Ep 01: Genesis – There Was Never a Choice

Once upon a time, high above the clouds was Mount Olympus. It was so high that the moon was nearly level with it. The immense, unbounded heavens arched overhead. Against the blue, velvety background, billions of stars gleamed like myriad scattered diamonds. Mount Olympus was a land of perfection: the breeze soft, the air fragrant, and the sunlight warm and radiant. Only gods and fairy beings were permitted to reside here. Pink, crimson, and golden flowers adorned the grass-covered slope. Crisp calls of the phoenix and Caladrius occasionally echoed in the distance.

Crowning the mountain peak, a magnificent palace commanded the eye, with gabled aquamarine roofs, triangular pediments, ranked marble columns, and stairways cloaked in vermilion carpets. On one side of the palace, a wide terrace overlooked an infinite vista beyond the precipice. Tall young attendants in silk chitons stood, holding crystal pitchers of mead and platters of food, such as almonds, apricots, feta, and honey cakes. Amid the attendants sat Zeus, king of the Greek gods, at a marble table with his guest, Emperor Zhen Wu, who had journeyed from Wu Dang Mountain in the distant East.

On the table between the two deities lay a Go board. Ever since Zeus first beheld its array of black and white stones, he had been captivated by this ancient game of encirclement.

Emperor Zhen Wu, clad in a black Taoist robe, appeared collected and confident. Glossy black hair cascaded down his back; his left hand stroked his beard while his right matched his opponent’s moves across the board. A long, double-edged sword rested across his back. Engraved upon its scabbard in ancient Chinese seal script was his august Taoist title: the Supreme Emperor of Divine Polaris.

Strikingly, there was a red snake coiled around Zhen Wu’s left arm. The gold-eyed serpent blazed scarlet, streaked with black, and armored in thick scales. His body glided slowly as his tongue flicked to taste the air. Less noticeable, though no less significant, a large turtle lay beneath Zhen Wu’s right boot. The turtle reposed with her eyes closed, her deep-blue body encased in a gray shell. Her seemingly calm, serene aura resembled a boulder resting at the bottom of the ocean. Both creatures were bound by the consecrated Taoist talismans of Zhen Wu, like radiant chains forged of living gold.

“I wasn’t expecting you to bring these two pets this time,” Zeus said with a faint scowl, his fingers drumming against the marble as he was decisively hemmed in by his challenger on the game board.

“They are not pets. You know this.” Zhen Wu said while he advanced another stone, forcing Zeus’s white pieces toward the edge. “One is the Lord of the Southern Fire Abyss, while the other rules the icy North Ocean. No dungeon dares to take them in yet.”

“So, you ‘babysit’ them every day?”Zeus yawned as he spoke, a hint of mockery in his voice. Then he raised his chalice and drained it in a single gulp. The attendant beside him immediately poured more mead. Zeus frowned slightly, then raised his arm, lightly snapped his fingers, and the mead in pitchers and chalices alike, instantly turned into potent celestial wine.

“Have you forgotten the earth-rending war they waged across the lower realm? For five hundred years it endured, and countless lives were laid to waste. I exerted great power to bind them.” Zhen Wu said. “Even so, the duo remained restless. They would surely turn my dojo upside down again if I left them at home, so I’d rather keep them with me wherever I go and watch them closely.”

The scarlet-red snake perched on Zhen Wu’s shoulder, craning his head and looking around, as though seeking an outlet to loose his fury—truly a belligerent serpent.

Behind Zhen Wu on the terrace stood a vast rock shaped like a folding screen; in a deep crevice of the stone hid a plump fairy mouse, its silvery-white fur glowing with luster and its pitch-black eyes fixed upon the food. Ever since ascending to the higher realm, the fairy mouse had roamed about, eventually discovering that whenever Zeus fell into a drunken stupor, it could slip out to feast on the leavings. As was ordained, only gods might partake of the delicacies offered from the lower realm. Surely there would be ample leavings again this time—perhaps even wine, the fairy mouse mused in quiet delight.

“What troubles you today? You do not seem yourself.” As Zeus’s gaze drifted, Zhen Wu placed another stone and continued, “When your messenger Hermes came bearing your invitation, I set off at once—only to find you yawning without cease and slow to answer.”

