Heaven grew still, yet the mortal world turned.
Ancient vows stirred beneath forgotten skies.
The appointed hour drew nearer with every passing age,
And those who carried the Mandate descended once more.
The Command from Heaven The grand turbulence of the previous era had passed, yet the mortal realm was not the only place where ancient vows were unfolding.
Long before the final darkness descended upon the human world, two ancient destinies received a command unlike any other.
They were to descend first.
They were to observe the mortal realm.
And they were to fulfill the Heavenly Mandate.
Within the Dragon Flower Palace, the Holy Lord sat beneath the vast radiance of Heaven. The Jade Emperor and the Heavenly Buddha stood before Him. Beyond the palace, celestial rivers flowed through distant dimensions, carrying the light of innumerable worlds.
For a long moment, none of them spoke.
At last, the Holy Lord looked toward the mortal realm.
“There are still a thousand years before the appointed time.”
The Jade Emperor lowered his gaze. The Heavenly Buddha folded his palms.
Both understood that those words carried a weight far beyond their simple meaning. The mortal realm had not yet reached the moment for which countless beings had waited. There was still work to be done.
The Holy Lord continued:
“You should descend to the human world.”
The Jade Emperor and the Heavenly Buddha bowed.
“We shall obey.”
But before they could depart, the Holy Lord raised His hand.
“Leave Guan and Zhang.”
The two celestial generals stepped forward. Their armor gleamed beneath the heavenly light. They bowed together.
“Your command?”
“You will descend first,” the Holy Lord said. “Observe the mortal realm. See how humanity lives. See how virtue and corruption unfold beneath the changing dynasties. And fulfill the Heavenly Mandate.”
The two generals exchanged a glance. They did not ask what the Mandate contained. Some heavenly secrets were not meant to be spoken before their appointed time.
They simply bowed.
“We understand.”
The Holy Lord looked toward the distant mortal realm. His gaze seemed to pass through countless layers of Heaven and Earth.
“The world below is entering a long age of change.” His voice was calm. “Remember what you see.”
Guan and Zhang bowed once more. Then they turned. Their journey had begun.
The Descent into the Mortal Realm
The descent of a True God into the human world was not like the fall of an ordinary being. No thunder announced it. No celestial army accompanied them.
Two streams of light crossed the heavens and gradually concealed their divine radiance. When they emerged again, they had taken on mortal forms.
One became a Buddhist monk. The other became a Daoist.
Their heavenly armor was gone. Their divine presence was hidden. To ordinary eyes, they were merely two wandering cultivators traveling through a troubled age.
The world they entered was far from peaceful. The great Tang dynasty had passed. The Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms had begun.
Rulers changed. Armies marched. Cities burned. The boundaries of kingdoms shifted like sand beneath the wind.
The two True Ones traveled through the Eastern lands, then crossed toward the Western regions. They visited villages and cities. They entered temples. They crossed battlefields after the armies had departed.
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They saw wealthy families preserving their fortunes while common people struggled through famine. They saw rulers who sought power and officials who sold justice.
But they also saw other things:
❖ A son carrying his aged father through the rain;
❖ A mother dividing the last bowl of rice among her children;
❖ A stranger giving shelter to someone who had lost his home;
❖ A monk refusing wealth;
❖ A soldier lowering his weapon rather than killing an innocent man;
❖ A poor farmer sharing his harvest with a neighbor whose field had failed.
Good and evil existed side by side. Righteousness and corruption appeared in every kingdom.
The two True Ones watched quietly. They did not interfere. They remembered—every story, every choice, every thought, every act of kindness, every betrayal.
The mortal realm was writing its own history. And somewhere beyond the visible world, Heaven was recording it all.
The Journey to the South Sea
One day, the two True Ones traveled upon the clouds toward the South Sea. Below them, the ocean stretched endlessly beneath the morning light. White waves rolled toward the horizon. The mountains stood far in the distance.
The Daoist True One gazed downward.
“How fleeting the mortal world is.”
The Buddhist True One smiled faintly.
“Dynasties rise and fall. Human lives come and go. Yet what Heaven has arranged does not disappear.”
They continued onward.
Suddenly, a strange white vapor rose from the sea. It drifted upward, slowly at first, then gathered into the clouds.
The two True Ones stopped.
