Guardians of Mountain and Sea - Chapter 1

“Apu! Apu!”

Hearing the distant calls, the girl sitting on the naturally weathered stone platform atop the mountain shouted back in response. After a moment, two grimy heads peeked out from behind the cliff. Apu leaned over to lend a hand, pulling them up one by one.

“Apu, you climbed up to the Divine Severance Cliff again to play. When you go back, your father’s going to beat you half to death.”

The bolder boy stepped forward and peered down. In front of the cliff, a light white mist lingered, but it didn’t obstruct the view.

Looking far down the mountain, the villages and towns appeared as faint smudges dotting the lush green forests and meadows, making one dizzy just to look. The boy was afraid of heights; his legs went weak, and he stumbled back a few steps.

The girl sat hugging her knees. The sun had just risen, casting golden edges on the clouds behind it. It was dazzling to look at but not blinding.

“Brother Ah Tu, do you think the immortals will ever come back here?”

Ah Tu moved to sit beside her and chuckled, “Priestess Ji was just teasing you, and you actually believed her?”

On the other side, Ah Shi, chewing vigorously on a grass stalk, spoke up, “Priestess Ji serves the gods, she never lies!”

Priestess Ji was the mountain’s shaman. No one knew her age. Though addressed as “Grandma,” she had the appearance of a beautiful middle-aged woman.

Apu’s father, when dead drunk, once said that even in his grandfather’s grandfather’s time, the shaman of Great Mang Mountain was Priestess Ji. Now, five generations later, with Apu, her appearance had never changed.

The nineteen towns of Mang Mountain lay deep within the basin of Great Mang Mountain, isolated from the world by dense forests and fierce beasts.

Centuries ago, the imperial court established nineteen county offices here. Of the nineteen magistrates sent by the court, only one, along with a few half-dead servants, managed to survive the journey through Mang Mountain to take up his post.

The magistrate sent word back to the court, but no subsequent officials dispatched by the court ever made it into Mang Mountain alive.

Helpless, the emperor issued a decree, granting the magistrate’s descendants the hereditary right to serve as the officials of the nineteen towns of Mang Mountain.

Nowadays, all nineteen magistrates in Mang Mountain were descendants of that original Magistrate Wang. However, the Wang magistrates only handled minor disputes among neighbors and matters of daily necessities. For major affairs in Mang Mountain, Priestess Ji had the final say.

Priestess Ji lived at the Mang Mountain sacrificial grounds. The nineteen towns of Great Mang Mountain spread outward from the sacrificial grounds as the center. With her silver hair and striking beauty, Priestess Ji rarely ventured out except for the annual sacrificial rites. Only those with severe, bone-deep injuries dared to seek her help.

The children, however, were unafraid and loved gathering around her to listen to her stories.

But as the children grew up and their elders aged, the beautiful woman they called “Grandma” showed no change over three, five, or even ten years. Gradually, the grown children began to regard her with awe and reverence.

Ah Tu shrank his neck and whispered in rebuttal, “Priestess Ji said this mountain was split open by an immortal. How big would a blade have to be to split such a huge mountain? If there were such a massive blade, someone would have seen it. But no one has ever witnessed it, so it must be fake.”

After a moment’s thought, he added, “Right, Apu?”

The girl remained silent. Ah Shi didn’t argue with Ah Tu either, simply wiping the grass stalk roughly on his clothes before handing it to her.

“Sister Xiao Hua picked these sweet grass stalks, they’re really sweet. Try one, Apu.”

She casually took one and chewed it, releasing a faint grassy fragrance and a light sweetness. Changing the subject, she said, “If you’d come a little earlier, you could have seen the full sunrise.”

The two boys exchanged a glance and sat down on either side of the girl.

“We see the sun every day, so why come here to look at it?”

“If you like it, Apu, come to my house. My mom said if you enjoy watching the sun, we can make a window in the roof.”

