Beneath the Gods
Mu Wan’s first impression of Qingyuan Temple was that everything felt clean and solid.
Simple.
Neat.
The buildings were hardly refined. If anything, they were somewhat rough, visibly worn by age.
Yet that was precisely what gave the temple its atmosphere.
It looked almost cinematic.
The sinking sun broke through the thick clouds overhead.
Several beams of light poured into the small room, illuminating it from end to end.
A faint fragrance of sandalwood lingered in the air.
Mu Wan smiled and followed Liu Qianxiu into the side room.
The room was not large.
Both the furniture and the bed were made of dark reddish-black wood, their surfaces polished smooth, the corners worn soft with age.
Everything carried the quiet weight of years.
There was only one bed.
One low table.
Two meditation cushions.
A small lamp sat on the table.
The internet signal on the mountain was poor, but phone calls still worked.
There was electricity too.
“Rest for a while.”
Liu Qianxiu set down her suitcase.
“I’ll go check on Qingchan.”
Then he turned and left, closing the door behind him.
Qingchan had just finished calling his master.
When he saw Liu Qianxiu, he asked,
“Where’s Sister?”
“She needs to rest.”
Liu Qianxiu looked at him.
“Can I sleep in your room with you for the next few days?”
“Of course.”
Qingchan nodded readily.
“I usually sleep with Master anyway. I’m scared to sleep alone.”
Xuanqingzi normally slept in the main hall.
The two side rooms, one on either side, had been prepared for Liu Qianxiu and Qingchan.
Whenever Liu Qianxiu was away, Qingchan rarely dared sleep alone in his own room.
Most nights, he went to find his master instead.
“Come on.”
Liu Qianxiu took Qingchan with him toward the side room on the right.
Mu Wan had only climbed the mountain for an hour.
It was not enough exercise to make her particularly tired.
Yet after lying down and reading for a while, her eyelids grew heavy.
Before long, she fell asleep.
Her consciousness gradually blurred.
Somewhere at the edge of sleep, she seemed to hear someone speaking again.
The words were covered in mist, impossible to make out.
But the voice was low.
Familiar.
Pleasant.
Mu Wan immediately recognized Liu Qianxiu.
What exactly did he say last night?
The question was still in her mind when she woke.
She tried to remember for a long while.
Nothing came.
Eventually, Mu Wan got out of bed and opened the door.
She had not slept for long.
The sky outside was not yet dark.
From beside the wall of the main hall, she could still see the red sun sinking toward the mountains.
The moss between the courtyard stones was damp from the rain.
Mu Wan walked toward the incense burner and looked into the main hall.
A man sat inside reading.
He wore a pale blue-green Daoist robe.
Sunlight spilled through the doorway.
Red-gold light fell across his cool, pale skin.
Seated before the low table, Liu Qianxiu looked distant and solitary.
Dark brows.
Dark hair.
Clean features.
Like an immortal from the heavens.
As though sensing her approach, he lifted his eyes.
His expression remained calm.
His voice sounded like clear water flowing through the mountains.
“Hungry?”
Mu Wan pulled herself from her wandering thoughts.
She smiled and walked toward him.
Then nodded.
“Hungry.”
The rear courtyard was smaller than the front.
There were only two buildings.
Both were made from old gray brick, their rough walls still damp from the rain.
One was the kitchen.
The other was probably the washroom.
In front of them stood an old well and a vegetable garden.
The garden itself was not large, but there was a surprising variety of produce.
Someone had even built a trellis.
Tender green cucumbers hung from one side.
Long beans from the other.
Qingyuan Temple was a place for quiet cultivation.
Naturally, the conditions were simple.
So far removed from ordinary life, the temple was largely self-sufficient.
When Liu Qianxiu had gone to rest earlier, Qingchan had slept too.
By the time Liu Qianxiu finished making dinner, the little boy had only just woken up.
He came running over, rubbing his eyes.
The moment he saw Liu Qianxiu, he wrapped both arms around one of his legs and clung there.
A child was still a child.
With his little bun, round face, and both arms around Liu Qianxiu’s leg, Qingchan looked unbearably cute.
