ATEG Chapter 67.2

Outside the city, the old man and boy still waited eagerly, like many, many other refugees.

The city gate slowly opened. A cart loaded with many large vats was pushed out.

“Porridge distribution! Porridge distribution!” People swarmed toward the porridge stand. With the deterrent presence of guard soldiers, though people pushed and shoved, they didn’t come to blows.

The boy and old man also ran toward the porridge stand. The surging crowd quickly separated the two. The boy clutched his bowl tightly. His small figure was submerged in the crowd. Someone’s body struck his back, someone’s leg blocked his path. The boy stumbled and fell to the ground, about to be trampled by the crowd.

“Don’t push! All of you, make way!” Someone roared, pushing through the crowd to pull up the fallen boy.

Dizzy and disoriented, the boy didn’t have time to see who had saved him. He first felt for the bowl at his chest.

The already chipped broken bowl had shattered into pottery shards. The boy nearly cried out but desperately held back his tears. “My bowl…”

Without a bowl, how could he carry porridge? The porridge distributors wouldn’t provide bowls.

“Zhong Daren.” A soldier squad leader approached the man who had saved the boy and quietly saluted.

Zhong Yongwang waved his hand. The soldiers weren’t having an easy time either. With so many refugees, accidents were inevitable. He looked at the crowd that had formed an orderly queue under the soldiers’ scolding. The porridge in the stand was limited. Even if this child had a bowl, he probably wouldn’t get any this round.

He hesitated, then untied the bamboo canteen from his body and pulled out half a dry biscuit from his chest, handing them to the boy. “Eat.”

Only then did the boy look up and notice the person who had rescued him—a tall man whose clothes were somewhat disheveled but made of good, sturdy fabric.

The boy licked his parched lips and asked carefully, “How much can I drink?”

Grain was precious now, but clean water was no less precious than grain.

Zhong Yongwang was stunned, then said gently, “It’s all yours.”

The refugees in line looked over with longing and envy, but because of the soldiers’ deterrence and their hope for the porridge stand, no one tried to rob him.

“Thank you, daren.” The boy carefully nibbled two bites of biscuit, drank two sips of water, then stoppered the bamboo canteen.

“Why did you stop eating?” Zhong Yongwang asked.

“I want to save some for grandfather.” The boy gripped the bamboo canteen tightly and said timidly.

“Where is your grandfather?” Zhong Yongwang asked again.

“We got separated. We agreed that after getting porridge, we’d meet under that tree.” The boy pointed to a half-withered tree not far away.

But even after the porridge was distributed and the refugees had returned to their shacks, the boy’s grandfather still hadn’t appeared.

The boy’s mouth turned down as if to cry. Anxious and worried, not daring to stray far from the tree, he shouted loudly in the vicinity. “Grandfather! Grandfather!”

But the old man never appeared. During the porridge distribution, some people had been knocked down and injured, sitting or lying to one side, but his grandfather wasn’t among them either.

Zhong Yongwang sighed inwardly. He had already guessed the old man’s thinking. He crouched down and said to the boy, “Come with me first.”

The boy stubbornly shook his head. “I have to wait for grandfather. Grandfather will worry if he can’t find me. Grandfather still hasn’t eaten…”

“Waiting here won’t lead to any result. How about this—you leave your things under the tree. I am Zhong Yongwang, I live on West Erchang Street. Then your grandfather can come find you.” Zhong Yongwang said.

He shouted his name and address loudly once more, then pulled the reluctant boy into the city.

After they left, the old man emerged from a nearby shack not far away, watching the direction of their departure, wiping his dry, reddened eyes.

…..

Inside the court hall, the atmosphere was oppressive and silent. Lu Hong looked at the weary yet stubborn ministers below, feeling his throat parched and painful. “This matter, tomor—”

“Your Majesty! Our relief grain carts have just been raided by refugees, Your Majesty!”

Lu Hong took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Wait three more days. After three days, if still…”

Before Lu Hong could finish his words, someone suddenly rushed frantically into the hall. “Your Majesty, Your Majesty! It’s raining!”

“What did you say?!” Lu Hong rose abruptly.

“It’s raining, Your Majesty!” The messenger’s face was full of joy as he said loudly, “It’s normal rain! Drinkable water!”

Lu Hong strode out of the hall and looked up at the sky.

Raindrops as fine as hair fell, creating wet spots one by one on the ground.

The ministers from inside the hall also followed out. The minister with half-white hair extended his hand. His palm was gradually struck by droplets the size of millet grains. He said worriedly, “How is this little rain enough…”

The minister whose robes still bore kneeling creases looked up. A raindrop fell on his eye corner. The fine water droplet quickly disappeared into his wrinkles. “It’s raining. Aren’t you going to be happy first?”

The minister with half-white hair broke into a grin and let out a long breath. “Of course I’m happy. Now that it’s raining, don’t you think about doing such cruel, inhumane things again.”

He turned to look at the other man, only to find that his severe wrinkles had long since smoothed out, his smile even more joyful than his own.

