Chapter 15: Jiang Ziya Comes Down From Kunlun Mountain With A Mission #investitureofthegods #jiangziya #kingzhou #nezha #yan

The sources kick off with a poem, don't they? Setting a kind of grand, faded tone. They do. It hints at a long life, big destiny for Jiang Ziya. But then, bam, we're straight into the high drama up in the heavens. So what is actually going on up there on Kunlun Mountain that starts this whole epic story? Well, what's really striking is the sheer scale of it all. This isn't some small local spat. Yuan Shi Tianzhen, who's the big boss of the Chan school. A major immortal figure. Huge. He's got a massive problem. His 12 main disciples, these are top tier immortals, mind you. They're running into what the text calls red dust tribulations. Red dust tribulations. What exactly does that mean? Like, worldly problems? Exactly. Think of it as getting tangled up in human desires, politics, suffering, all the messy stuff that stops you from being purely spiritual. And it also mentions killing and punishment. Okay, that sounds serious. Not just metaphorical trouble, then. No, it implies a real cosmic shakeup. A time of serious trials, maybe even fighting between the different immortal groups. And it's not just their problem, it's part of a bigger divine plan from the top dog, Ha Tian Shang Di. The Jade Emperor. Right. He's basically ordered that the immoral chiefs need to come serve in his celestial court. There are vacancies, essentially. So, more than just a reshuffle, it's like a divine recruitment crisis that needs sorting out. And the sources mention this three religions discussion. Chan Ji and Ren Dao. And a plan for 365 new gods. Chan and Ji, those are the big immortal schools, rivals even. But Ren Dao is that the human path, humanity itself. That's a great way to put it, yeah. The path of humanity. It really underlines that this whole thing isn't just happening in the heavens, it's deeply connected to Earth. And 365 new gods? That's a huge number. Like building a whole new government branch, but celestial. It's a massive overhaul of the divine administration. And crucially, like you said, it's all tied into what's happening down below. The Shang Dynasty is on its way out, the Zhu Dynasty is rising. Right, the political shift on Earth. Precisely. So it begs the question, if even the gods are breaking precepts and messing up, and there are all these job openings upstairs, who gets the really tough assignment? And that's where Zhang Ziya comes in. Exactly. The sources make it crystal clear. His role in this whole investiture of the gods, the Fengshan, it's not random. He is destined, literally, for general and prime minister's fortune. His path is completely bound up with the fall of Shang and the rise of Zhu. He's meant to be the guy who makes it happen on Earth. Okay, so a huge cosmic backdrop. And then Yang Xinzun calls in Zhang Shang, that's Zhang Ziya who's 72. He went up the mountain at 30. 40 years. 40 years, thinking he's cultivating immortality. That's someone's entire working life. But here's the bit that really gets me. It's almost funny in a way. When the master asks him, okay, so what did you learn in 40 years? Zhang Ziya lists things like carrying water, watering pine trees, planting peaches, burning fires, fanning furnaces, refining elixir. Yeah, not exactly god-level skills, are they? They sound like chores. Like basic apprentice work maybe. Not deep spiritual secrets. And that detail is absolutely key. It totally challenges what we think spiritual training should look like, and it ties right back to what Yuan Shi tells him point blank. Zhang Ziya has a thin destiny. Meaning? Meaning he just doesn't have what it takes to become a full immortal. It's not in his nature or his fate. So his cultivation, those 40 years of chores, maybe it was a test of character, patience, diligence. Or just keeping him busy. Or just keeping him busy until his real job started. It kind of makes you picture his celestial CV reading, extensive experience in spiritual housekeeping. Right. Not master of cosmic energy. It completely flips the script on the usual hero's journey, you know? Where training directly leads to power. Here, training leads to a reassignment. Back to the mortal world. That's a really interesting take on those 40 years. But if he was always destined for Earth, why let him stay up there for four decades? Was it just that holding pattern? Or was there some kind of subtle training in those chores, preparing him? That's a fantastic question, and the text kind of leaves it open for us. It suggests maybe even the most boring tasks can be part of a divine