The sword thrusted, penetrating the heart of the ghost, and killed it dead on the ground.
"By the heaven's blessings, ghosts are slayed and evil is subdued!"
On either sides of the Martial Deity Avenue, cheers erupted like ocean current, coming
waves after waves, one higher after the other. Before the crimson red gates of the
palace, in the courtyard, the two cultivators who played the roles of god and ghost
bowed to the surrounding crowds and stood down after to the side. The martial match
that opened the act heightened the excitement in the city; not only the streets were
elbow-to-elbow crowded, even the roofs were littered with brave climbers, clapping,
hollering, the crowds going wild.
A celebration of this magnitude was truly brimming and bustling. In the history of the
Kingdom of Xianle, if any festival of ShangYuan* was to be described thus, it must be
today!
Upon the towering platform, a row of finely dressed royals and nobles, all wearing
courteous smiles on their faces, overlooked below to the crowd. Within the palace, a
long line of hundreds waited silently. When the bell chimed, Guoshi smoothed his
non-existent moustache and called, "Path-Opening Warriors!"
"Present!"
Crown Prince's Celestial fairies!"
"Present!"
"Musicians!"
"Present!"
"Calvary!"
"Present!"
"Ghost!"
"Present!"
"The God-Pleasing Martial Warrior!"
No one answered. Guoshi frowned, noticing a complication, and turned his head, "The
God-Pleasing Martial Warrior? Where's the Crown Prince?"
Still, no one responded. The one who answered to "ghost" earlier hesitated, then
removed the horrifying mask, revealing a clean, pale face.
This young man appeared to be about sixteen or seventeen, his skin and lips were both
light in colour, fresh and neat, with a pair of eyes black like obsidian, shining bright. His
hair was soft and silky, a few loose strands lightly littered on his forehead and cheeks.
He looked quiet and obedient, contrasting with the monstrous mask in his hand.
He replied quietly, "His Highness the Crown Prince has left."
Guoshi almost fainted.
But for the sake of this grand occasion he couldn't faint, so he held on, and shouted with
angry exasperation, "Wha-?! He left?! When did His Highness leave?? The ceremonial
parade is about to leave the palace gates!! When the grand stage is revealed and
there's only a ghost but no god, my old bones won't be able to swim out of all the spit
that'll come flying at me! Mu Qing, why didn't you stop him???"
Mu Qing lowered his head, "When His Highness left he told me to pass on the
message, saying not to worry, and everything can go as planned. He will return
promptly."
Guoshi was hysterical, "How can I not worry? What do you mean, 'promptly'? When is
'promptly'? What if he doesn't make it??"
Outside the palace gates, some of the people who had been waiting since early
morning were losing patience, and were noisily demanding for the event to start. A
cultivator came rushing forward, "My Lord Guoshi, the queen sent a messenger asking
why the parade hasn't started? The fortuitous hour* is fast approaching, if we don't
leave now we'll miss it!"
Hearing this, Guoshi prayed that a rebel army would suddenly invade and disrupt the
ShangYuan Parade completely.
That this headache would happen right at the most crucial moment!
If this Headache was anyone else, he would've roared with rage already, even raising
his sword to kill wouldn't be strange. But this Headache just so happened to be his pride
and joy, and the very, very, very distinguished, precious son of another. He couldn't beat
him, he couldn't yell at him, and he definitely couldn't kill him. Rather than kill him, he'd
more likely kill himself!
Just then, someone ran across the black palace path, rushing into the palace, shouting,
"Lord Guoshi, why hasn't the parade started? The time is about to pass, everyone
outside is on edge!"
The one who came was also a young man of sixteen or seventeen, his form upright and
tall, his skin the colour of wheat, his back carried a long black bow and a snow-white
quiver. His lips were pressed tight, his brows knit. Even at such a young age his eyes
were strong and determined. The moment Guoshi saw him, he grabbed him, "Feng Xin!
Where's His Highness??"
Feng Xin was taken aback, but instantly appeared to have understood something, and
anger filled his eyes, turning his gaze to Mu Qing. As for Mu Qing he had already put his
ghost mask back on without a word, his expression unseen. Feng Xin said gravely,
"There's no time to explain! Please start the parade immediately, His Highness the
Crown Prince will not disappoint you!"
