The Green Lotus
Author: Gao Ye
Everything that transpired between the heavens and earth was ephemeral as a thought, an idea, as a flower that blossomed and withered in silence. Each day the sun left the Valley of Fusang, never-changing and monotonous as the tolling bell in a monastery.
In life and death, mortals were bound to the Yellow Spring, to which they unwillingly returned. The marks they left in the previous lives persisted in the world, though the memories were forever lost to them.
Once upon a time there was a celestial being, who rode the wind that bellowed under his feet. He loved chasing elusive mysteries of the heavens; no one could ever catch a glimpse of him.
His brows cast the same silhouette as the distant, misty mountains. His face was as elegant as a flower. Under the moonlight, in a meadow full of flowers, I perchance ran into him, as a drop of dew splashing on a new leaf in the early morning.
He told me about his previous life, in which he was a god in the court of the Jade Emperor. His godhood allowed him infinite time to contemplate in the Western Attic. The heavens were vast, the winds cold, but a beautiful woman kept him company.
When he was still subject to life and death, he was a green lotus with emerald leaves. The lotus stood in the water, alone, as a beautiful person shrouded in lovely mysteries.
He deemed himself lucky to be able to comprehend the principles of the cosmos, and he strived to cultivate his understanding and powers. Finally, the disciple of the Grand God Hongjun was delighted by him, so he took him as a student.
Thus he told his teacher that he was only interested in the cosmic principles and not affairs of the mortal kings. He was happy to spend his days talking to birds and beasts, by his teacher’s dwelling, the Palace Biyou.
Twenty-four years later, Ji Fa of Zhou rebelled against Zhou of Shang. Many Taoists like him joined the fight, and they split into the Jie Clan and the Chan Clan that despised each other.
He was presented with a magical map of the mountains and rivers of China, and given a magical robe imbued with the powers of the heavens and earth. He was the owner of the Sword Juexian, one of the four most prized magical blades that could kill an immortal god.
His figure was beautifully slender, and his stance unyielding as jade. His belts and ribbons flew in the wind. His face was reminiscent of what he was, the spirit of a sublime, aloof flower. His eyes and brows were pitch-black, more dazzling than the powdered face of the royal consort.
He killed thousands of men and women; he was a master strategist. He scored decisive victories at the Jiameng Pass and the Sishui Pass for the Jie Clan. He did so because his teacher tasked him to guard the most important forts.
He wore the magical robe and wielded the magical blade. His every movement was lethal. Fa’s armies stumbled before him, their soldiers dead and generals captured, while he was steadfast and calm.
Because he understood the cosmic principles, he could bend them to his will. When he flipped his hands, glaciers would melt into running water in the blink of an eye.)
Countless mortals he had killed, but he wanted nothing to do with this war. He drowned his sorrow in wine. Every day when the sun hid behind the clouds, every night when the air was cold, he could see the ghosts of the slain civilians and soldiers.
He dropped his weapons and journeyed to the capital Chaoge of King Zhou of Shang. He was appalled by Zhou’s tyranny - the king whom he served as told by his beloved teacher.
Devastated, he went back to the Palace Biyou and demanded an answer, but his teacher, who cited the mandate of the heavens, could not persuade him.
People suffered at the whim of their king as well as the powerful sorcerers like him. He returned to his post, heart-broken and full of dread.
He couldn’t defy his teacher, for it went against everything his teacher had done for him. He struggled day after day on the battlefield. During a battle he was distracted, and his spell was deflected. He was slain by a Taoist from the Chan Clan that supported the rebellious Ji Fa.
Finally, the war ended, and Ji Fa had won. The three disciples of the Grand God Hongjun discussed the fates of their students who fought and died during the battle. They decided that their bravery and loyalty, even though misplaced, should be rewarded. As he died in Fort Mianchi, he deserved to be immortalized.
He became a star in the constellation Nandou and received the divine name Guchen, the Lone Star. He was among the twenty-eight gods who had the honor to claim a position in the Jade Emperor’s court.
Having obtained godhood, he was trapped in the heavens. He longed to go back and witness the wonders of the mortal world, but all he could do was to gaze at paintings of the world below.
The zenith of the heavens was lonely and miserable. The heavenly court was forever misty and foggy, in which he couldn’t even see the others’ faces.
The four magical weapons including the sword that he wielded, the magical garbs such as the one he once wore - they were no longer useful. As such they were sealed away in beautiful, bejeweled boxes that sat and gathered dust
He was no longer a warrior but a courtier. His name was Qinglian, the Green Lotus. His lovely look never changed, despite the changes of seasons and the vicissitude of the mortal realm.
