Chapter 695: I Am Here to Request the Celestial Emperor’s Abdication

In the Central Plains, tall mountains were few and far between. Even the Yunding Mountain in Pingzhou could not compare in height to the snow mountains of the West, which were capped with centuries of accumulated snow. Mount Ding was considered relatively high; though it was no match for the peaks Song You had climbed in the West, it was still a difficult ascent.

By “difficult,” it meant that those with weak constitutions would find the climb exhausting, since it still took half a day to reach the summit. For those in better health, however, it posed little challenge.

Of course, one could always hire porters. For a small fee, two sturdy men accustomed to hard labor would carry you to the top.

It was the dead of winter, and the summit was snowbound, so much so that in the deepest spots the snow was said to reach over the knees. The cold was biting, and the ice and snow made the mountain paths slippery, the steps treacherous. As it was not a festival day for mountain worship, few people were climbing.

Whether because there were branching paths up the mountain or because many climbers gave up halfway, the higher one went, the fewer people there were.

Yet at the summit, there were still a few souls. They were scholars, bundled in thick clothing, seemingly in good shape, and one even had a sword at his waist.

Upon reaching the top, they dared not stay the night. Instead, they strolled the circuit of the summit, admired the silver-clad scenery, spoke of the miraculous descent of immortals by crane and the times when mist shrouded the peak, and, when inspiration struck, recited a few lines of poetry with their rhymes slightly askew. Finally, they pocketed a few small stones as mementos before heading back down.

By afternoon, Song You was alone atop the mountain.

At this time, snow blanketed the ground. The Daoist walked with his staff, leaving clear footprints as his breath came out in white mist.

Standing at the highest point, he paused and swept his gaze in a slow circle, then closed his eyes to sense the spiritual resonance of heaven, earth, mountain, and water, and the faint, elusive presence of the path to heaven around him.

This time was different from the last. On his previous visit, though he had already understood the principles and mysteries of the path to heaven, it had nothing to do with him personally. Now, returning here, the path to heaven beside him had already been reshaped by him. Not only had he left safeguards behind, but his traces could be seen everywhere along the way.

At this time, the Daoist simply extended a finger.

Buzz!

A profound vibration resonated through heaven and earth. The Great Dao responded, and the link between the mortal world and the Heavenly Palace was opened.

Boom...

A pillar of light descended from the Heavenly Palace, as though the sun hung directly overhead. In the clouds above, a single hole opened, letting through a beam that struck the summit.

Vaguely, the towers of the Heavenly Palace appeared above.

The scene was almost identical to what he had seen when watching an immortal ascend from Mount Zunzhe, lacking only the drifting celestial music, the falling motes of light, and the welcoming divine officers and cranes.

Naturally, no one came to greet Song You, and he needed no greeting.

The Daoist glanced down and patted the snow from his shoes before he shook off the dust of the mortal world and took a single step into the light.

The dazzling brilliance before his eyes flared, and the outside world blurred. In that blinding radiance, his figure rose swiftly, all the way to the clouds above.

It was the clouds, and yet not.

The great difference was that these clouds were solid, exactly as they appeared from afar when gazed at from the earth, yet they did not dissolve into mist when approached. They remained ethereal in sight but tangible underfoot, soft as cotton to the tread, and upon closer look, they were still flowing.

“Exquisite beyond words,” the Daoist murmured, a smile tugging at his lips.

The wonder was that it was exactly as mortals imagined it when they gazed upward from below.

Amid the white clouds stood a single door. As if it was carved from the finest white jade, the solitary door was ancient and imposing, and it radiated divine light in all directions.

Two divine generals stood guard before it.

“Who’s there...?”

The two heavenly generals looked at Song You, their brows first arching in surprise before they froze for a moment. Exchanging a glance, they then continued to ask, “The path to heaven has not yet been opened, how is it that you are able to ascend?”

“Greetings, Door Gods[1].” Song You bowed first, then replied, “I have my own means.”

“...”

“...”

The two divine generals looked at each other again.

“This is the Heavenly Gate of the Heavenly Palace, and this is already within the domain of the Heavenly Palace,” said the general on the left. “Only divine beings have ever been able to come here; this is no place for mortals. Since you have reached this place, you clearly possess great power and fortune, Your Excellency. But we cannot simply let you pass. We must first ask your purpose, and then report it to the Celestial Emperor before you may enter.”