There was no escape. Bringing out a grand stage without the God-Pleasing Martial
Warrior was death; delaying the procession and missing the fortuitous hour was also
death. Despairingly, Guoshi waved his hand, "Start the music; depart!"
Upon receiving the command, the flutes and strings started to play, and the hundreds of
royal warriors at the front of the procession cried, beginning their march, leading the
massive, impressive parade. They have departed!
The warriors at the front symbolized the thorny paths of the mortal world. Immediately
following were the virgin girls especially chosen, beautiful and elegant, a basket in their
hands, tossing flowers in the air like fairies, paving the path with blossoms and filling it
with fragrance. The musicians rode in carriages of gold. The moment the procession left
the palace gates, the crowds were amazed and astonished, fighting to catch the
flowers. However, no matter how glamourous, how grand, this was only the warm-up
act. The grand float, a glorious stage was about to emerge.
Sixteen white stallions decked in gold pulled the grand stage from the depths of the
palace gates, slowly coming into sight before the eyes of millions. On the stage was a
black clad ghost, a monstrous mask on his face, a nine feet zanbato in his hand before
him, and gravely, he shifted to a fighting stance.
Guoshi's heart was tense, waiting for a miracle. Yet, no miracles happened. The crowd
broke into chatter. Above on the high platform, the royals and nobles frowned, looking at
each other, all wondering, "What's going on? Why is the God-Pleasing Martial Warrior
not on stage?"
"Has His Highness the Crown Prince not arrived yet?"
"Where's brother Lian?"
In the centre of the tall platform sat a dignified, handsome man, and a pale skinned,
amiable and gracious noble woman. They were the king and queen of the Kingdom of
Xianle. Not seeing the one who should be there, the queen appeared worried and gave
the king a look. The king took hold of her hand, using his gaze to comfort, telling her not
to worry, and watch and see what would happen. The crowds below however had no
one to comfort them, and yelled crazedly, the shouting so loud it could almost raise
roofs. The Guoshi wished he had the courage to kill himself. Yet, Mu Qing who was on
stage was quite calm. Even without his opponent he looked at ease, taking care of his
own mission, and CLANG, threw his heavy sabre down, resting it upright before him.
Performing a round of chilling slaughter, the black clad youth impressively ended the
opening act of becoming a 'ghost'.
By face and by form, Mu Qing was delicate and elegant like a gentle scholar, but an
impossibly heavy nine feet zanbato was still swung like it was feather light in his hands,
as if it was weightless. Another group of cultivators playing ghosts leapt onto the stage
– they were instantly defeated, and chased off the stage. The sword danced skillfully,
calm and collected, and made the performance quite exciting to watch, so some in the
crowds cheered for him. However, the people didn't come to watch 'Ghosts Causing
Havoc', so after that act there were more noise demanding, "Where's the God-Pleasing
Martial Warrior??"
"Where's His Highness the Crown Prince??"
"We want to see His Highness playing the Great Martial Emperor! Defeat evil!"
Upon the towering platform, a furious voice shouted, "Where's my cousin? What the
hell!! Who wants to watch this bullshit? Where the fuck is my cousin the Crown
Prince???"
No need to see who it was, obviously that loudest voice belonged to none other than Qi
Rong, the Prince Xiao Jing. Sure enough, many looked up and saw a young man finely
dressed in a light turquoise brocade with a necklace rush to the edge of that platform,
raising his fists angrily. This young man was no more than fifteen or sixteen, his face
pale and his brows black, rather good looking, but his face was twisted, as if he would
jump off the tower at any time to punch someone. However, the tower was too tall, so if
he jumped he'd break his legs if not die. So instead, he grabbed a white jaded teapot
and threw it.
That thrown teapot was aimed directly at the back of the head of the ghost, flying at him
speedily looking like it might knock him out on the spot, but surprisingly, the ghost
shifted his body, raised the zanbato slightly, and caught the teapot on his blade.
The quivering teapot came to a stop at the tip of the blade, prompting another wave of
cheers. Mu Qing then flicked the long sabre and the teapot was hurled into the air, later
caught by someone below the stage. He continued to play the role of the ghost
languidly, swinging the zanbato, slaughtering humans. Qi Rong was enraged and was
going to throw something else but the queen had ordered someone to drag him down,
and so he was dragged down reluctantly. Yet, the faces of the nobles were looking more
and more grim, some becoming restless.
