Meng Qi: What the heck do you mean by always getting what you ask for?
This supposedly effective Mountain God Temple didn’t look like it at all from the outside.
The outer wall was absurdly low, so much so that any child could easily climb over it.
The plaque at the entrance had been battered by wind and rain, leaving only faint traces of characters, barely recognizable. If it weren’t for the stone-paved road leading to the temple being swept spotlessly clean, without a single weed, Mo Li would have doubted if this place was an abandoned, wild temple.
“We’ve arrived.”
The one leading Mo Li and Meng Qi was the village elder’s grandson, named Dezi. He had worked as an apprentice tailor outside for a few years in his youth, giving him a broader perspective, and he could speak and understand the official dialect.
Meng Qi’s accent was unmistakably from Taijing, and Dezi had seen people speaking like that in Jiangxia County before. Without exception, they were all powerful figures. So, when he realized Meng Qi seemed particularly interested in the Mountain God Temple, he didn’t hesitate to offer to guide him there.
They crossed the lake by boat, as the villagers were busy attending a wedding feast.
The Mountain God Temple stood by the lakeshore, and after docking the boat, Dezi picked up a bundle of dried vegetables and headed towards the temple.
“There’s a threshold, watch your step.”
If Dezi hadn’t reminded them, Mo Li might have missed the threshold entirely.
Because only half of it remained, sunken into the mud and blending in with the same muddy color.
— What kind of Mountain God is this? His situation seems too miserable.
Mo Li was puzzled. It didn’t make sense. Although this fishing village didn’t appear affluent, it was not impoverished either. Each household had at least one or two nice garments for attending the wedding feast. Even in the scorching heat, the village children wore aprons and weren’t running around stark naked, and there were quite a few elderly people in the village.
You can gauge how well people live by observing the old and the young, and by their complexion.
The first skill in medicine is observation, and people who can’t get enough to eat can’t possibly have a healthy complexion.
The village wasn’t poor, and the villagers believed the Mountain God was effective. The temple wasn’t far, so why had it fallen into such disrepair?
Speaking of which, Mr. Qin also stayed in the Mountain God Temple during winter, but there were several Mountain God Temples on Qimao Mountain, each dedicated to a different deity, none of which were particularly popular. Travelers would pay their respects in passing, even though the mountain paths were difficult. None of those temples were as dilapidated as this one!
Dezi clearly knew what Mo Li was wondering about. He rubbed his hands together and sheepishly explained, “Don’t laugh, sir. It’s an old custom in our village. We’re not allowed to repair the Mountain God Temple. If the temple collapses, it means the Mountain God has grown tired of living there, and we’ll just build a new one somewhere else.”
Mo Li: “…”
He had learned something new. He had only ever heard of officials not maintaining their offices, but he had never imagined there were temples that couldn’t be repaired.
“No wonder. I remember there wasn’t a Mountain God Temple here before,” Meng Qi said with his hands behind his back, entering the temple at a leisurely pace.
Since he was here under the pretext of searching for family, no one doubted his words.
Dezi nodded eagerly. “This temple was built ten years ago. Before that, we would only invite the god’s statue for worship, and during festivals, we had to go to the neighboring village or up the mountain to burn incense.”
“Oh? So there are many Mountain God Temples on Feihe Mountain?”
“Of course! There are plenty of them! But none of them have the Mountain God’s favor like ours. The deity surely enjoys living here. My grandfather said that once this temple collapses, we’ll build a new one on the sandbar in the middle of the lake. Everyone’s already started gathering wood and bricks.”
Dezi spoke with enthusiasm, while Meng Qi’s lips twitched slightly, feeling an ominous sense of foreboding.
Back then, he hadn’t heard any tales about the Mountain God Temple being particularly effective, and the legends in the mountain were always the same old stories—foxes, weasels, or cranes transforming into humans, repaying kindness or seeking revenge. The Mountain God typically played the role of arbiter, cleaning up the mess and taking the monsters back, without ever being named.
Meng Qi had suspected whether Feihe Mountain even had a dragon vein, but “effectiveness” had never been part of the story.
When Meng Qi first heard the villagers talk about the Mountain God Temple being especially effective, he almost thought the dragon vein in Feihe Mountain had changed its nature.
“Doctor, something doesn’t feel right.”
“Hmm?”
“…The dragon vein of Feihe Mountain won’t easily reveal itself. There may be people from Ayanpuka in the area.”