“The Celestial Emperor is without virtue and without benevolence, defying the laws of Heaven and bringing chaos to the mortal realm. I have come here to act in accord with the Heavenly Dao above and the will of the people below to depose the Celestial Emperor.”

“...” The two divine generals froze, then exchanged another glance.

Their suspicions were confirmed, yet it was still not what they had imagined.

Over two hundred years ago, the Celestial Emperor had been replaced once before, but that situation had been entirely different, and Daoist Fuyang had never even set foot in the Heavenly Palace.

Back then, the change in the Heavenly Palace had accompanied the rise and fall of mortal dynasties. The shift in the Celestial Emperor had been from the bottom up: beginning in the human world, then extending to Heaven. Once no mortal offered worship to the former Celestial Emperor, and all acknowledged and revered the new one, the old ruler had naturally vanished and was replaced by the present one. The process had taken years.

The two generals had already heard rumors: the Four Saints had been defeated, the Celestial Emperor was fearful, and the Heavenly Palace might soon change hands again. But they had assumed the process would be the same as before, and they had never imagined that this Daoist would ascend the Heavenly Path in a mortal body without a divine form, and come directly to the Heavenly Palace.

Yet matters of this magnitude were far beyond the reach of two lowly gate guards.

“The Celestial Emperor has lost virtue for far too long, and the mortal realm has suffered greatly,” said Song You with a bow. “I ask you two Door Gods to allow me passage.”

“...”

Just then, a metallic rustle sounded. One divine general’s armor shifted with a clink as he stepped aside, opening the Heavenly Gate. The other general, however, wore a face full of hesitation.

“I have served as a god for eight hundred years, and for five hundred of those, I have guarded this gate. Though you stand on the side of justice, guarding the Heavenly Gate is my duty... Even if I ignore the Celestial Emperor’s commands, it is still the rule that no demons, spirits, or earthly deities may enter the Heavenly Palace.”

“I understand.” The Daoist nodded, still courteous. Then, with a sweep of his robe, he sent forth a beam of spiritual light.

Though it looked ordinary, within it was the power to move mountains and drive back seas, yet it did not make things difficult for the general.

Boom!

Caught off guard, or perhaps not intending to resist in the first place, the divine general was knocked flying straight through the Heavenly Gate and vanished instantly.

The other general remained where he stood, unmoving.

The Daoist bowed to him and said, “thanks,” before striding alone through the Heavenly Gate.

***

In an instant, the scene before him changed.

Inside the Heavenly Gate stretched a vast and breathtaking immortal realm. White clouds carpeted the ground beneath his feet, extending all the way to the horizon. The cloud surface was mostly level, but often rolled and surged like waves; now and then, openings or gaps appeared through which the mountains and rivers of the mortal realm could be faintly glimpsed below.

Above floated countless suspended islands, each wreathed in white clouds and linked by great chains. Celestial cranes glided between them, crying melodiously. Upon those islands stood many exquisite, ancient-style palaces and pavilions, and from afar there drifted faint strains of celestial music.

Above all this was yet another layer of cloud, and the Heavenly Palace’s clouds were arranged in tiers.

In the human world, clouds sometimes also appear in layers, so that upon passing through one you might see another spread out above like a sheet. But there were far more layers in Heaven than in the mortal sky.

These clouds varied in thickness. For example, the palaces and floating islands here were not all at the same height; some rose higher, some lower. A thin, scattered layer of clouds overhead meant only a small tier had been passed. But a dense mass thick enough to block sight entirely marked the crossing into a major tier.

In total, there were always thirty-six such layers, known as the Thirty-Six Heavens[2].

The Thirty-Six Heavens were divided into the Lower Nine Heavens, Middle Nine Heavens, and Upper Nine Heavens. The Lower Nine housed mostly minor or newly ascended gods, serving as a bridge to the mortal realm; earthly deities summoned to Heaven would also dwell here temporarily. The Middle Nine were home to celestial officials and generals who oversaw governance and coordination; some ancient or great gods with idle posts also resided there. The Upper Nine were the domain of the most powerful and important deities, such as the decision-makers and those with profound spiritual powers, and ordinary gods could not enter lightly.

Each layer was separated by thin clouds; every nine layers were divided by a thick cloud.

The highest heaven was called the Great Luo Heaven, where the Celestial Emperor’s Rising Clouds Palace stood. Gods who served and lived there were called Great Luo Immortals, a title denoting rank, office, and heritage rather than cultivation or magical power.