That the God-Pleasing Martial Warrior would disappear right before the Heavenly
Procession of the ShangYuan Festival was no funny matter!
Just then, a roaring cheer like the storm exploded from amongst the people, louder than
the cheers from before. A snow-white silhouette descended from the sky and landed
right before the black clad ghost!
Upon his landing, his heavy white dress fluttered and covered the grand stage in the
shape of a giant flower, a golden mask hiding his face. He held a sword in one hand,
and the other gently flicked the foreboding sword, the resounding ringing pleasing to the
ear. This gesture was serene and confident, as if the ghost meant nothing to him. The
ghost slowly raised his zanbato and pointed it at him, and the white clad martial warrior
unhurriedly rose to his feet.
Qi Rong's eyes were shining brightly, his face red. He jumped up and down, shouting,
"Cousin Crown Prince! COUSIN CROWN PRINCE HAS COME!!!"
Above and below, all were stunned to silence.
This entrance was like a real descent of a heavenly being, exceedingly audacious!
That fortress tower was at least over ten meters tall, and as the eminent Crown Prince
whose person was worth a thousand gold, he still jumped down from it! In that moment,
thousands had thought a god had truly descended. When they recovered from their
shock, fervor filled their veins; the crowd went hysterical, applauding with intensity. Qi
Rong too was shouting, leading the crowd in mad applause, shouting until his voice was
hoarse, clapping until both his hands were red. The king and the queen shared a look,
smiling, and applauded too. The rest of the nobles eased their brows and sighed a
breath of relief before joining in the cheer. On either sides of the Martial Deity Avenue,
crowds were going wild like crashing waves, hundreds and thousands of men so excited
they pushed against the royal guards, wanting to approach closer and holler.
Upon the grand stage, two forms, one black, one white, faced each other. Each with
their own weapon in hand, God and Ghost would finally face off.
Seeing that everything worked out, Guoshi finally relaxed his shoulders and mounted
the towering platform. After nodding to his fellows in greeting, he found a seat for
himself and sat down. The king chuckled, "Guoshi, how did you come up with such an
exhilarating entrance? How exciting."
Guoshi wiped sweat from his face and smiled, "It's indeed exciting. But unfortunately,
this lowly servant didn't come up with it. I'm afraid it's His Highness the Crown Prince's
own idea."
The queen patted her heart, "That mischievous child. To jump from such a height
without a word of warning! I almost stood up in fright."
Guoshi couldn't help but lace his words with pride, "My queen lady can be at ease. The
martial might of His Highness the Crown Prince is extraordinary. Tens of meters is
nothing to him, and even with towers that are many times higher, he can easily mount
and easily jump with his eyes closed."
The queen appeared pleased and said gently, "Thanks to the teachings of Guoshi."
Guoshi laughed, "It's nothing, it's nothing. His Highness the Crown Prince, darling of the
heavens, is divinely gifted, marvelously talented, and graciously brilliant. It is the fortune
collected for three lifetimes that gave this lowly servant the chance to become his
teacher. I have a premonition that with His Highness the Crown Prince's presence,
today will go down in history as the most impressive Martial Match of the God-Pleasing
Ceremony."
His words of praise were smooth and alluded the heavens. The king smiled faintly and
turned his head back to watch the performance. "I hope that's the case."
In the Heavenly Procession of the ShangYuan Festival, the God-Pleasing Martial
Warrior and the Ghost were the two most important roles. Both must be young men
exceedingly skilled in martial arts. Especially the God-Pleasing Martial Warrior; the
presentation and make of his costume were strict, transcendently glamourous; and after
dressing, everything worn weighed to be about forty to fifty pounds. The Martial Warrior
must, under this heavy burden, before the eyes of millions, march around the capital
many times, and perform in the martial match for at least four hours. There must be no
mistakes made throughout, and so the performer must be extraordinarily skilled.
Fortunately, both young men were exceedingly talented. The sabre parried with the
sword, one slashed, another struck; the thrilling match was a sight to behold. The
moves were also calculated to the minutest detail, obviously having practiced and
rehearsed a number of times.
"Who's the one playing the ghost and parrying with the Crown Prince?" The king asked.
