I returned to the Hall of Terrestial Descent and faced my same, old pile of life scripts waiting to be worked on. It was hard to believe that only a few shichen had passed in Shenjie. I thought about Empress Vesper and Huayu and sighed. No wonder there was a saying that three meters of ice could not be melted in one day.

I plopped myself in front of my table and tried to write, but I could not focus. The villagers were going to be alright, but those responsible for their deaths still roamed, plotting and scheming in Mojie. All I could think about was Huayu needing to fight those bastards but lacking weapons. After ruining two life scripts, I threw down my brush.

A stroll would clear my mind, I decided. One of the nice things about the Hall of Terrestial Descent was its location. Centrally built, it was proximal to all the shops. As I walked, I kept a safe distance from all the popular ones, so I wouldn’t have to curtesy to all of the deities ranked higher than me.

It felt awkward strolling in the market without Shangtian or Barette, because most strollers seemed to be walking in two’s or three’s. I hastened to imitate a few of the lone walkers, head down, hands behind back, large quick strides.

A quack came from a store called “Shenjie Pets and Rides”. A banner by the door read “Find your companions for life!”

I squinted and saw several gods surrounding a giant duck.

“This duck yao isn’t a conventional ride, but you will look as fabulous as any of those gods on dragons and phoenixes. Ducks are famously loyal. In a thousand years, it will make an excellent page or fairy.”

I stifled a laugh at the thought of riding a giant, yellow duckling.

I was about to turn back when a deathly shriek captured my attention.

“Hear that? It came from the larynx of a pulao,” a young god hovering on his sword cried. He held up something and was soon swallowed by a crowd of eager young gods.

Curious to know what they were looking at, I made my way out from behind the decorative trees. I squeezed between the excited gods until I saw the green object in the center.

“Attach this to your weapon and you can disorient your enemy, guaranteeing you a split second advantage. Only ¼ a liter of chi!” The young god on the sword said. His sword was no longer able to hover with so many people pushing against it.

“3/8th!” One god offered.

“7/16th!” Another god yelled.

The object finally exchanged hands at 15/32th a liter of chi.

“It’s a shame he wouldn’t donate it to our army. The pulao larynx would have been an excellent addition on any soldier’s sword,” a voice behind me said.

“That’s hard to come by, you can’t expect him to just give it away,” replied another voice.

“He could be honorable and sell it to us for lower than market value. In the words of his highness, every one of us needs to make sacrifices for the protection of Shenjie.”

There were some murmurs of approval. I turned to look. The honorable pompus speaker turned out to be Daoxu.

“Daoxu,” I exclaimed. “You don’t seem the type to wander around the market.”

Daoxu nodded to greet me and then said, “I’m taking my soldiers to find enhancements for their weapons in response to his highness’s latest edict.”

I noticed the armored robes of the gods around Daoxu and felt a pang of envy. He already had minions!

“What edict?” I asked.

Daoxu glanced at me with puzzlement.

“I thought you would be the first to know, being his highness’s disciple.”

Clearly, Daoxu didn’t read the Pillowbook. Thankfully, he didn’t press.

“His highness is requiring all of his armies to fortify their standard issue weapons as uniquely as possible. The idea is to make every soldier’s weapon unpredictable to the enemies,” Daoxu explained. “Besides using chi to sharpen, lengthen, and strengthen the weapon, we thought we could see what add-ons we could find here.”

I bit my lip. So Huayu was making preparations… for something. I wondered if these were his alternative arrangements in response to Empress Vesper’s sanctions.

“What are typically the kind of add-ons that you look for?” I asked.

“Anything that could give a split-second advantage,” Daoxu said.

“Why don’t you just make a Fu?” I asked. Fu seemed simple enough to make.

“You think you can just draw symbols for wind and power on a yellow paper with red ink, or mumble an incantation and expect to create a Fu for causing storm?” Daoxu asked incredulously.

“Er… yes?”

“The effectiveness of a Fu depends on the complexity of its design and the age of its creation. Plus, we don’t have nearly enough chi to make a powerful Fu,” Daoxu said exasperatedly.

He looked reproachfully at the passing dieties. “All these gods have powerful Fu and talismans that if they just donated…”

Daoxu droned on about the need to expropriate private possession for the benefit of all.

I thought hard. How could I make other gods willingly give me their prized possessions for Huayu’s army?

