An Ping checked the address in his hand once more, seriously doubting he had the wrong place.
"Excuse me, sir," he hesitated for a long while before finally approaching a passerby. "Do you happen to know where No. 3 City West Street is?"
"No. 3? It’s right there, diagonally behind you!" The old man pointed at the building across the street. "Such a huge place—how can a young lad like you have such poor eyesight?"
An Ping was stunned. The words tumbled out of his mouth: "But that’s the City God Temple!"
"It *is* the City God Temple, No. 3 City West Street!" The old man gave him a strange look. Noticing An Ping’s school uniform, he paused. "Young man, you’re from the First High School? Shouldn't you still be in class?"
"No, the school is on break for a couple of days," An Ping explained quickly. "My teacher asked me to deliver some homework to a classmate. He’s been sick and hasn't been to class lately." He lifted the bag in his hand; it was a heavy, depressing bundle of white exam papers.
As the Academic Representative, it was only reasonable for An Ping to help a classmate with their schoolwork. He had asked for the address online, set a time, and rushed over—only to find himself staring at the gate in disbelief. Who on earth lived in a City God Temple these days?
It was currently 6:30 PM. Usually, school wouldn't have let out yet, which explained the old man’s scrutiny. He had likely seen plenty of kids skipping class to go to internet cafes, but never one skipping class to offer incense.
The old man caught sight of the test papers in the bag. "No wonder. I thought that bag of yours was an offering."
"Hardly," An Ping gave a dry laugh. If he offered the *Five-Three* test prep books as a sacrifice, even the gods would probably cough up blood.
"No. 3 City West Street, that’s the one. Right there." The old man pointed at the temple’s main gate. "Better hurry, it’ll be closing soon." He then added, looking puzzled, "Your classmate lives here? Is he a monk or something?"
An Ping wasn't sure if he lived there, let alone if he spent his time chanting sutras. Seeing the conversation veer off course, he laughed it off. "Thanks, sir! I’ll be going now!" With that, he hurried across the street.
Standing before the main gate, An Ping weighed his options but ultimately decided to head inside. *Forget it, I made an appointment. I can’t go back on my word. I’ll just go in and take a look.*
The next second, a head popped out from the security booth. "Fifty yuan for a ticket if you're visiting."
An Ping: "..."
*Wait, even Lingyin Temple only costs thirty yuan?* An Ping looked incredulously at the dilapidated gate. The red paint was peeling and crumbling, and the center was plastered with small advertisements for "Drain Cleaning," "Cheap Locksmiths," and "Hemorrhoid Remedies." Why did he have to buy a ticket just to deliver homework?
"Are you coming in or not? If not, we’re closing for the day." The guard wore a red armband and spoke with a rapid-fire cadence. "Fifty yuan. It’s a steal, you won't be cheated. This temple is hundreds of years old. Even if you just pried a brick loose and took it home, it’d be worth the price of admission..."
An Ping really didn't want to listen to a security guard lecture him on new ways to get rich. Since he was already here, he had no choice but to hold his nose and pay. "What’s your name, sir?" This guy’s silver tongue was wasted on security; he was a born marketer.
"Heh, just trying to make a living. QR code or cash?" The guard tore off a ticket and tapped his ID badge. "The name's Huang. Huang Niu."
*Great,* An Ping thought, clutching his overpriced ticket. *A literal 'Huang Niu'—a scalper.*
An Ping entered the gates in a daze. Although the City God Temple had a long history, it possessed neither ancient relics nor legendary tales. It was essentially a high-risk, dilapidated building that only saw any life during the annual temple fairs. The courtyard was deathly silent, with a massive ginkgo tree planted right in the center.
With no one around, An Ping immediately felt like he’d been played. But the entire situation was so bizarre that *not* being played would have been even stranger.
He tried calling out twice: "Mu... Student Mu?"
As expected, no one was there.
An Ping breathed a sigh of relief, the tension finally leaving his chest. To be honest, he really hadn't wanted to deliver this homework.
Or rather, he hadn't dared to.
He was the Academic Representative, and because he was easygoing, he was used to helping out in class. Delivering homework was usually no big deal, but the problem lay with the person on sick leave—the "Student Mu" he had called for.
Mu Gesheng, the kingpin of First High.
An Ping’s knowledge of the guy was mostly hearsay: he had been held back for three years, possessed extraordinary looks and fighting skills, but had abysmal grades and health. He was best known for fighting and taking sick leave.
