Heaven didn't look much different from hell, if all you were paying attention to was the landscape. Nobody would mistake the one for the other, though. The colors were brighter, the scents sweeter, and the light... There was no light like this anywhere, Wen decided, not even at sunset just of the coast from Měijing. Heaven was worth attaining to, he decided, if only because you couldn't help but feel better here than anywhere else he'd been.
There was a gate-house in front of the god's mansion, and though it was tiny it was still the most dazzling building Wen had ever been this close to. Walking up to the window, he rapped his knuckles against the sill. Should have demanded a fan from that judge, he thought. "Yes?" a squeaky voice said. It was more of a demand than a question.
Wen slapped his pass down on the sill. "We are making inquiries," he said, hoping he sounded suitably authoritative and peering over the sill in an attempt to find the origin of the voice. "If you can assist us, fine. If you can't, we would speak to your master. Or mistress."
"My master is the Fifty-Eighth Year God," the squeaky voice said. The owner of the voice, Wen saw, was a small, furry creature with dark, beady eyes and prominent front teeth. With longer ears it would have been a rabbit, though longer ears would have made it impossible for the creature to wear the tiny court official's hat it bore. "We are in temporary residence here because my master is responsible for the current year. And this"—the creature hopped onto the sill and pointed a tiny, furry hand at Wen's pass—"is from hell and not valid here."
"Allow me to point out," Wen said, "that this pass says 'and will allow him free passage to wherever he needs to go' in order to investigate the matter I am investigating. It most emphatically does not say 'wherever he needs to go in hell'; it does not specify a location, and as such it applies everywhere I deem it necessary to."
"That is not what it means!"
"It is, however, what it says." Wen was conscious of Fengzi's smile behind him. "Now: are you going to help me, as this pass instructs you to, or do I have to discuss this with your master?"
"My master is not at home," the guard-creature squeaked. "He is attending to his duties in the Middle Kingdom. And anyway, he is much too busy to have noticed"—the creature studied the pass—"a wandering hungry ghost, no matter what hell might think."
"In that case," said Wen, retrieving the pass and tucking it into his sleeve, "I will leave you to your important duties. If you will tell me one thing."
"I know nothing!"
"Surely you know the name of the god who lives in the next mansion," Wen said, pointing up the winding path, "and can write a brief note of introduction for me."
"Oh, said the creature. "Well, if that's all you need..." A tiny brush appeared in its hand, and a moment later Wen held a slip of paper slightly larger than his thumb.
"Someone else will be able to read this?"
"The right sorts of people will be able to read it. Good day." Shutters came down, hard.
"I suppose we're finished here," Wen said. He handed the scrap of paper to Number One Grandfather. "To whom have we the honor of addressing our next visit?"
"Oh, this is interesting," Number One Grandfather said. "If the gate-keeper wasn't lying—and why would he lie to us; this is heaven, after all—then the next mansion belongs to Fu Xi." Seeing the confusion that Wen felt, he added, "Fu Xi is the Ancestor God."
"Does that mean he's the god of ancestors, or the ancestor of the other gods?"
"I've never been too certain of that," said Number One Grandfather. "My guess is that he's a bit of both."
"Fu Xi is the god who brought civilization to the Black Haired People," Fengzi said. "That's us, Wen: the Chinese. He's the brother of Nüwa, the mother goddess who made the first humans."
"I am less than
happy with that one," said Number One Grandfather. "I hope she's not visiting her brother;
I'd hate to have to be as rude as I'm feeling."
"I don't
understand," Wen said, "and I'm not sure that it matters."
"The
story," Fengzi said, "is that Nüwa made the very first humans very
carefully, by hand, but eventually she got bored with the work."
"No doubt it
was very repetitious," Wen said.
"She has my sympathy; I'm sure gods don't like dull piece-work any
more than I do."
"Perhaps,"
said Fengzi with a thin smile. "At
any rate, she switched from handiwork to mass-production, and just molded
people from clay in large quantities.
And those who are descended from the very first, hand-made, humans are
blessed with good fortune and become prosperous and successful. The descendants of the mass-produced humans
are fated to be less lucky."
"Guess the line
of our descent," Number One Grandfather grumbled.
"I don't think
I have to," Wen said. "But
sometimes we're permitted to make our own luck, Grandfather. Let's go visit the Ancestor God."
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