Don't farm, cultivate immortality!

"Brother, am I stupid? When you're not home, Dad always says you were smarter and more obedient than me when you were little..."

"What did Father say?"

"Daddy said your brother has never cried once when he sleeps alone." The little sister frowned, vividly imitating her father's face and tone. "Your brother isn't afraid of the dark. He also said, 'My dear daughter, why are you so clumsy at Connect Five? If you play this, Daddy won't be able to make a five-in-a-row.' He even laughed at me for being short..."

The younger sister seemed to remember these words very clearly. I had never heard her mention them before, but now she seemed to have opened a floodgate of words, and she remembered every single one of them.

Hearing these words, it's clear that her father wasn't specifically comparing her to Zhuang Xing, but how should I put it... Zhuang Xing is quite different from other children, and it's normal that his sister isn't as good as him in many things.

Zhuang Xing could say nice things to comfort his sister and tell her that she would become as great as her brother in the future.

But his younger sister is now six years old. Although he hasn't spent much time with her, he has watched her grow up year after year.

Zhuang Xing picked her up and told her, "Brother thinks this is a good sister. Sister is sister, and brother is brother. There are no two identical leaves in the world, nor are there two identical people. So, sister, just be yourself."

The younger sister looked over, seemingly confused; she didn't quite understand what Zhuang Xing was saying.

"If you don't understand, then leave it for later. You'll understand when you grow up." Zhuang Xing carried his little sister outside. "Listen, the music is starting to play outside. The temple fair is about to begin. Today, your brother will take you to have a lot of fun. Give me a smile."

"Okay." The little sister nodded emphatically, a smile spreading across her face. "Brother, let's go buy gifts for Daddy and Mommy!"

"Okay, let's go pick some together." Zhuang Xing put the little guy down. "They'll be very happy."

Chapter 286 Eastern King Temple Meeting

There weren't many people in the teahouse this morning; most of the tea drinkers had gone to the temple fair.

It was rare to see the shop so quiet, with only a few travelers having breakfast. Most of them would order a steamed bun or mantou, take a bite, put one in their pocket, and then hurry out.

Zhuang Xing and his younger sister ate two bowls of hot noodles, made a fuss, and then went out.

He was quite looking forward to today's event. In his previous life, the temple fairs he had attended were basically just food streets, with no proper sacrificial rites or performances. Much of the culture had been lost in the long river of history.

He was a person who liked to join in the fun, and after filling his stomach, he went out with the Wu family.

Although the Wu family has stopped setting up stalls at temple fairs in recent years, they have never missed any of the required worship ceremonies.

In previous years, however, they did not bring Xiao Moli. Instead, they would send the eldest or second eldest son of the family to celebrate the birthday of the Eastern King God on behalf of the whole family. In addition to the two male members who went out, they would also burn incense and paper money at home and offer tea and fruit as tributes.

This year, it seems that Xiao Moli's heartache has been cured, so the whole family has been trying to take Xiao Moli out more often.

Pedestrians hurried along the road, many heading towards the destination.

There were many people today, but Xiao Moli was fine. Although she came out to worship, her family surrounded her tightly, and many eyes were fixed on her.

Above her were two older brothers and their wives, who were about ten years older than her. Besides them were her parents. As the youngest child, and having been lost and then found again, she was naturally pampered at home.

She seemed a little overwhelmed by the favor. She really wanted to squeeze out, but her family members, afraid she would get lost, held both of her hands very tightly.

Zhuang Xing also held his little sister in his arms. There were too many people outside, and if he didn't pick her up, she could only see pairs of swaying legs.

If the sacrificial procession were over, it wouldn't be so crowded. The main problem is that officials were organizing order on both sides of the street, and a main road was set up. Pedestrians were required to make way, leaving less than half a street for walking, which naturally caused the area to become crowded.

If you keep going down this road, you will see an ancient staircase with a bronze cauldron on top. The rising smoke from incense sticks drifts into the sky. Behind the cauldron is the ancient temple, Dongwang Temple.

The Eastern King God is actually the local Kitchen God of Yidu. Its origin is unclear, but this temple has existed for many years, since the founding of Yidu.

In the past, most of the gods and Buddhas worshipped were demons with profound spiritual power. When demons did good deeds and were worshipped by people, they were given divine names.

For example, the Yinglong that Zhuang Xing saw in the snowy mountains when he accompanied Yan Huai'an, the place where the Yinglong first appeared was probably in the Mingzhou area in the south.

Zhuang Xing had read through many legends about Yinglong and the Dragon King, most of which indicated that the dragon came from the water towns of the south.