plan. Maybe needing the patience to fan a furnace for decades. Or the humility to carry water. Exactly. Maybe that was the real training he needed for dealing with the messy human world with kings and politics. Yuan Shi Tianzun knew his destiny wasn't godhood. It was So the training was less about enlightenment and more about character building for management. You could say that. A very practical approach to divine intervention, almost. But even knowing this, even being told he has this thin destiny, Jian Xia does not want to go. He begs to stay. Says he wants to keep up his bitter practice. He's not interested in worldly stuff. Red dust bridges. You really feel for him there. We do. It's that reluctance, that disappointment. 40 years of dreaming shattered. He just wants to keep doing his chores, apparently, if it means staying out of the human mess. And that very human reaction, wanting to stick with what's familiar even when it's not working out, that's what makes him so relatable, even in this huge cosmic story. But Yuan Shi Tianzun, he's having none of it. He's firm. Absolutely firm. This is your destiny. You must obey heaven. End of discussion. It hammers home that theme of fate versus free will that runs through the whole story. Can't escape your fate. Not when the heavens decree it. Even if you're trying to become an immortal, another immortal, Nenjixian Wang, tries to soften the blow, tells him he will come back. Eventually. When his task is done. Right. So it's framed as temporary but still unavoidable. It really makes you think how much of our own lives are chosen and how much is just destiny playing out. That sense of unavoidable fate must be so overwhelming. So, okay, he's getting ready to leave Cologne. Probably still reeling, maybe tearful. Asking about his future. And Yuan Shi Tianzun gives him this eight line prophecy. Which is incredibly specific. It's like getting spoilers for your own lives handed down from on high. It's amazing literary foreshadowing, isn't it? And it just doubles down on that idea of an unchangeable destiny. The prophecy lays it all out. What does it say? It details his struggle. Says he'll face 20 years of continuous difficulty almost immediately. 20 years. Rough start. Right. Then it mentions him fishing with a rod on the Panstream Rock waiting for a wise person. Very specific image. Waiting for his big break, basically. Pretty much. Then it outlines his rise. Assisting a sage ruler as a prime minister and, get this, at 93 appointed general. 93? Wow. Still going strong. And it even times the investiture of the gods at 98. Then four more years. Good grief. That's a detailed life plan. It's an incredibly precise divine roadmap. Not much room left for free will there, is there? No kidding. It's one thing to know your general destiny, but to have ages-specific events while you're still processing, being kicked off the mountain. It almost takes the life out of living, doesn't it? It must be incredibly strange. So he says his goodbyes, heads down the mountain. He just feels completely lost. The text says he thinks I'm like a bird lost from its forest, nowhere to perch. He realizes he has no family left down there, nowhere to go after 40 years away. Such a human moment. Totally. Despite this grand divine mission, his first feeling is just being alone and displaced. And it grounds the whole epic story, makes it relatable. Even with a destiny from heaven, his immediate problem is intensely practical. Where do I sleep tonight? Who do I know? He's been in this immortal bubble for decades. Exactly. The everyday world is alien now, so he has to rely on human connection. He remembers his sworn brother, Song Yiren, down at Sheog. Right, his old friend. It shows that even these destined figures need earthly anchors. They need a place to belong. Someone who remembers them in a world that's moved on. So he uses his magic trick. The earth escape. Sip, and he's there. Hevlin's in Song Yiren's village. Notices the place looks the same, but the people are all different after four decades. And his brother, Song Yiren, just welcomes him back like he saw him yesterday. With open arms, and immediately starts criticizing the servant's tasks he was doing up on Krumlun. Song Yiren is pure practicality. Offers him a home, a fresh start. No questions asked about the four decade absence, apparently. Song Yiren is just such a contrast to the immortal world. He embodies all those earthly things Jemzia wanted to escape. He doesn't care about cosmic plans. He cares about his brother needing food and shelter. And a wife. That's the first big piece of advice he gives