Chapter 147: The Kitchen God Wants to Snitch

Spring rain is as precious as oil.

The common people were praying for this rain, hoping it would last longer and fall heavier so that all the grains in the fields could grow vigorously.

Cao Kong, however, sent a wind right at the moment when the seeds of the Eight Winds were blossoming.

Call it a wind, but it was actually a combination of wind and rain, brimming with spiritual essence and charm, brought forth by the communion between Cao Kong's divine power and heaven and earth.

It strongly evoked the verse: "Following the wind, it steals into the night; moistening things in silence, it is fine and soft."

This wind and rain originated from Hanyin Mountain, moistening every variety of landscape within the mountain, causing the various spirits of the mountains to involuntarily close their eyes and stick out their tongues in delight.

All the vegetation in the mountains grew because of this; after a single rain, Hanyin Mountain would surely give birth to many more spirits and monsters.

Meanwhile, within the Kingdom of Qindao.

In the city, the light drizzle moistened the streets like sweet cream. Gazing afar, the spring scenery was intoxicating, and flowers and grasses grew wildly at this moment.

In the fields, ripples gently swelled, and tiny droplets dampened the fragrant dust. All grains sprouted and all insects hummed—come autumn, it would undoubtedly be a bountiful harvest.

Scholars and literati, gazing upon this spring rain, felt their minds intoxicated and their poetic inspiration surge. They unfolded their Xuan paper, took up their brushes, and ground their ink, eager to compose verses.

Yet in the end, most of them left only two characters behind: "Good rain..."

Those lacking in culture were simply like this.

Husi and the other three were currently idle, strolling leisurely through the city as the four spirit foxes under the True Monarch of Calamity Rescue.

The little fellows possessed a high sense of self-awareness and pride. Even though the Kingdom of Qindao had always enjoyed a peaceful atmosphere, they still tirelessly patrolled the city every day.

Moreover, despite Cao Kong's repeated admonitions that they should primarily manage matters concerning spirits and demons while trying their best not to meddle in mortal affairs, whenever they heard that someone's cat or dog was lost, or a family member had fallen ill, they still couldn't help but step in to help.

Naturally, they did this without revealing their divine presence, assisting silently from behind the scenes.

Yet, they could not stop the people of Qindao from having an excessively fervent faith in the True Monarch of Calamity Rescue. Whenever any joyous or auspicious event occurred, or when misfortune turned into fortune,

the people would close their eyes, make a Daoist salute, and proclaim aloud, "Thanks to the manifestation of the True Monarch of Calamity Rescue!"

It was much like Buddhist devotees chanting "Namo Amitabha" and thanking the Buddha.

One might say that if the Kingdom of Qindao possessed ten units of incense offerings, the True Monarch of Calamity Rescue alone claimed eight, the four foxes took one, and the remaining one was shared among all the other deities.

As the human vitality of the Kingdom of Qindao grew increasingly flourishing, various local deities such as Earth Gods and Hearth Gods gradually came to station themselves in the city; the Hearth God was one of them.

When he first arrived, seeing the thriving human population, he thought he had landed a lucrative post. Soon, however, he discovered that he received only a pitifully tiny sliver of incense, filling him with profound sorrow as he spent his days racking his brain over how to boost his incense offerings.

The unusual rain before his eyes gave him an idea.

Being a minor deity of fortune and virtue, he possessed a modest amount of cultivation. Seeing him step down from the offerings on a hearth and reach out to catch a drop of spring rain, joy appeared on his face. This rain possessed spirituality; it must have been man-made.

Since it was man-made, he could report it to the Heavenly Court. After all, he also shouldered the responsibility of surveillance. Besides, the Jade Emperor had long since designated the four seasons, hot and cold spells, winds, rains, thunders, and lightnings for the next forty-nine years.

In truth, this rain was a benevolent one. If he turned a blind eye and did not report it to the Heavenly Court, the Heavenly Court would remain ignorant, and nothing would come of it.

Those who usually met with disaster were those who violated the Heavenly Court's explicit quotas on rainfall, defying imperial edicts and committing dereliction of duty, or those who were reported by others.

However, the Hearth God was simply too eager for incense rewards, to the point that his greed muddled his mind. He cared little whether the rain was good or bad; he saw only his own prospective merit.

Thus, the deity fell into deep contemplation: should he go to the Heavenly Court now, or wait until the Lesser New Year to ascend to heaven for his annual debriefing?

...

Back in Hanyin Mountain, Cao Kong looked at the divine power seed in the wooden manor—no, at this moment, it should be called a divine power flower—and his smile was exceptionally radiant.

He had finally achieved the blossoming of his divine power, reaching the realm of intermediate mastery.