“Dionysus threw the best party last night. I had a wonderful time and drank too much wine in the heavenly vineyard,” Zeus yawned as he made his move. “Thus, I must drink more wine to beat the hangover.”

“You and I are both gods.” Zhen Wu finished his move and then looked up into Zeus’s eyes. “Look at me: I follow every clause in the Code of Conduct for Gods and Higher Beings—I abstain from all desires. At Wu Dang, where the energies of Yin and Yang converge, I rise with the sun and retire at sunset, attuning myself to the ever-shifting currents of Qi. I diligently answer every call from the lower realm when on duty. As a result, I’m always refreshed and full of vigor, and I serve as a role model for all gods in the higher realm. But you? You indulge in sensual pleasures, spending every day either partying or consorting with young men and women. Sometimes your sexual encounters even produce inexplicable freaks! The humans down there are spreading tabloid rumors about you. Your reputation is a mess. This is simply outrageous!” Zhen Wu added, “I’m telling you this because I truly see you as a friend.”

“The humans are gossiping about me?” Zeus jeered, “Those pathetic mortals! They, each struggling with their own problems, are like short-lived flowers, blooming in the morning and perishing by night. They might have opinions, but their opinions mean nothing at all.”

Zeus gave a subtle glance; an attendant promptly picked up a luscious piece of cheesecake and held it to his mouth. Zeus responded with an indulgent smile while taking a bite and continued, “The Code of Conduct was for reference only. You and I are already gods. We worked hard to achieve supreme enlightenment and finally ascended to the higher realm—the higher dimension of existence. We are not confined to physical bodies anymore, and our divine power bends all matter to our will. There is no longer any need to eat, drink, sleep, or take medicine. Except for some minor discomfort from consuming celestial booze, our well-being is unconditional. We are ageless, omnipotent, and eternally blissful.” He then pointed up at the heavens. “Beyond those, there is nothing above us. We live in a realm of limitless beauty, abundance, and peace.” The stars studded across the celestial dome, were silently turning counterclockwise under the sway of a vast and mysterious force, as though part of a colossal horologe.

“But you see, peace is boring.” Zeus made a move on the board. “It’s a bit dull and tedious to immerse ourselves in this perfect state every day, isn’t it? In this universe, all pleasure springs from desire; without desire, there is just no pleasure. So I enjoy delicious food, and I also enjoy beautiful men and women—I choose to embrace mortal desires, for they bring me joy, fun, and excitement. ‘Appetite and lust are only natural.’ Isn’t that the famous remark by Confucius, one of your people?” Zeus retorted.

“Confucius and I are not from the same family, just as you and Jesus are not in the same group.” Zhen Wu raised a finger and emphasized seriously.

“Oh, yes, different gangs, I understand, I understand. Speaking of Brother Jesus, he is far younger than I am—still not seasoned enough. Ever since he ascended to this higher realm, I haven’t seen him often, nor have I seen him enjoy himself very much. Instead, he went back down to the mortal world again and again to ‘save people.’” Zeus sneered.

While Zeus spoke at length, attendants carried in fresh plates of libum, grapes, and walnuts. At the sight of the golden libum—lush, full-bodied, and fragrant with creamy richness—the fairy mouse quivered with excitement and edged closer to the opening of the crevice.

“But those ordinary mortals—what is there to save? You cannot save them from their destined birth, you cannot save them from their destined aging, or their destined illness, or their destined death; nor can you save them from their destined karmas. Every life experience is mostly preprogrammed.” Zeus continued, “The mortal world is nothing more than a vast play: every role is prewritten, as if orchestrated by an algorithm. The masses drift and reshape like clouds, while the course of every individual life is nearly set in stone. There was never a choice. Even we, the gods—supreme and mighty—are unable to alter much of what is preordained. The algorithm is too powerful, too absolute, too unshakable. Most of the time, all one can do is just have fun in the narrow cracks of fate. Just have some fun while you still can.”

As Zeus spoke and defended his position on the board, the snake spotted the fairy mouse hiding in the dark. He extended his head forward, flicking his tongue.

