Tudi’s goddess wrote this? Why did we have the same handwriting?

Next to the poem was a painting. The chiseled face, firm eyes; it was my god.

My trembling hand knocked over the brush canister. Out of the millions of gods in Shenjie, why did this goddess choose to draw him?

I closed my eyes, but I could see this faceless goddess grinding ink and painting the first strokes of him. Perhaps he was there, smiling as she drew him.

I dipped my fingers into the brush rinser and splashed some water on my face. I liked the god, I realized, and I was jealous.

DONG!

The round ended amidst my daydreaming. Our papers soared into air. I watched in horror as the scroll, not my ink-splattered paper, flew towards the judges.

“How did you do?” Shangtian asked as the separation between us lowered.

I was too ashamed to tell her what happened, but she gathered the worst from my face.

“I’m sure you didn’t fail,” Shangtian comforted.

The judges took eons to read every poem. Finally, the thin announcer stood up with a paper in his hand. Then, he read aloud the winning poem.

“A daring satire of greed!”

“A clever transition from futility of gains to heartbreaking romance!”

“Great job by this Ziyan candidate!”

My poem… the unknown goddess’s poem… won.

Out of the corner of my eye, but I could see Shangtian staring at me.

“I need to... sorry.”

With that, I rushed off the stage. I made my way to the nearest garden. The sight of flowers always soothed me. I sank onto a rock behind a tangle of Gardenias and closed my eyes.

Footsteps sounded next to me.

“You didn’t write that poem,” Sylvestris’s voice hissed.

I didn’t bother to lift my head from my knees.

“Whose poem did you copy?” She pressed. “You can fool judges, but you can’t fool me. When I can prove that you cheated, you will be kicked out of Shenjie for good.”

I squared my shoulders to face her. There was an expression of glee on her face.

“Kicking me out won’t help your score,” I said. “Did your father forget to pay off the judges?”

“How dare you besmirch the name of my father? You are as horrid as… as… as those Mojie demons!”

I burst out laughing at the fact that “Mojie demons” was the worst insult that Sylvestris could muster.

“I’d rather deal with them than you,” I replied. “And don’t flaunt your father at me. I know he was just a tortoise yao at one point.”

Sylvestris’s eyes reddened, and her mouth contorted. I prepared to duck in case she spat at me, but instead, she let out a wail. As Sylvestris stormed off, I realized her bad manners were simply a reflection of some deeper issues.

I sighed. We all had our problems.

Something red flashed behind a rock formation.

Red flowers were rare in Shenjie, where flowers of pastels were preferred.

“Must be a trick of the light,” I thought.

“You missed the awarding session of Prosody!” The Goddess of Propriety hissed when I returned. The ceremony already progressed to the subject of Music. “Earlier, I sent the top ten candidates to meet her majesty to mask your absence.”

She pushed me to the back of the queue, where candidates stood ready to perform. I was thankful that Shangtian was at the front. I was sure she guessed what happened, and I didn’t know how to face her.

A small disturbance in the deities above me caught my attention. Someone seemed to be making way to the front. Although most gods were tipsy and irritable by now, those in the way moved aside for him. The bright glare of the sunlight blurred his face, but his strong figure alone was enough to attract attention.

I squinted to make out his face, and then my eyes locked onto those of Boluan.

The cacophony of the competition faded away. The curious thudding of my heart roared in my ears. The Music round began, but I only dimly heard the first candidate playing the dizi.

He stood at the edge of the stadium. A breeze stirred his robes as well as my emotions. In the sunlight, he looked as magnificent as when I first saw him.

Was he staring at me? My heart hammered wildly.

The series of music eventually stopped. I came out of my thoughts with a start. I casted a quick glance around. The candidate ahead of me had just played his final note. It was now my turn.

I mumbled for a zither, and one materialized in front of me. Zither was what I played to herd the animals in the village. Although they didn’t care what was played, I learned several tunes to amuse myself.

Slowly, I began plucking. As my fingers danced on the strings, I peeked in Boluan’s direction again, but he was no longer there.

My heart skipped, and I heard a loud snap.

The audience gasped. I looked down at my zither in horror. I snapped the string!

“That is unfortunate,” the Goddess of Music lamented. “A decent performance ended by an elementary error.” She looked truly sorry.

