Chapter 153: Do Gods Survive Without Offerings and Devotees!!
Do gods die?
They do.
Lu Yuan’s Dao records this clearly.
“A god is something that relies.”
“It relies on things, and it relies on thoughts.”
“If the thing is destroyed, the god is harmed; if the thoughts are extinguished, the god perishes.”
What does that mean?
Gods are not born from nothing, nor are they innate.
They must have something to rely on.
That is called “relying on a thing.”
But having the thing alone is not enough; it also needs “thoughts.”
Human thought.
People believe in it, people worship it, people burn incense, kowtow, make vows and offerings.
Those incense flames, those powers of vow, those accumulated thoughts over time.
They slowly nurture a spirit-awareness; only then does it become a god.
That is called “relying on thought.”
So what is a god, then?
A god is the combination of thing and thought.
The thing is its body, the thought is its soul.
But the problem is, things decay and thoughts can be cut off.
Stones weather, springs dry up, old trees wither.
Even if those things remain, if nobody believes anymore, nobody worships, nobody burns incense,
the “thought” is severed.
When thought is severed, the god loses its support.
What happens to a god with no support?
The Dao writes it plainly:
“When thought is extinguished, the god has nothing to rely on; with nothing to rely on, its form disperses; when form disperses, the divine light leaks outward; when the divine light is wholly leaked, the god perishes.”
It sounds mystical, but looking at these blurred figures, it becomes clear.
They used to have shape and form.
The Recumbent Ox Stone Lord should have been a huge rock lying by the field, fed by villagers’ incense to protect local harvests.
Now its form has dispersed, leaving only a gray, dusty mist barely condensed into a hunched humanoid shape.
The Spring Mother should have been the deity at a mountain spring’s source, overseeing the flow of a water lineage.
Now her form is scattered; that tenacious dryness in her aura clearly signals that the water source is cut off and no one worships it.
The Flower Maiden is worse, her form barely holding together, like smoke that could dissolve at any moment.
Why did they end up like this?
Because no one worships them anymore.
Those farmers by the fields, those villagers below the mountain, the people who once burned incense and kowtowed to them—now they don’t believe, they don’t come, they don’t worship.
It’s like humans.
Human death has three phases.
The first is physiological death, when the heart stops.
The second is social death, when relatives and friends hold a wake.
The third is spiritual death, when the last person who remembers you forgets.
For these “gods,” when incense is cut off and vow-power gone, the “thought” that sustains them is severed.
When thought is severed, form disperses.
When form disperses, the divine light starts leaking.
What is divine light?
It’s the god’s life.
Those sickly green, dim yellow, grayish light specks are their remaining divine light.
Where the light speck remains, the god remains.
When the light speck goes out, the god is dead.
If so, why don’t evil spirits die?
Those mountain fiends, lonely ghosts and wandering spirits—no one worships or offers to them, yet they survive well.
Some even live hundreds or thousands of years, far longer than these gods.
Take Yellow Braised Chicken as an example: clearly a weasel origin, but after undergoing tribulation it became the Zhao family’s Household Guardian Immortal and lives comfortably.
Does it not rely on offerings?
People do worship it, so why doesn’t it, like these wild gods, face imminent death once offerings stop?
Lu Yuan rifled through the Dao in his mind and found a passage:
“Evil sprites and strange creatures have their own root.”
“The root lies in essence, in qi, in spirit; it does not depend on external things.”
What does that mean?
These evil sprites grow their roots themselves.
Take Yellow Braised Chicken: after hundreds of years of cultivation, absorbing the essence of sun and moon, ingesting the world’s spiritual qi, it gradually opened awareness.
That is the accumulation of essence.
It continued to cultivate, learning to inhale and exhale energy, to take human form, to perform small spells.
That is the accumulation of qi.
It went further, perceiving cause and effect, communicating with people, sheltering a community.
That is the accumulation of spirit.
Essence, qi, spirit—these are grown by itself, rooted in itself, no one can take them away.
Even if nobody worships it, even if no offerings come, it can still live.
