Punished to Serve Him

The Celestial Emperor’s tribunal was not nearly as fun as the Underworld courts.

No snacks.

No bargaining.

Too much gold.

Too many immortals staring at me like I had personally broken the sky.

My father came to plead for me.

“She is young,” he said. “Immature. Beloved. Stupid, occasionally. But not malicious.”

“Dad.”

“I am helping.”

The Celestial Emperor looked at me.

I lowered my head.

For once, I had no joke.

I had ended Aurelian’s mortal trial.

Destroyed one rank of his ascension.

All because I saw a pretty woman feed him soup.

Eventually, the Emperor spoke.

“Because you are daughter of the Underworld Lord, and because High Celestial Aurelian still has opportunity to attempt ascension again, you will not be imprisoned.”

My father sagged in relief.

“You will serve in Aurelian’s residence until he completes his next ascension.”

I looked up.

Serve?

Aurelian?

Beside him?

Every day?

I tried very hard not to smile.

My father grabbed my hand.

“No, no. Your Majesty, my daughter is delicate. She has never served anyone. Perhaps peach harvesting? The orchards need workers.”

I squeezed his hand.

“Dad.”

“I can ask for library duty.”

“Dad.”

“What?”

“This punishment is acceptable.”

His face collapsed.

“My poor daughter.”

Poor?

I was moving into Aurelian’s house.

Tragic.

Utterly tragic.

Aurelian said nothing as I followed him back to his celestial residence.

His home was quiet.

White stone.

Still water.

Ancient trees.

Too clean.

Too peaceful.

Too vegetarian.

The first day, I followed him everywhere.

Hall.

Study.

Meditation platform.

Garden.

When he stopped before a door and turned, I almost ran into him.

He looked down at me.

“You intend to follow me inside?”

“Where?”

His expression was flat.

“The bathroom.”

I considered it.

He raised one eyebrow.

“Absolutely not,” I said quickly.

He shut the door in my face.

Serving a High Celestial, I soon learned, mostly meant watching him meditate.

Morning meditation.

Noon scripture.

Evening breath control.

Night stargazing.

No gossip.

No meat.

No entertainment.

I was going to die.

Again.

But Aurelian began teaching me.

Not gently.

He set barriers to keep me from running away.

He made me practice spiritual control.

He flicked my forehead whenever I lost focus.

To my shock, my power grew.

Within weeks, I broke through the barrier he placed around the garden.

I told no one.

Naturally, I used this sacred breakthrough to sneak home to the Underworld and eat.

Spicy crayfish.

Braised pork trotters.

Snail noodles.

Fried ghost dumplings.

I ate for half a day while watching mortal television.

My father wept.

“My daughter suffered so much in Heaven. Look at her. Starved.”

“Dad, that sounds less like concern and more like an insult.”

I hurried back before Aurelian noticed.

He was still meditating.

Perfect.

I sat beside him, arranged my robes, closed my eyes, and pretended innocence.

He stood.

Walked over.

Sniffed once.

“Did you eat excrement?”

My eyes flew open.

“You ate excrement!”

He lifted his sleeve.

A water mirror appeared in the air.

It showed everything.

Me breaking the barrier.

Me running to the Underworld.

Me eating crayfish with sauce on my face.

Me shouting at a cooking ghost to add more chili.

“You monitored me!”

“You escaped.”

“I needed food!”

“You smell like fermented snail noodles.”

“That is a delicacy.”

He stared at me.

Then sighed.

“Next time, tell me what you want to eat.”

I blinked.

“What?”

His voice softened slightly.

“The realms are unstable. Stay near me.”

That sounded almost like care.

I stared at his profile.

Maybe serving him would not be so terrible.

The next day, two meat dishes appeared on the table.

Aurelian picked up a piece of sweet-and-sour pork.

“This is for me,” he said.

He ate it.

His face immediately tightened like he had swallowed thunder.

Then he buried his suffering in rice.

I lowered my head and smiled.

High Celestial Aurelian, it seemed, was a terrible liar.