A fairy led me off the stage. My heart thumped in my chest. I found my god, and I knew his name. But failing in any round disqualified one from getting a shifu. How was I going to speak to Boluan about the villagers? And… I bit down on my lip. Was I going to be able to stay in Shenjie?

When the last candidate competed in music, the Goddess of Music announced Barette as the winner. Shangtian made the top ten, while I received no points for the round as expected. Shangtian seemed to feel sorry for me, but I deserved it. The villagers would have said it was karma for cheating earlier.

Other subjects played out on stage. When the last subject finished, we were all ushered onto the stage again. Ninety-nine birds of different shapes and sizes flew in a ring. Their songs joined to form a chorus of melody. When they flew away, Goddess of Propriety stood up and hovered toward the center of the stage. All eyes followed her, and she seemed to enjoy the attention immensely.

She prolonged the suspense by honoring the previous winners of the championship and the feats that they accomplished since. She explained the benefits and rewards that the highest scoring candidate would receive. When even the most polite deities could not hide their yawns, Goddess of Propriety cleared her throat.

Slowly, she announced, “The highest-scoring candidate of this year’s Baishi Ceremony is Barette.”

Thundering applause erupted. Our classmates rushed to congratulate her. I watched as Barette burst into a bright smile. I tried to be happy for her, but doubts about my own fate twisted my insides.

Goddess of Propriety began her speech.

“As the champion, you should always dedicate yourself to the welfare of beings, protect the lives of the world, uphold justice in face of injustice, uphold fairness in face of unfairness. Evil is everywhere, lurking in shadows, flaunting in the open… (Was it my imagination or did she gaze toward Chila when saying this?)… It taunts us, seeks us, lures us, instigates us, but as long as you are firm in your beliefs of good, you will succeed.”

Barette nodded eagerly.

“Wait,” a familiar sweet voice said.

The crowd fell silent instantly (except for a drunk goddess whose request for more wine echoed in the silence).

Chila rose from her special lounge chair. Her wide sleeves billowed behind her.

“I object,” Chila said.

I saw Barette’s face drain of color. There was a stunned silence, and then an angry buzzing rose from the Shenjie seats.

“This is not Mojie,” someone grumbled in the crowd.

“I knew they came to make trouble!” Someone else said.

But despite the condemnations, no one stood out to make their opinions known clearly.

Chila smiled mockingly.

“According to a Shenjie Code 134, the heads of Shenjie, Haijie, Yodu, and Mojie must agree on a matter if one raises an objection.”

“Your memory is better than mine,” Emperor Jadeite said pleasantly. “Chila, what is your objection?”

“Goddess of Music!” Chila called out.

The Goddess of Music rose and curtsied.

“Music should evoke emotions, should it not?” Chila demanded.

The Goddess of Music pondered for a moment, but nodded.

“Nothing is more passionate than a broken string reverberating like a forelorn heart,” Chila said in a loud clear voice. “For this reason I believe the candidate who broke her string during her passionate rendition should receive full marks.”

I stood there. Murmurs rang through the crowd. Those who knew me turned in my direction, slack-jawed. In the stadium, deities put their heads together. I saw one god fall over from craning his neck so hard to find me.

Jadeite stroked his beard. “King Yan and King Long, do you any objections?”

The heads of Yodu and Haijie glanced at Emperor Jadeite. They glanced at Chila. They glanced at each other. Then they shook their heads.

Emperor Jadeite looked at me. After a long pause, he said, “Recalculate the results.”

“But your majesty—”

“Recalculate the results,” Emperor Jadeite repeated firmly, silencing all protests.

Goddess of Propriety scurried into view again. Her fingers moved rapidly down the columns of the abacus. When the beads stopped moving, she first looked at Emperor Jadeite, then at Chila, and then… at me.

“The new winner is… Ziyan!”

There was no applause for me. Among the sea of faces, I found Shangtian’s. She looked at me and then at Barette.

Barette! My heart sank at the sight of Barette. She wore a polite smile, but it wasn’t hard to see her disappointment. I shouldn’t have won. I didn’t even want to win. I just wanted Boluan.

“Make way, make way!” Goddess of Propriety said. I felt her hand on my shoulder. She pushed me through the crowd to the podium where Barette had stood. I tried to make eye contact with Barette, but she had already stepped down without looking at me.

Goddess of Propriety hoisted me onto the tall podium. As I spun into the air, I looked at the gods and goddesses, the sea of faces, some smiling, some hesitant. It felt like a dream.