At worst it leads a cramped, shabby existence, but it won’t, like the gods, disperse at once when thought is cut off.
Evil sprites are even simpler.
Most evil entities form based on their own grievances, on malignant energy!
The Dao also says:
“Celestial ones are both essence and spirit.”
“Their root is within; their nourishment comes from people.”
“If the inner root is not broken, then even without people’s nourishment they can still persist.”
“If people’s worship does not cease, the inner root will grow even stronger.”
Yellow Braised Chicken cultivated for centuries; essence, qi, and spirit all belong to it.
At the same time, it receives the Zhao family’s incense and vow-power, an extra “nourishment.”
With this nourishment it lives better, stronger, and longer.
If one day the Zhao family stops offerings, it will at most return to its former state and survive, just less pampered.
That is its “root”—untouchable by others.
Gu Qingwan survived because she was arranged a ghost marriage, sustained by the endless household resentment and grieving energy bound to that roof!
Thinking back to Lu Yuan’s past demon-slaying work,
why did he always perform that one final act of relief and release when facing evil sprites, no matter how malicious the sprite?
That relief-and-release dissolves the sprite’s grievances and rancor.
Evil sprites are fundamentally a combination of grievance and rancor.
Only by clearing their grievance and rancor can the sprite fully dissipate.
Therefore, the sprites that form into celestial-like beings are different from those “gods”!
They did not rely on being worshipped from the start.
What is the Recumbent Ox Stone Lord?
A cow-shaped rock by the field, treated as a sacred thing, with daily incense and kowtowing.
Those incense and vow-powers, accumulated over time, gradually nurtured a spirit-awareness in the stone.
That spirit-awareness was “borrowed” the whole way—borrowing the rock’s shape, borrowing the thoughts fed by incense.
It never cultivated essence, never tempered qi, never condensed spirit.
Everything about it was given by others.
So once people stopped giving, it had nothing.
The stone remained, but that was only a stone.
When offerings stopped, it lost its support.
No support, form dispersed.
Form dispersed, light leaked.
Light leaked away, it perished.
That is the biggest difference between gods and evil sprites.
Evil sprites have roots; gods do not.
Evil sprites exist because they cultivated; gods exist because people worship.
That is why sprites can live hundreds or thousands of years, even hiding in remote forests unknown to people, still thriving.
Gods must depend on people, on incense, on vow-power.
Once people forget, the god dies.
Lu Yuan looked at those blurred figures and suddenly recalled a line from the Dao:
“People praise immortals, yet do not know immortals fear aging.”
“They fear not the years, but the forgetting by the world.”
Everything seemed to connect.
Why ordinary families worship their ancestors.
Why Taoist doors enshrine the Patriarch.
Because nobody wants their ancestors truly to “die.”
Just like when the old man spoke of the Patriarch and generations past, he said the Patriarch and ancestral masters long ago died.
What Lu Yuan saw as those golden-phased silhouettes were simply the Patriarch and ancestral masters persisting in the world as a “thought.”
For a moment, Lu Yuan understood why these wild gods had gathered at the foot of Zhenlong Temple.
Why they came to seek the Deity of Beauty.
They weren’t here to lure the Deity of Beauty into doing evil.
From the beginning, he should have seen that.
After all, if the “gods” truly wanted to do evil and already had, they would no longer be gods—they would be malevolent deities.
As for whether they wanted the Deity of Beauty to lead them into wickedness…
Lu Yuan thought, probably not.
Because if these gods wanted to survive, besides receiving incense and offerings,
there was another route:
to harm people, to make people fear them, to become malevolent deities.
They had already reached such a state but hadn’t chosen that path, which meant they had not fallen; their divinity remained.
They had come to beg the Deity of Beauty to take them in.
Only by following a strong god like her could they hope for a sliver of incense and vow-power to keep them going for a few more years.
Even a thread of it could let them hold on a little longer.
Lu Yuan suddenly recalled something the old man had said while drinking.
“Gods are like people; they need to eat.”
“People eat grain and food; gods eat incense and vow-power.”