The Taoist priest in the Mountain God Temple was confident that an important guest would come from the north. If this wasn’t a case of a blind cat catching a dead mouse, then something suspicious was going on.
“How would Ayanpuka know we would take this route?”
“Feihe Mountain is surrounded by seven waterways, and there is only one path into the mountain that doesn’t require crossing by boat. Especially the vast ten-mile reed marshes by the He River bend, which could easily hide hundreds of people. I suspect it might be a hideout for the Xiliang people. If we value the dragon vein, we’d first explore it ourselves rather than immediately engage with them…”
Meng Qi paused for a moment, then continued in a deep voice, “Of course, there is another possibility—this Mountain God Temple is truly effective and has become famous far and wide. If we were to make inquiries, we’d inevitably come here. In that case, Ayanpuka’s people would just sit in the temple and wait for us.”
As they spoke, they had already entered the temple. A gray-haired, wrinkled Taoist priest appeared from behind.
This Taoist didn’t wear a daoist cap, nor did he carry a horsetail whisk. His robe was covered in stains and dirt. He looked more like a handyman than a proper Taoist priest.
Dezi handed over the dried vegetables he was carrying and greeted him with a smile: “These two elders have come from Jingnan searching for relatives and plan to head into the mountains. They heard that our Mountain God Temple is very effective, so they came to take a look.”
The priest walked with heavy steps, looking frail and sluggish, not at all like someone trained in martial arts.
He squinted his eyes and gruffly said, “What’s there to see in a temple? Sincerity is key. The Mountain God does not bless outsiders.”
Dezi was at a loss for words, feeling embarrassed.
Meng Qi frowned slightly, showing a displeased expression. In a slow, deliberate voice, he said, “There may not be much to see, but there’s nothing here that outsiders shouldn’t witness either. I’ve never heard of a temple where gods or Buddhas wouldn’t allow outsiders to visit.”
The Taoist was startled by the official dialect and reevaluated Meng Qi.
“Fine, look if you must,” the Taoist muttered tersely and turned to enter the side room.
There was an open-air stove there, where the priest had been tending a fire earlier. A pile of miscellaneous items blocked the view, so they hadn’t noticed him upon entering.
Mo Li exchanged a glance with Meng Qi: Could this shabby priest really be one of Ayanpuka’s men? Living in such conditions?
Meng Qi responded with a calm gaze: Otherwise, why would the villagers cook for him? This place isn’t wealthy; at most, they occasionally send some dried vegetables or buns.
“…The main hall contains the statue. Please, this way,” Dezi said, trying to continue hosting, despite the awkwardness.
Mo Li gave him face by following his lead and slowly entering the main hall.
It was far too small and far too simple.
No drapes, no offering tables, just a dirt and clay statue, an incense burner, and two straw prayer mats on the ground.
“What is this supposed to be?”
Meng Qi was also taken aback, probably never having seen such a roughly made statue before.
Or rather, what kind of deity would be worshipped with a half-finished statue?
The nose wasn’t quite a nose, and the eyes weren’t really eyes. Other than the fact that it was vaguely humanoid and seemed to be dressed, even the facial features were indistinct.
“It’s the Mountain God Lord Ze!” Dezi patted his chest and earnestly explained, “The statues in other temples are all wrong. I’ve seen them after leaving the village. Their statues may wear different clothes and hats, but they all have the same face. Whether it’s the City God, the Land God, the God of Wealth, or the Dragon King, they all look identical. Wouldn’t the gods get angry? So, the elders in the village said, a clay figure is good enough. Humans don’t know what the Mountain God looks like, and we shouldn’t. Seeing too much would be disrespectful. If the gods had the same face as others, wouldn’t that be offensive? Who would like to have the same face as another god?”
Meng Qi and Mo Li: “…”
This logic… surprisingly, it makes sense?
But, is it really not because the fishing village is too poor to afford a proper sculptor to paint the statue, so they just made do?
“Ahem, how many incense sticks do you usually burn? And what do people typically pray for that is most effective?” Meng Qi asked slowly.
Dezi scratched his head and candidly replied, “The usual things—good weather, abundant harvests, no floods or droughts, no wild beasts coming down the mountain. Even in the worst times, we can still catch enough fish to fill our bellies, so no one starves.”
Mo Li remained composed, but Meng Qi had already sensed something amiss.
The terrain of Feihe Mountain was excellent, with many waterways. Flooding was virtually impossible unless it rained heavily for ten days and nights straight.
