Famine 97: Tenman Paradise

Si Zhiyan raised his brows slightly, then resumed his usual composure and smiled:

“…You have something you wish to speak to me about, do you not?”

He tapped lightly on the table. “Come in, then.”
Without Si Zhiyan’s permission, nothing could enter the Farm Owner’s cabin at will.

Looking more closely, the shadow had already vanished.
Si Zhiyan turned back, and the little wooden doll now stood at his side, her charcoal smile pressed close to him.

…He was starting to get used to it.

Si Zhiyan leaned back, one long leg propped up, arms folded:
“That last notification told me that the Divine Vein appreciates me very much… Strange. I thought the Divine Vein was up there hating me to the core.”

He pointed at the night sky outside.

Suspended in the darkness, the giant eye hovered, blood beading at its pupil, staring unblinking at the farm.
Ever since that ordeal, the [Eye] had been wounded. From time to time, droplets of blood seeped from its pupil, yet it never blinked, watching with swollen, bloodshot veins fixed on the farm.

He wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, but it seemed to grow a little redder each day—yet it still forced itself to remain wide open, not even daring to close for a moment’s rest.

…Just to look at it made one’s own eyes ache—a truly chilling sight.

“From the moment I came into contact with you, the Divine Vein began to pay attention to me; when I found the calf’s mother, its favor toward me grew; and now, after fulfilling my promise with you, the Divine Vein has begun to thank me, even appreciate me…”

Si Zhiyan said, “Little one, even now, after the world has ended, you still serve the Divine Vein, don’t you?”

Hoo.

The night wind stirred. The little shrine maiden doll bowed her head and gave Si Zhiyan a formal salute.

“Wako,” she said quietly, “that is her name, not the Divine Vein… Her name is Wako.”

With that salute, the clock struck midnight outside.

Dong—
Dong—

The midnight bell tolled.
Every night at twelve, that bell would mark the coming of another evil incursion.

The thin mist outside thickened to a heavy, blood-red haze; from afar came the cries and shouts of the players on watch.

With the bell, a piece of intricate, dazzling silver brocade unfurled before Si Zhiyan.

From behind the little shrine maiden, a lavishly embroidered kimono skirt spilled forth, interwoven with countless smooth black strands of hair, blooming outward to fill the space. The exquisite cloth and dark hair stacked and spread, rapidly covering the study. In the whistling wind, the silhouette of a young woman in kimono and with trailing hair slowly unfurled at the center.

[Ah… ah…]

Like an aria, a soft and ethereal voice rose. The skirt filled the room, and the maiden’s swan-like neck and shoulders radiated elegance and grace.

The little shrine maiden bowed her head and respectfully supported the maiden’s slender fingertips.
This did not seem to be a person, but a spirit—an existence akin to a guardian.

[Well met, lost traveler…]

The maiden lifted her head.

[Whose name do you call?]

Their gazes met, and Si Zhiyan’s brow twitched imperceptibly.

This girl had no eyes.
When she looked at Si Zhiyan, there were only two black, bleeding holes.

On the kimono, a haphazard embroidery formed three characters: [Divine Vein Maiden].

Si Zhiyan said, “At last, we meet—Miss Divine Vein Maiden… Is it all right if I address you like this? The embroidery on your robe is beautiful. I’ve never seen the like before.”

The eyeless maiden bowed her neck, her voice soft and solemn:
[You have met my sister.]

“Sister?” Si Zhiyan inquired.

[My sister. My other half…]
The Divine Vein Maiden spoke gently:
[We… were those chosen by the Divine Vein.]

From that gentle, smooth voice, Si Zhiyan gradually pieced together the entire story.

In a faraway world, there was a place called [Tenman Paradise].

The people worshipped a world-will known as the [Divine Vein].

There was no war, no catastrophe; the Divine Vein sheltered human civilization, bringing fair winds, timely rain, and bountiful harvests. The people rose at sunrise and rested at sunset, living peaceful and happy lives.

Every child in Tenman Paradise, on the day of the annual festival after turning three, was brought to Tenman Shrine to receive a [Divine Vein Destiny Tablet].

The Destiny Tablet would determine each child’s fate.
Those skilled with their hands would be granted the “Artisan’s Fate”; those brave and strong, the “Warrior’s Fate”…

The Divine Vein perceived the deepest potential in every youngster, bestowing the most fitting destiny to ensure a happy life.

But among these, the most honored of all was one particular fate: [Divine Vein Maiden].