The podium lifted me higher and higher. I could now see the gods clearly, and they could see me.

On the ground, Goddess of Propriety was announcing, “Ziyan. Female. Zodiac is horse. Reason for deification: 1) saving mortals and 2) private.”

I blushed furiously as Goddess of Propriety read the information card that I had absentmindedly written. If I had known she was going to read it aloud, I would’ve wrote something better-sounding.

“…Ziyan received top marks in the area of Gastronomy, Prosody, and Music.”

The rotating podium made me dizzier and dizzier. I searched intently for Boluan, but there were too many deities. Name plates and descriptions popped up in front of the gods. Some names I recognized from legends, others I had never heard of. Every god I looked at beamed back at me expectantly.

“Gods and goddesses, the combined score for Ziyan is 29.4,” Goddess of Propriety said nervously. Her floral seat hovered about, releasing bursts of air that reminded me of farts. “You must offer her at least 29.4 mililiters of chi. He or she who offers the most shall take Ziyan as a disciple.”

“No!” I exclaimed. But my voice was drowned out by the ripple of excited murmuring in the stadium. A goddess with wavy hair called, “I’ll give you thirty milliliters of chi to be my disciple.”

It was immediately followed by higher offers.

I began to sweat. Could Boluan spare more chi than that? Was he going to make me an offer? Our eyes had met! He knew I was here! How I wish I wasn’t the winner!

“Thirty one milliliters of chi!”

“Thirty one and a half milliliters of chi!”

Excitement seemed to surge as the amount increased. I was now breathless with anxiety. Where was he?

Then an authoritative voice called, “Thirty five mililiters of chi for Ziyan.”

It was Queen Vesper.

No! I mouthed. Queen Vesper was supposed to be Barette and Shangtian’s shifu, not mine! I looked towards them, but they were now tiny dots on the ground.

To my horror, no offers followed Queen Vesper’s. Queen Vesper was smiling at me warmly.

“Fifty.”

Another voice echoed. Heads turned towards it. The familiar figure advanced towards me. My heart pounded with each step he took. Finally he stopped in front of me.

“Boluan,” I whispered.

Something flickered in his eyes. He turned to a seemingly frozen Goddess of Propriety.

“Fifty centiliters of chi.”

His words stunned the crowd into silence. Goddess of Propriety promptly unfroze herself.

“Your… your highness… her ma… majesty wants Ziyan,” she stuttered.

Boluan simply looked at her.

Goddess of Propriety opened and closed her mouth several times. Finally she flew over to Queen Vesper and whispered something in her ear.

I watched as Queen Vesper’s already thin lips press even thinner.

“Seventy-five centiliters of chi!” She said through gritted teeth.

“One liter,” Boluan said firmly.

I saw cups of wine stop in mid-air and fans cover open mouths. I saw the wide eyes on the Shenjie gods, the envy of the candidates, the surprise on the faces of Chila and her followers. A strange sensation rose in my chest, coursed through my veins, throbbed in my heart.

“Everyone is watching… the Mojie dieties are rubbernecking… etiquette,” Goddess of Propriety stammered. She was sweating as though she had plowed a field.

Boluan did not reply, and neither did Empress Vesper.

“This won’t do,” Emperor Jadeite smiled but said firmly. “Tell me, child. Who do you want as your shifu?”

All eyes turned to me.

“Boluan,” I said softly but clearly.

An awkward hush fell. The deities exchanged looks with one another.

“There… there is no god by this name,” Goddess of Propriety said.

“Wh--what?” It was my turn to stutter. I stared at Boluan. Had I read his name wrong?

Goddess of Propriety leaned over.

“Ziyan. I know this is all very exciting for you. Why don’t you just—”

“Boluan is my nickname,” the god said.

He was watching me keenly. Slowly, he said, “Only those closest to me know it. My given name is Huayu.”

Huayu… his highness… the warrior. Everything made sense. To think that I had been looking for the most gossiped about god in Shenjie. Then all the clues fell into place. His looks, his ability, his grace… of course he couldn’t be just any god.

His eyes fell on me again, as if searching for something.

“It’s me,” I mouthed, hoping that he would remember our encounter.

Our fingers brushed when he gestured for me a rise. A shiver passed through me. Something flickered in the depths of his eyes.

“I accept you as my disciple.”