“My house can do it too! I’ll tell my mom as soon as I get home.”

In the custom of Shijiu Town, a newlywed bride must not step outside her home for three years after marriage, or until she becomes pregnant. She must remain confined in a dark thatched hut to avoid catching the attention of evil spirits.

Both Atu and Ashi wanted to marry her.

The girl sighed.

“Let’s go. I’ve finished watching. Sister Xiaohua must still be waiting for us at the foot of the hill.”

Sure enough, Xiaohua was waiting for them below the cliff, having gathered a small half-basket of wild vegetables while waiting.

“Silly Apu, the immortals are far away from us. Granny Ji just tells us stories.”

Xiaohua brushed the dust off her clothes. “Let’s go pick some more wild vegetables in the woods. When we get back, your father won’t scold you.”

It was nearly noon by the time Apu and Xiaohua returned, each carrying a full basket of wild vegetables.

Back home, Apu saw her five-year-old brother rolling on the ground, covered in dust. She set down her bamboo basket, drew a bucket of well water, and began washing him in the yard.

The so-called yard was merely an area enclosed by a fence, and “washing” meant wiping him down with a ragged cloth soaked in water. As she coaxed her brother and scrubbed him clean, she strained to listen to her parents’ conversation in the main room.

Apu had just turned thirteen, the age when marriage arrangements could begin. Her father was considering which family to betroth her to in exchange for a bride price that would help her second brother marry.

At the moment, Ashi’s family offered the most generous bride price: two cartloads of grain, two sheep, and four egg-laying hens. However, Atu’s family had a sister who was willing to engage in a marriage exchange with Apu.

Her father preferred the exchange marriage.

Apu didn’t see anything wrong with it, every household in Xiaolin Town did the same. Daughters were married off in exchange for a bride price or to bring a bride into the family.

Marriage should have been the most significant event for a girl her age. She also knew that her neighbor, Xiaohua, was waiting for her to choose between Atu and Ashi.

Xiaohua was the prettiest girl in Xiaolin Town.

Apu was two years younger than Xiaohua. Her looks were merely delicate, her cheeks always flushed, and her tea-colored eyes, though not particularly large, were bright and spirited.

Though Xiaohua was beautiful, her family was poor. Her mother was a widow, and she had a young brother.

Apu, on the other hand, had both parents, along with older brothers and sisters. She was luckier than Xiaohua. She could choose first once she picked one, the other would propose to Xiaohua’s family.

But she didn’t want to.

She was supposed to marry and have children, just like her mother marry a man who occasionally drank and beat his wife, bear three sons and two daughters. Then, marry off the eldest daughter to secure a bride price for the eldest son’s marriage. Next, exchange the second daughter for a bride for the second son.

She would earn the admiration of the villagers, who would envy her for having a house full of children and grandchildren, and for her seemingly happy and fulfilling life.

This cycle repeated endlessly, the way of the world, the natural order of human relationships.

But she didn’t want to.

Shijiu Town was separated from the outside world by the vast Mang Mountain. News from inside and outside the mountain rarely crossed, and any information that did arrive was delayed by at least three to five years.

The county magistrates of the Wang family cared only that the annual taxes were sufficient to placate the imperial court. They closed their doors and focused on their own lives, paying little attention to other matters.

To the villagers, Mang Mountain was the entire world. And within Mang Mountain, Granny Ji was the ultimate authority, the spokesperson of the gods.

The people of Mang Mountain revered Granny Ji.

Apu liked her.

Since childhood, Apu had been bold and resilient, climbing trees in the mountains and catching fish in the rivers, always managing to cover herself in dirt and grime. The villagers often criticized her, saying she “didn’t act like a proper girl.”

Whenever her father heard such remarks, he would grab a stick from the woodshed and beat her. Each time, Apu would run to Granny Ji for refuge, as no adult dared to cause trouble at her place.

