Mu Qing turned to Xie Lian. “Why don’t you go rest?”
“No. I can still hang on,” Xie Lian replied.
Mu Qing rolled his eyes. “Don’t be stubborn. I’m the one who has to wash your dirty clothes. I’d rather do your part of the work.”
Not far in the distance, someone yelled, “Put your backs into it and don’t talk! No slacking! You wanna get paid?”
Feng Xin was tenacious and continued to persevere, hauling twice as much mud as he had before. “It’s not like this pays that well—why make so much fuss? Who do they think they are?”
After a grueling day of toil from noon to sunset, the work was finally done. The trio weren’t completely physically exhausted, but their hearts were significantly more tired than their bodies—they had worked so hard for only a pittance and a bite to eat. When they were finally free, they lay down to rest on a part of the field that was slightly cleaner.
Just then, another rowdy, noisy group approached. Some men had arrived, their pace slow as they hauled a stone statue.
Xie Lian looked up slightly. “What statue is that?”
Mu Qing glanced at it as well. “Maybe a new divine statue to guard this place.”
Xie Lian said nothing.
If this was the past, the one chosen to watch over a residence would have undoubtedly been one of his own crown prince statues. But now, he didn’t know which god it’d be. It was most likely Jun Wu, or perhaps a newly ascended official.
Xie Lian did nothing for a long moment, but he just couldn’t resist wanting to see who had replaced him. He forced himself to stand up and shuffled over to the crowd to take a look.
The stone statue’s back was facing him, so he couldn’t see the face clearly. However, it seemed to be kneeling. Now Xie Lian was even more curious—which heavenly official would have a kneeling statue? He circled all the way around to get a better look.
When he saw the statue’s face, his entire mind went blank.
The divine statue’s face was his own!
The kneeling statue was settled onto the ground, and someone rudely patted its head.
“Finally got done hauling this thing. This bastard’s pretty heavy!”
“Why drag over a statue like this one? It’s kinda ugly. Why not get one of the Heavenly Emperor? Isn’t this what’s-his-face…”
“It’s that one, right? Didn’t they say that praying to him brings bad luck now? You guys still dare to do it? And going out of your way to transport his statue all the way here…”
“Now, now. None of you get it. Worshipping a God of Misfortune would obviously bring bad luck, but this statue isn’t for worshipping—it’s for stepping on. If you step on a God of Misfortune, doesn’t that mean everlasting good fortune is guaranteed?”
Understanding dawned on the crowd. “That’s so clever! Brilliant!”
Feng Xin and Mu Qing could sense something wrong, and they too fell silent when they saw it. Feng Xin was about to explode, but Mu Qing held him back, warning him with his eyes.
“The crown prince himself hasn’t started anything, so what are you going to yell about?” he said under his breath.
Indeed, he was keeping quiet. Feng Xin wasn’t sure whether Xie Lian had a reason to stay silent, so he didn’t dare move recklessly and forced himself to swallow his angry words. However, his eyes were blazing like flames.
Finally, someone grumbled, “Isn’t this rather…inappropriate? He was once a god—a crown prince.”
“Oh, please. Xianle has fallen, so what’s he crown prince of?”
“You’re wrong. There’s nothing inappropriate about stepping on a God of Misfortune,” another man added. “In fact, he should thank us.”
Xie Lian suddenly spoke up. “Oh? Why should he thank you?”
“Have you seen the thresholds of temples?” the man presumptuously began to explain. “They’re trampled by thousands, hundreds of thousands. And does my lord know how many wealthy households fight to pay for a temple’s threshold to act as their substitute? Every step on that threshold will absolve them of a sin, pay a spiritual debt, and earn a merit. This kneeling statue has the same function. If we step on its head or spit on it, aren’t we collecting merits for the crown prince? He should thank us…”
Xie Lian couldn’t listen anymore. His fist was already ready when that man said the word “thank,” and he lunged.
The crowd instantly exploded in excitement.
“What are you doing?!”
“A fight!”
“Who’s causing trouble?!”
Feng Xin had already been itching to beat people up, so he joined the brawl with a shout. As for Mu Qing, he wasn’t sure whether he’d joined of his own volition or been pulled in, but in any case, all three of them started fighting. In the chaos of the brawl, the white bandage on Xie Lian’s face was almost yanked off a number of times—however, it luckily didn’t happen. The three of them were skilled in martial arts, but their opponents had the strength of numbers. They had an additional advantage in that Mu Qing held the other two back with warnings that killing mortals would only add to their crimes. The fight ended up being miserably restrained—though gratifying nonetheless—and in the end, the trio was chased off.
They walked alongside a river for a while, looking unkempt. Eventually, their steps slowed.
“We worked so hard all day, but in the end, we gained nothing. And all because of a fight!” Mu Qing complained angrily, his face black and blue.
Feng Xin wiped at the blood on his mouth. “How can you bring up money at a time like this?”
“It’s precisely because it’s a time like this that I need to bring up money!” Mu Qing countered. “‘A time like this’? What time is it? A time when we’re starving! Whether you want to admit it or not, we can’t do anything without money! Couldn’t you two have restrained yourselves a little?”
Xie Lian didn’t speak.
“How could we? People made statues of him kneeling solely for the purpose of stepping on him!” Feng Xin said. “You’re not the one whose face is being stepped on, so of course you can dismiss it.”
“It’s not the first time that something like this has happened since the war was lost,” Mu Qing said. “And it surely won’t be the last. If he can’t get used to it soon, he might as well just die.”
“Get used to it? Get used to what? Being humiliated by others? Mortals stepping on his face?” Feng Xin argued, clearly finding the idea offensive. “Why should he have to get used to something like that?”
“That’s enough!” Xie Lian cried out in irritation. “Stop arguing. Is something this small worth fighting over?”
The two of them shut up at once.
After a pause, Xie Lian sighed. “Let’s go and find a carriage to pick up Mother and Father. We’re leaving the city tonight.”
“All right,” Feng Xin acknowledged.
Feng Xin and Xie Lian set off side by side, but they quickly noticed that Mu Qing didn’t follow.
Xie Lian looked back, confused. “Mu Qing?”
After a moment of silence, Mu Qing said, “Your Highness, I want to talk to you about something.”
“What is it?” Xie Lian asked.
“What’s wrong now? I already said I won’t argue with you anymore. What more do you want?” Feng Xin said impatiently.
“I want to leave,” Mu Qing said simply.
“…”
Xie Lian already had a vague, bad feeling before Mu Qing even opened his mouth, but his breath still hitched when his companion actually said it.
Feng Xin thought he might have heard wrong. “What? What did you say?”
Mu Qing straightened his back. His obsidian eyes were unyielding, and his demeanor was calm. “Please permit me to leave.”
“Leave?” Feng Xin exclaimed. “What will His Highness do if you leave? What about the king and queen?”
Mu Qing opened and closed his mouth a couple times, but in the end, he still said, “I’m sorry to ask this, but my hands are tied.”
“No! You explain yourself right now! What the heck do you mean, ‘your hands are tied’?” Feng Xin demanded.