him. Almost immediately, he quotes that old saying. Among the three forms of unfilial conduct, having no heir is the worst. So priorities. Forget divine missions. You need to get married and have kids, even at 72. For Song Yiren, that's the number one earthly duty. Settle down, start a family, continue the line. And this is where the story takes that truly unique turn. Jemzia is understandably hesitant. He's like, uh, can we talk about this later? Kicking the can down the road. But Song Yiren, nope. He just barrels ahead, full steam. The very next day, he's already arranged a marriage, found a Missima, daughter of Mahong. He works fast. Incredibly fast. And here's the detail that just makes you stop and blink. Jemzia is 72. Missima is 68. Okay. And the text specifically says she's still a virgin. A long one newer. Wow. Okay. That is unexpected. Unexpected is putting it mildly. A 72 year old former immortal aspirant marrying a 68 year old virgin arranged overnight by his pragmatic brother. That detail is just designed to make you do a double take, isn't it? It's so unusual, even for the time period. It just highlights how almost comically mundane and yet somehow fated Jemzia's return to Earth is. It's Song Yiren's practical solution to the no air problem. Even-is, realistically. The chances seem slim at that age, yes. But it's this amazing reminder that even the guy chosen to oversee this massive divine event, the man who will help found a dynasty, still has to deal with awkward family matchmaking. Exactly. He has to navigate these incredibly human, slightly bizarre situations. And the text even frames the wedding itself as heavenly connections, not accidental. So even this was fated. The slightly awkward, geriatric marriage. Apparently so. It shows how destiny in this story weaves through everything. From cosmic battles down to who you marry, however unlikely it seems. It's all part of the plan. Jemzia's just gotten married. But he's not exactly, you know, celebrating. No, the text makes it really clear. His mind is still back on K'unlun Mountain thinking about the Great Dao, his spiritual path. He's deeply unhappy. Right. He's afraid he's lost his true purpose. Right. And his new wife, Ma Xi, she's watching him and basically thinking he's... Well, the text is useless. Which sounds harsh, but you can see her point right, from a practical standpoint. After about two months, she brings up a very real concern. What does she say? She points out that the support they're getting from Song Yiren, Ziya's sworn brother, isn't going to last forever. Her words are, no banquet lasts forever. Ah, okay, so it's a reality check. Exactly. It's about the societal expectation. You're married now, buddy. Time to provide. So she tells him straight up, do some business for their future. Okay, but what business can a guy fresh off a sacred mountain actually do? The sources say his only practical skill from Kunlun was weaving zaoli. Which are basically, uh, woven bamboo baskets. Like stringers or something? And Ma Xi, ever the pragmatist, points to the bamboo, right there in their backyard. Like, here you go, start weaving. It immediately shows you the disconnect, doesn't it? His skill is almost meditative. Not really commercial. She sees bamboo, she sees potential income, however small. Yeah, it's that classic clash. Spiritual dreams versus, well, paying the bills. So Zia gets to work, he weaves a whole load of these baskets and takes them off to Chayosh city to sell. And you gotta respect the effort here. The text says he tries all day long, from morning until late afternoon. And the result? Nothing. Doesn't sell a single one. Not one basket. Then he has to make that long trek home, it's 70, that's about 35 kilometers, right? Round trip. Ouch. And the text mentions his shoulders swollen. Just physically grueling and utterly demoralizing. Totally. And it leads to their first big fight. He gets home, exhausted, frustrated, and blames Mashi for sending him out. And how does she react? She fires right back. Says baskets are universally used, everyone needs them. So if he couldn't sell any, well, that's his fault. Ah, so it's not just about the baskets anymore, it's about his competence, his ability to function in the real world. It shows that fundamental gap between them. Definitely sets a tense mood. Luckily, Son Yarin steps in. Ah, the sworn brother. The generous one. Incredibly generous. He calms them down, says something like, hey, I could support 3 or 20 people easily, don't worry about it. He tells them not to argue over small stuff. He's trying to smooth things over, keep the peace, but you