The Heavenly Realm was a canvas of infinite majesty. Floating islands of pure jade dotted the golden clouds, each bearing the magnificent palaces of the Higher, Lesser, and the Holy Gods. They boasted pillars of woven starlight, roofs tiled with shimmering dragon scales, and gardens blooming with immortal lotuses.
And then, right at the edge of the Eastern quadrant, sat a wooden hut.
It wasn't a "hut" in a poetic, minimalist divine sense. It was just... a hut. The roof was thatched with cheap spirit-straw that leaked whenever it rained celestial dew, and the front door hung slightly off its hinges. To the other deities, it was a scandalous eyesore that ruined the heavenly aesthetic.
But to Lord Long Xiao, it was an architectural masterpiece of financial evasion.
Building a proper divine palace required an annual Heavenly Property Tax of fifty thousand merits. A hut? Zero merits. Furthermore, living in a dilapidated shack was a brilliant strategic move; if the Heavenly Council looked down and saw a pathetic hovel, they were far less likely to assign him any tedious administrative duties. It was his ultimate stronghold for avoiding responsibility.
"Unpleasant enough to avoid scrutiny." Long Xiao would say.
Inside, the decor appeared equally tragic, consisting of a single lumpy wooden bed, a mismatched tea table, and a pile of soft, albeit stolen, heavenly clouds that served as Lei's nest.
The perfect illusion.
In reality—Inside, the hut was cluttered in the way only an immortal could manage. Scrolls lay stacked in uneven piles, half‑read and half‑forgotten. A low table held cups of untouched moon‑tea, a few nether blueberries, and carved sculptures of the other Holy Gods and Goddess Ling Xing, which Lei always knocked down with his wings.
Long Xiao's bed was a cloud‑mat he had shaped himself: plush, soft, and drifting an inch above the floor. It shifted gently whenever he moved, adjusting to his mood like a loyal pet. Lei's nest sat in the corner. It was a chaotic pile of phoenix feathers, warm embers, and a cushion he insisted he didn't need but used every night, though he preferred the cloud nest.
The window overlooked the river below, framed by hanging charms that jingled softly whenever the wind passed. Most were gifts from other gods; Long Xiao had forgotten what half of them did.
Long Xiao's hut was neither grand nor divine in the traditional sense. It was perfect(to him).
The silence of the early morning was a treasure Long Xiao guarded fiercely. He was deeply entangled in a dream where the God of Wealth, Qian Shen, was handing him a mountain of free gold.
"Lord Long Xiao, for accompanying me to pay tribute to Mother Scarlet, this is a small reward from me to you. I hope it is to your satisfaction." Lord Qian smiled softly, gesturing to the heap of gold.
"Oh, you didn't have to, Lord Qian Shen." Long Xiao's eyes gleamed, fixed on the gold.
"This is—"
A sudden, deafening GONG shattered the peace, jolting him up from the dream.
"Master, why is the secondary holy bell being rung this early in the morning?" Lei asked, the ringing sound startling him so badly he fell right out of his cloud nest.
Long Xiao gritted his teeth, his curiosity briefly piqued before annoyance set in. He turned to Lei, who was now groggily rubbing his neck with a massive wing.
"What's going on, Master? It's not even dawn yet," Lei muttered, trying to make sense of the unusual occurrence.
"I don't have a clue either," Long Xiao yawned, looking out the tiny, crooked window.
"Either way, I have no interest in finding out." Long Xiao simply shrugged, pulling the thin blanket over his head and settling back into bed.