon, he clenched his fists and made a promise; this would be the last time Bu Bian was returned to the Great Wheel of Reincarnation!
Next time, he wouldn’t let immortality slip away. Next time… Bu Bian clenched his fist and stared up at the moon with melancholy tears in his eyes. Next time, he wouldn’t choke.
He had learned absolutely nothing!
The soul of Bu Bian looked quite like he had in all his past lives, as powerful souls can often shape their bodies; he was quite short but also quite handsome in a pale and roguish way, with a truly indomitable and shameless spirit in his grin that said, “I admit to nothing!”
With his death, all his memories of past lives had been returned to him. He knew he’d been here eight hundred and eighty eight times before! But if he had to return eight hundred times more, he would, sooner than give up his villainous ways.
In fact, Bu Bian was one of the oldest souls here, for he’d never achieved the least virtue and been allowed to reincarnate as a greater being. He was instead born over and over onto backwater worlds, always becoming a merchant, and every time he’d made the same mistakes.
Like dung attracts flies, like a war attracts profiteers, Bu Bian was attracted to drunken plans, to dangerous woman, to anything but hard work and inner peace.
As he stared out at the golden halls and the red moon lifting above a sea of jade, Bu Bian wished only for a cup of wine and company to drink it in. He had no interest in the heavens! Everything he wanted, gold and women and wine, he could find on earth! If he could someday become immortal, and live forever without changing a thing, that would be perfect.
Put simply, Bu Bian was an incurable thief and a brazen schemer! To illustrate how bad his situation was, there was an old joke among the denizens of the Seven Thundering Heavens; “I’ll pay you when Bu Bian learns his lesson!”