The dark and ancient stones build an endless deep space, with each stone having a different shape which seamlessly joins together, indestructible.
He sat cross-legged on the protruding massive rectangular stone platform, his silver scales shimmering intermittently. He parted his lips slightly and exhaled a snake-like white cloud that enveloped his injured right shoulder.
A river, winding into a vast circle, surrounded the stone platform in the middle. The sound of babbling water caused leisurely and crisp echoes in the vast space. In the colorless water, groups of phosphorescent fish swam freely, their numbers incalculable, seemingly infinite. Each fish displayed five colors: black, white, green, red, and blue. As they swam, it looked like a long rainbow, which was quite beautiful.
He breathed slowly, the cloud he exhaled fluctuating in density, and the arrow wound on his shoulder gradually healed.
"It's better to sleep."
High up there, someone spoke.
He opened his eyes and looked up.
His "sky" is always black, devoid of sunshine, wind, or rain, only pieces of hard stones.
"Bring back what's mine so that the world can sleep peacefully." He lowered his head, appearing to talk to himself.
"What if it's not retrieved?" the voice above asked again.
"Who knows me better than you," he said, "You know everything about me—what I love, what I hate, what I must abide by. Why ask me."
"You have the status of a god and the heart of a man, but you're more stubborn than any stone here." The voice sighed.
"You too." He closed his eyes and sneered, "Zimiao's Water God Arrow is one of the three things in this world that can hurt me, as you know. I almost couldn't come back. That little girl is actually far more impressive than me, knowing to borrow a knife to kill someone. Hehe."
There was a long silence.
"Where's your scimitar?" the voice rang out again.
"I gave it to someone when I was coming back. That child saved me." He touched his newly healed wound.
"Should I say that the child is lucky or unlucky? If he can pick up your scimitar, he is doomed to embark on a road of no return. Who is he?"
"He only said his surname is Zhong. There's something in his blood that I've never seen before," he frowned, "Let's avoid irrelevant chatter. Leave! Since you left, don't come back, not even with your disembodied voice."
Once again, silence fell around him.
He must have lived for nearly ten thousand years, perhaps even more.
In his lifetime, he hadn't seen the true sky many times, and had never basked in genuine sunshine. He was both emperor and servant of the underground and darkness.
No, he had seen the sunshine. On that day long, long ago, he risked turning to ashes and arrived at the sea, and in her figure rushing towards him, in her lively eyes, he saw the living sunshine.
He adored her eyes so much that he wished he could shrink into a grain of sand and live in her eyes.
If he could, he would prefer those eyes to never shed tears, only the sound of blossoming flowers and the joy illuminated by sunlight.
So when she cried and pleaded for his help, even if it meant forfeiting his own life, he would stop her tears.
The human world at that time was in a state of constant warfare and unending slaughter. Human beings used the most brutal and ruthless ways to seize even the slightest hint of advantage: food, wealth, territory, and power.
These beings who were created by the Supreme Goddess Nüwa and belonged to the earth angered the Emperor of Heaven again and again. Yet, he still gave the human race chances. He dispatched his subordinates to the human world to teach them to use their strength for farming rather than war, to teach them to treat others with courtesy rather than burning, killing, and looting, and to teach them to appreciate all the beautiful things rather than wasting their lives.
He hoped humans would change.
But after yet another devastating war, where corpses littered the ground and blood flowed like rivers, the Emperor of Heaven was thoroughly disappointed.
The Emperor of Heaven commanded: Use floods and plagues to cleanse the sins of humans.
Only true death can make the people come to realize.
She came to him, begging him to save her village when the flood came.
She knew he had this ability.
Of course he agreed, without even asking why.
He said, I can safeguard the village, but I will fall asleep. Can you come wake me up after the flood recedes?
She promised him that she would definitely come back to wake him, for sure.
Satisfied, he left.
The flood of punishment came as scheduled, and humans paid a heavy price for their actions, countless bodies floating in the water. When the flood receded, the survivors also had to face the onslaught of plagues.
Such punishment finally made some of the living understand that nothing can be better than being well and happy.
He kept his promise and protected the village in his deep sleep. Neither flood nor plague could approach it.
But, she did not return.
The message the Emperor of Heaven wanted to convey to him was: Since you like going against the heavens so much, from now on, you must protect this place just as you are doing now, for all eternity, never leaving even an inch.
Then, a seal fell from the sky.
He fell back asleep.
Without getting angry, he would continue to wait, waiting for her to return and wake him up.
Actually, whether there was that seal or not, the result would be the same.
For as long as she didn't return, he wouldn't leave. He would stay here, guarding the land she entrusted to him.
He is the most trustworthy and hates breaking his word.
A thousand years, another thousand years, he woke up once every thousand years, but never by her call. That seal would prick him once every thousand years, forcing him to awaken.
Every time he woke up, he would be disappointed, then, embracing the wait, he would enter the next sleep.
He heaved a long sigh and moved his shoulder.
Standing up, he looked at the world that belonged to him and muttered to himself, "Those who break their promises must not be tolerated."
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