I stared at the crowd of gods around us. Someone had taken out a nephrite amulet with a Fu attached that supposedly created a shield for the possessor. The enthusiasm of the crowd here almost rivaled the daily crowds at the Hall of Terrestial Descent.

“Terrestial Descent!” I whispered.

“What did you say?” Daoxu paused in the middle of his speech and asked.

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“I figured out how to get you what you need—excuse me, nice meeting you all!” I called back as I sprinted away.

I bolted into the Hall of Terrestial Descent and headed for the shelf marked “From Diety to Mortal, Applications”. I brought the entire shelf of scrolls to my table and feverishly unrolled every scroll. I took notes on what gods and goddesses wanted to experience in mortal lives.

The Fatewriter’s jaw dropped when he saw the sight.

“Working on new scripts already? I mean… when I was young, I was even faster. Yeah, much faster,” he said, scratching his nose.

When the sun was setting, I finally had a good understanding of the top experiences that Shenjie dieties desired.

According to my tally, gods wanted to be the strongest, smartest, and most popular heroes who begot superpowers, defeated evil against all odds, received wide acclaim, and won the hands of beautiful ladies. Yes, multiple beautiful ladies. I scoffed.

For goddesses, they didn’t have to be the prettiest, smartest, or the kindest, but they had to be pursued by men who were all hopelessly in love with them. The men had to be willing to sacrifice everything to be with them and to be willing to do anything for them. I giggled.

I grinded my ink, pulled out an empty scroll, and began to write. Slowly, the hall emptied of other Fatewriters. By midnight, I had finished two highly-dramatic, gut wrenching, action-packed life scripts with happy endings. I took the two scrolls to the printing chamber, where a group of woodpecker yao chipped away at a block of wood according to the characters on my scrolls. Next, an octopus yao sprayed ink upon the block, which stamped itself repeatedly on sheets of white silk. Soon, I had two piles of silk scroll of my stories.

If my instincts were right, then the two piles in front of me would become coveted items to bored dieties who aspired for fun mortal lives, or “mortacations” as they liked to call it. Instead of selling them for chi, I would trade them for talismans and trinkets for Huayu’s armies.

Grinning at my own wisdom, I slipped a female version of the life script into my sleeve... just in case I ever wanted a mortacation.

“Why can’t we hold the fundraiser at the market?” Daoxu asked as he surveyed the secret garden. Pots of captivating peonies were strategically placed around baskets marked “Talisman Dropoff”. Newly-planted roses stirred in the breezing, emitting a dreamy fragrance. The garden alone should attract deities.

“You want something, then you have to give something,” I replied, surveying the results of my hard work.

“Sure,” Daoxu said and strolled over to his soldiers, who were busy stacking the life scripts into two giant piles.

I rolled my eyes. Boys, they didn’t understand the importance of setting the mood. As popular as I expected the life scripts to be, it would still be hard for gods to trade in their precious talismans. But gods would be more inclined to trade when they see other gods trading, which was why the fundraiser had to be at a place where gods lingered. The secret garden was the perfect place.

The vines covering the entrance of the garden swayed. Through it flew over a phoenix. It landed in front of me expectantly.

“Right,” I said and handed it a ball-shaped pastry I made from nuts. I had bribed all the phoenixes of Shenxiao with pastries to announce our fundraiser. The phoenix swallowed the pastry in one gulp and flew away.

“When are gods coming?” Daoxu asked.

“Anytime now. That was the last of the phoenixes,” I said, looking at the door anxiously.

Just then, the vines were blown aside by a giant cloud carrying thirty or so deities.

They landed in the center of the garden.

“Daoxu, do your soldiers want to hand some life scripts for these gods to peruse?” I said happily. The soldiers startled into action. Even Daoxu could barely contain his expression of shock.

I watched as the large group took the life scripts and began to read. Soon, some began to look excited, others with wide eyes, one goddess was staring dreamily into the distance.

I cleared my throat.

“Erm, one Fu for each script,” I reminded, my voice slightly high-pitched.

There was a rummaging of robes and each god pulled out something.

“This is a shrinking Fu. Is it acceptable?” One god asked.

I looked towards Daoxu. From the drool on his mouth, I figured it was ok.

More gods arrived, mostly in twos or threes. I tried to greet everyone but my knees soon gave out. I moved aside and let Daoxu’s soldiers handle the transactions.

