Chapter 83: Chao Chao Questions the Gods
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation.
Upon the tallest celestial platform in the Capital City, so high that it seemed to touch the stars above, the Emperor and his court stood solemnly.
“We beseech the gods to protect the people,” they chanted.
“We implore the gods to descend upon Northern Zhao…”
The Emperor led his ministers, kneeling before the divine platform, fervently praying for divine descent.
Every Lantern Festival was also the Festival of Worship. For all of Northern Zhao, this day bore greater importance than the New Year—a sacred day of utmost reverence.
“Will the gods descend this year?” someone murmured.
This so-called descent of the gods was merely a fleeting shadow, separated by tens of thousands of miles and countless celestial barriers. Yet, the idea of a divine descent was tantalizing.
A little prince leaned close to his mother, whispering curiously, “Why do we worship the Supreme Deity on the Lantern Festival? Is it His birthday?”
A bald little monk replied before the consort could answer, “No, it’s not.”
He continued with quiet clarity, “It’s because every time He has descended, it’s been on this day.”
“The legends say He has descended six times in total, and each instance was on the Lantern Festival. That’s why mortals chose this day to honor Him, hoping for divine favor.”
The small monk stood beside Consort Xian, her hand tightly clutching his. This little monk was none other than the Fourth Prince.
Born under inauspicious signs, he had been sent to the National Temple to live. Each year, Consort Xian fell ill, heartbroken by her separation from him.
The New Year, a time of familial reunion, was her annual torment. While others celebrated, she endured the anguish of being apart from her child, plagued by fears for Northern Zhao’s fortune, its people, and the possibility of her son being sacrificed to avert disaster.
This year, however, her face bore a smile. Tomorrow, the fifteenth, her son would return to the temple.
Nearby, the usually proud Imperial Consort Xian discreetly wiped away a tear.
“Mother, are you cold?” the little monk asked, his thin frame a testament to the hardships of temple life, despite the care of attendants.
“Mother is not cold. Are you cold, my son?” she replied, suppressing her sorrow and forcing a smile.
The Fourth Prince shook his head, his small bald head looking endearingly round. Consort Xian’s heart ached. How she wished the gods would descend and save her child. She didn’t pray for wealth or power for him, nor for him to ascend to the throne. She only wished for him to stay by her side, safe and sound.
Consort Xian, daughter of the Protectorate Duke, had entered the palace with great fanfare. Many had speculated that if she bore a son, she might threaten the Empress’s position. Her arrogance in those early days often led to competition with the Empress. But…
In the years since the Fourth Prince’s birth, she had turned to devout worship and grown calm in her demeanor.
“Fourth Brother, you know so much,” said a younger prince, gazing at him with admiration.
The Fourth Prince bit his lip, shyly responding, “There’s a library at the National Temple. I often read there.”
Though he was envied, he envied his siblings too—for they could stay close to their parents.
“The worship begins now,” someone announced.
The children all stood obediently by their mothers, not daring to move or speak. The Emperor placed great importance on the divine descent; none dared to disrupt the ceremony.
Dressed in golden robes, the Emperor held incense alongside the Little Crown Prince, both bowing reverently as they recited prayers to the heavens, pleading for the gods to descend.
When the Emperor looked skyward, however, there was no response from above. He sighed softly, disappointment evident.
“The last divine descent was on the eighth day of the eleventh month, thirty-four years ago,” said Xu Yi Ting, gazing at the sky with a solemn expression.
“Minister Xu, your memory is impressive. Indeed, it was thirty-four years ago.”
On that day, a celestial shadow appeared, and countless mortals bowed in worship. Yet, though the divine descent occurred, no one’s wish was granted. The enormous figure watched briefly before vanishing into the heavens. It was the only exception in history.
Xu Yi Ting’s gaze flickered, and he lowered his head, silent.
Tonight, the people prayed with fervent hope, but the gods remained silent. A collective sigh echoed among the crowd.
As the chill of night deepened, Lu Chao Chao, half-asleep, stirred from her hiding spot. Rubbing her eyes, she peered into the darkness, barely able to see.
[Oh, right. I’m under the altar, waiting to steal the roast chicken.]
Sniffing the air, she detected the mouthwatering aroma. [Have they finished worshipping yet?]
Suddenly, a voice as ethereal as the void whispered near her ear. It seemed to traverse the heavens and yet felt so close. It was vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Her thoughts grew hazy, as though a part of her memory had been pulled away.
She patted her head, trying to clear her mind as the voice grew louder.
Outside, a commotion erupted.
“It’s the gods! The gods have descended!”
“Heavens! It’s been over thirty years since the last descent, and it’s happening again!”
The Emperor, about to leave the celestial platform, froze and looked up. A shadow appeared in the sky, distant yet majestic, its features obscured. From the heavens, the figure gazed down upon the world. One glance was enough to make mortals avert their eyes in awe.
“Return to the platform!” the Emperor commanded, leading his court back.
His heart raced. The gods had responded. But for whom had they descended? Who was the chosen one?
“Quickly, send men to search. Find the one whose prayers have been answered and bring them here. Spare no cost to ensure they intercede for Northern Zhao. Titles, wealth—anything can be theirs,” he declared urgently.
The gods’ voice resonated: “What do you desire?”
“What do they want?” murmured the Crown Prince. “Immortality? Power? Wealth? Perhaps… a kingdom?”
The founding emperor of neighboring Western Yue had made such a wish during a divine descent, and it had come true.
Hearts pounded as the gods repeated: “What do you desire?”
This was the moment of divine inquiry. The gods were ready to bestow their blessings.
Under the altar, Lu Chao Chao found it unbearably noisy. No matter how she covered her ears, she couldn’t block out the words: “What do you desire?”
“I can grant you anything in this world—immortality, fame, fortune,” the voice promised, distant yet resonant.
Chao Chao’s eyes sparkled. She crawled out from under the altar. The courtyard was deserted; everyone had gone to see the descent.
Pointing at the roast chicken on the altar, she asked seriously, “Can you give me that chicken? So I can eat it?”
The gods fell silent.
Maaan, what a cliffhanger
Over immortality and wealth, can I have your chicken please????