The profundity of this state was truly difficult to put into words. In the future, whenever he wielded the Eight Winds, it would be equivalent to heaven and earth themselves wielding the Eight Winds, utterly natural and seamless.

If he commanded the Mingshu Wind, it would cause vegetation to sprout and flourish, and he could summon it daily to nourish the plants.

If he commanded the Changhe Wind, it would cause all things to wither and decay, truly resembling the exercise of the authority of heaven and earth.

All the above could be termed substantial winds, and he could also transform substantial winds into illusory winds.

Causing the Eight Winds to become pernicious, turning them into pathogenic winds that invaded the five internal organs and triggered illnesses—this was known as the illusory wind.

The illusory wind was far too vicious and sinister, so he rarely resorted to it casually.

As for its other mysteries, they would require slow contemplation and exploration over time.

A few days later, many spirits and monsters within the mountain achieved the Dao and gained spiritual intelligence. Cao Kong sent the two deer and crane spirits to subdue those minor demons and teach them human etiquette.

One day, a spirit with a human upper body and a snake's tail was climbing the mountain.

"Master Cao is truly formidable! The spiritual energy of Hanyin Mountain grows thicker year by year. I really want to stay here and never leave. If I could live in this mountain for a few decades, I would definitely be able to transform completely into human form."

The snake spirit muttered to herself; she was none other than Wuqing, who had come to deliver a letter on behalf of the Willow Immortal.

Ignorant little monsters secretly watched Wuqing from the bushes, and Wuqing smiled back, her eyes full of envy. Some demons truly won at the starting line the moment they were born.

"Brother Lu, I am Wuqing, here to deliver a letter to Mountain Master Cao," Wuqing said happily upon seeing a figure teaching the minor demons.

Lu Mingming recognized Wuqing as well and smiled, "Wait a moment, eat some spiritual fruits, and I will go inform the Mountain Master."

With that, he instructed the minor demons in the mountain to bring spiritual fruits to Wuqing, causing the green snake spirit to swallow hard repeatedly. It was truly brimming with spiritual energy; she was growing increasingly reluctant to return home.

Cao Kong also came out to collect the letter, which Wuqing respectfully handed over.

Seeing that this minor demon still had not transformed into human form, Cao Kong said to Lu Mingming, "Go fetch a cloud-mist spirit orange."

Lu Mingming nodded in acknowledgment.

Cao Kong opened the letter and read it. It stated that the Willow Immortal's foundations had fully recovered, and she scheduled their joint departure for the coming spring to invite Cao Kong to provide protection along the way.

Having finished reading the letter and seeing that Lu Mingming had brought over the cloud-mist spirit fruit, Cao Kong gestured for him to hand it to Wuqing. Having crossed paths with this little green snake years ago, he was not stingy about gifting her a spirit fruit.

When Wuqing saw Lu Mingming hand the cloud-mist spirit orange to her, just a single sniff made the demonic energy throughout her body surge; she knew instantly it was a priceless treasure.

"This, this, Mountain Master Cao, this is too precious!"

Wuqing rubbed her hands together. Despite saying this, her eyes remained fixed on the cloud-mist spirit orange.

Finding it amusing, Cao Kong smiled and said, "Immortal Willow didn't just send you here solely to deliver this letter, did she?"

Wuqing nodded repeatedly.

"Give the remaining letters to me, and I will blow a wind to deliver them for you. I'll have Lu Mingming find a residence for you; you can stay here for a few days and return only after you've finished eating the spirit orange."

As those words fell, Wuqing looked at Cao Kong with tearful eyes, giving Cao Kong a scalp-tingling sensation for fear that she might blurt out something like "having drifted homeless for half a life."

He then requested the remaining envelopes, blew a single breath upon them, and dispatched them respectively to Zhujie Mountain, Baotou Mountain, and Funiu Mountain.

About ten days later, Wuqing swallowed the spirit orange and successfully transformed into human form, her appearance quite refined and delicate. When she left, she looked back three times with every step, reluctant to part.

After Wuqing departed, Cao Kong contemplated setting off for Tengyou Mountain a month in advance when the time came.

Hanyin Mountain remained mostly tranquil, and Cao Kong continued his quiet cultivation. Aside from his divine power and cultivation base, he spent much of his time meditating on the Wind and Fire Dual Wheels, studying their transformations.

Ever since his Eight Winds divine power had blossomed, his perception of wind-attribute forces had grown even sharper.

About half a year later, Cao Kong gazed at the wind wheel, which continually aggregated and dispersed, perceiving a certain rhythm and regularity within it.

Drawing upon his own comprehension of the Dao of Wind, he grasped this pattern and uttered softly, "Return."

Immediately, the wind wheel contracted, presenting a phenomenon reminiscent of returning wind and reversing fire, operating counter to its own natural laws in a retrograde motion.