The garden was packed full of deities. Petals lay all over the ground, brown and trodden. I grimaced. I would have to fix everything after this was all over.

I moved into the center of the garden, stopping here and there to answer questions about the life scripts.

“Ziyan!”

I looked around to see who called my name. Then from the ground popped out Tudi.

“What is going on here?” He demanded. His face was furrowed into lines and wrinkles. I had never seen him so upset.

“I’m holding a fundraiser here to—”

“A fundraiser? Are you crazy? His highness will kill you!” Tudi cried.

“We are doing this precisely for him—”

“You need to stop it right now,” Tudi interrupted. He lowered his voice, “This garden belonged to the Goddess of Flower.”

My jaw dropped. My garden… was her garden?

Tudi looked at the trampled plants and began to moan.

“This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have let you in here in the first place.”

“I can fix it!” I said quickly. “Just look at how many Fu we got! He will be too happy to be mad.”

Tudi just looked at me pitingly.

It was then that the sun disappeared. I looked up at the giant cloud hovering directly over the garden. On it stood Huayu.

All chatter died.

“Greetings to your highness,” everyone collectively said and kneeled. I dropped to my knees as well.

Huayu did not excuse us so we remained kneeling. After a terse silence, a soldier ventured to say, “Your highness, are you here to trade a Fu for a life script too?”

“Out,” was Huayu’s reply. A frightening sheen dawned on his face. Flames of anger lit up his eyes. He looked like an enraged lion.

There was a burst of water vapor as everyone raced to cast a cloud. The gods scattered before my eyes. Some threw down the life scripts and took back their Fu.

Daoxu hesitated but got on a cloud too when he saw Huayu’s face.

Soon, the garden was empty except me, Tudi, and him.

I could feel Huayu’s fury, but I was angry as well.

Tudi began, “Your highness, Ziyan didn’t know—”

“What is your problem?” I demanded. “I put in so much hard work to fortify weapons for your army! Why would you kick everyone out?”

Tudi gasped. Huayu’s eyes seemed to glaze over with shards of ice.

“Don’t. Ever. Come. Here. Again,” Huayu said. Each word felt like a jab in my chest.

With that, he swept away.

I stood frozen. Tears welled in my eyes. I tried to hold them back with all my might, but pretty soon, I was bawling.

“Ziyan, don’t be sad. He just didn’t want the garden to be ruined,” Tudi said, hovering about me. “Nothing happened. He didn’t even punish you. Please stop crying, your tears are killing the flowers again. Do you need my handkerchief?”

I never got to reject Tudi’s offer. A hand had closed over my shoulder in a pincer-like grip. It whirled me around. Through a blur of tears, I saw Huayu standing in front of me again.

I winced in pain, but he did not let go.

He was staring at me as if thunderstruck. In his eyes were hope, disbelief, and something else I didn’t understand.

“Your highness, you are hurting her,” Tudi’s voice came from the sidelines.

Huayu dropped his hand. After a few deep breaths, he said, “I apologize for my lack of manners. How… did you find this garden?”

I refused to respond.

“She found it by chance,” Tudi answered for me.

“By chance,” he repeated softly. He looked between me and Tudi; a smile grew on his face.

I stared back at him, baffled by his change in behavior.

“Return to Azure Vault Palace first thing tomorrow morning,” he ordered. The authoritative tone was back in his voice.

What was I? An obedient dog at his beck and call?

“No, thank you. I’m studying under a Fatewriter at the Hall of Terrestial Descent now,” I said testily, and added in case he didn’t believe me, “Tudi found him for me.”

“My friend told me that Ziyan is doing great work,” Tudi quickly said.

Huayu picked up a discarded life script. As he thumbed through them, I felt my neck heat up.

“There has been a series of reports from Yodu that many souls have requested to not be reincarnated due to overly-titillating lives. Is that your doing?” He mused after reading the life script.

My face was now burning as well as I remembered all the bedroom scenes that I had written.

“Alright! So I’m not fit to be a Fatewriter’s disciple either.”

I met his eyes in defiance. To my surprise, his eyes twinkled.

“Of course you aren’t the Fatewriter’s disciple,” he said with a glance at Tudi.

“That’s… that’s right,” Tudi stammered, and continued meekly, “my friend hasn’t registerd Ziyan yet, so she isn’t officially his disciple…”

“What? I’m still his disciple?” I exclaimed to Tudi.

Huayu smiled.

“You were always mine.”