However, that was a long time ago. Nowadays, there is almost no place in the Great Yu where "gods" who can manifest their power are worshipped. This is mainly because the law does not allow it. After all, if they are called gods, they are actually just demons that have become spirits.

For example, if the five little bears in Zhuangxing's house were released into a backward mountain village and transformed into tigers to perform a dance, the people there would probably worship them as red bear gods.

Take Monkey King for example. When he was in Flower Fruit Mountain, he was a demon king. He was recruited to the Heavenly Court and became the Keeper of the Heavenly Horses, thus becoming a god. After going to retrieve the scriptures, he attained enlightenment and became a Buddha.

In this world, the so-called gods and Buddhas in many places are obtained in this way.

However, there is no such thing as attaining immortality through offerings of incense here. Most of the so-called gods are only looking out for their own benefit, so the Great Yu does not recognize this kind of god.

However, the government of Dayu would not send soldiers to deal with it, because many battles had been fought during the founding of the country, and many "gods" had been killed by stray arrows.

Now, a hundred years after the founding of the Great Yu Kingdom, there are still no particularly famous "gods". Unless something really happens on a big scale, such as the Great Sage Tiger of Xizhou, the government generally will not pay too much attention to it.

However, this Eastern King God is not such a deity. The origin of this god should come from people's primitive worship of fire.

Based on the information Zhuang Xing had gathered over the past few days, along with his own deductions, the Eastern King God was probably not a real god, but rather a figment of imagination. It was created out of worship and gratitude for fire and the hearth.

The Eastern King God is a household name in Yidu, and many people in Chenzhou worship him. After all, he is the god who is in charge of food and warmth. Therefore, there are a lot of people here today, which is the most people Zhuang Xing has ever seen in his life.

Zhuang Xing was amazed by the sea of ​​people before him. Beside the bronze cauldron, someone was striking a drum, which boomed like thunder.

The rhythm is exhilarating, like the sound of war drums.

The atmosphere was stirred up. Zhuang Xing saw the prefect of Yidu. The prefect was dressed in the yellow robes of a priest and came out of the temple. He took off his black gauze hat and dressed like a high priest.

The prefect had more gray hair than in previous years; his temples were gray, but his complexion was much better than before, and he looked radiant.

Zhuang Xing thought the prefect was very suitable for this job. A priest should look dignified. Although the prefect held a high position, he was in good shape and not overweight. He was a capable old man. The old man held incense sticks, placed them in the cauldron, and bowed three times.

He said something, but he was too far away, and there were people talking all around, so even Zhuang Xing could hardly hear what he was saying.

It's probably nothing more than polite words and auspicious phrases, like wishing the Eastern King God would bless every household with lights on.

After the prefect performed the sacrificial ceremony, a dance troupe came out to perform.

This is the real show: the actor playing the Eastern King God is sitting cross-legged on an open-air wooden palanquin, being carried down by others.

Accompanied by the sound of drums and the presence of guards wielding swords and spears, they came along the main road.

It is said that they will circle around Yidu and finally return to Dongwang Temple to conclude the sacrificial ceremony.

There were specially provided braziers by the roadside. When the procession passed by, some people burned paper money in the braziers, closed their eyes devoutly, kowtowed to the gods on the sedan chair, and prayed for protection.

Such people are a minority; most people, like Zhuang Xing, simply watch from the sidelines.

The younger sister seemed a little frightened by the actor with his face heavily made up, and hugged Zhuang Xing's neck.

Zhuang Xing hugged her up, and at that moment, he saw the Tibetan man he had met in Taipei yesterday across the street.

That group of Westerners also came to participate in the temple fair.

They all knelt on the ground, kissed the ground, and kowtowed to the Eastern King God.

This is not their god. There are many different versions of the Kitchen God in Dayu. The Eastern King God is just one of them. On the grasslands beyond the Snow Dragon Mountains, the herders who live by hunting and herding would probably not have a culture of the Kitchen God.

But they still closed their eyes and sincerely bowed in worship.

Chapter 287 Starting with My Great-Grandfather

People lit braziers and began singing and dancing.

Zhuang Xing watched silently as the priests walked past him, his gaze shifting from the Western barbarians and the actors playing the Eastern King God.

The large procession crossed the main road, and then the temple fair was officially declared to have begun.

On another street, vendors had already set up stalls. Zhuang Xing took his younger sister to explore and saw many tricksters and江湖人士 (jianghu figures).