Drought was even less likely. If all of Jingzhou were in a drought, this area would still have plenty of water.
The lake in front of the village was far from stagnant. Two streams fed into it, and Feihe Mountain was abundant with water, fish, and birds. The village was densely populated, so birds rarely came to feed. As long as the villagers didn’t overfish, they could always catch enough to stave off hunger.
Earlier, at the banquet, Meng Qi had carefully observed the dishes. The fish and shrimp were the most common and ordinary types.
They weren’t particularly tasty and were full of bones.
Without heavy oil, salt, and generous seasoning, the earthy fishy smell would be overwhelming, which the wealthy and powerful would find unappetizing.
The villagers didn’t have enough grain, so they boiled what they had in water and ate it. It was better than starving.
Although there were large bowls of fish and shrimp on the table, the villagers only went for the meat. Before Meng Qi left, not a single person touched the fish, indicating they were tired of eating it.
—In summary, the blessings Dezi mentioned were things that would come true without even praying for them.
The land here was difficult to cultivate because the wild grasses grew too thickly. No matter how much they pulled weeds, dug deep, or even set fire to burn the roots, the weeds were impossible to eradicate. As a result, crops struggled to grow. They could only grow vegetables and raise a few chickens, ducks, or geese. Even pigs were scarce, so fishing was their main livelihood.
“Is that all?” Meng Qi pressed further.
“Yes, what else?” Dezi looked confused.
Meng Qi couldn’t tell if this boy was genuinely naive or just playing dumb. Earlier, he had seemed so sharp and observant, like someone with experience.
“Do people pray for wealth, health, or children? Are those prayers answered?” Mo Li chimed in, starting to piece things together.
After all, having a son or daughter was up to fate, and becoming wealthy was even less guaranteed. Could a temple really be called ‘effective’ if it couldn’t fulfill those kinds of prayers?
Or was it the same old idea that as long as you’re sincere, your wishes will be granted? Does that mean anyone who doesn’t get rich simply wasn’t sincere enough?
If that were true, wouldn’t the entire village be considered insincere toward the gods?
Mo Li didn’t think that was the case.
Sure enough, Dezi scratched his head and said, “We don’t pray for those things. The Mountain God doesn’t handle that stuff.”
Mo Li: “…”
Dezi confidently explained, “The elders in our village say that if you want children, you should pray to the Child-Giving Guanyin. For wealth, go to the God of Wealth. To prevent fires, we pray to the Kitchen God. As for peace and prosperity, every family has their own way of handling it. The Mountain God Lord Ze is the god of this mountain and water. He doesn’t meddle in trivial human matters. People elsewhere are too greedy, praying for everything under the sun. That’s why their Mountain God Temples don’t work. The heavenly gods each have their own duties, just like how you ask people for help in daily life. You have to ask the right person for the right thing. Otherwise, what, is the Mountain God supposed to go beg other gods to take care of us? That’s just not how it works. It’s not like that anywhere!”
Meng Qi: “…”
Mo Li couldn’t hold back his laughter this time.
The clear sound of laughter didn’t belong to any elder, and it startled Dezi, who quickly turned around.
“Who’s there?”
“What’s the matter?” Meng Qi asked, covering for him.
Mo Li quickly stopped laughing, pretending not to know anything.
“I thought I heard someone laughing,” Dezi said in confusion, then clapped his hands, suddenly excited. “It must be the Mountain God! He heard what I said and was happy! I’ll go ask the Taoist priest for some incense and make an offering.”
Mo Li, who had just laughed but wasn’t sure if he counted as the Mountain God: “…”
Not the Mountain God of Feihe Mountain, at least. Mo Li wiped away the awkwardness in his heart and turned to look at Meng Qi.
The two exchanged glances for a while before Mo Li finally spoke: “What do you think, Brother Meng?”
“I think I’d like to meet the ‘elder’ he mentioned in the village.”
Meng Qi thought to himself, if this person wasn’t a hidden talent, then they were certainly involved with the dragon vein, or at the very least, they should know about it.
Author’s Note:
In other stories, the protagonist can talk circles around the supporting characters, leaving them confused and disoriented.
But in this story, the side characters or villains have theories that leave the protagonist questioning their own worldview, or rather, their understanding of dragon veins.
Sand Rat: Is that really the case?
Mo Li: It sounds so logical, I don’t even know how to refute it!