“Look, once I claim a little more territory, I’ll win.” Zhen Wu stared at the board, losing himself in the game; his right foot twitched with quiet anticipation. Below, the turtle lazily opened her eyes, surveyed the scene, and then closed them once more.

“I still have a chance to turn this around,” Zeus said, one eyebrow raised in taunting defiance.

“Well, since we’re talking about fun, why don’t we have some? Let’s place a bet to make the game more thrilling.” Zhen Wu held Zeus’s gaze, a mischievous smile glinting in his eyes.

“What bet?”

“The bet concerns this round of Go: if I win, I will pour this chalice of wine down the left side; if you win, I will pour it down the right.” Zhen Wu pointed to the chalice on the attendant’s tray, then gestured toward both sides of the cliff.

“This is celestial wine—far too strong for those mortals below, especially for humans. If it were poured down and mingled with the rain, an entire continent would grow tipsy, and the effects might last for hundreds of years.” Zeus deliberated, “Though it is fun to observe how humans behave when drunk—elect an apparently stupid leader, start a war that ends up destroying themselves, or slaughter one another in the name of their narrow-minded faith.” After a brief pause, he continued, “Or maybe—a really long shot—through some sudden inspiration, madmen turn steam into engines; slaves awaken from false hopes; sex addicts unite the human race—who knows! Unpredictable things happen when humans are inebriated. But whatever they do, it will certainly be entertaining to watch.”

“Touché! One small dose wouldn’t keep them buzzed for that long.” Zhen Wu then removed the sword from his back—the heavy weapon that had burdened him—handed it to the attendant at his side, and said to Zeus, “Now let us begin.”

On the board, the two deities were locked in a tight struggle, each determined to outmaneuver the other. Zeus marshaled all his divine intelligence to turn the game around. As the board grew crowded with stones, Zhen Wu captured one of Zeus’s; Zeus answered in kind, taking one of Zhen Wu’s. Buoyed by his successful counterattacks, Zeus, in his excitement, reached out and lightly brushed his right hand across the smooth, pale cheek of an attendant standing with his head lowered. At last, a triple ko appeared on the Go board—an eerie one-in-ten-thousand chance—as both players were trapped within the position, repeatedly lifting and replacing the same crucial stones. To break the ko was to surrender, and neither relented. The game grew ghostlike: black and white stones circled the center, mirroring the eternal turning of Yin and Yang.

All eyes around the table were fixed on the board, so compelling was the game—except for the snake’s. The scarlet snake fixed his eyes on the fairy mouse, extending his long body as he prepared to strike.

The mouse was actually in quite a safe spot, as the crevice provided deep shelter, and the snake was securely chained to Zhen Wu’s arm. Yet somehow, it felt afraid. Suddenly, a creeping fear welled up from within, flooding its mind and overpowering its will.

Driven by the terror of an attack, the fairy mouse bolted and ran. In blind panic, it first blasted out of the crevice, but then missed its footing and slammed onto the sword hilt in the attendant’s hands. The sword slid free from the scabbard, sprang into the air—its straight, double-edged blade gleaming like polished platinum as it swept a fan-shaped arc—before striking the ground. In the same instant, the fairy mouse tumbled onto the game board, leapt forcefully again, and finally plunged into the folds of Zeus’s robe.

Before anyone could react, the board and the marble table collapsed to the ground and exploded into fragments. Black and white stones flew in every direction. The upheaval startled all the attendants, loosening their grips. Amid the chaos, every drop of wine from pitchers and chalices alike was cast skyward over the cliff’s edge, hurtled down through the clouds, and transformed into raging storms that descended upon the lower realm.

In an even stranger coincidence, as if in slow motion, the sword rebounded high into the air. Its blade first pierced the talismans binding the snake, then sliced through those affixed to the turtle before crashing to the ground again. Everything unfolded as though fated—inevitable, yet uncannily synchronized.

Seizing the moment, the snake broke free from his confinement. He launched himself from Zhen Wu’s shoulder in a whirlwind of fire, smashed onto the rocks, and expanded, becoming a massive serpent.

