Chapter 186: Birthday Celebration

Chapter 186: The Grand Birthday Celebration

Chongqing Prefecture, Beiyu Mountain District.

Rain lingered from midnight into dawn; though its momentum showed signs of abating, it still loitered between heaven and earth, unwilling to depart.

Amidst the misty drizzle, a long dragon formed by believers wound its way up and down along the mountain contours.

The oil-paper umbrellas in their hands were inlaid with colorful light strips, converging like a river of light onto the plaza before the Qixia Group.

Long banners fluttered, colorful flags danced. Flowers bloomed like brocade, fire cooked oil.

The projection devices installed on the palace eaves operated at full power; deities of the Daoist pantheon rose from the ground, displaying their awe-inspiring divine might amidst the wind and rain.

Most striking among them was the colossal projection of the Divine Official suspended before the group's main gate.

Lord Wang Lingguan wore golden armor and a crimson robe, his feet clad in green boots with wind streamers. His left hand formed a spirit seal, his right hand gripped a golden whip. Curly beard, vermilion hair, three divine eyes scrutinizing every believer gathered here.

Upon the altar paved with yellow satin at the very center of the plaza, Daoists in green ritual robes were already warming up the crowd.

Scriptures chanted through speakers carefully hidden in the shadows, ethereal and profound as if descending from the heavens, inspiring reverence in the heart.

The faithful who had set out from their homes in the early hours, trekking on foot from every district of Chongqing Prefecture, upon witnessing this solemn and dignified scene, folded their umbrellas one after another, standing joyfully in the rain.

Today was the birthday of the Venerable Perpetual True Man Liu Zu; this rain was surely the sweet dew sprinkled by the Venerable One, and being drenched in it would surely cure ailments and lubricate their mechanical bodies.

And in positions closer to the altar, spots had long been occupied by believers of greater wealth and more devout faith.

They sat cross-legged on meditation cushions arranged in advance, basking in the envious gazes of those around them while calculating whether the treasure notes they brought were sufficient.

The poor came to watch the Dharma assembly celebrating the True Man's birthday; they came to watch the new product launch by the Qixia Group.

The former was shared joy with the people; the latter was the exclusive privilege of the nobility.

Moreover, such Daoist launches not only offered new product experiences but also pre-sold a portion on-site.

If they managed to snatch them up and flip them on the market, they could make a tidy profit.

Otherwise, they would not have spent a considerable price to buy these cushions beneath them from Qixia Group insiders.

At this moment, whether pilgrims come to worship or second-hand scalpers here for profit, everyone on the plaza was full of zeal, waiting for the Dharma assembly to officially begin.

Amidst pairs of eyes glowing hot with anticipation, a pair of slightly indifferent pupils stood out conspicuously.

Zou Sijiu, wearing a different face, stood at the packed outer edge of the plaza, coldly eyeing the frenzied crowd, his lips curled in mockery, yet a sudden pang of envy rose in his heart.

"If our Yin-Yang School had the Daoist Gate's methods of winning hearts, we wouldn't have been discarded like used tools after the completion of the Huangliang Network."

Words aside, Zou Sijiu knew in his heart that people of his Sequence had always pursued fortune and avoided disaster, adhering to the principle: better the Daoist brother dies than I.

Even when calamity struck, their first reaction wasn't to band together and resist, but to divert the trouble elsewhere.

Otherwise, the split back then wouldn't have been so clean and decisive—those entering the world entered the world, those transcending transcended, each minding their own business.

If not for this, he wouldn't have had to go to such lengths to secure that sliver of Huangliang authority from the Qixia Group.

Just as Zou Sijiu was sighing and lamenting, he suddenly felt something poke his waist, a strange sensation rising in his chest.

"What era is this, too stingy to even spend money to log onto Huangliang? Fine, you like taking advantage? Grandpa Zou will satisfy you today!"

Zou Sijiu flew into a rage, whipping his head around.

He saw a ragged, white-bearded old man standing behind him, head bowed, scolding a child in equally tattered clothes with his eyes.

Whether from his grandfather's scolding or the bitter cold.

The boy's small face was deathly pale, a crystal strand of snot dangling from his nose, wobbling but refusing to fall. He clutched tightly a 'wooden stick' the length of a small forearm.

It appeared this was the thing that had poked Zou Sijiu.

"Sorry, Daoist friend. This little brat is too mischievous; he accidentally poked you."

Seeing Zou Sijiu turn around, the old man hastily cupped his fists in apology.

The instant he saw the faces of the grandfather and grandson, Zou Sijiu had already used the Great Case Divination to cast a hexagram, obtaining the conclusion: 'No Harm'.

Both were the most common impoverished people in Chongqing Prefecture; the young laborers in their family had died early, and the old man, frail with age, couldn't find a company willing to hire him. They survived day to day by scavenging.

Buddhism and Daoism were most popular among this demographic.

Because those who suffered in this life usually pinned their hopes on divine mercy, wishing for a happy next life.

"It's fine, it's fine, a trivial matter. No need for such courtesy, old sir."

Zou Sijiu looked at the 'wooden stick' in the boy's hand, a sudden whim striking him. He bent down and smiled at the child: "Little friend, what do you have there?"

The child tilted up his small face, shouting in a milky voice: "You can't call me little friend! Here you have to call me Daoist friend!"

"You little turtle spawn, don't understand a thing, yet you call Daoist friend!"

The old man feared the child's words would anger Zou Sijiu. He instantly blew his beard and glared, raising his hand to deliver two heavy smacks to his grandson's bottom.

"What did I say wrong? Grandpa, you said it yourself! Everyone here today is a Daoist friend; we are all one family!"

The old man was struck speechless. "I—"

"You're not wrong. We are indeed Daoist friends."

Zou Sijiu burst out laughing, returning the cupped-fist salute: "May I ask, little Daoist friend, what magic treasure is that in your hand?"

Hearing this, the child's face swelled with pride. He held up the 'wooden stick' solemnly: "Replying to the Daoist friend, this is a flying sword! A Daoist flying sword!"

Flying sword!

I got stabbed by a flying sword. Could this be an omen?

The speaker meant nothing; the listener took it to heart.

Zou Sijiu froze on the spot, his expression shifting, a palpitation gripping his heart.

He ignored the old man's puzzled gaze, his right hand rapidly forming calculation seals.

But no matter how Zou Sijiu calculated, even factoring in the variable of the 'boy', the resulting Ziwei Doushu still fell in the Hai Palace, portending that today's actions would proceed smoothly.

"Could it be I'm just paranoid, overthinking things?"

Just as Zou Sijiu wavered in doubt, a hazy mist suddenly rose from the outer edge of the plaza, engulfing the crowd.

Simultaneously, a Daoist in a cyan robe stepped onto the altar, announcing with a solemn face:

"The Jiaqi Year Eleven Celebration of the Birthday of Daoist Ancestor Liu Zu, Venerable Perpetual True Man, and the Qixia Group New Product Launch, now officially begins!"

Gongs and drums resounded, ritual chants lingered.

The sky-covering deity projections lowered their magic instruments one after another, withdrawing their majesty, bowing in unison toward the altar.

On the plaza, the believers, having inhaled the hallucinogenic smoke, already wore expressions of trance.

They immediately fell to their knees en masse, shouting in unison the True Man's holy title.

Zou Sijiu crouched in the crowd, a look of disgust on his face, cursing under his breath.

"Damn it, they have more tricks up their sleeve than me."