Chapter 104: If I Am to Bow, He Is Not Yet Worthy

It had been a month or two since the Golden Horn Youth descended to the mortal realm, yet this was the first time he witnessed such a lively scene.

The city streets were crowded with people, and incense smoke billowed in the air like clouds.

There were gong beaters, drummers, singers, lion dancers, fire breathers, and various performers displaying their tricks.

Merchants strolled among the crowd, some setting up stalls while others wandered, selling an assortment of goods: poultry and livestock, clay figurines, food, tea, and wine.

Curious, the Golden Horn Youth asked an elderly woman beside him, "Grandmother, why is it so bustling here?"

The old woman, her hair silver as frost, was celebrating with the crowd. When her sleeve was tugged, she was slightly displeased, but upon seeing the youth’s graceful and refined features, her heart softened immediately.

With kindness and warmth, she replied, "This is a long-standing tradition of our Kingdom of Qindao. Every year on this day, a grand temple fair is held to honor the Compassionate Deliverance True Lord."

"The Compassionate Deliverance True Lord?" The Golden Horn Youth asked with some puzzlement, recalling his own memories yet finding no trace of such a deity.

He did not press further, for as a disciple of the Old Lord, his encounters were mostly with renowned celestial beings of the Heavenly Court.

He thought to himself, "It must be a minor spirit."

The old woman, noticing his doubt, smiled and explained, "Long ago, this was but a small village. One day, countless monsters came to prey upon the people. In that great calamity, the Compassionate Deliverance True Lord appeared. He slew the demons and monsters, protecting us all, and used sacred medicine to save the villagers’ lives.

"When asked his name, and offered gold and silver in gratitude, he refused, only accepting a small offering of grains, for he sought only to save without reward. The villagers were deeply grateful.

"The one he saved was a carpenter who tried to carve his likeness with a knife, praying daily, but it was fruitless until ten years later, when in a sudden glance, he finally captured the True Lord’s visage.

"Thus, the entire village believed their sincerity had moved the True Lord to reveal himself. They all worshiped him and made clay statues in his honor, following his deeds, and so he was named the Compassionate Deliverance True Lord.

"This very day marks the anniversary of his descent to save our village. Every year, we hold grand ceremonies to pray for blessings and protection from calamities, for favorable winds and timely rains. No wonder the crowds grow larger each year."

Hearing this, the Golden Horn Youth nodded in approval—truly a benevolent deity. He thanked the old woman and moved toward the festivities.

After he passed, the old woman noticed the sword strapped to his back and the gourd hanging at his waist.

She called out, "Young man, you’re quite young—be careful with that sword. Don’t hurt yourself!"

But the Golden Horn Youth had already vanished from sight.

On his way, he was thoroughly entertained by the various tricks.

Some conjured wine jars and fruit plates from bamboo baskets; others flipped empty bowls upside down and caused clear water to appear out of thin air.

One performer displayed a celestial rope, tossing it skyward, claiming it could be climbed all the way to the Heavenly Palace.

The crowd was skeptical, but when a companion climbed the rope and disappeared into the clouds, observers were amazed and eagerly tossed coins that clattered across the ground.

The Golden Horn Youth found this amusing and, with a breath of wind, stirred a strong gust that sent the climber swaying and shouting in alarm midair.

The performer was frightened, praying profusely to the Lords of the Firmament, pleading that he had no intention of offending the Heavenly Court.

Fortunately, the Golden Horn Youth only played for fun, with no ill will, and soon blew a gentle breeze to guide the climber safely back down.

Unaware of the true cause, the crowd believed it part of the act and threw even more coins in applause.

The performer and his companion exchanged wry smiles—truly, a blessing in disguise.

Delighted, the Golden Horn Youth wandered on through the streets.

Soon, he noticed a place in the sky where the incense smoke thickened, signaling the location of the True Lord’s temple.

Expecting the area to grow even livelier nearer the temple, he approached.

He saw another performer, more versatile than the rest—picking beans like an immortal, swallowing knives, spitting fire—all performed flawlessly.

The crowd showered him with rewards.

Yet the Golden Horn Youth narrowed his eyes, sensing the man was dishonest. Amidst the dazzling display, he was stealthily stealing from the patrons’ waists.

Suddenly, the Golden Horn Youth looked eastward and sensed the aura of the incense and divine path—but this aura was inert, displaying no action.

He memorized the performer’s face and then, with a stern expression, strode toward the temple.

At the temple gate hung a pair of couplets:

"No need to worship me; those with a kind heart in peril I will save myself.

No need to honor me; a bright heart is meant to ferry all destined souls across."

Worshippers came and went, incense burning endlessly, all devout to the utmost.

The Golden Horn Youth sneered inwardly, thinking, "Indeed, you should neither be worshiped nor honored."

He knew the divine path was established for the sake of all living beings, but the affairs of mortals were many, and those on the divine path could not attend to all matters.

Yet the performer’s thievery had occurred right before the temple, and the True Lord was present—surely he saw everything but chose to ignore it. This was a grave dereliction of duty.

With head held high, the Golden Horn Youth approached directly to the statue, bypassing those praying to the side.

Beneath the statue stood an elderly man, who handed him three incense sticks and smiled, saying, "You must be a visitor. It wouldn’t hurt to offer incense—it may bring blessings and avert disasters."

The Golden Horn Youth did not accept the incense and asked instead, "How do you know I am a visitor?"

The old man chuckled, "This city is small, and most have come to worship the Compassionate Deliverance True Lord. A handsome youth like you worshiping here would surely be remembered."

Hearing this, the Golden Horn Youth felt a bit embarrassed—who doesn’t enjoy a compliment?

Yet, facing the offering, he declined, saying, "If I were to offer incense, he isn’t worthy."

At once, those kneeling in worship and the passersby all looked up at him with displeasure; even the old man wore a scowl.

The Golden Horn Youth knew his words were inappropriate, but he felt no guilt.

After all, though still a youth, he was a disciple of the Old Lord, and ordinary minor gods were truly unworthy of his reverence—and could not bear it.

Faced with the hostile gazes of these mortals, he sighed lightly and uttered a single word: "Freeze!"

Instantly, an invisible force spread, and the temple’s world stilled, starkly contrasting with the bustling noise outside.

At this moment, Cao Kong inhabited a clay statue’s golden figure and looked at the Golden Horn Youth with some surprise.

Is this the Art of Stasis?

The youth’s bearing was extraordinary, unlike any ordinary mortal; his refined and elegant visage commanded admiration from all. A golden thread was wrapped around his head.

The Golden Horn Youth fixed his gaze on him and spoke coldly:

"You so-called True Lord, if you are here, why do you ignore the thieves outside the temple? Truly, you shame your faith and incense!"

Cao Kong was stunned by these words.

Seeing no reaction from Cao Kong, the Golden Horn Youth stamped his foot and commanded:

"Hey! Come see me at once."

Divine power spread throughout the air.