This was an ancient stone temple, its style so rustic that its age was difficult to pinpoint.
"I don't know much about ancient architecture, but this stone temple seems to date back to the Sui or Tang Dynasty," Yue Cen said, being pushed by Ke Xun to the temple entrance. Sunlight streamed into the temple, revealing a stone altar, but the statues were empty.
The temple, hidden by trees, was quite strange. Ke Xun was about to go in alone to investigate when Yue Cen said, "Let's go in and take a look." His voice seemed fearless.
No wonder the painting studio chose Yue Cen for the painting; he was truly a rare talent.
The temple had no real entrance, only a faded stone tablet standing not far from the doorway. Even if the two of them went in together, there shouldn't be any danger. In other words, even if Ke Xun went in alone and encountered danger, Yue Cen, in his wheelchair, probably wouldn't be able to help much.
Rather than hesitating, they decided to go together.
The temple was very cool, with sunlight piercing through the darkness, causing countless specks of light to dance in the light.
Behind the altar used for sacrifices was a stone platform, clearly a place to enshrine a deity, but the identity of that deity remained unknown.
Yue Cen cranked the wheelchair wheels, observing the temple, his gaze now lingering on the stone platforms on either side of the altar.
Ke Xun also noticed these platforms: "The central platform is for enshrining a deity, so what are these platforms on either side for?"
"They should also be for enshrining deities," Yue Cen said.
Ke Xun had only visited temples as a child, and upon careful recollection, some temples did indeed seem to be arranged this way: "So, this temple enshrines more than one deity?"
"I think there are at least five, perhaps even seven," Yue Cen guessed based on the size of the stone platforms.
"But why are all the places for the deities empty? Where have all the deities gone?" Ke Xun considered himself to have seen many paintings and encountered ghosts such as the paper figures of Li Family Village, the vengeful ghosts of the tenement buildings, and the phantoms of the Oak Mountain Research Institute, but he had rarely interacted with deities.
"That's about it for the temple. Let's talk outside." Yue Cen turned his wheelchair around, intending to leave the temple first.
Ke Xun followed, pushing Yue Cen out of the temple. Their conversation inside had echoed heavily, as if someone had repeated their words, making them uneasy.
Outside, the familiar natural scenery continued. The two stopped temporarily under a large tree beside the temple.
"Xiao Ke, have you encountered any deities in your previous paintings?" Yue Cen asked.
"We met one. It was a god who embodied both good and evil. When we left the painting, we finally saw the god's benevolent side." Ke Xun was referring to Black Corpse Heaven from "Faith."
After listening to Ke Xun's brief explanation of the painting "Faith," Yue Cen felt it had nothing in common with their current world: "We found this place because of the moss, but the stone platform in the temple and the stone steps under the eaves are very dry; we didn't find any trace of moss."
Ke Xun tried to piece together a line of thought: "When we first arrived, we watched a shadow puppet show called 'The Rat's Wedding.' Your leg felt uncomfortable then, and after daybreak, you found it petrified and covered in moss. To find the source of the moss, you came here and found this temple. The temple is empty, and the granary we just saw is also empty. The granary is empty because the rats ate all the grain; the temple is empty, so why? Where are the gods? Is there any connection between these gods and 'The Rat's Wedding'?"
Yue Cen listened attentively to Ke Xun's words, a few flashes of inspiration crossing her mind, but she lacked sufficient evidence.
Then Ke Xun said, "Worshiping rats? Didn't you just say that 'The Rat's Wedding' is actually a folk activity of worshiping rats? Shouldn't the 'worshiping rats' be a kind of sacrifice? Could it be that what's being offered here is actually..."
a rat?
This statement made both of them a little uncomfortable.
Yue Cen said, "Although I haven't figured out the reason, I still have some understanding of traditional New Year customs. I've never heard of this kind of sacrifice before. It's really not in line with tradition."
Ke Xun also thought that his previous statement was a bit absurd. If this painting was known for its absurdity, it would be understandable, but this one was themed around traditional New Year paintings, so it should focus on Chinese traditional New Year customs.
"Sister Cen, let's go take a look at that big stone tablet. Although the writing is blurry, we can still vaguely make out some strokes." Ke Xun pushed Yue Cen to approach the temple entrance again.
The stone tablet was very tall, almost blocking the temple entrance. Because of its age, there were many deep cracks on the stone tablet, and many of the characters on it were illegible.
From the arrangement of the characters, it could be vaguely seen that it seemed to be a poem with four characters per line.
"It's a four-character poem." Yue Cen carefully examined it, noticing a possible "咸" (xian) in the last line.
"A four-character poem? Is there any significance to this kind of poem?" Ke Xun also recognized the character "彝" (yi), though its form was complex, it was arguably the most complete character on the entire stele.
"Four-character poems are one of the earliest poetic forms in ancient China. The *Classic of Poetry* is primarily composed of four-character lines. Going further back, four-character lines can be found in ancient folk songs and the *Book of Changes*." Yue Cen's gaze swept over every character on the stele, but he could only identify four or five:
"维" (wei), "鼎" (ding), "樽彝" (zunyi), "灵" (ling), and "咸" (xian).
The most important title and the opening line were completely obscured by a horizontal crack on the stele.
"If I had seen this poem before, I would have guessed it was about an ancient sacrificial ceremony. But since we started researching things related to the Ru Hua (入画), I think this poem is definitely not that simple." Ke Xun's gaze fell on the two characters he was most familiar with—"维" (wei) and "鼎" (ding).
