Chapter Seventy-Two: Guan Yunlong Is Here

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It was strange, really. Since that little drought demon vanished, there had been no trace of it; even the fool had ceased to cause trouble after that night. If not for the incidents involving Third Grandpa and Chen Zhuzhi, one might have said that Fudigou had enjoyed a spell of peace. After the temple for Lord Guan was completed, Liu Fatty, now the village’s top spiritual figure, naturally became the “master” of the temple. This was, in fact, why Immortal He disliked him—not just because of his mockery that day, but because rivals in the same trade are bound to be foes. If Liu Fatty weren’t around, after the temple’s completion, everyone would surely have invited Immortal He to preside over its affairs; incense money, after all, is a considerable income for rural folk.

Fatty offered incense to Lord Guan—a ritual akin to giving the dragon its eyes. With much of the money Chen Dongfang left still remaining, Chen Qingshan decided to invite the county’s theater troupe. A stage was set up before the temple, and grand opera was performed. Chen Qingshan led the villagers in presenting offerings to the Martial Sage. For a time, all of Fudigou was lively. Adults laughed, children played, a scene of harmony. Looking upon it, I couldn’t help but wish that Fudigou could always remain so.

As for the temple’s name, we followed Fatty’s suggestion and called it the Temple of the Courageous and Martial King of Tranquility, because its purpose was to rid us of the drought demon. The title itself had been bestowed upon Lord Guan for his merit in defeating such demons, so it carried special meaning.

The opera lasted until past ten at night. Chen Qingshan and Fatty remained in the temple, not returning home. The daytime performances were nominally for the gods, but truly for the villagers’ enjoyment; the evening’s ritual was meant for Lord Guan himself. To be honest, when Fatty said he would invite Lord Guan to descend and subdue the demon, I felt a surge of excitement. Not to mention Lord Guan’s divine status—even the Guan Yu of “Romance of the Three Kingdoms,” renowned for loyalty and valor, commands the respect of all. Luoyang, as Lord Guan’s resting place, holds a unique regard for him among its people.

When the crowd had dispersed, I looked at Fatty and asked, “Fatty, can you really bring Lord Guan down?”

“Have I ever bragged to you? You saw for yourself—even though I couldn’t summon the City God, that’s because the City God is too timid. But Lord Guan—once I burn incense and talismans, if there’s trouble in the mortal world, he’ll surely descend to subdue demons,” Fatty replied.

Before I could speak, Chen Qingshan chimed in, “Fatty, since you’re so capable, why not tell Lord Guan to rid us of whatever’s in the coffins of the Twelve Ghost Pits as well? That would settle everything for good.”

Fatty’s pride faded at these words. He explained, “How can I put it? What I summon is Lord Guan’s divine consciousness. The power of that depends on my own cultivation—just like the spell I performed that night with my sect’s talisman; it looked the same as my master’s, but the effect was entirely different. So, if I summon Lord Guan to deal with the drought demon, that’s fine; but facing the corpse king in the stone coffin, it might be too much. If it were my master, it’d be as easy as Zhang Fei eating bean sprouts.”

I’d always been curious about Fatty’s origins, so I asked, “Then just invite your master! By the way, Fatty, what sect are you from?”

Fatty grinned sheepishly. “My master likes to travel the world, and I can’t find him now. Enough talk; it’s about time. Tonight, you’ll see what I can do.”

We entered the temple. The eternal lamp still burned. Even knowing we were to rid ourselves of the drought demon tonight, seeing Lord Guan’s majestic figure filled me not with fear, but with excitement. Fatty, too, was more solemn than ever. He went to the rear courtyard, bathed, and changed into a black jujube Daoist robe; he hadn’t eaten meat for a week in preparation, calling it fasting. After seven days of fasting, tonight was “purification and changing robes.”

