Chapter 1

Fifty miles east of Jintai Prefecture lies a mountain called Yushan.

From a distance, it appears slender and steep, with rugged rocks. After a clear snowfall, it looks like a snail shell tilted to one side, bright and lovely.

It was mid-spring, the ice had just begun to melt, and the late plum blossoms had not yet faded, their fragrance lingering in the air.

Monkeys howled, cranes called, cicadas chirped, and deer bleated, creating a scene as if painted.

Every year at this time, groups of scholars and students would bring beautiful women and fine wine, gather in the mountains, recite poetry, and revel in carefree abandon, enjoying themselves immensely.

One day, as evening fell, the sunset illuminated the mountain, and wisps of smoke rose gently.

Scholar Zhang, who had not yet finished his tour, raised his cup and suggested to his companions, "Gentlemen, why don't we stay overnight at Brother Chen's house at the foot of the mountain and continue our tour tomorrow?"

"Brother Chen's house at the foot of the mountain,"

Scholar Wang interjected, "Brother Wang, you may not know this yet."

"Three months ago, Chen Yan fell ill and has been bedridden, often raving and delirious, appearing like a madman."

"The Chen family has spent all their wealth to invite famous doctors, but to no avail."

"Now, all the servants have left, leaving only a maid to take care of him."

"He is worse than dead, a complete invalid."

"Is that so?"

Zhang was greatly shocked by this news, spilling the wine in his cup onto the ground, and exclaimed, "I remember last year after my mountain tour, Brother Chen treated me. He was truly quick-witted and naturally intelligent, a rare talent. I thought he would surely achieve great success in the imperial examinations, but I never expected such a tragedy to happen."

"Hmph,"

Cui, with his long eyebrows and thin lips, looked unkind and sneered, "Chen Yan was young and arrogant, relying on his talent. He thought he was upholding the teachings of the sages, and enjoyed scolding others without mercy. I heard that during a temple sacrifice, he deliberately blocked the entrance to the temple and harshly criticized the priestess, trying to show off."

"Who would have thought that he would receive such retribution? After returning home, he fell ill and has been delirious ever since, acting like a fool."

"I think Chen Yan brought this upon himself, inviting his own misfortune."

"Temple, priestess,"

Zhang's eyelids twitched, his expression uncertain. After a moment, he said, "Chen Yan was quite bold."

In the Great Yan Dynasty, the emperor had enshrined a hundred deities, allowing them to enjoy offerings and to oversee the thirty-six provinces, with the power to monitor officials.

The saying "There is a god three feet above one's head" vividly illustrates the omnipresence and deep influence of the deities.

Even the most upright officials of the current dynasty could do little more than criticize the situation.

For a mere student to dare to scold and speak of upholding the teachings of the sages, restoring sacrifices, and eliminating evil deities, was inviting trouble.

"Confucius did not speak of the strange, the violent, the chaotic, or the supernatural."

Wang shook his head, drained his cup, and said, "That's old news, Chen Yan was too stubborn."

"It's not stubbornness, it's foolishness,"

Cui, with his narrow-mindedness and deep jealousy of Chen Yan's talent, added without mercy, "A wise man knows the times. Disrespecting the gods leads to such a fate."

"Let's not talk about it anymore, let's drink."

Zhang wisely ended the topic and refilled his cup.

He had only met Chen Yan once and was not particularly close to him. In fact, he was secretly pleased by Chen Yan's misfortune.

After all, Chen Yan had easily passed the county and prefecture exams. With his talent, he was almost certain to become a scholar, and might even become a government student.

Losing such a formidable competitor was a good thing.

At the Chen family estate, one could see Yushan from the front door.

In the courtyard, bamboo and trees cast shadows, creating a gloomy and desolate atmosphere. Vines and weeds grew wild, and green moss covered the rocks, hinting at decline and desolation.

In the main hall, on a wooden bed, a young man lay unconscious. The evening light filtered through the small window, illuminating the blackness on his forehead, a sign of deep illness that no medicine could cure.

"Alas,"

Doctor Lin examined him, shook his head, and sighed, "It's up to the will of heaven."

"Uncle Lin,"

Ah Ying, hearing this, burst into tears and sobbed, "Master cannot have such a short life."

"Child,"

Doctor Lin looked at the frail girl before him and consoled her, "You must be more open-minded. Don't exhaust yourself. I see what you do, and you can be at peace with yourself."

"Thank you, Uncle Lin,"

Ah Ying helped carry the medicine box and said, "The old master and madam treated me kindly, and I owe them a great debt. No matter what I do, it is my duty."

"You, you are so stubborn,"

Uncle Lin, with his hands behind his back, walked out and said, "I can only hope that good fortune will come to you."

"Uncle Lin, I'll see you out."

Ah Ying followed him with quick steps. At this point, she could not afford to pay for the consultation, but Uncle Lin's visit was a great kindness.

After they left, the black light on the young man's forehead gradually disappeared, replaced by a greenish hue that flowed and then vanished.

"Hmm?"

Chen Yan opened his eyes for the first time, his gaze bright and no longer stubborn, but calm and resolute. "I didn't expect to regain my memories from my previous life at such a time."

"In this life,"

Chen Yan rubbed his aching forehead, lost in thought.

There were deep mountain temples where poor scholars met understanding female ghosts, enjoying each other's company.

There were desolate fields where young men first met fox maidens, falling in love and making eternal vows.

There were vast lakes and rivers where fortunate people might encounter immortals, entering the dragon palace, where a day underwater was a hundred years in the world.

There were city and county temples where filial sons argued their father's case, moved by heaven and earth.

In short, in this world, deities manifested, foxes and ghosts roamed, scholars were esteemed, and the empire was unified.

"It really is like 'Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio.'"

Chen Yan sat up on the wooden bed, looking out the window. The frosty wind blew from the west, the plum blossoms were slender, the bamboo shadows were new, and the moonlight fell, creating a scene of scattered shadows, like remnants of snow.

In his previous life, he was born in an era of declining divine power. Despite his remarkable talent, he could only barely reach the realm of a Yin spirit. Before he could solidify his foundation, he was reduced to ashes by a calamity.

In this life, however, the Daoist arts were revered, a completely different situation.

At this moment, Ah Ying, who had gone to see Doctor Lin off, returned. She saw Chen Yan sitting on the wooden bed and, at first, rubbed her eyes in disbelief. Realizing she was not mistaken, she burst into tears of joy, "Master, you're awake?"

"Yes, it was a long dream."

Chen Yan smiled, his expression gentle, and softly said, "You must have suffered a lot during this time."

"Ah Ying is not suffering."

The girl's tears fell like a string of pearls, but her heart was filled with joy. "As long as Master is healthy, Ah Ying can endure any hardship."

"Um."

Chen Yan did not like to talk much, but he remembered everything in his heart.

"Master, I always said that the old master and madam were virtuous. You cannot be a person without good fortune."

"After this great calamity, you will surely rise to great heights. In the future, you will pass the imperial examinations, become a top scholar, and bring glory to the family."

"At that time, the emperor will bestow divine status, allowing the old master and madam to enjoy offerings."

Ah Ying was truly happy, walking back and forth, chattering nonstop. Only when she noticed the fatigue on Chen Yan's face did she stop and say, "Master has just woken up and must be very tired. Rest for a while, and I'll go make you some porridge."

With that, Ah Ying skipped out, humming a tune, like a joyful skylark.

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