Volume One, Chapter Eight: Two Emperors in a Single Day

Chapter Eight: Two Emperors in a Day

The world is vast, filled with wonders beyond imagination.

Within the Four Great Continents—Jambudvipa (the Southern Continent, home to us common folks and our ancestors), Purvavideha (the Eastern Continent, where the Great Sage Sun Wukong’s Mountain of Flowers and Fruit lies), Aparagodaniya (the Western Continent), and Uttarakuru (the Northern Continent)—all sentient beings, whether born from womb or egg, are brought into the world by their mothers. Never has it been heard that a father gives birth to a son.

Yet, the unimaginable always awaits those who dare not dream. On Mount Sumeru, the birth of celestial princes and princesses is a story set apart. Males give rise to males, females to females. There is no talk of ten months’ gestation. Should a prince be born, a lump swells upon the father’s thigh or knee, bursts in but a moment, and out comes a son, already twelve years of age. For a princess, the mother’s belly swells and splits as quickly, and the daughter is born, likewise twelve years old. The boy is called a celestial prince, the girl a celestial princess.

It’s said that to be reincarnated as one of these celestial children is a reward for accumulated virtue in one’s past life. Such virtue is marked by three good deeds: right action, right speech, and right thought. Thus, upon their birth in this new life, they know whence they came, where they dwell, and whither they are bound.

Indeed, it is all but unfathomable.

For Jin Mu, to beget such a son during his difficult years as a lesser Celestial King was a joy beyond measure. Naturally, he longed to know the origin of this precious child.

But Tu Zhe, though aware of his past life, had no inkling of his current existence or future destiny.

The mysterious little dog, Yema, who had followed the rascal through reincarnation into a celestial prince, was overjoyed to see his companion finally gain a physical body. Unable to contain himself, he tugged sharply at Tu Zhe’s mouth with his teeth, exclaiming, “Oh my, Rascal Bro, you’ve become a celestial prince without even realizing it! Your luck’s something else—one word: fabulous! Hahaha...”

Still lost in a haze, Tu Zhe glanced at his own naked body, then at Jin Mu—a towering figure of more than ten kilometers, his thigh like a celestial pillar—grinning so broadly his mouth nearly split, and next to him, Jin Si, whose stern face could not hide the gentle pride and affection in his eyes. He looked again at the Yaksha Shudra, all scales and monstrous form, and finally at the grand hall’s gilded dome, rising dozens of kilometers above. He could not suppress a long, hissing breath.

So this, then, was Mount Sumeru—the place the dog had spoken of?

And these giants, how could they be so immense, each like a living mountain? What weight did such beings possess?

Were they gods, or Buddhas?

And as for himself—was he now... a celestial prince?

Where he came from, “celestial prince” was a title for emperors and kings. Could he truly be one? Clearly impossible!

So what, then, was this celestial prince?

Meanwhile, Yema was bounding around the great hall, tail wagging, his curiosity unbridled. “Mount Sumeru, here at last! First time for this doggo, oh my, this glass lamp is so shabby, must be for the servants—tut-tut. And they call this the Seven Treasures? I’ve never seen gold, silver, glass, coral, red pearls, giant clam, or agate like this—tsk tsk. And what’s this supposed to be, the wondrous tree of seven jewels? Tut-tut...” The little dog’s exclamations echoed as he darted about.

Jin Mu and his brother paid him no mind, their attention wholly on the new son and nephew, growing more pleased the longer they looked.

Among the thousands of celestial children in these Thirty-three Heavens, which could boast such perfect physique, such skin white as congealed cream, a brow shining like precious jade? Whose eyebrows were as sharp as swords, extending to the temples, whose eyes sparkled with the light of a billion stars—deep as the sea, bright as the sun and moon? Whose nose stood so proud and straight, like an upturned treasure vase? Whose mouth was so well-formed and resolute? Had they not witnessed the extraordinary signs at his birth? When Indra’s son was born, it was no more remarkable—and, truly, perhaps less so. Surely, this son would be a king among princes, a dragon among elephants!

The wound on Jin Mu’s thigh closed in the span of a few breaths, leaving no trace. He set his robe in order and extended a hand to Tu Zhe, his face radiating warmth. “My son, come to your father...”

Tu Zhe looked up at him, puzzled. “Father?”

Jin Mu smiled. “When a celestial prince is born, he knows his origin, his abode, and his destination. My son, do you not know where you have come to?”

Tch, I really have nothing to say to you.

Tu Zhe was annoyed. How would I know the Ancestor Chi You would knock me out and send me here with a single punch? Origin, abode, destination—that’s just past, present, and future, isn’t it? You think I’m some immortal who can divine fate?

Wait—wasn’t I already an immortal now?

Though Tu Zhe felt no filial piety, the kindness and sincerity in Jin Mu’s eyes stirred memories of his parents from his previous life, warming him and softening his resistance. He frowned. “So... I’m your son? Then... where’s my mother?”

Jin Mu’s smile faltered as he exchanged a glance with his brother Jin Si. This was odd—a son unaware of his mother’s identity? Among celestial princes, this had never occurred.