can see the underlying problem isn't solved. No kidding. But Son Yarin doesn't give up. He suggests another idea for Zia. Okay, what's next? Flour. They have some wheat that started to sprout, so Son Yarin suggests Zia grind it into flour and sell that. Seems more practical, right? Flour's a staple. Unspoilable, basically. A much more sensible product than Nisha baskets, you'd think. Less likely to fail. So Zia gives it a go. Venture number 2. He grinds a full load of flour, carries it to Cheoge, walks through all four city gates trying to sell it. And? Still nothing. No buyers. He's getting hungry, the load is heavy, his body aches. He's just miserable. This is where we get that really interesting moment, isn't it? He rests by the city wall. Yeah, and he composes this poem. It's really revealing. He writes, uh, Wow. That's pretty bleak. And then this line. Golden shackles and jade locks entangle me again. Golden shackles and jade locks. Clearly hinting at his marriage, right? These worldly ties, he feels, are trapping him. Exactly. It's a window into his soul. He feels trapped, pulled away from his spiritual path, forced into this life he hates. The contrast is just stark. His high aspirations and these crushing failures. It shows this isn't just about business failure for him. It's an existential crisis. But then, just as he's at his lowest, writing this poem, a glimmer of hope. A single buyer. Someone actually wants to buy some flour. Finally. A sale. Well, sort of. It's for just one fin of flour. Like a tiny, tiny amount. Barely anything. But still, it's something. Better than nothing, I suppose. What happens? Pure chaos. Absolute, unpredictable chaos. Zia bends down to scoop the flour. At that exact moment, because King Z's regime is, you know, chaotic and militaristic, there are military drills happening nearby. A cannon fires. Oh no. It spooks a horse. The horse bolts, gallops wildly, and gets its leg tangled in the ropes of Zia's flour baskets. You cannot be serious. Oh, I am. The horse drags the entire load, maybe 15, 20 meters, scattering flour everywhere. Then, because why not, a strong gust of wind comes along and blows every last speck away. Gone. Unbelievable. Zia tries to rush over, save something, but just ends up covered head to toe in flour himself. Empty baskets. Again. Okay, this is a major aha moment, right? This failure had almost nothing to do with Zia himself. Exactly. It was completely external. A chain reaction. Bad governance leading to military drills, a random cannon shot, a spooked animal, even the weather, jumping in with that gust of wind. It's a perfect storm. It powerfully shows that sometimes failure is genuinely not your fault. It's the system, the circumstances, just sheer random bad luck. It's our second big takeaway, really. Sometimes the universe just throws these absurd curveballs and you realize your effort was kind of irrelevant. So how does Machite take this news? Oh, it's brutal. He comes home, empty baskets, covered in flour. At first she actually thinks he sold out and is happy for a second. And then he tells her what happened. She explodes. The text says she spits directly on his face. Wow. That's incredibly harsh. A huge sign of contempt. Deeply shaming. And she calls him a rice bag and clothes rack. Basically, utterly useless, only good for eating and wearing clothes. Devastating. What a terrible thing to say. It escalates. They actually get into a physical fight this time. This is getting really bad. Does Song Yaren intervene again? Yes, thankfully. He and his wife, Sun Shi, break it up. And Song Yaren, incredibly, is still the optimist. He downplays it again. Says, Ooh, a few tails of flour, it's nothing. Let's just try something else. This patience is just remarkable. Or maybe denial. But his generosity is undeniable. It really is. So Song Yaren thinks, okay, baskets failed, flour failed spectacularly. What next? He comes up with his biggest plan yet. All right. Third time's the charm. Or maybe fourth, depending how you count. He decides to leverage his own success. He owns several businesses, right? So he puts Zia in charge of one of his restaurants, Deng's Restaurant, near the busy South Gate of Chez. Okay, now this sounds promising. An established business, prime location, resources. Exactly. They stock it up. Pigs, sheep, dim sum, wine. Everything's ready. It feels like, finally, this has to work. What could possibly go wrong here? You'd think nothing. Seems foolproof. All the previous risks seem mitigated. And yet, the universe has other plans. From morning until about 9 or 11 a.m., prime time, you'd think? Busy morning