Chapter 108: The Manifestation of the Holy Lord

"My fellow citizens, I am Di Xin, I am King Zhou... Today, here at the Star-Picking Pavilion in Zhaoge, I, Di Xin, can loudly and responsibly tell you, the people of the Shang Dynasty, that you no longer need to worry about going hungry."

A roar of excitement erupted!

Following King Zhou's opening speech, the crowd gathered below the Star-Picking Pavilion surged with fervor.

"Long live the King!"
"Long live our Sovereign!"
"Long live the Shang Dynasty!"

They felt joy in being subjects of the Shang; they felt profound pride in being people of the Great Shang; their hearts swelled with passion, knowing the blood of the Great Shang flowed through their veins.

Once King Zhou finished his address, his ministers behind him—including Weizi Qi, Shang Rong, Bi Gan, Wen Zhong, Mei Bo, Du Yuanxian, Huang Feihu, the Eastern Earl Jiang Hengchu, and the Southern Earl E Chongyu—were all filled with immense joy. Sovereign and subject shared in the happiness, and the people rejoiced with them.

When the clamor subsided, King Zhou waved his hand, signaling the crowd to be quiet, and continued in a booming voice: "My people, before we begin the distribution of grain, there is one thing I must clarify. The fact that our Shang Dynasty was able to harvest such an abundance of crops this year is something I owe to one person."

"This person is a presence akin to a heavenly saint. It was through the protection of this divine being that the destiny and fate of our Shang Dynasty were transformed."

"Now, you must join me in bowing to this Holy Master."

"First bow!"
"Second bow!"
"Third bow!"

"Sir, do you see? My Great Shang is finally on the path to prosperity. Had it not been for your guidance back then, I shudder to think how far my dynasty would have fallen!"

"Sir, please accept another bow from me!"

King Zhou did not know if Chu Xiaoyu, this "Sir," was truly present in their time and space. Regardless, King Zhou was not merely performing a ritual; he was sincerely leading his court officials and all the people of the Shang in a devout ceremony of three kowtows and nine prostrations to Chu Xiaoyu.

The people of the Shang had heard rumors of the mysterious "Sir" and his miraculous deeds, though they only knew them as hearsay. They lacked the detailed understanding that the court ministers possessed.

"Sir... are you there?" King Zhou looked up toward a certain direction in the sky, his heart uncertain. Last night, the Sir had promised them that he would personally participate in today's grand celebration. Yet, all remained silent, and he could sense no presence of the Sir at all. Truth be told, King Zhou felt deeply uneasy.

"Whom is the King speaking to? Is it that mysterious Holy Master?" his elder brother, Weizi Qi, couldn't help but ask.

The court ministers had learned some things about this powerful Sir from Bi Gan and others. They were incredibly curious about the identity of this mysterious "Sir" and felt a deep sense of awe. The massive reforms and changes in the Shang were all born from the teachings of this Holy Master, and the results were heartening.

"Your Majesty, it seems the Sir is not here," Su Hu said, unable to hide his disappointment. Today was such a grand occasion; without the Sir's participation, it felt as though something vital was missing.

"Hey, Di Xin, Su Hu, there is no need for you to be like this; I have been here the whole time."

Suddenly, a voice echoed from the mysterious sky. Everyone was startled, then utterly stunned! What was happening? A voice without a body. Had the Holy Master truly revealed himself?

"Ah... Your Majesty, it is the Sir..."
"I heard him," King Zhou replied. "Sir, have you arrived?"

But why could they not see his noble form? It was truly eerie. What none of them knew was that, through the activation of his "Divine Insight," the entire Shang Dynasty was laid out beneath Chu Xiaoyu’s gaze. Even a dog peeing in a roadside thicket did not escape his notice.

"Ah... is that the Holy Master manifesting?"
"Holy Master... please bless us and protect us!"
"Glory to the Holy Master..."

The people below the Star-Picking Pavilion suddenly began to kowtow toward the mysterious sky.

"Hey, there is no need for that. Everyone, please get up."

He was no Holy Master; he was Chu Xiaoyu, a veritable, super-lazy salted fish.

"To hear the voice but not see the man—this Holy Master is truly formidable." The people continued their prostrations.

After the commotion lasted for about half an hour, the excited crowd finally calmed down. Then came the time to distribute the grain by head count. Each household received grain based on the number of people in the family—a system that was fair and just. If you had a larger family, you received more; if fewer, the opposite. The people had no objections to this reasonable and orderly system.

The distribution lasted from the morning until ten at night, with a small number of people still receiving their share.

A loud, thunderous boom echoed through the sky, startling everyone in the Shang. But after the deafening roar, brilliant, dazzling fireworks appeared in the mysterious sky.

Fireworks? What were those? Were they edible? For the first time in history, they witnessed that the dark night sky could be adorned so beautifully and brilliantly. It was truly magnificent!

"It is the work of the Sir! How incredible, how unbelievable!"
"How did the Sir do that?"

Boom! Boom!

"The Holy Master has manifested!"

Seeing the fireworks bloom, the people of the Shang knelt in devout worship. It was a grand day, a day worth celebrating. Every household in the Shang had received plenty of grain. Foods like sweet potatoes and potatoes could be stir-fried, boiled, or roasted—the methods were varied, and each person could choose their preference. However, most preferred them roasted; the fragrant aroma was the most delicious thing they had ever tasted in their lives, bar none.

In a dilapidated thatched cottage, the house was bare, with almost no furniture, and what little remained was broken and rotting. On a tattered bed lay an old woman, her face withered and sallow, like pickled greens left to bake in the sun. Her breathing was shallow, and her clouded eyes stared fixedly at the broken door, filled with a bleak sense of anticipation.

Suddenly, the wooden door creaked open, and a ragged man hurried in, holding a steaming roasted sweet potato.

"Mother, the roasted sweet potato is ready. Eat it while it's hot."
"Oh..."

The old woman was helped up, trembling. "My child, you must be starving too, right? You eat it first. You are the only laborer in this family; if you were to fall ill from hunger, there would be no one to bury my old bones when I die."

"Mother, don't say such nonsense. Never say that again. Because the Holy Master manifested, I received an extra portion of grain—enough to feed the three of us until next year, with some to spare."

"Ah... is there really such a blessing? Then the Holy Master..."
"The arrival of the Holy Master is a good omen for us people of the Shang."