I walked home alone, and as I approached, I saw my mother waiting for me right by the doorway. A sudden pang of sorrow tightened my chest. It is truly said that a parent's heart is filled with boundless worry for their child. Only this sweet, innocent soul was genuinely anxious for me.
I immediately broke into a jog and ran over, throwing my arms around her. Ever since I learned to walk on my own, I had never let her hug me like this. But today's events had genuinely terrified me. Seeing my mother waiting here, the sudden release of tension swept away all my usual reservations, and I flung myself straight into her embrace.
Seeing that I had returned safely, my mother showered me with questions.
I thought about it for a moment. Some things simply could not be kept hidden forever. Ever since this sweet mother of mine started learning to read, she didn't seem quite as gullible anymore; she was getting harder to fool.
So I decided to press on with my tall tales anyway. "Mom," I said, "do you believe in Immortals?"
My sweet mother immediately replied, "I do, I do."
She said that when she was a little girl, her own mother used to pray to Immortals all the time.
"Mom," I said, "from now on you don't need to pray to any Immortals. Your son right here—I am an Immortal reincarnated."
My mother looked at me with a bewildered stare.
"Son," she said, "don't pull my leg."
"Mom, I'm really not lying to you," I said. "I truly am an Immortal. It's just that I ran into a bit of trouble; while I was fighting other Immortals, I got knocked all the way over here."
Naturally, I couldn't tell her that I had crossed over by committing suicide during a war—how embarrassing would that be? So I kept weaving my story. "Your son here is exceptionally powerful. I took on dozens of Immortals all by myself. None of them could beat me, but those shameless cowards launched a sneak attack and banished me to this place. That's why I had to be reincarnated right here with you."
Hearing this, those two little eyes of my mother's began to glow with a fierce intensity. Anyone who didn't know better would have thought she was a vixen spirit.
Good grief, I was actually watching her eyes light up.
She immediately crept up to my side with a mysterious air and whispered, "Son, are you really an Immortal? Cross your heart?"
"Mom, let me tell you, you mustn't go telling anyone else. That writing I taught you? It wasn't taught by any ordinary tutor. That is Immortal Script. Don't go teaching it to other people when you have free time. And those songs I wrote for you—weren't they exceptionally nice to listen to?"
She nodded repeatedly. "Mm-hmm, mm-hmm. Have you ever heard songs that sound this wonderful before?"
She said that even back when she used to work as a maid over at the Royal Palace, she had never heard such lovely melodies.
"Well, of course," I said. "These are all sung by Immortals, and those dances are performed by Immortal maidens. How could they not be amazing?"
Suddenly, I caught a glimpse of something in my mother that I had never seen before: a sense of superiority.
I cleared my throat and continued, "Mom, I'm tired today. Tomorrow I'll keep teaching you some songs that only Immortals sing, alright?"
She nodded instantly. "Alright, alright, alright! You have to teach me tomorrow morning, okay?"
"Okay, okay," I said. I really was exhausted; today had been far too nerve-wracking. I wolfed down a bit of corn and promptly fell fast asleep.
Waking up early the next morning, I saw my table piled high with meat, which reminded me of how I had traded my sword for meat yesterday.
My mother was at a loss as to what to do with so much meat, and she asked me, "Son, why on earth did someone send us so much meat?"
"Mom," I replied, "yesterday your son went out to pray for rain, so today they're rewarding us with good food."
At that, she walked over to my side and asked in a low voice, "Son, aren't you an Immortal? If you're an Immortal, why can't you just make it rain yourself? Why do you need to ask people for help?"
This is what happens when someone starts reading books—they get harder and harder to fool. I patiently steadied myself and explained, "Mom, trivial matters like wind and rain are things I never bother doing."
To myself, I thought: *That's because I can't do them at all! When it comes to bragging and talking big, though, I've definitely got that covered.* Then I put on a completely straight face and told her, "Mom, everything your son knows how to do are the most supreme divine arts." And they certainly were supreme—sheesh, the kid only knew how to spout nonsense from morning till night.