rush. Not a single customer. The text says, not even a ghost showed up. Dead quiet. Weird. In a busy area like the South Gate. Very weird. Then around noon, the other shoe drops. Torrential rain starts pouring down. Just buckets. Ah, the weather again. And it's hot weather, too. So what happens to all that carefully prepared food? Oh, no. It spoils. Instantly. The pork, the lamb, all the dishes ruined. The dim sum goes sour. The wine turns. Everything is lost. Zia just tells the staff, well, eat it if you want. Utter despair. Just wiped out by the rain and heat. Another force completely outside his control. Zia. He writes another poem. This one goes, Chulas Taiko. Which means? A phoenix's wings can soar 10,000 miles, but it must first fly over nine mountains. So, he still recognizes his potential, his destiny perhaps, but sees these massive, almost insurmountable obstacles in his path. The nine mountains of failure he has to cross first. Precisely. It's this mix of hope and utter frustration. This third failure really drives home the point about uncontrollable environmental factors, doesn't it? Even with a solid setup, nature can just wipe you out. That's our third insight. Some risks are just beyond mitigation. You'd think Song Yeren would finally cut his losses now. Three sprikes, right? Any sane person would, but Song Yeren. Nope. Still unwavering, he comforts Zia again, brushes off the losses and gives him 50 tails of silver. 50 tails? That's a serious amount of money back then. Huge. Enough to support a family for a good while. And he suggests Zia use it to buy and sell livestock. He even gives him a helper. Okay, what's the logic this time? Living things won't spoil. Seems rational, right? Unlike flour or prepared food. Yeah, you can see his thinking. He's trying to eliminate the previous failure points. Baskets didn't sell, flour got ruined by accident, the restaurant by weather. Livestock seems more robust. It feels like the safest bet yet. So Zia takes the silver, buys a load of pigs and sheep, and starts driving them towards Chozh City. This is venture number four. Feels like this one has to work. What could possibly stop him now? This is where the bigger picture, the whole context of King Zhu's misrule comes crashing down on him. How so? Well, the sources explain that because the king is corrupt, Daji is cruel, officials are rotten, heaven was displeased. Okay. And as a result, Chozh had suffered a terrible drought. No rain for half a year. Wow, a major crisis. Exactly. So, the king and everyone are desperately praying for rain. And what do they do to appease heaven? They issue a royal edict. An edict about what? Prohibiting slaughter and selling alcohol. Effective immediately. Notices posted everywhere. It's a citywide emergency measure. Oh, I see where this is going. Yep. Zia, driving his newly bought pigs and sheep, is completely unaware of this. The text says he missed the memo, basically. Didn't check the notices. And he walks right into it. Drives his livestock straight towards the city gates. He's immediately stopped by the guards for violating the prohibition. Oh, disaster. He panics and flees, but it's too late. All the animals, oxen, horses, pigs, sheep, everything he just bought with that 50 tails of silver. Confiscated. Every last one. Confiscated by the authorities. His entire capital just gone. He's left completely broke. And the text says, utterly ashamed. This is just devastating. And again, almost entirely out of his control. It brings up that huge question. How much is our fate really in our own hands? Right. This feels like the ultimate it's not you, it's the system moment. The king's bad rule leads to a natural disaster, which leads to a sudden law change that directly wipes out Zia's business. It wasn't his product, it wasn't an accident, it wasn't the weather this time. It was the direct consequence of the socio-political climate he was living in. This is our fourth big insight. A toxic or unstable environment can wreck even the best plans. So, four ventures, four total wipeouts, each for wildly different reasons. What's Song Yiren's reaction now? Surely this is the end. You'd absolutely expect him to finally lose it, but no. The text says his response is, again, remarkably calm. Still calm, after losing 50 tales of silver. Still calm. He consoles Zia again, brushes off the loss, and invites him to relax in his garden. Unbelievable. And this is where the chapter gives us that little glimmer of hope, right? Exactly. Right after this final disaster, the text adds this intriguing line, Zia's time has come, luck arrives. Ah, the turning point.