Earthly branches, nine cauldrons.
Could this poem be related to Ru Hua?
Yue Cen was writing something on his palm with his finger while muttering to himself. The two of them had long since lost their bags when they came to this world, and the paper and pens were nowhere to be found.
Ke Xun noticed that Yue Cen seemed familiar with the poem, so he picked up a twig and squatted down on the muddy ground: "Sister Cen, you recite it, and I'll write it down. If you don't know how to write a character, just tell me the stroke order."
Yue Cen was very impressed with Ke Xun's quick thinking: "I have indeed seen this poem before, but whether I can recite it completely is another matter. I once participated in the filming of a documentary about ancient customs, and it just so happened that a set of Tang Dynasty 'Suburban Temple Songs' was used in it. This poem is the welcoming poem for the gods in it, which needed to be recited by the young actor in charge of recitation at the time. But because the words and phrases were quite obscure and difficult for children to understand, I basically taught him to recite it word by word."
Ke Xun didn't have time to marvel at the coincidence. At this moment, holding the twig, he said: "Great, you recite it, and I'll write it down!"
Yue Cen then recited from memory: "Suburban Temple Songs · Wax Gods Music · Welcoming the Gods."
Ke Xun: "'Wax Gods'? Which 'wax' is it?"
"The wax of candles." Yue Cen said this and couldn't help but look at the scene inside the temple again, as if she had thought of something.
Ke Xun had finished writing down the series of questions: "My handwriting is ugly, please bear with it."
"The handwriting is not ugly, it can be seen that it was written by a broad-minded person," Yue Cen commented, and continued reciting: "
The Eight Waxing Sacrifice is held, and all things are worshipped together."
"Above, the heavens reach their zenith; below, the earth's boundaries
extend. The sacrificial vessels flow with fragrance; the wine cups offer exquisite sacrifices.
All spirits and beings yearn to come and dwell
here." With Yue Cen's prompting and corrections, Ke Xun finally managed to write down the poem in its entirety.
The few characters on the stone tablet that could be recognized, based on their location, confirmed that this four-character poem was indeed the "Suburban Temple Songs: The Music of the Hundred Gods of Waxing: Welcoming the Gods" that Yue Cen had recited.
"It seems I underestimated things before. Actually, this temple enshrines eight deities," Yue Cen said.
"Eight? Could it be the 'Eight Waxing Gods' mentioned in this poem?" Ke Xun asked.
"Yes, this welcoming poem begins with the Eight Wax Gods, hence the opening line, 'The Eight Wax Gods open the sacrifice, all things are worshipped together.'"
Ke Xun looked at the poem he had written on the ground with a twig and sensitively found the two words that had previously concerned him the most: "The 'wei' here is not the earthly dimension, but the celestial dimension, and the 'ding' here should also be something used to hold sacrificial food."
"Perhaps these two words just happened to appear here. In fact, the two lines 'Above reaches the celestial dimension, below reaches the cosmic dimension' refer to all things in heaven and earth, which matches the previous line 'all things are worshipped together.'"
Ke Xun temporarily put aside the ultimate question of 'entering the painting' and focused his attention on the present: "The Eight Wax Gods, who are they?"
Yue Cen frowned: "I may not be able to give a complete list. If Director Hua comes in, then…"
More words were useless; everything else was a false question.
Yue Cen tried to recall the details about the Eight Waxing Gods: "The Eight Waxing Gods are ancient deities related to agriculture. The 'rat infestation' we mentioned earlier was actually under their jurisdiction. When people worshipped the Eight Waxing Gods, they were often praying for 'no insects in the fields, no rats in the granaries, a bountiful harvest, and a peaceful and prosperous life.' These eight Waxing Gods are—Xian Se; Si Se; Nong; Mao Hu; Fang; Shui Yong; and Chong Kun."
Ke Xun: It sounds like they're speaking Chinese characters, but why can't I understand a single word except for 'Mao Hu' and 'Chong Kun'?
Ke Xun: "Um, isn't there one missing? Sister Cen, you just mentioned seven, right?"
Yue Cen: "Yes, there's one more, the name is very complicated and difficult to understand, it's called 'You Biao Zhu'."
"Wh-what? What does 'you' mean?"
"You Biao Zhu," Yue Cen slowly repeated, "each of these three characters has its own meaning. 'You' refers to a farmer's thatched hut, 'Biao' refers to the edge of a field, and 'Zhu' refers to a well. In the collections written by people from the Ming and Qing dynasties, there are further explanations about these three characters: 'Where the markers are placed along the edges of fields, a post station is built, where the field supervisors live to oversee the farming, hence the name You Biao Zhu'."
"...The explanations from later generations are even more obscure, who exactly is this person?"
"It mentions 'Tianjun,' which refers to the official in charge of managing slave farming during the Western Zhou Dynasty in China, what later generations called 'supervisors of farming.'"
Ke Xun finally understood about 70-80% of it: "Speaking of which, the gods worshipped in ancient times were also very ancient. There were officials supervising farming, insects, and even cats and tigers. That meow last night probably wasn't an ordinary cat, right? Could it be a manifestation of the cat-tiger god?"
"Very likely," Yue Cen said.
"What kind of gods are Xianse and Sise that you mentioned before? These two are listed first, so they must be gods of relatively high status."
"Yes, I think these two should be the gods enshrined in the main shrine in the temple: Xianse is Shennong; Sise is Houji."