By the time the little troublemaker turned seven or eight, she overheard her mother discussing with her father inside the house: “Her temperament is unlike other girls. I worry she’ll struggle to marry in the future. Why not send her to another town as a child bride while she’s still young? We could use the money to support the family.”

Though the young girl didn’t fully understand, she sensed something was wrong. She ran to Granny Ji for help, stumbling over her words until she simply repeated what her parents had said. Granny Ji let her stay for half a month.

When Apu emerged from the rituals honoring the spirits, she was still the same Apu, yet somehow different.

She now combed her hair neatly, tying it up to reveal a rosy, smiling face. When she caused trouble, she would apologize with a bright yet shy grin. After playing and running wild with her friends, she would tidy herself up, standing out as particularly charming among the grubby children.

The neighbors began to describe her as “lively and delightful,” and her parents never mentioned the child bride arrangement again.

“Granny, I went to see the mountain split by the immortal again,” Apu said, swaying lazily in Granny Ji’s recliner. “Do you think the immortal will ever return?”

The elegant woman, her silver hair flowing freely and dressed in plain white robes with a small yellow wildflower tucked behind her ear, a gift Apu had picked from the fields was grinding herbs. “In this world today, there are no immortals, only cultivators. That mountain was cleaved by an ancient immortal.”

Apu rolled over onto her stomach and asked, “What’s the difference between an immortal and a cultivator?”

“The difference is vast.”

Throughout the nineteen towns of Mangshan, people claimed that immortals existed exceptionally handsome men and beautiful women who soared through the skies in elegant robes, wielding immense supernatural powers.

Though no one had ever seen one.

But Apu believed Granny Ji had.

Granny Ji said that what people described was true, but the beings they called “immortals” were actually cultivators. The deeper and more refined their cultivation, the greater their supernatural abilities became. The ultimate goal of cultivators was to transcend this world and ascend to immortality.

Apu listened with rapt attention.

Granny Ji also explained that cultivation involved joining different immortal sects to learn mystical arts. Once mastered, soaring through the heavens and traversing the earth would be effortless.

“Then can I join an immortal sect to cultivate?” the girl asked, leaning back in the chair.

Having finished her tasks, Granny Ji lifted a small bronze cauldron from the silvery flames of the stove and poured out a full bowl of pitch-black, bitterly potent medicinal brew.

The girl scrunched up her face and whined, “Granny, do I have to drink it? It’s so bitter…”

The elegant woman brought the bowl to her. “This is the last bowl. Drink it properly. Didn’t you say you wanted to join an immortal sect? These days, the sects value innate spiritual roots. Unless one is born from parents with profound cultivation as a innate divine embryo, or nurtured from childhood, it’s nearly impossible for an ordinary mortal to develop spiritual energy perhaps one in ten thousand.”

Apu sat up abruptly, causing the recliner to creak. Her eyes sparkled with excitement. “Granny, if I drink this last bowl, will I have the spiritual roots to cultivate?”

“It’s not that simple. There are still two more steps to take.”

The silver-haired woman handed her the bowl. The young girl closed her eyes, steeled herself, and gulped down the contents in one go. The familiar, astringent bitterness flooded her mouth.

The medicinal liquid flowed into her stomach, its bitterness accompanied by a scalding heat that spread from her abdomen throughout her entire body, eventually seeping deep into her bones. The intensity of the heat made her shiver uncontrollably.

Once she finally recovered, she picked a few candied dates from the stone table and stuffed them into her mouth. With her cheeks bulging, the girl mumbled, “What two steps?”

Grandma Ji did not answer. Instead, she turned her head and gazed in the direction of Xiaolin Town.

“Apu, you’ve been here with me for five days. It’s time for you to go back.”

After the girl left, the silver-haired woman walked toward the vast altar platform behind the house. A semi-circular, glowing barrier shimmered with ripples of cyan light, flickering briefly before vanishing into the air.

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