It was raining!

The rain pattered down, growing heavier, until it settled at a level that was misty like fog but could be felt with weight when striking one’s palm, its cool moisture nourishing the hot, dry air.

Zhangning City, Langyue City, Taiwu County, Shuigu Town… People raised their heads in unison to look at the sky.

At the Li Manor in the foothills of Daqing Mountain, Mister Hou Li looked up, but not toward the towns and villages below the mountain—rather toward the depths of Daqing Mountain.

There, the sky was still clear and azure blue. This rain fell only within the borders of Lu Kingdom.

Not all places worshipped deities as devoutly as Lu Kingdom, nor were all places willing to trust and rely on deities, so naturally the deities had no need to expend their precious accumulations and divine power assisting mortals during the great calamity.

Mister Hou Li withdrew his gaze and looked toward the courtyard still sealed by thick fog, feeling worried. Several months had passed, yet there was still no movement from High God Li Chi’s side.

This was unusual. Given High God Li Chi’s character, if there were such matters, he would certainly make arrangements in advance, just as he had with the Dream-Eating Tapir incident.

The High God was injured—only he and Ding Qin knew this. Ding Qin bore High God Li Chi’s divine seal. If something happened to the High God, Ding Qin would certainly sense it, and with her current abilities, returning from Ding Family Village wouldn’t take too long. So… there should be no problem?

Yet Mister Hou Li still felt uneasy. If after some more time there was still no movement from within the white fog, should he go find Ding Qin and bring her back? Perhaps through the seal’s connection, she could sense something…

…

In the dream world, fragments of old memories scattered. The deity once again became lost in the white fog.

Prayers sounded in the mist, guiding his direction.

…May my body of blood serve as divine sustenance… I pray forgiveness for my sins, respectfully offering this feast.

Another prayer.

The deity looked toward the sound.

As his existence spread through the world, more and more mortals made offerings and sought his aid. Their power was weak, their desires strong.

Strong desires caused people to gather and cooperate, using weak power to reproduce and expand across the earth, building magnificent and splendid scenes.

Under the sunlight, sandalwood and beautiful jade formed the altar, gold plates and silver cups held the offerings.

The worshippers kowtowed, heads bowed and eyes lowered, solemnly praying to “be forgiven for sins,” seemingly devout.

But their heart-thoughts had already risen with the curling smoke.

Fear. Entangled by evil causes, evil results must be repaid. Those who knew what evil causes they had sown also began to fear the same evil results being visited upon themselves.

Hatred. Hatred for enemies—why couldn’t they be cleanly eliminated?

Anger. Lowly servants who didn’t follow orders or obey their wishes, not only cunning but daring to rebel.

Love-attachment. Fine clothes, delicacies, beautiful appearances—there were so many beautiful things in the world, how could one not cling to them reluctantly?

Joy. Mortal power was weak, but divine power was strong. Now that they had offered grand sacrifices, they could receive the deity’s favor. Karma severed, evil retribution no more, worldly joys and blessings to be enjoyed forever without end, no more worry of collapsing foundations.

Desires…

The strong desires grew increasingly intense, burning into deep, violent love, hate, anger, and fear, actually causing people to attempt to use the power of heaven’s deity with their weak power.

Why not?

If there were no needs from mortals, why would that lofty heaven’s deity lower his gaze to contact mortals?

Since this was so, what the deity sought was probably their sacrifices. What those lowly, suffering people could offer was merely a bowl of water, a stick of incense, or perhaps some of their own blood. But as a prosperous family, they could provide the deity with the richest wine, the most precious incense, along with pure, living lives and souls.

As long as the deity was willing to accept their offerings, he would listen to their wishes and fulfill their desires.

They were willing to “repent their sins.” Hadn’t they already offered the most precious sacrifices for “repenting their sins”?

Blood spread along the patterns, expanding in gradually cooling rivulets across the altar’s intricately carved designs. The several people used as offerings had lost their breath, leaving only faces twisted in death with eyes staring wide, and hearts in bowls that had once been red and hot.

Under the clear illumination of sunlight, such a grand sacrifice, even though the worshippers’ karma showed no severance, still drew the gaze of the deity they anticipated.

It was those worshippers prostrating in the most humble posture, kowtowing with bowed heads, whose most arrogant and filthy heart-thoughts also fell into the deity’s ears. That karma stained gray-black with blood was equally clear and distinct in the deity’s eyes.

The deity’s gaze moved to the altar. The magnificent, exquisite gold, silver, jade, and stone couldn’t hold that gaze for even a moment. What he saw were those four souls clutching their empty chest cavities, weeping in grief and pain.

A brush white as bone slipped from the deity’s sleeve, its tip stained with gradually cooling blood.

The deity received the sacrifice and listened to the souls who had died miserably upon the altar.

Those driven by desire had also come to see desire as the world’s standard. When people whose hearts were full of greed tried to understand the deity by their own standards, they also forgot that in this world, there was a word pronounced “compassion.”