Song You caught sight of the divine general from before. On a celestial island far from the Heavenly Gate, a massive crater had been blasted into the ground. At its base was a bed of clouds sturdy enough to bear a god’s weight, and there the general lay sprawled.

“My apologies...” the Daoist murmured softly.

He raised his head to look upward at the towering immortal islands and the clouds of the higher heavens, then lowered it again to glance around. He extended a finger toward the nearby clouds.

“...”

Without a sound, a portion of cloud separated itself and drifted to the Daoist’s side.

Seeing this, he stepped forward onto it.

Whoosh!

The cloud began to move at once and rode the wind upward. It trailed a long tail of vapor behind it as it carried the Daoist slantwise through rows of immortal islands and palaces, flying toward the higher heavens.

Only now did the gods of the Lower Nine Heavens begin to grow restless. He passed who-knew-how-many palaces, then rose through a cloud tunnel and swiftly crossed the boundary into the next Nine Heavens, breaking through a thick cloud layer above. It was like pushing into a mass of cotton or drifting snow; his passage left a hole in the cloud, sending little tufts swirling into the air before they dispersed.

Finding it amusing, the Daoist kept going. But suddenly, he turned his head to look back. A wind blew across the heavens, slowly mending the hole he had made in the cloud layer.

The Middle Nine Heavens housed many celestial officials, generals, and some ancient great gods. Seeing the Daoist flying straight upward without pause, some seemed to notice he was not a god but a mortal, or else saw that his flight did not match the formal conduct of heavenly beings. They cast curious looks, and some even moved to block his way and question him.

But once they heard the Daoist was named Song You, from the Hidden Dragon Temple, they either quickly withdrew and avoided him entirely, or bowed respectfully and gave him directions.

He then went up into the final Nine Heavens. By the time he reached these last Nine Heavens, familiar faces often appeared.

For example, the chief officers of the Eight Divisions of legitimate gods resided in the Twenty-Eighth Heaven. Fiery Sun True Lord and his disciples lived in the Thirty-Fourth Heaven. The Thirty-Second and Thirty-Fifth Heavens were now nearly deserted, for one had been the secluded cultivation ground of the Ancient God of Heavenly Bell, and the other of the Four Saints of the Four Directions. The Ancient God of Heavenly Bell still had a few disciples left; the Thirty-Fifth Heaven, however, was utterly abandoned.

The Daoist continued upward until he reached the Great Luo Heaven.

By this time, the Celestial Emperor had already received word and had gathered many celestial officials and generals within the Great Luo Heaven. There were also quite a number of heavenly soldiers, each holding divine weapons and magical tools, clearly intent on barring the Daoist’s path.

The Daoist arrived riding a cloud, and as soon as he set foot on the ground, that small tuft of cloud was scattered by the wind.

He glanced over the assembled gods and generals.

At first glance, their numbers seemed imposing. But on closer inspection, they were clearly lacking in formation or discipline. Most likely, the Celestial Emperor had pulled some from here and summoned a few from there, gathering whatever forces he could still muster. The result was a disorderly mix, and with the hesitant or wary looks on the faces of the divine officials and heavenly generals, their actual combat strength was highly questionable.

“Why has the current owner of Hidden Dragon Temple come here?”

A voice drifted from afar, still steady and authoritative, echoing through the immortal islands and palace towers. At the sound, the gathered gods and generals stiffened nervously.

“I have come to request that the Celestial Emperor abdicate,” the Daoist spoke plainly, without bowing.

1. The word 门

door

in Chinese also means

entrance / access / way / gate

. ☜

2. In Daoist mythology, ‘Heaven’ is divided into thirty-six levels, which are further categorized into: the Six Heavens of the Desire Realm, the Eighteen Heavens of the Form Realm, the Four Heavens of the Formless Realm, the Four Brahma Heavens, and the Four Sacred Heavens. The Lingbao scriptures of the Eastern Jin, such as the

Lingbao Wuliang Duren Shangpin Miaojing

, absorbed the Buddhist concept of the ‘Three Realms and Twenty-Eight Heavens’ and developed the Daoist idea of the ‘Thirty-Two Heavens.’ During the Tang dynasty, the Daoist Du Guangting added the ‘Three Pure Heavens’ and the ‘Great Luo Heaven’ to these thirty-two, thereby systematizing the Daoist heavenly realms into ‘Thirty-Six Heavens’, a classification that has been retained within Daoism ever since. ☜