The girl chosen as [Divine Vein Maiden] would become the Oracle of the Divine Vein.
She would abandon mortal flesh, becoming the vessel of faith. She would leave ordinary life behind, reside in the shrine, and serve as the Divine Vein’s attendant—communicating its will to the world.

When an old Divine Vein Maiden passed, a new one would arise.

This time, the newly chosen maiden was from the hot spring village, the daughter of a carpenter…

News reached their home, and the little hot spring village erupted in joy and blessings.

The little girl walked slowly into the shrine, sighing softly:

“When two arise for the Divine Vein, catastrophe is near.”

The sisters, though twins, could not have been more different in nature.

The elder was lively and clever, but always drawn to play—birds, the gentle shrine samurai, anything and everything except study and discipline attracted her. Even the old priests’ constant sighs did not deter her from her amusements.

Luckily, there was her younger sister. Whenever the elder wandered off chasing birds and butterflies, it was always her younger sibling who, sleeve at her lips, smiled softly and finished the tasks for her.

The younger sister was steadier, quieter, kind and gentle—the very image of a Divine Vein Maiden. She could not even bear to kill an ant, always willing to shoulder the responsibilities for her elder sister and all the people. She was unmoved by worldly things, spending each day in relentless practice, her spiritual arts reaching perfection.

In that paradise, years passed unnoticed… @For the best novels, visit Jinjiang Literature City

Until the descent of the Main God.

The elder, always careless with practice, collapsed in despair—helpless and regretful, but nearly useless now.

The younger exhausted all her strength, did everything she could, but could not defeat the Main God, nor pass the ever more difficult special trials.

Tenman Shrine crumbled. Those quiet, noble warriors who had once guarded them all died. The corpses stood in death, forming a forest of black thorns encircling the ruined shrine.

At this pace, everyone would perish.

I need power… I need more power…

In the end, the younger sister raised her head from a mountain of corpses, her eyes bloodshot.

–There is only one way left: accept the sacrifices.
Accept all sacrifices, indiscriminately; let all who believed in her become her strength. @For the best novels, visit Jinjiang Literature City

“Offer up your lives. Thus speaks the Divine Vein Maiden with the [Divine Vein Destiny Tablet].”

“Please, lend us your strength.”

And that order included even her own sister.

The Divine Vein Maiden’s inheritance was divided in two—an ordeal which nearly destroyed her.

The younger sister sat frankly with her elder, eyes brimming with tears, and bowed deeply. They pledged: one should survive, one should die; their faith became the battleground. The vanquished would return her inheritance and all her followers.

From the day of the ceremony, neither [Divine Vein Maiden] would age; their existence was sustained only by faith.
To return all belief was to die.

The elder could not relent.

Even then, she refused to turn against her sister, refused to die. She pleaded endlessly with her younger sibling… but it was useless.

Years wasted in idle abandon—they left her powerless, incapable before the Main God or even before her sister.

In the end, the younger retracted all her sister’s faith, becoming the complete [Divine Vein Maiden].

The elder’s eyes remained wide even in death, her body gradually fading away.

The younger sobbed furiously, holding her sister’s eyes against her chest, weeping herself hoarse, burning her bridges behind her.
[Divine Vein Maiden] thus became a demonic god, walking a path of no return.

…………
……

Si Zhiyan stared at the maiden before him.
There was no doubt—the [Eye] in the sky was the younger sister.

And the one before him, the elder Divine Vein Maiden.

“You… are still in the world?”

[No. I ought to have perished, but there remains a spark of faith drawing me back.]
The elder sister spoke softly.

“You mean not all the faith was reclaimed by your younger sister?” Si Zhiyan asked. “Who has such power as to defy the Divine Vein?” @For the best novels, visit Jinjiang Literature City

The elder Divine Vein Maiden shook her head and fell silent for a moment, then said quietly: [A simple carpenter.]

[Our father.]

The Divine Vein chose the twin daughters of the carpenter as its maidens. No one ever asked for the carpenter’s opinion.

His Destiny Tablet prescribed a life of carving statues for the Hot Spring Pavilion’s shrine. An unremarkable man with little say; he never left the village after that tablet was bestowed at age three. Nor did he dare to hinder his daughters’ destiny.

He lived alone, kneeling in a vacant thatch hut, continuing his fate—each day, facing shrine and altar, he carved wood, thinking of his two young daughters. His tears soaked into his knife, which shaped statue after statue of the girls as small and lively as he remembered.