Zhen Wu immediately shaped his fingers into a seal, intoned a spell, and then manifested multiple avatars, trying to subdue the serpent again with his divine power. The snake darted left and right, a phantom blur flickering past every strike. Zeus also sent forth a shaft of bright light from his fingertip to help; the light instantly unfurled into a massive golden net. With his tail, the snake snatched up the fallen sword and tore through the snare with ease. Then, coiling himself around the sword, the snake—the Lord of the Southern Fire Abyss—fused into a single blazing mass and shot upward, bursting into a colossal scarlet firework that bloomed against the deep heavens—leaving nothing behind to grasp.

During the fight, a faint smile curled on the turtle’s lips as her entire body quietly dissolved into a swelling surge of water. Before one of Zhen Wu’s avatars could lift his palm and summon divine power to draw the water back, the swift torrent rushed to the edge of the terrace, seeped into the countless fissures between the rocks, cascaded downward, and at last vanished into the roiling storm clouds.

While Zhen Wu’s many avatars merged back into one and the attendants scrambled to their feet, Zeus, enraged, reached into his robe and yanked out the troublesome mouse. “Where did this rat come from? Look at what you’ve done! I’ll kill you and tear you into pieces!” Zeus roared at the mouse clenched in his fist.

The mouse’s face was etched with sheer terror. Though held captive by Zeus, it trembled uncontrollably, tears streaming down its face as it pleaded.

Zeus tapped his left index finger against the mouse’s forehead and instantly knew everything. “So you’ve been stealing my food and wine all this time, you greedy rat!”

“If I hadn’t brought those two monsters here, none of this would have happened,” Zhen Wu said. With a slight motion of his hand, he traced a circle in the air, and the marble table, the stones, and the scattered tableware were instantly restored to their original state. “What was lost cannot be reversed. This mouse didn’t do it on purpose. Let it go.”

Gazing at the mouse, Zeus was still seething. “Do you know the consequences of pouring that much celestial wine into the mortal world below? Even a single drop would throw an entire kingdom into turmoil. Not to mention the snake and the turtle—they would wreak havoc! And the sword… Do you have any idea of its significance?”

“Everything happened as if by coincidence. Didn’t you say that all things were destined? Perhaps what has just occurred was inevitable as well,” said Zhen Wu. “This calamity must have been preordained, or it wouldn’t have unfolded with such precision.”

“That being said, this rat has caused trouble and must be punished,” Zeus said, his eyes still fixed on the mouse, radiating an air of imperial majesty. “Since you are so greedy, why should I not send you down there—to the land of imperfection, the land of trouble, the land of impermanence?”

“The mortal world is more of a prison than a realm of freedom!” Zhen Wu said. “To attain a fairy status and ascend to Mount Olympus, this mouse must have endured centuries of arduous cultivation. Once cast down, it would be extremely difficult to return to the higher realm. Just let it go!”

“Oh, this rat is clearly a good fit for that world.” Zeus gazed at the mouse.

“Over there, all existence is conditional. Animals like you must harm, kill, and feed on other living beings to survive. Scarcity is embedded in its default setting. Thus, every life—without exception—is driven by need and greed,” Zeus said with hollow sincerity. “Given how ardently you crave fine food, struggling for every meal must be a pleasure rather than a torment.”

The fairy mouse was clutched so tightly in Zeus’s massive hand that it could not speak; only more tears streamed from the corners of its eyes.

“Over there, perfection is forbidden—everything must bear some flaw, great or small, or else it would cease to exist,” Zeus said. “Surely, you would enjoy dragging that tainted mortal flesh through endless days!”

“In the mortal world, there is always trouble—always. If it doesn’t come from outside, it will arise from within. You must truly delight in that perpetual scramble from one problem to the next, forever sacrificing one thing to appease another.”

“Over there, nothing worthwhile is easily gained, yet whatever is gained soon fades.” Zeus said with cruel amusement, “Now that the Fire Snake and Water Turtle have escaped to the lower realm thanks to you, it would be even more of a spectacle if you joined the grand show as well, wouldn’t it? What an exciting play to look forward to!”

Without waiting for Zhen Wu to plead further, Zeus merely waved his hand and cast the fairy mouse down from the heights of Mount Olympus…

End of Episode

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