An Ping had heard of Mu Gesheng when he first started school. They were people from two completely different worlds, but unfortunately, this "Lord Mu" had been held back so spectacularly that fate had landed them in the same class. In the three months since the semester began, An Ping had hardly seen him. He rarely came to class, spending his time on sick leave like a "Traveling Frog."
First High was a top-tier provincial school with strict rules. The homeroom teacher was stingier with hall passes than a debt collector, yet An Ping was seeing someone take three months of leave for the first time. During that period, he had only seen Mu Gesheng twice. Once, the guy was in the back row, sleeping like the dead; when he woke up in the afternoon, he was buried under a pile of papers, making a sound like an avalanche when he moved.
The other time was at the school gate, where An Ping had stumbled upon Mu Gesheng in the middle of a group fight.
It had been raining heavily that day. An Ping had stayed late to ask a teacher a question. From a distance, he saw Mu Gesheng standing near the gate, his school jacket tied around his waist, with a pile of people lying at his feet.
Because he was far away, Mu Gesheng didn't seem to notice him. An Ping watched as the other boy picked up several backpacks from the ground, opened them to look inside, and then tossed them aside. An Ping thought he was looking for something valuable, but in the end, Mu Gesheng just took an umbrella and pulled out a can of Coke. The tab opened with a sharp *pop*.
An Ping was a straight-A student who usually steered clear of words like "school bully," but that day, he had stood in the rain for a while, lost in thought. He felt that compared to his agonizing love affair with conic sections, a group fight really did look a lot cooler.
...Provided one ignored the giant Hello Kitty on the guy's umbrella.
Having only seen Mu Gesheng twice, An Ping had no idea what kind of person this legendary bully actually was. He didn't dare *not* deliver the homework, but he didn't really want to either. Otherwise, he wouldn't have spent half the day loitering at the temple gate without calling, eventually paying fifty yuan for a "sucker's ticket."
He had the intention, but not the guts.
Delivering homework to a school bully—especially homework without an answer key—was probably more ridiculous than offering the *Five-Three* books to the City God.
He figured Mu Gesheng couldn't be bothered with him and was likely just playing a prank. Not meeting at all was probably the best outcome An Ping could hope for.
Seeing the sun about to set and realizing there was nothing to see in the temple, An Ping decided to treat it as a walk and leave. Just as he picked up his bag to head out, he heard the door to the side corridor creak open. A groggy voice drifted out:
"An Ping?"
An Ping jolted, turning to look at the person behind him, not daring to answer.
The other boy looked like he had just woken up. He was wearing flip-flops, holding an enamel mug, and had a travel neck pillow tucked under his chin. Noticing An Ping’s gaze, he gave a yawn and a nod.
There were four major rumors about Mu Gesheng at First High: his looks, his fighting, his sick leaves, and his years held back. His looks were ranked first. Having been held back for three years, he had effectively reigned as the school hunk for six years straight. An Ping, who had been single since birth, didn't quite understand the girls' perspective. All he saw was a guy dressed like an eccentric old man with hair like a bird's nest. But purely based on his face, he was indeed very handsome.
"Sorry about that, I was out cold. Didn't hear you..." Mu Gesheng said a few words, but An Ping didn't react. "Academic Rep?"
"Huh? Oh, I’m listening!" An Ping snapped out of it, a bit surprised. "You know I’m the Academic Rep?"
"We're in the same class, what's so strange about that?" Mu Gesheng said. "I even saw you cooking spicy hot pot in class once."
An Ping’s face turned bright red. He had lost a bet with his seatmate and was helping the jerk sneak a snack during self-study. As luck would have it, the guy had somehow produced a self-heating hot pot. The aroma had filled the entire classroom, and in the end, both of them had been kicked out by the homeroom teacher.
"Don't—stop, stop right there." He quickly changed the subject, handing over the bag. "The teacher asked me to bring these to you. Since we have a few days off, there's quite a lot of homework."
"Thanks." Mu Gesheng took a look inside. "Whoa. Two days of homework is more than a month's worth of my sick leave notes."
An Ping wanted to say there was even more in his desk at school... but he thought better of it. Then, he watched as Mu Gesheng walked into the incense hall, gave the papers a vigorous shake, and dumped them all into the merit box.
An Ping was dumbfounded. What was this guy doing?
"Donating merit," Mu Gesheng said, as if reading An Ping’s mind. He spoke with dramatic flair. "This is a City God with class. Even the incense money should be infused with the fragrance of knowledge."
An Ping was too exhausted to critique the theatrical tone. "No, Student Mu, that’s homework..." He stopped halfway. Forget it. Trying to talk to a school bully about homework was like trying to teach Thanos mathematics.
