I continued to hoodwink the venerable monk. "Master," I said, "shall I tell you a story?"
The old monk replied, "This poor monk is all ears."
"Once," I began, "a monk passing through a mountain saw an eagle catch a rabbit. Feeling pity for the rabbit, the monk intervened and saved it. The rabbit quickly scampered away, but the eagle said, 'Monk, you have taken away my food. How am I to survive?' The monk thought about it and realized it was true—nature is a cycle of survival. By saving the prey, he had deprived the predator of life and burdened himself with karma. So, the monk carved a piece of flesh from his own body and tossed it to the eagle, saying, 'I know you are a predator; I repay you with my own flesh. Now, our karmic debt is settled.' Master, what do you think of this story?"
The old monk fell silent—terribly, unnervingly silent. I added, "Master, you often say that a man of the cloth never utters a lie. Have you ever heard of a 'closing vow'?"
The monk spoke up suddenly, "This poor monk is all ears. What is a closing vow?"
"You start the month with the first," I declared, "and I shall finish it with the fifteenth. A drop of kindness shall be repaid with a gushing spring, but a single sword-wound shall never be forgotten for eternity."
With that, I fell silent. I saw cold sweat bead across the old monk's forehead. I knew I had successfully intimidated him.
However, the First Prince down below, watching me chatter away with the monk, grew impatient. He shouted, "Eighteenth Brother, how much longer are you going to stall?"
"The time has not yet come," I replied.
"You are clearly just buying time," he sneered. "Guards! Pile more wood down there! If it doesn't rain today, we shall burn the heavens with a sacrifice!"
I looked at the growing piles of firewood. Damn it, he really meant to burn me to death! I had no choice; if I was going to play the charade, I had to play it to the end. I signaled the monk to light three sticks of incense, and I began to perform my "rain-summoning" ritual.
To make it look authentic, I drew upon every cliché I could remember from my past life and threw them all into my performance.
The crowd watched as I spoke in a hoarse, deep voice: "Before the beginning of heaven and earth, there was the mother of all things. Chaos gave birth to Yin and Yang; the Five Elements evolved the universe." I paused for dramatic effect, then dropped my sword and let the blade slice across my fingertips, staining it with blood. I continued, "With the sword as my brush, with blood as my ink, and with my soul as the guide, I summon the wind, the thunder, and the rain!"
To sound even more imposing, I added, "The wind is the *Fuyao*, rising ninety thousand miles to soar freely through the heavens! The thunder is *Jingzhe*, a single strike that shakes the world and makes all things tremble! The rain is *Shuize*, nourishing all things and sustaining all living beings!"
I was just spouting nonsense to show off, but I had scared the living daylights out of the monk—and, unbeknownst to me, had startled the entire Immortal Realm. Because the wind, rain, thunder, and lightning are fundamental rules of existence, whoever names them must bear immense karmic consequences. Only a fool like me, a newborn calf unafraid of the tiger, would dare attempt it.
As the saying goes, ignorance is bliss. Because of my words, the wind, rain, thunder, and lightning each formed their own domain. The Immortal Realm originally had nine domains; suddenly, there were twelve. The entire realm was in an uproar. Every new domain brings immeasurable heavenly treasures. What puzzled everyone was that these three new domains seemed to have an owner—they were gestating, yet forbidden to outsiders. The major Holy Lands and Kingdoms scrambled to send troops to guard their borders, waiting for their chance.
Meanwhile, three great masters from the Lower Realm had locked onto my presence. They began their calculations, and sure enough, they identified me as the variable. They all rushed toward me, arriving above the Royal City in the blink of an eye. They stared at each other in silence, motionless. Before long, they seemed to reach a silent consensus and simply stayed there, watching me.
Had I known three legendary powerhouses were watching, I wouldn't have been so smug. I had finished my performance, but the sun showed no sign of setting. I grew anxious; if it really didn't rain, I was finished.
The First Prince laughed from below. "Eighteenth Brother, where is your rain?"
"The signal is delayed," I said. "They will receive it in half an hour at most."
"Fine, I'll give you half an hour! If it hasn't rained by then, I'll light the fire and burn you to death!"
I had no choice but to maintain my image of a master. I sat down, placed the sword across my lap, and began to meditate. Since I had committed to the act, I had to look the part. I sat cross-legged for a full half-hour—though the sword was so damn sharp that I shouldn't have balanced it on my thighs. When I tried to stand, I couldn't keep my balance, and my legs trembled. I had to get up; the guy below was actually starting to light the fire!
Desperate, I cried out in my heart, *Ancestors! I am suffering! Stranded in this strange world, with no one to help me and no one to rely on—I am doomed!*
I stood straight and roared to the sky, "Wind, come!" If I was going to die, I might as well do it with dignity. I couldn't disgrace the Descendants of Yan and Huang.
To my surprise, the wind actually came, growing stronger until I couldn't open my eyes. I was ecstatic—it was really going to rain! I continued to show off, roaring, "Clouds, come!" Instantly, thick dark clouds swirled into the sky, blotting out the sun.
The officials below were terrified. *He really is a monster,* they thought.
It seemed I had a talent for being a charlatan. I grew more immersed in my role. I held the sword with both hands and pointed it to the sky. "Thunder, come!" No sooner had I spoken than a deafening crack of thunder shook the heavens. Damn, that was effective!
I paused, looking at the sky—it was time for the rain. I shouted, "Rain, fall, and bring life to all things!" A torrential downpour began immediately, dousing the sparks of the fire. But the wind and rain grew so fierce that my weak body couldn't hold its ground.
Embarrassingly, I was blown right off the altar. I thought, *This is it. Falling from this height, if I don't die, I'll be crippled.* But miraculously, when I hit the ground, I was perfectly fine.
I jumped up and down—truly, not a scratch. I grabbed my sword, ready to leave; the rain had arrived, so my job was done.
My nominal father approached, his expression complex. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but couldn't get the words out.
Eventually, that troublemaker, the First Prince, stepped forward. "Eighteenth Brother, you can keep your clothes, but that sword must stay. It is state property; you cannot just take it."
Honestly, I didn't want to part with the sword—it was sharp, after all. But seeing the situation, I knew I couldn't take it. Still, I refused to lose face. Having already played the mystic, I decided to be vague. "Royal Brother, even if I gave it to you, would you dare take it?"
The First Prince hesitated, intimidated by the way I had summoned the elements. But the sword was clearly valuable. I saw the swordsmith whispering in my father’s ear, and I knew I couldn't keep it. I thought of my mother, who hadn't tasted meat in months.
I bowed to my nominal father. "Father, if you want this sword, it is not impossible."
"What are your terms?" he asked eagerly.
"I want my mother and me to have meat with all three of our daily meals."
I thought it was a simple enough request—in my past life, I never skipped meat—but I had underestimated the world. Meat was incredibly expensive here; even my nominal father only ate it once a day. He hesitated, but eventually agreed. I didn't think my demand was excessive, but the court officials below looked at me as if I were asking for the moon.