Guoshi cleared his throat, "Your majesty, he's a young trainee from the Royal Holy
Pavilion. His name is Mu Qing."
The queen said gently, "I see that child is also rather skilled in fighting, just a bit weaker
than my son. Maybe about the same level as Feng Xin?"
Guoshi didn't appear to agree to her sentiment. Qi Rong had been laying on the lap of
the queen munching on grapes, and spat out the skins in a rush, "Psh, psh, psh! No
way, no way! Not just a bit weaker, he's farrrr weaker! Not just anyone can compare to
cousin Crown Prince!"
Hearing this, the queen patted his head, smiling, and the rest of the nobles all laughed,
their bodies swaying back and forth in mirth. They teased, "Little Rong certainly clings to
his cousin! If he doesn't praise him for a day he's miserable."
Down below in the crowd, the cheers and hollers were rising to the heavens: "FIGHT!
FIGHT! KILL HIM!"
"SLAY THE EVIL!"
The roars of excitement was growing stronger. Qi Rong was also adding to the noise,
both his hands around his mouth like a trumpet, shouting and laughing, "COUSIN
CROWN PRINCE, GO! YOU CAN EASILY KNOCK HIM DOWN WITH ONE HAND,
SHOW HIM OFF!"
Suddenly, the ghost on the stage slashed forward. The Martial Warrior repelled the
attack with his sword, but "Hmm?"-ed.
Technically, during the Heavenly Parade, the martial match was a performance for
pleasing the gods, and at most one should only use a seventh of their power, ceasing
after swords touch. However, the strike he received just now, the sword in his hand
almost flew out. Obviously his opponent had used all of his might in that blow.
Xie Lian raised his head slightly and called out, "Mu Qing?"
The young man playing the ghost didn't say a word, and slashed at him again. Xie Lian
had no time to think, and received one attack after the other, their weapons clanging.
'Well this is more exciting than fake play.' Xie Lian thought, and his spirit heightened,
getting more into the fight.
Thus, under the crashing roars of cheers, the weapons clashed and sparks flew. The
more invigourating the fight was on stage, the louder the cheers below. Suddenly, there
was a deafening schwing, white light flashed, and the crowd "Ah"-ed, their breaths held.
That nine feet zanbato of the ghost was snapped out of his hand by the long slender
sword of the God-Pleasing Martial Warrior, and it flew towards a stone pillar of the
towering platform, nailing into it. A few bystanders tried to pull it out, but even when they
pulled with all their strength the zanbato didn't move an inch.
"What kind of sabre is this? What strength you must need!"
Upon the grand stage, the God-Pleasing Martial Warrior shook his sword, and flicked on
the blade again. Another tinkling sound, and behind the golden mask came soft
chuckling.
"You fought well, but you still lost." Xie Lian said calmly but cheerfully.
The ghost lost his weapon, half kneeled on the ground, still silent but his fist gripped
tighter. Xie Lian craftily spun his sword, and under the cheers from all around, was
about to lunge his final strike, 'slaying' the ghost, when just then, there was screaming
from above!
Shocked, Xie Lian lowered his sword and looked up, and saw a blurry shadow falling
rapidly from the city wall.
In that moment, he didn't have time to think, and in a flash, he tipped his feet and
pushed off the ground, leaping into the air, darting upwards weightlessly.
He surged and flew, his sleeves fluttering open like the wings of a butterfly, then landed
gracefully, light like a feather. Tightly in his hold was a person, and only when he
touched solid ground did Xie Lian sigh a breath of relief, and looked down.
In his arms was a child, head wrapped full of bandages, dirty and unkempt, curled in his
hold, watching him dazedly.
——–
●ShangYuan Festival is also known as the Lantern Festival, marking the 15th and
last day of the Lunar New Year. It's a day for worshipping and celebrating the
celestial heavens.
On a separate note, ZhongYuan celebrates the dead, and XiaYuan celebrates
the waters. Yuan means the origins of the universe in Chinese Foundation
Philosophy (Iching), and the Yuan festivals divided the lunar year into three: the
Upper (Shang), the Middle (Zhong), and the Lower (Xia), each celebrating the
divine forces that invigourate the world.
●Fortuitous Hour: the best time to do something based on the daily fortune
calendar that stipulates how lucky each hour is based on the date, month, year,
and the stars