Miraculously, my mother actually believed it. Just after finishing the meat, I wanted to write another song for my beautiful mother—or to be strictly accurate, copy one.However, a great many people have arrived. It seems my nominal father is truly afraid. If I didn’t know better, I would have believed that my performance yesterday—all that bluffing and playing the ghost—really did allow me to summon the wind and rain. But I would never admit to such things; after all, my life depends on this act.
My nominal father doesn’t dare touch me now. He simply moved us to better living quarters, and I readily agreed, just to keep my mother from worrying. I didn’t let her know how dangerous yesterday actually was.
But the Royal Palace is no place to stay long-term. I have to find a way to escape, or I’ll end up dead here sooner or later. So, I asked my silly mother, "Mother, do you know how to sew clothes?"
She said she did. I told her, "I’ll teach you how to make something truly amazing, but you mustn't tell a soul."
"This is something I used in the Immortal Realm," I told her. "You must keep it a secret." She nodded blindly.
I knew I had fooled her again. Because of what happened yesterday, everyone in the palace is afraid of me now. They all believe I am a supernatural being who can summon wind and rain—and the rain has indeed continued to fall.
I can’t stop it, so I just watch as the palace maids run back and forth wearing raincoats. With yesterday’s experience under my belt, I felt emboldened. I walked out with my head held high, adopting a walk that showed I cared for no one, and went up to the group of maids. "I’m taking these raincoats," I said. "Bring me twenty more." The maids were anxious and wanted to speak; they were afraid of offending me and causing trouble, but they also didn't have the authority to hand them over. Seeing them standing there motionless, I realized they were useless. "Who is in charge here? Call them over," I demanded.
One of the maids ran off to report, and before long, a eunuch arrived. I went straight to the point: "I have a great use for these raincoats. Go get me twenty of the best ones." The eunuch stammered, hesitant.
"What’s wrong?" I said. "If you don't give them to me, do you think I won't go to my father and report you?" A small eunuch like him couldn't handle my intimidation; he quickly said, "I wouldn't dare, I wouldn't dare! I’ll go get them for you immediately."
I told him to have them delivered to my quarters. People really are different once you have a bit of a reputation; only an hour later, twenty robes were laid out neatly in my room. Then I remembered I didn't have any needle and thread. I promptly told him to fetch me the finest ones, and the little eunuch scurried off again. Before long, those were delivered, too.
"Now, bring me some bamboo," I said. The little eunuch didn't understand. I realized then that they probably didn't have bamboo, or perhaps it went by a different name here. I gestured with my hands, showing him I wanted small pieces of wood about the thickness of my arm. He asked how much. I said, "Start with two bundles." The little eunuch still looked confused, so I gestured the size of an armful. "Two of these." He understood immediately and hurried off.
Since the rain was still pouring outside and I had nothing to do, I decided to take a look at my useless Golden Finger. I flipped through it page by page, scanning the texts, but it was all incomprehensible. I decided to try reading it backward. I gave it a hard swipe, and when I looked at it from the end—damn it, my face darkened. It was just songs.
Still, it was better than nothing; having songs to listen to was better than having absolutely nothing at all. Seeing that all the materials had been delivered, I walked over to my mother. "Mother, I’m going to teach you how to make something that can fly. Once it’s finished, I’ll take you up into the sky. How’s that?"
My mother was thrilled. She had only ever heard legends of Immortals flying, and now her own son was an Immortal who was going to take her with him. The thought alone was wonderful, and she readily agreed.
I drew on the ground. I wanted to escape with my beautiful mother, and a hot air balloon was the safest bet. I drew the balloon and the basket beneath it.
"Mother, you just make this," I said. "When the time comes, I’ll take you up into the sky to play." I whispered to her, "You must not let anyone else know. You must hide it; this is our secret."
She promised with all her heart that she wouldn't say a word. I thought it was a foolproof plan, but up in the heavens, three great beings were watching everything clearly.