Seeing Fatty in Daoist attire, I finally understood the saying, “Even in dragon robes, he doesn’t look like a prince.” Fatty’s broad shoulders and thick waist made him look like a gangster, and the robe was a bit tight—clinging to him like a bodysuit. There was none of that immortal aura as seen on television. Seeing Chen Qingshan and me stifling laughter, Fatty blushed and said, “This robe’s from a couple years ago—haven’t had any use for it lately. Back then, I was much slimmer.”

His remark about being slimmer broke my composure, and I burst out laughing. Fatty took a few steps, and the robe split open, revealing his underwear and a backside as wide as a millstone—making him look even more ridiculous. He tugged at his clothes and cursed, “Laugh all you want! Let’s go to the front temple!”

At the front temple, Fatty was all seriousness. Chen Qingshan and I stopped laughing. Fatty first offered incense to Lord Guan, then knelt upon the cushion, hands together, chanting. Listening closely, I gathered he was stating his name and sect: Liu Tianci of Purple Mansion Mountain, disciple of Supreme Master He Anxia. He declared that a drought demon was plaguing the area, and for the peace of the people, he established the Temple of the Courageous and Martial King, inviting Lord Guan to descend and rid the land of evil.

Fatty had revealed his sect and his master’s name. I made a mental note to investigate further, at least consult my big brother. After Fatty finished his recitation, he opened his eyes and said to Chen Qingshan and me, “What are you waiting for? Kneel! Welcome the Courageous and Martial King!”

Neither of us dared delay, especially seeing Fatty so grave, so unlike himself. We hurriedly knelt. Fatty stood up.

He stood at the doorway, where a table had been set as a ritual altar—red candles, incense burner, fruit offerings. Fatty placed incense in the burner, took out talisman paper, held it between two fingers, lit it, and waved it. Then he knelt deeply, pressing his forehead to the ground. “We humbly welcome the Courageous and Martial King!”

Curious, I craned my neck to see. When Fatty lowered his head, I hurriedly pressed mine to the ground, not daring to move. A minute passed—no sign of anything. I began to wonder if Fatty’s ritual had failed, and was about to raise my head when suddenly, outside the temple, a gust of wind and sand swept up, stinging my eyes. Amidst the storm, a red light seemed to appear.

Frightened, I kept my head down. My eyes burned from the sand, but I dared not rub them. Soon tears streamed down my face.

At that moment, I heard outside the temple—

Hooves pounding, approaching from afar.

By now, I was trembling all over; at this critical moment, I dared not look up.

Finally, a horse whinnied loudly, as if someone had reined it in before the temple gate.

This was true hoofbeats, a man in flight.

Outside, a voice like a great bell called into the temple: “Who summons me, Guan Yun-chang?!”

Fatty dared not lift his head, kneeling as he replied, “Liu Tianci of Purple Mansion Mountain, humbly disturbing the Martial King’s peace. A drought demon plagues this land; I would not trouble Your Majesty were it not for its elusive nature. For the sake of the people’s peace, I beg the Courageous and Martial King to descend and subdue the demon!”

At this moment, my heart was in my throat. Even though Fatty said it was only a strand of the Martial Sage’s divine consciousness, I wanted to see for myself the legendary Lord Guan’s heroic bearing.

I secretly raised my head to look outside.

There, a mass of red light.

Within the red glow,

A man in the Martial Sage’s robes, red-faced, beautiful beard, astride the Red Hare, wielding the Green Dragon Crescent Blade.

One glance filled me with boundless awe. His appearance, compared to the statue in the Temple of the Courageous and Martial King, was both familiar and yet more imposing, more alive.

As I stole a look at the Martial Sage, his phoenix eyes suddenly opened, and, in the next moment, we locked gazes. I trembled all over.

Even more astonishing, the Martial Sage raised his blade, and the Red Hare charged forward, kicking the door open, leaping high over Fatty’s head.

Lord Guan’s Green Dragon Crescent Blade swung down toward me.

“You fiend, do you dare?!” Lord Guan shouted.

Staring at the descending blade, I was stunned, frozen in place.

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