There were monkey trainers and opera singers. The opera troupe had already set up a stage with red cloth propped up on bamboo poles. Zhuang Xing looked towards the stage and saw a strong man lying down with a large stone pressing on his chest. Another person next to him picked up a large hammer and was about to smash it down.

But it was only a half-hearted attempt. They brought over a small monkey, let it parade around in front of everyone to liven up the atmosphere, and then suddenly started selling dog skin plasters.

The head of the business troupe raved about the plaster, saying it was a secret recipe passed down through four generations of their family, capable of treating backaches and pains, clearing heat and detoxifying.

"They say you've been practicing medicine for fifty years and don't treat other illnesses, but you're exceptional at treating back pain. Is that true?" asked a girl playing the good cop next to her.

"From my great-grandfather to my family, five generations have been dedicated to treating back pain," the head of the clinic said with a serious expression.

The men over there were still pinned down by stones, and they started selling the ointment.

Some seasoned veterans would turn around and leave, knowing that this thing was most likely a fake, and the remaining one or two out of ten were just some cheap herbs for treating external injuries ground into a paste.

The story of breaking a boulder on one's chest was just a pretense to whet people's appetites. If the sledgehammer actually broke the boulder, the onlookers would disperse. As long as the boulder didn't break, there would always be people who wanted to see it shatter, and they could take the opportunity to do some business.

The temple fair has only just begun, and they've already smashed the stones. Once the crowd disperses, all their efforts will have been in vain.

So you have to sell the goods first. Once you've sold enough and at least recovered your costs, then you can throw the stone down.

Zhuang Xing also saw through the trick. The person selling plasters was a little girl, who looked to be only eight or nine years old. She looked pitiful, as if she were begging, and came out carrying a broken bowl.

Most of the people buying the plaster were elderly, some were families with young children, and some were there because they felt sorry for the little girl.

Zhuang Xing also bought two doses. This medicine wasn't cheap; each dose cost ten coins. Ten coins could buy a bowl of wontons on the street.

He wasn't actually interested in buying it, but seeing that the little girl was only a year or two older than his sister, he softened and decided to donate it as a donation.

After selling their wares for a while and seeing that there was no business left, other performances began on the stage.

They first took out the big stone pot to show off, leaving a suspenseful moment. Then the little girl who sold the plaster earlier and another boy went on stage. They lay on the ground, barefoot, and used their feet to lift the pottery jar, performing acrobatics.

That's real skill; those twenty coins weren't wasted.

The little girl was seeing this kind of performance for the first time and kept cheering. However, after each performance, the troupe would sell dog skin plasters.

After watching another sword-swallowing acrobatic performance, Zhuang Xing and his sister finally felt a bit tired and went elsewhere.

I've learned a lot along the way.

Some of the tricks used in the martial arts world were ones that Zhuang Xing had never seen before.

The opera troupe just now relied on physical skills, but some of them had unique secret techniques.

Zhuang Xing saw flames rising from a person's hair and clothes. He hurriedly ran into the snow and rolled around in it. The fire grew stronger and stronger, but the snow on the ground did not melt at all. Those who knew the trick would know that it was an illusion, but those who did not know the trick were still shouting loudly and anxiously bringing water to the person who was shouting.

The flames suddenly went out, and the person who had been there vanished, transforming into a small dog. The dog ran onto the stage and then cried for help from below. The person, whose body was still ablaze, bowed and knew that they had just witnessed a good show.

There was no need to beg for money; people threw down tips, and even on the second floor of the teahouse next door, people threw money down.

Zhuang Xing also gave him twenty coins. He was very skilled; if it weren't for the snowy weather, he wouldn't have been able to find any flaws by sight alone.

As expected, there are many hidden masters among ordinary people. He thought that if his senior sister Qiaoxia came here and opened a fire-playing stall, she would definitely earn a lot of tips in a day.

Zhuang Xing took his younger sister out for a whole morning. Whenever they encountered magicians, his sister would pull his hand and ask him to stop and watch for a while.

Zhuang Xing gave tips to everyone who watched the play, with a standard of twenty coins, which was considered very generous. Most of the audience watched for free, cheered, clapped, and left. The tips given by others were generally kept to within ten coins.

Zhuang could have simply walked away without paying a single penny.

But how to put it, he always couldn't help but compare himself and his little sister to those江湖人 (jianghu people, people of the underworld and those who performed tricks).

Just like the two children on the stage spinning the pottery jar with their feet, in the dead of winter, they were only wearing thin clothes, their hands and feet red with cold, while he and his little sister were wearing warm cotton-padded clothes.