A piece of Japanese incense

Chapter 221 Goddess

Zhi Yihe stood at the last threshold of the Autumn Maple Courtyard, his plain robe covering his bare body. The others stood at the steps, their figures elongated in the morning light.

"Girl, the weather is different every ten miles. Remember to put on more clothes to avoid the wind."

"Hey! Now that you're gone, I'll have some free time~"

"May my sister be nourished by the nectar of the Buddha's teachings, reach the other shore soon, and achieve perfect merit."

……

Zhi Yihe said goodbye to everyone one by one. Yu Yi stood outside the high threshold, remaining silent the entire time, and only handed her a moon-white embroidered cloak.

Zhi Yihe took the cloak but didn't put it on immediately. She folded it and held it in her arms. The faint warmth felt like her last, reluctant struggle. Through the gap in the brocade curtains, she cast a last glimpse and vaguely saw her father disappear behind the screen wall, never to reappear. The wheels rolled over the bluestone slabs, and the sound was like grinding on her heart.

The sounds of the marketplace surged in like boiling water. The flower seller's bamboo basket, piled high with freshly picked jasmine, wafted its fragrance. The peddler's copper bells jingled as he paraded through the streets. Children chased and played, their laughter clear as broken jade...

The wind blew open a corner of the curtain, and a child caught a glimpse of her and whispered, "Dad! Goddess! It's the goddess!" Then the adult covered his mouth and silenced him.

"Shh! Don't disturb the goddess's practice!"

After hearing this, Zhi Yihe smiled and shook his head to show his helplessness.

At dusk that day, Sanchuan City opened its gates to welcome the refugees who were left homeless after the war.

It was on that day that the eldest princess gifted her a light gauze dress, its silvery, moonlit hue inlaid with glazed beads. She stood on the city wall, immersed in the shimmering light of flowing gold and molten iron. The wind whistled through, billowing her skirt like a pair of invisible wings.

At that very moment, she heard someone calling her. Below her were heads swarming like ants, their voices shredded by the wind, drifting up in fragments, but the words were indistinguishable. She could only lean over the railing and gaze into the distance, past the rows of gray-tiled roofs, and beyond, at the winding, scar-like city walls.

"Look! It's the goddess appearing!" A hoarse cry suddenly pierced through the clamor, shooting up the city walls like a sharp arrow. Countless heads in the dense crowd below the city shot up in unison, thousands of eyes instantly focused on her.

His eyes were burning, filled with the fear of surviving a disaster and burning anticipation, and they fell heavily, almost making her lose her balance.

An old woman with white hair was the first to fall to the ground in the dust. Her skinny hands trembled as she raised them above her head, holding a chipped earthenware bowl. Turbid rice soup swayed around the rim. "It's the Goddess! It's the Goddess who saved us!"

This kneeling was like a command, and the crowd below the city wall lowered themselves layer by layer. The sound of their kowtows merged into a dull hum, clashing against the ancient masonry of the city wall. Even incense, candles, and paper money were hastily lit, with plumes of smoke rising only to be quickly blown away by the wind, spreading the choking smell of burnt food.

Zhi Yihe instinctively retreated, trying to retreat into the heavy shadow of the city wall, but her feet seemed to have taken root. Glancing down, the rough battlements cast long shadows in the setting sun, casting her own image perfectly across the vast, freshly rammed earth in front of the wall. The shadow, stretched to an immeasurable length by the setting sun, blurred its edges into the dim yellow dust and twilight. The silhouette of her flowing skirt shifted and shifted in the mist, uncanny like the flowing halo behind a deity or Buddha.

"The holy spirit has appeared! It's the dharmakaya of the goddess!" The crowd burst into even more fanatical shouts.

The wind grew stronger, causing her messy hair to dance wildly, tangling around her neck and causing a slight tingling sensation. The huge shadow also swayed across the scorched earth, as if breathing, having life.

Zhi Yihe stared blankly at his own deified shadow dancing silently on the ground. A chill mixed with a sense of absurdity quietly crept up his spine.

Of course, she knew that the people were not prostrating themselves before her, a fragile body. It was simply an illusion projected by the endless panic of those who had survived the catastrophe and the desperate eyes that longed for protection.

She was created as a deity in troubled times, and from then on, her image as a goddess was passed down from mouth to mouth, and the people enshrined her portrait in their homes for protection.

After the world was at peace and all beings lived in peace, her divine manifestation, no matter how glorious it was, would eventually turn into a wisp of unrecognizable old dust. She never expected that someone would still recognize her.

The carriage slowed down as it approached the pavilion on the outskirts of the city. My father eventually caught up and stopped under the old locust tree beside the pavilion.

Zhi Yihe hurriedly opened the brocade curtain and leaned out. Zhi Yian's hand reached out through the window lattice. His fingertips were cold and trembling slightly. He stroked her cheek and gently held her hand, but he said nothing.

"Daddy..." Zhi Yihe spoke with difficulty, but didn't know how to start.

"Just go with peace of mind! Gains and losses are up to you."

Zhi Yihe held the white handkerchief tightly in his palm and crumpled it into a ball.

The sound of bronze bells rang out, and the carriage finally started moving again. Zhi Yihe looked back stubbornly until Zhi Yian's figure gradually became smaller in his sight, and finally condensed into a vague ink mark.

As dusk fell, we finally arrived at the post station. The hall was crowded with people, and the clatter of coarse pottery dishes, the loud calls of merchants urging people to drink, and the sharp replies of waiters were a bustling scene that assaulted our eardrums.

Zhi Yihe wrapped her cloak tightly around her, and the old servant led the way with a hunched back. His skinny hands cleared away the turbid air and noise, leading them through this bustling world.

The wooden staircase was steep and narrow, groaning under the weight of the load. At the end of the staircase was a dark corridor, with a few lines of dim light leaking through the cracks in the doors of the guest rooms on both sides, as well as whispers, coughs, and heavy sighs.

I reached a guest room at the end of the walkway and pushed open the creaky, thin wooden door, letting out a thicker odor of musty dampness mixed with the smell of dust. The room was extremely small, containing only a couch, a table, and a chair. A small, earthenware lamp, its wick blackened with scabs, hung on the table. Its flickering light barely dispelled the thick, impenetrable darkness in the corner.

"Miss, please just stay here for one night. It's better than sleeping in the wilderness." Yu Tuan put the green cloth package he was carrying on the table with disdain, spread the handkerchief on the bench, and invited Zhi Yihe to sit down.

"Well, it's nothing for me. I'm just worried about whether Tingzhu can adapt. The two of them have been suffocating in the box all day, and there is no decent place to rest at night." Zhi Yihe touched the jade ring with her fingertips. This was the one her father silently put into her hand before they parted.

"Don't worry, girl. Yuzhu has already gone to rescue them. He will be back soon. I've even asked the waiter to get us all the quilts in their store. We'll sleep on the floor tonight!"