From somewhere below came a clear, sorrowful song. Its voice seemed neither human nor beast. It carried the loneliness of something that had waited for a very long time.
The song echoed across the mountain:
A stone upon the mountain sings to the sea,
A stone below bears sorrow silently.
Once it burned itself; today it sighs,
One forgotten thought still binds the heart.
The two True Ones looked at each other. The Buddhist True One smiled. They had found what they were meant to find.
Without another word, they descended through the white mist.
The Strange Grass
The mist parted. A lonely mountain appeared beneath them.
There was no village nearby. No temple. No traveler. Only ancient rocks and strange vegetation growing between the cliffs.
The song had come from somewhere among the grass.
The Daoist True One stepped forward.
Then—a violent wind swept across the mountain. The trees bent. The clouds darkened. The strange grass trembled.
The Daoist True One raised his hand.
“Nefarious spirit,” he said sternly. “Your soul has lingered here for a thousand years. Are you still unwilling to transform?”
The wind stopped. A strange silence fell over the mountain.
Then the darkness gathered before them. It slowly condensed into the form of a black-robed child. The child looked no more than several years old. He immediately fell to his knees.
“Please forgive me!”
The Buddhist True One looked at him. The child trembled.
“My name is Shiji Nhi.” He lowered his head. “My master is Shiji Niangniang.”
The two True Ones became silent. The child's voice grew quieter.
“During the conflict between Yin and Zhou, my master's cultivation was destroyed by Taiyi Zhenren's Fire Dragon Cover. Her soul was shattered. She fell here.”
For a moment, the mountain was completely still. The child continued:
“My senior brother and I buried what remained of her body. We guarded her here. We waited.”
The Buddhist True One looked toward the strange grass covering the mountain.
“How long?”
The child raised his eyes.
“Many years.” His voice was filled with sorrow. “More than I can remember.”
The Ancient Promise
The child told them everything.
After Shiji Niangniang's soul had been destroyed, he and his senior brother had remained beside her. They had wept. They had prayed. Their devotion eventually moved Nüwa.
She descended personally and gave them an instruction: Three times each day, they were to water the stone body with the essence of earthly herbs and spiritual waters. They were not to leave. They were not to abandon their master.
After one hundred years, moss would begin to grow upon the stone. From that moss, strange grass would emerge. And after a very long passage of time, someone would come—someone who could help restore what had been lost.
The child had remembered every word. So had his senior brother. They had guarded the mountain year after year, century after century.
Until recently, something had changed. The stone had begun to breathe. A faint rhythm had emerged from within it. Then came the song.
The child lowered his head.
“We knew our benefactor was coming.”
The two True Ones looked toward the mountain. The strange grass moved gently in the wind. Beneath it lay a gigantic stone. Its surface was almost completely covered. Yet from somewhere deep within came a faint, living presence.
The Buddhist True One sighed.
“One thought can change an entire lifetime.”
The Daoist True One nodded.
“Your master once stood at a very high realm.” He looked at the stone. “But one wrong thought brought her here.” His voice softened. “Evil cannot be carried forever. If she is given another chance, she must abandon the old path and return to goodness.”
The child listened carefully. Then he bowed.
“We understand.”
At that moment, footsteps sounded from the mountain path. The senior brother had returned. A large water gourd hung from his shoulder. Seeing the two strangers standing beside the stone, he immediately shouted:
“Who dares touch my master?”
He rushed forward. But before he could reach them, the younger child quickly stepped between them.
“Senior Brother! They are True Ones!”
The older child froze. He stared at Guan and Zhang. Then his expression changed. He immediately placed the gourd on the ground and knelt.
“Please forgive my disrespect.”
Guan raised his hand. “There is no need.”
Zhang looked toward the stone. “Your master has waited long enough.”
The two children exchanged glances. Something in the air had changed. The ancient promise had finally begun to move. And neither child yet understood how far that promise would reach.
Far above the mountain, beyond the mortal clouds, a faint golden light appeared. It lasted only for a moment, then it vanished.
The two True Ones looked upward. Neither spoke. They both understood.
The Heavenly Mandate had not merely sent them to observe the mortal world. It had brought them here for a reason—a reason that had been waiting for a thousand years.
And the ancient stone beneath their feet was about to remember.