“If people don’t eat, they starve; if gods have no incense, they starve too.”
At the time Lu Yuan laughed, saying gods wouldn’t starve.
Now he knew.
Gods really can starve to death.
But that is not the worst.
The worst is that when a god dies, it does not get a chance to reincarnate.
People die and can be reborn; sprites can attain release.
Gods are different.
They are formed by accumulated thought; when the thought disperses, it truly vanishes.
They do not become ghosts, they do not reincarnate, they leave no trace.
Like a lamp that runs out of oil—the flame goes out and nothing remains.
Lu Yuan looked at those blurred figures and felt an odd bitterness.
They were once deities who protected regions.
The Recumbent Ox Stone Lord safeguarded the local weather and harvests.
The Spring Mother protected the mountain spring’s living water.
The Flower Maiden tended to the mountain’s blooming seasons.
They had never done wrong or harmed people; they quietly stayed where they belonged, accepted villagers’ incense, and guarded the land.
Now that no one worships them, they have to “die”…
Lu Yuan didn’t know what to say.
Because now there was one most important matter.
That is...
The Deity of Beauty currently has no incense, no offerings...
She...
She is busy playing mahjong every day like a demon!
She has no incense on her at all!!
Lu Yuan’s earlier explanations about gods, evil sprites, and strange creatures…
were correct.
But not absolute!
There are no absolute truths in the world.
Even now, Lu Yuan still cannot fully comprehend Gu Qingwan’s overwhelming power.
It is a despair-inducing strength!
Take the Deity of Beauty for example!
She is a god with a true physical body!!
Didn’t the old man say plainly that the Deity of Beauty was the big bride the Patriarch gave to Lu Yuan?
Because she has a physical form.
She could even bear Lu Yuan’s children!
Then where did the Deity of Beauty’s physical body come from?
That is an astonishing coincidence—an oddity among oddities.
The Deity of Beauty’s predecessor was Liu Ruyan.
Liu Ruyan was originally human, then locked herself in a kiln and was fired into a beauty porcelain.
That beauty porcelain is Liu Ruyan’s true body!
After becoming the beauty porcelain, Liu Ruyan did not immediately fall into malevolence.
However, she was discovered by the Commanding Ghosts Liu Family, forcefully enshrined and worshipped, forcibly made into an evil deity!
Afterwards, she underwent the Patriarch’s lightning-and-fire tempering...
Anyway, the Deity of Beauty’s existence is at once reasonable and utterly unreasonable!
Reasonable because, despite everything being filled with coincidence, the chain of events flowed together.
In the end she indeed became a god with a body.
Unreasonable because the coincidences are ridiculously bizarre!
If any link had broken, she would not be what she is now!
It’s like coincidence opened doors for coincidence—coincidence to the extreme!
So the Deity of Beauty is a god who does not need to worry about incense or vow-power!
In other words, she is somewhat like Yellow Braised Chicken.
Even without incense or offerings, at worst she lives frugally but will not perish!
Since she has no such worries, the Deity of Beauty naturally won’t rush to look for incense and vow-power.
Not now—because her fate is entangled with Lu Yuan’s, she only wants to stay at Zhenlong Temple and play mahjong all day.
Even if in the future her entanglement with Lu Yuan is released and she wants to do her own thing,
she probably wouldn’t go hunting for incense and vow-power!
Knowing her nature, she would likely travel, see the world, enjoy scenery.
So... these wild gods coming to seek the Deity of Beauty...
truly picked the wrong person.
Setting aside whether she would accept them,
even if she did, it would be useless.
Lu Yuan looked at those ephemeral shadows...
Although he felt bad, some things had to be said clearly.
He cleared his throat and looked at the shapes within the mist:
“Everyone, there’s something I need to make clear beforehand.”
“She, might not be able to help you.”
No sooner had he spoken than the light specks in the mist flashed violently.
Those sickly green eyes—the Recumbent Ox Stone Lord’s eyes—stared straight at Lu Yuan.
Their hoarse, ancient voices were full of disbelief:
“No...impossible...
“The aura that night...
“We... all sensed it...”