"Since you're already here, want to light a stick of incense?" Unlike his usual cold and distant reputation, Mu Gesheng seemed relaxed and casual, not at all difficult to get along with. "It’s a century-old temple, after all. It’s somewhat effective. Usually, they charge for admission."
An Ping choked. "I paid for a ticket. Fifty yuan."
Mu Gesheng blinked. "Student tickets are half price."
An Ping: "..."
"You probably got scammed by the scalper." Seeing his expression, Mu Gesheng let out a snort of laughter. "Tell you what, I’ll give you a stick of incense for free. The City God governs a hundred lifetimes of the mortal realm; you can pray for anything. You won't lose out."
Mu Gesheng brought the incense. In the main hall sat a clay statue of the City God. Its face was devoid of joy or sorrow, and the colorful paint had mostly peeled away, giving it a battered, destitute appearance. An Ping felt skeptical, thinking he’d just make a half-hearted wish for academic success. But then he heard a *clink* beside him. Mu Gesheng had somehow produced several coins and was tossing them in his hand.
"Sincerity brings results," the other boy said with conviction. "With all those test papers I just threw in, the City God will definitely hear you."
There were so many things wrong with that sentence that An Ping simply closed his eyes in silence. Still, he took a moment to seriously make a wish.
Before he could even open his eyes, he heard Mu Gesheng say, "Academic Rep, whose safety are you praying for?"
An Ping jumped. "How did you know what I prayed for?"
"Calculated it." Mu Gesheng pointed to the coins on the offering table. "You started out wanting to pray for your studies, so why did it change to a prayer for safety?"
"Calculated it?" An Ping’s mind was racing. Calculated how? Using trigonometric formulas?
"Don't panic, I don't eat children." Mu Gesheng pointed to the three sticks of incense in the burner. "The middle one snapped halfway. A very bad omen. Your face looks auspicious; you shouldn't have burned incense like this. Whose safety were you praying for?"
"Why don't you calculate it yourself?"
"I'm not a god." Mu Gesheng waved him off. "If you don't want to say, forget it. But I suggest you find someone to take a look at you. This temple has a lot of quirks—the good fortunes aren't always accurate, but the bad omens are always spot on."
"Is there anyone here?"
"Yes." Mu Gesheng pointed to himself. "Me."
An Ping: "..."
Honestly, if Mu Gesheng’s previous two comments hadn't been so eerily accurate, An Ping would have thought the bully had a screw loose—having a human face but not speaking a word of human sense.
"I won't ask anything extra; it's not like I'm asking to copy your homework." Mu Gesheng handed him the coins—seven fifty-cent pieces. "Here, try tossing these a few times."
An Ping looked at the three yuan and fifty cents in his hand. "What do you mean?"
"The wish you just made carries a very dark omen. Something 'unclean' might be sticking to you. If you toss the coins now, your luck will definitely be terrible." Mu Gesheng gestured for him to throw. "Go ahead. It’ll be tails every single time."
An Ping tried it, half-doubting. Without exception, they were all tails.
Refusing to believe it, he threw them several more times. Seven tails, every single time.
"Is there something wrong with these coins?"
"Guaranteed authentic or ten times your money back." Mu Gesheng sipped tea from his enamel mug. "Go out and turn left. Take them to the convenience store to buy spicy strips; the boss definitely won't say they're counterfeit."
*Who would even notice if a fifty-cent coin was counterfeit?!*
The two of them went back and forth in circles. Mu Gesheng was surprisingly eloquent, smiling as he talked An Ping into a state of total confusion. Finally, An Ping just gave up. "Fine. Then, Student Mu, could you help me see what’s going on?"
"Coming right up, boss. Thanks for your patronage." Mu Gesheng pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. "The one who tied the knot must untie it. Since the wish was made at the City God's feet, it must be repaid here. Before you worship at a temple, you must provide an offering. Here is the list of offerings; keep it safe."
An Ping took the list and looked at it, his face turning pale. "I have to ask... why is the offering 'Master Kong Braised Beef Instant Noodles'?"
"Our City God is quite down-to-earth. He loves that stuff."
"...Then what’s with the 'Digestive Tablets'?"
"Didn't you see his divine form?" Mu Gesheng pointed to the gaunt, sallow statue of the City God in the main hall, speaking with perfect logic. "Our guy here was sculpted with a rather slim figure. He’s afraid that if he eats too much, he’ll get indigestion."
***
**Glossary**