The only person who kept him company was a fellow goddess in the court, Lady Lanying of the Gao family. She was an accomplished duellist, and her blades never left her hands.
So they dueled and sparred, using both their weapons and spells. The Lady danced with her blades with deadly grace, a warrior equal to him.
They called upon the powers of the elements, of the sun and moon, with incredible ease. To them, wielding such powers was no harder than mortals walking in their own yards.
They fought with the grace of the phoenix and speed of the dragon. When they stopped, they were static as a ray of light on the peaceful ocean. When they moved, they were like the untouchable, intangible falling stars.
Every time their blades bit into each other’s flesh, their hearts were connected as well. In the beautiful, surreal settings of the heavens, with iridescent lights that flew, and trees and vines made of jade.
The lotus would bend his head, and the peach tree would shake her leaves. At dusk they met under the withering leaves of the willow trees by the bank.
Thus he told her: How fortunate that we are, for His Heavenly Majesty granted us immortality. I will spend the rest of my entire life with you, and I will treasure you forever.)
They spend every dawn and dusk in each other’s arms. They refused to leave each other’s side, as Zhou Xiaoshi refused to leave the bed chambers of his liege lord.
How wonderful it was to have one’s beloved returning the same sentiment! Their love was passionate and sweet. They swore to keep each other company until the death of the sun, the moon, the mountains, and the sea.
However, the law of the gods was cruel, as the Jade Emperor ruled his subjects with an iron fist. He demanded absolute love from everyone; as a result, the gods in the court could not love each other.
Their forbidden romance incurred rumors, and the rumors were arrows shot from hidden places. They were forced to renounce their love, and cut off their ties forever.
Thus Qinglian was separated from his lady, and he could no longer whisper sweet words to her ears. He loved her so deeply, and he thought about her day and night.
Thus he said: she already has my heart, so my heart is no longer mine to give. It lingers by her side. I would love to play her a tune of love, but the eyes and ears of His Heavenly Majesty are everywhere.
Every morning he reported to the Jade Emperor’s court and professed his love to him. His Heavenly Majesty sat on the throne above the nine planes of the heavens, and he allowed nothing but praises and compliments.
Some gods made the mistake to criticize him, and by night they were gone. How laughable it was that the heavens were more unforgiving than the mortal realm, where mortals thought the heavens as a paradise in their folklore.
He was never good at turning away from his heart’s desire, unlike so many mindless others in the court. Since he could not love his lady, he would make unpleasant comments to the Jade Emperor.
Before him, there used to be another who defied the Jade Emperor. The dragon prince Long Jian was sentenced to spend his remaining years among mortals, but the prince would do anything to leave the court.
Thus he said: The Jade Emperor is no different from the tyrant kings of the mortals, for he demands love through oppression and manipulation. I would rather give up my immortality and live among the mortals as a short-living lotus flower.
The heavenly court was freezing at night, and Qinglian would listen to the rainfall in the darkness and wait for the tolling of the bell. He suffered from not only the loss of his love, but the loss of his freedom.
He continued: Once I depart Biluo, I will fall from the heavens into Hongchen. I will no longer see my lady as well as my liege lord. O my love, please do not mourn me and send me away with tears in your eyes, and forgive me - I’ll see you no more.
He continued: Every soul consists of three Hun and seven Po, and I don’t care if mine is annihilated. My broken soul serves as a sacrifice, for I have loved and fought.
He continued: I am going back to what I was before, a mortal vulnerable to life, death, and reincarnation. I will lament for my love, one last time, and the moon will mark the end of my eternal life.Thus he descended upon the underworld, to the House of Reincarnation. He was asked to surrender his memories, so he could be reincarnated and start his life anew.
The beginning and end of his love would become a distant dream - this was the misfortune of being an immortal, whose reincarnations might recall the unfinished businesses they left as gods and goddesses.
Spring had come, and it was May in the mortal world. The peach blossoms were so pink as if they were on fire. He recalled his life as a god and his lady love whom he left, but what else could he do? It was already in the past.
Historical books written by unqualified scholars often mocked him as a man who abandoned both his love and his lord. He always wanted to correct them, but he lacked the ability to form beautiful, convincing stories.
Thus spoke Qinglian of his sorrow and regret. He confessed to me until dawn. He implored that I should scatter his memories in the rivers, which in turn would carry them to the sun.
Written in Charlottesville ,USA
May,2018
About the Author：Gao Ye, female, Beijing, Ph.D. in Computer Department of the University of Virginia.
Chinese Version：http://www.sgwlx.com/WorkDetail.aspx?aid=2644