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Clichéd Beginnings
In the distant Hongmeng World, there was an abundance of immortal qi and flourishing spiritual power. Each flower, each blade of grass, was capable of becoming immortal; every mountain, every river, teemed with Spiritual Beasts. Over the years, these creatures developed their Spiritual Wisdom, absorbing the essence of the sun and the moon. Afterward, they embarked on a quest for the supreme Dao. Among them, the Human Race, favored by Goddess Nvwa, was born with natural wisdom and innate spirituality. They could pursue the Dao much faster than other beings. Eventually, they stood out, gathering in communities to learn from and support each other, growing ever stronger...
They formed clans and villages, built cities, and established nations. Later, many succeeded in glimpsing the Dao, achieving full cultivation, and ascended into immortality, looking down upon all beings. Feeling invincible, the Human Race turned on each other in conflict. At first, it was just disputes between individuals, and wars between nations. Eventually, Immortals from the Immortal Sects joined in, triggering a war that lasted for thousands of years. Millions perished, the heavens and earth mourned, Nine Provinces lamented, with corpses strewn across fields and mountains weeping in sorrow. Finally, unable to bear the torment inflicted by the Immortals, the world shattered with a tremendous roar, fragmenting into countless pieces that scattered in all directions, forming myriad worlds. From then on, the Hongmeng World was divided into countless fragmented realms, each evolving independently, never to return to its original grandeur.
Among the countless worlds, there were those like Blue Star, which abandoned the Dao and pursued a unique path of steel and might, transforming into humanity. There were worlds where everyone practiced immortal cultivation to restore the glory of the ancient Immortal Gates. Some fell into the Demonic Path, where every corner was ruled by fierce and ruthless demons. Others, like the Dharma Ending World, were dominated by ordinary mortals while the Immortal Sects retreated to the mountains. And this story takes place in one such world...
On the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival, the moon hung high in the sky, casting a brilliant white light for thousands of miles, enveloping the entire earth. At this time of the year, the moon was closest to this world. Someone with a bit of Cultivation, standing on a mountaintop and activating their Eye Power, could faintly see the layered palaces in the sky and might even hear the ethereal music of the Immortals. That palace is called Guanghan, but even with extreme Eye Power, one couldn't see Fairy Chang E dancing, the Jade Rabbit pounding medicine, or Wu Gang cutting trees...
"Old Taoist Priest... Old Tao... You thieving Old Taoist... You dead cow-nosed bastard..."
In the mountains, there was a Taoist temple that had been built a long time ago. It had not received offerings or incense for quite some time. The temple keeper had long since fled, leaving behind only a few crumbling walls and some broken roof tiles. The blue tiles of the side halls were mostly damaged, allowing large swathes of the moon's light to pour in and shine upon the statues of various deities, their broken noses and faded mud figures created a weirdly kind and compassionate smile. Added to the shadows of the webs hanging between the rafters and the ceiling, it all appeared quite spooky.
While the side halls were ruined, the main hall was still in relatively good condition. The roof tiles overhead were intact, and the three main deities' statues were clean. Despite their age and slightly faded colors, on the old offering table below, the lingering incense and clean wild fruits indicated that these three Immortals were still revered by the people.
"You thieving Old Taoist..."
A figure burst in, carrying two large paper packages, shouting loudly while entering,
"Old fart, are you dead yet?"
Approaching the offering table, the person lifted the cloth hanging down, peeked underneath, and gave the shadows a kick,
"Old fart, are you dead yet?"
Someone finally moved within the shadows beneath the table, cursing indistinctly,
"Oy! You disrespectful brat, kicking me again? Are you itching for a beating?"
With a snort from the nose, the other person sneered,
"You call yourself a Taoist Priest! Today's the fifteenth, it's time to offer incense to the Grand Master. Why don't you come out and bow your head?"
After speaking, the person placed the items from their hands onto the offering table and, using the lamp there, revealed two large paper-wrapped parcels. They opened one to reveal a greasy, plump chicken tail up in the air. Pushing the oily paper forward, they opened the other parcel, revealing half of a braised pig's head with a vivid, ruddy hue. Wiping their hands behind them as if to clean them, they took the incense sticks from the side, lit them with reverence, took a step back, and knelt down to kowtow to the three statues above,
"To the three Honored Masters, on this festive day, I offer you some of the good stuff..."
After a respectful bow, just as their head touched the ground, the shadow under the table, having smelled the roast chicken and braised pig's head, suddenly darted out. A pair of withered hands reached for the table,
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