Mu Wan was setting the table.
She laughed.
“When your junior brother isn’t here, do you hug Master like that?”
Qingchan opened his sleepy tea-colored eyes.
He shook his head.
“No.”
His voice was soft and sweet.
“Master’s legs are too short. I’m bigger now, so I can’t hang on anymore.”
Mu Wan looked up at Liu Qianxiu.
At nearly one hundred ninety centimeters tall, he certainly did not have that problem.
Those legs could probably support Qingchan for another two years.
Even around a child, Liu Qianxiu’s expression did not change very much.
Once they sat down, he simply reminded Qingchan to eat by himself.
The little boy obeyed and concentrated seriously on his bowl.
Under the soft light, one tall figure and one tiny one sat together.
There was an indescribable warmth to the scene.
After dinner, Mu Wan received a call from Li Nan.
The signal inside the temple was poor, so she walked outside and sat on the stone bench beneath the old pine.
Li Nan no longer sounded as calm as he had a few days earlier.
There was urgency beneath his voice now.
“Did you offend someone?”
He continued before Mu Wan could answer.
“The jobs we finalized last week have all called me over the past two days saying your scenes were cut.”
“They paid the contract penalties, sure, but I’ve only booked your schedule through next week.”
His tone tightened.
“The productions that have already started filming won’t sign you either. At this rate, you won’t have any work after that.”
The meaning was obvious.
Someone was closing every road in front of her.
Mu Wan’s fee was neither particularly high nor particularly low.
Double compensation from several breached contracts amounted to a decent sum for her.
But to Mu Qing?
It was nothing.
Mu Qing had only one purpose.
She wanted Mu Wan to go to her and beg.
Mu Wan had spent years straightening her own spine.
Mu Qing wanted to break it herself.
Darkness spread across the mountain.
Irritation tightened in Mu Wan’s chest.
This was a private feud.
There was no point explaining it to Li Nan.
Even if she did, it would accomplish nothing.
If the company discovered that she had offended someone powerful enough to block every opportunity in front of her, they might simply abandon her too.
Her mother’s death anniversary was next week.
Mu Wan rubbed both hands over her face.
The sky had gone completely dark.
Wind at the summit was cool.
She remained beneath the pine for a little while longer.
Then she stood and went back inside.
The lights in the main hall were on.
Three divine statues stood beneath them, stern and imposing.
The low table and meditation cushions beside them were empty.
Mu Wan glanced toward the side room.
Its light was on.
Liu Qianxiu had probably taken Qingchan to bed.
The little boy had never fully woken from his afternoon nap.
He had already been half asleep through dinner.
Afterward, he had sat in the main hall attempting to meditate, one small hand propping up his cheek.
He had lasted only a short while before collapsing over the table.
Liu Qianxiu had carried him to the side room.
Once Qingchan was sound asleep, Liu Qianxiu returned to the main hall.
When he had left, only the three divine statues had occupied the room.
Now there was a woman there too.
Lamplight fell over the statues like ice.
Severe.
Fierce.
The same light fell over Mu Wan like fire.
Bright.
Vivid.
Alive.
She sat almost like a snake.
She never sat properly at Liu Qianxiu’s apartment.
Apparently, entering the main hall of a Daoist temple had done nothing to improve her posture.
Her body remained soft and languid.
Both arms rested over the low table.
Her torso curved slightly to one side.
Her pointed chin tilted upward.
Dark hair surrounded her small face, making her skin appear even paler.
Night had swallowed the mountain.
It seemed as though this one main hall held the only light left in the world.
Beneath the divine statues, Mu Wan looked like a young spirit that had only just taken human form.
Innocent.
Unaware of the offense of curling herself beneath the gods with such careless ease.
When she saw Liu Qianxiu, her red lips curved.
Her eyes brightened.
“Liu Qianxiu.”
Her voice spread through the darkness.
Low.
Languid.
Carrying something difficult to name.
After calling him, she rested her chin on the back of one hand.
Then she smiled at him.
— To be continued in Part 2 —
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