Lu Yuan slightly confirmed with his inner sense.
That night?
He immediately understood what the Recumbent Ox Stone Lord referred to.
On the night the Deity of Beauty formally became a god, the Patriarch tempered her with lightning and fire; that was no ordinary event!
The thirsty female voice of the Spring Mother also sounded now, tinged with urgency:
“That aura... was too powerful...
“We... in hundreds of years... never seen... such a mighty god.”
The girl-like voice of the Flower Maiden, weak, added:
“Compared to me... she’s far... far stronger.”
“Such a powerful god... how could... have no incense offerings?”
Lu Yuan opened his mouth.
For a moment, he did not know how to explain.
Indeed, from their perspective, such a powerful god couldn’t possibly have no incense.
What is incense?
Incense is vow-power and offerings; it is the foundation of a god’s survival.
The stronger a god, the more their incense should flourish.
The more incense, the stronger the god.
Lu Yuan could only sigh and continue explaining:
“Her strength that night... had nothing to do with incense.”
The light specks in the mist flickered even more violently, still clearly disbelieving.
The hunched figure drifted forward half a step; sickly green eyes pinned Lu Yuan:
“Gods... how can they not rely on incense...
“If not on incense... what does she...live on...
“That divine light on her... so bright...
“How much incense... would it take... to nurture that...”
Lu Yuan: “....”
This could be explained to them; nothing about it was inexplicable.
Lu Yuan could simply tell them exactly how the Deity of Beauty gained the Dao that night.
But he was sure of one thing: even if he told them, these wild gods would not believe!
Even Lu Yuan himself still found the Deity of Beauty’s story ridiculously hard to accept.
“She doesn’t owe that divine light to incense; it was struck out of her by lightning and fire...”
Lu Yuan still tried to explain.
However...
Those sickly green, dim yellow, grayish light specks all stared at him.
Their gazes clearly read: you’re lying.
Enough...
Forget it...
Lu Yuan knew he couldn’t make himself believed.
These wild gods had lived for centuries, accepted a hundred years of the same deathly truth.
How could a few words from him make them believe a god could live without incense?
He gave up on arguing.
Lu Yuan looked toward the woods behind him and said:
“You come out. Explain it to them yourself.”
Of course the Deity of Beauty had been with Lu Yuan all along.
He could not truly face danger alone.
After he spoke, the woods fell silent for a breath.
Then—
The moonlight dimmed abruptly for an instant.
Not because clouds covered the moon, but because something invisible drew away part of the moon’s sheen.
The sickly green, dim yellow, grayish light specks in the mist all trembled violently.
This was not fear.
It was instinct.
Like beasts on a mountain sensing a predator’s aura,
like fish in water detecting a flood.
Like a person walking at night suddenly feeling something fixedly staring down their spine.
It was an ingrained, uncontrollable reflex.
The Recumbent Ox Stone Lord’s trembling form nearly failed to maintain human shape.
The Spring Mother’s dried breath seemed sucked dry for a moment; her gray-white mist nearly scattered on the spot.
The Flower Maiden was worst of all; her girlish outline almost collapsed, leaving only two gray-white light specks frantically flickering in the fog.
Then the Deity of Beauty walked out of the woods.
She walked slowly, with a casual gait,
just like when she usually strolled out of the side hall, still holding half a frozen pear between her fingers.
But at this moment—
the moonlight suddenly became immensely bright.
Not that the moonlight recovered, but rather... every strand of moonlight seemed drawn by some force, converging upon her.
Moonlight flowed behind her, a pale, elegant radiance gently spiraling.
Like stars surrounding the moon.
Like tributaries flowing toward the source.
Finally the moonlight fell upon her face, that flawless, peerless beauty, expressionless.
Those eyes, brilliant as a river of stars, now held not a hint of mischief.
The Deity of Beauty tilted her head slightly, looking at them—fearful yet expectant—and spoke with sincerity:
“I don’t have incense. Go back where you came from.”
Lu Yuan:......
Are you for real?!?!
I called you out to say this??!
End of Chapter