These were not images for worship, but likenesses of his own beloved daughters.

Day after day he wept, day after day he carved, until the storeroom of the Hot Spring Pavilion was filled to bursting.

He was only a mortal, and died the first day the game arrived.
But his will and faith lingered in that little hut.

Years later, when the elder lost all faith—destroyed by her younger sister, she revived once more in the old Hot Spring Pavilion.

All the faithful, all who worshipped the Divine Vein, believed the younger sister could save Tenman Paradise and the world.
Only her father wished for his daughters to return home.

He was her last believer, her anchor to life.

When the Divine Vein inheritance was retracted, it gave “Wako” new life.

The father’s shrine maiden wood doll became an offering, turned into an official at the Tenman Hot Spring.
When the elder’s spirit descended, it gained awareness.

The elder Divine Vein Maiden, Wako, placed her hand on the little shrine maiden’s shoulder and quietly closed her eyes.

[The rest of the tale… is as you have seen.]

—The younger sister failed.

A world drowned in blood sacrifices, fratricide… She paid such a price, only for the young Divine Vein Maiden to lose the Main God’s trial—accomplishing nothing.

The world was destroyed.
With blood and tears streaming, she cast aside her mortal shell, became the [Eye], to preserve what little remained.

The elder, her body gone, sight lost, lingered only as a remnant spirit, prolonging her existence within the wooden doll in that ruined world.

Until Si Zhiyan’s arrival.

Wako’s voice was soft and calm, no longer tinged with bright, cheery laughter.
“…” Si Zhiyan sighed. “You must have something you wish to tell me, coming here like this. Please, speak.”

The elder Divine Vein Maiden simply shook her head, her kimono’s wide sleeves fluttering lightly.

[You are worthy of our trust. You ought to know all of this.]
[I am only a defeated soul, clinging to a shadow of life… I dare not presume to ask for anything.]

[There is but one thing. Perhaps it is all I have learned in this sorry, futile life… Please do not refuse.]

She raised her arms.

[It is this… I ask you to allow a reading of the [Divine Vein Destiny Tablet], to divine the fortune or misfortune to come.]

Buzz!

The mists billowed.

In the backyard storehouse, a wooden calf sculpture trembled, then soared, cloaked in a faint light, into the waiting hands of Wako.

[Destiny Woodcarving – Calf]
The fate of the ox is a life of ceaseless toil—up at dawn, home with the darkness, growing old and feeble, losing its strength for labor.
Only at life’s end, lying in the shelter at last, does the ox realize that its happiest days were as a calf, nestled at its mother’s side, chewing cud in contentment.
From the woodcarving grows a disk of fate, tallying the viewer’s destiny.
Those who touch the woodcarving may briefly return to the happiest days of their lives.

When he first took the sculpture from the enormous skeletal fate disk, it had read: [Time until next fate disk growth: 13 days].

Now, the countdown had ended.

Above the sculpture, a spin of blue light had formed into a fate disk, inscribed with the Four Symbols and Eight Trigrams, placed neatly atop.

Wako held the disk up in both hands, her eyes downcast, lips parted, chanting words that Si Zhiyan could not comprehend.

Buzz—

As she chanted, the disk spun faster and faster, runes spinning by in a blur,
golden light flickering once more.

To show proper respect, Si Zhiyan straightened his clothing and sat upright.
He was curious—what fate would the Divine Vein assign to him?

Buzz, buzz…!

At last, the disk reached its peak, golden light pulsing to its limit.

The swiftly cycling characters finally clicked into place.

Just as Si Zhiyan moved to read them, Wako suddenly raised the disk high and, with both hands, smashed it onto the ground!

Crack!—

With a resounding crash.

The golden light vanished, the disk shattered, impossible to decipher.

Wako bowed low, touching her forehead to the floor before Si Zhiyan with a soft “thud.”

[Fate is refuse, only rain-blurred mud on the roadside—unworthy of mention.]

[Your fortune and adversity must be in your own hands.]

Wako lifted her head, meeting Si Zhiyan’s gaze—black sockets weeping blood, yet full of unwavering resolve.

[This is the sole precious lesson earned in this pitiful life.]

—

Si Zhiyan sat upright before Wako’s fragile shoulders, expression warm, not shrinking from her prostration.

One word at a time, Wako pronounced:
[So, my visit today is not to tell you anything; rather, I wish to ask you.]
[—From here forward, what do you intend to do?]