Fanfiction3: A-Li's Three Lives, Three Worlds - Chapter 28 (Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms 三生三世十里桃花)

Chapter 28

written by LigayaCroft
edited by Panda and Kakashi

Before meeting his peers and teacher at Shuǐ Zhǎozé, Dong Hua had steadily built a reputation for himself as the warrior from the Blue Sea who turned out to be the greatest fighter the Immortal world had ever seen. It was a reputation he had built not from learned texts nor instructor-led fighting sessions but out of the strength of his fists. It was understandable then that before Shuǐ Zhǎozé, Dong Hua barely knew how to read nor write, and had been a far throw from the sophisticated, educated mystic he had evolved himself to in the years after he had abdicated the throne to Tianjun.

He could still remember how intimidated he had felt when he first stepped into the school. He remembered taking a deep breath before he walked inside the gates, feeling out of place even though he wore the same white uniform as the others. It was rumored that Fuxi’s son himself would be a classmate— one who was already well-versed in philosophy, music, war strategy and arts.

“I bet Fuxi’s son is a deformed, ugly cripple,” one of his few good friends, the Demon Ancestor, Shao Wan, mumbled as they drank a couple of nights before classes started. “And he built Shuǐ Zhǎozé so his son could have a social life,” she choked on her liquor, coughed, and some of the liquid sprayed on the side of Dong Hua’s right cheek. “To foster peace, my ass.”

After seeing the son of their Creators with his own eyes, it was apparent that Shao Wan may have been right on her latter statement but could not be further off the mark with the first. Mo Yuan was a handsome lad, even by Celestial standards.

As the days rolled into weeks and weeks into months, Dong Hua found himself wishing he could write and paint as excellently as Mo Yuan so he picked up his brush and taught himself to wield it as gracefully at a punishing pace. It was the last thing that ever unsettled him for many a millennia, and only after he conquered his deficiency did he reach nirvana.

As much as Dong Hua loved reading, he had also maintained his deep love for writing. In fact, he maintained diaries— something his best friend Lian Song never failed to tease him about. But alas, Lian Song was younger. However, his friend should understand by now that one didn’t live to be as old as they do and not worry about missing on details.

Dong Hua loved details.

It was not easy to go through 350’000 years’ worth of texts but after 5’000 years of poring over his diaries from his time at Shuǐ Zhǎozé to present, Dong Hua was a bit disappointed to admit that there was nothing out of the ordinary that jumped out from his records.

But still, like a fish bone caught in one’s throat, Dong Hua had a niggling suspicion that there was something he was missing.

Hence, after leaving Wuji Island, Dong Hua separated from his companions and made a side trip to his palace in the Blue Sea.

It was to be noted that the Blue Sea was not exactly a sea, but a holy spring as large as half the North Sea flanked from all sides by continuous mountain ranges. The blessed water within allowed plants and flowers to grow in it as they would on land.

His trusted aide, Zhonglin Xianguan, had already gone ahead of him to prepare the palace for his arrival. His stone palace used to be a desolate residence, but ever since his marriage to Bai Feng Jiu, his lovely wife had transformed the area around it into a thriving garden and thus, he now looked forward to every visit.

However, Dong Hua didn’t go straight to the palace upon arrival. Instead, he cloud-jumped to the mountain ranges to the western side of the Blue Sea. It was here that he first gained consciousness, and so it was here that he had recorded his first thoughts and observations about the world he had then lived in.

Since he had not properly learnt to write until Shuǐ Zhǎozé, Dong Hua had spent many a millennia drawing into the mountains’ rock face. Using a mixture of red ochre, animal glue and blood, he painted crude drawings about his history and victories, as well as the people he had met along the way. Because as much as Dong Hua didn’t want to remember his hard past, he was also certain that he didn’t want to forget.

Dong Hua floated midway up the mountain’s height and looked at his ancient paintings up and down. Then he settled to contemplate and remember what each figure meant. It was hard work but he had time.

Plenty of it, in fact.

But, there was no need to go to such extremes. The blood used in his drawings came from his own, and so it was just a matter of summoning a slightly-complicated blood magick technique that barely took an immortal day.

It wasn't long before what looked like random drawings of people, animals, and things arranged themselves chronologically.

And right away, he saw the first inconsistency.

All the scrolls in the Celestial Library and all his diaries from Taichen Palace talked about the existence of four Primordial Gods — whom Dong Hua had all met — namely, Fuxi, Nüwa, Shennong and Youchao. Together, these Primordial Gods had ruled all of Second Creation until one by one they each succumbed to their great calamities and their Yuánshén [1] went back to rest in Hùndùn for all eternity.

Yet here, on one of his earliest scrawls, he recorded the same story, but this time there were several yet distinct changes made from the original story that had been taught for generations.

One, that ultimately, after 3’000 years of fighting, two Primordial Gods led the shameful defeat of the God of Chaos who had destroyed Pangu [2]’s First Creation.

Two, he had made several drawings in reference to the Primordial Gods — and they were called the August Five.

And three, for some reason, based on the stories he drew, he and the other Old Gods knew who the missing god was.

So why couldn’t he remember?

Chapter 29


1. (元神) Primordial Spirit
2. (盘古) The First Living Being and Creator of the First Created Worlds