Unable to make sense of it, Jin Mu bent down carefully, affirming, “You have no mother. You were born from my knee, as are all celestial princes on Mount Sumeru. No mothers—only fathers.”

A long, sharp intake of breath.

To be reborn, and not even have a mother? Tu Zhe was beyond shocked.

Jin Mu asked, “So you remember where you came from?”

Tu Zhe gave a dry laugh. “That I do know. I’m from Earth—from that southern continent you call Jambudvipa. The place is called China, just a few decades into its founding. You wouldn’t know it. You sleep, it’s founded—sleep again, it’s gone. Never mind...”

So you know your origin, but how could you not know you’d be reborn as our son or nephew? This was peculiar. The Jin brothers pondered in silence, not daring to press further, lest they upset the child—who, from the outset, showed not a trace of fear.

With a hint of flattery, Jin Mu asked, “Son, do you remember your name from your past life?”

Tu Zhe nodded, brow furrowed in thought. It seemed this place was full of mysteries yet to be unraveled. He would learn in time. For now, better to remain unfazed and adapt as needed.

He replied calmly, “My name was Tu Zhe—a butchered scholar from Peking University. Speaking like a Beijing native, stubborn as a mule—that’s me, I suppose...”

The Jin brothers stared at him, unable to fathom the connection between butchery and scholarship. Yet Jin Mu cared little for his son’s irreverent tone—he considered it a mark of character. His own son, should he not be unique? To remain unflustered even before the collapse of Mount Sumeru—that’s my boy. Who had ever seen such composure in a newborn celestial prince?

But it was vital that outsiders not discover his ignorance of his destiny, lest someone take advantage.

Jin Mu sighed, “Son, you remember your past life, but you’d best invent your own story for this one and the next. Your father and uncle may be called lesser Celestial Kings, but we hail from the Eastern Heavens. You know the Twenty-eight Mansions? The Dipper Dog? That’s your grandfather. Our family holds little sway here. Make up a credible tale for yourself, will you?”

Tch, Tu Zhe was no fool—he gleaned much from these words and the stories they implied.

His eyes narrowed slightly, and he nodded in silence.

Jin Si straightened, clearing his throat with a show of authority. “Tu Zhe, is it? I am your uncle. If anyone gives you trouble here, come to me—I’ll see you right.”

Tu Zhe nearly laughed aloud. Oh, please. If you were so powerful, would my “adopted” father have spoken so humbly? Hmph...

Still, he was his uncle—his new flesh and blood from the Jin family, after all. Independent as his spirit might be, his body was now theirs.

He nodded politely, calling him “Uncle,” which made Jin Si flush with embarrassment. This boy was not easily fooled—plainly, he did not believe his uncle would be of much help.

Tu Zhe then offered a formal bow to Jin Mu, uncertain of proper etiquette in this strange place, but doing as seemed fit. “Respected Father, your son Tu Zhe pays his respects...”

Good grief, this sounded like some operatic farce. Had he ever been so pretentious?

Jin Mu was delighted, laughing heartily and voicing his approval again and again.

By this time, the little dog Yema had finished circling the hall, having criticized and belittled every ornament, and now darted over, exclaiming, “Oh my, Rascal Bro’s dad, you’re a Celestial King and yet live in such a shabby place...”

Before he could finish, he suddenly shrieked as if he’d spotted a pile of dung, clapped his paws over his eyes, and cried, “Ahhh! Rascal Bro, you’re too indecent! Why is your... your thing so enormous, and just hanging out there? You’re violating my innocent eyes—ahhh!”

Tu Zhe, startled, at last looked down at himself—and nearly lost his composure.

Damn, could this be called “that thing”? Even limp and lifeless, its length was terrifying. If not more, at least three to five hundred meters. This wasn’t a “thing”—it was a dragon!

He couldn’t help but raise a hand to measure—his hand alone stretched at least fifteen hundred meters. Proportionally, it wasn’t bad. Wicked thoughts filled his mind: in his past life, if Americans saw such a monstrous thing, Pfizer would go bankrupt—Viagra would never sell again.

Still, he dared not dawdle, hastily covering himself and turning to his so-called father. “Say, Celestial King Father, do you have anything like a suit, a Zhongshan jacket, or even one of those long robes like Lisa or Kong Yiji wears? Honestly, your son is a bit ashamed to tarnish your shining image.”

Jin Mu, though perplexed by the odd requests, understood he wanted clothing. With a wave of his massive hand, a golden light enveloped Tu Zhe, forming a long golden robe. Tu Zhe looked himself over and found it satisfactory, though the lack of underwear left him feeling rather exposed.

The little dog Yema peeked through his claws, and seeing Tu Zhe decently covered, flew to his chest and hung there, grumbling, “Rascal Bro, your family sure is poor—good luck finding a girlfriend, hee hee...”

Before Tu Zhe could reply, Jin Mu let out a groan. Tu Zhe turned his head.

Good heavens—Tu Zhe was speechless.

Jin Mu had lifted his robe again, revealing a massive leg, where another lump was swelling rapidly at the knee.

Jin Si, green with envy, cried out, “Brother, this one’s mine when it’s born! If you don’t let me, I’ll never forgive you...”