Chapter Seventy-Seven: Dreaming of Past Lives in the Sea of Time

Countless lifetimes have ebbed and flowed in the ocean of time—how many have passed, I cannot say, nor do I know how many years have slipped away. In my former lives, I have been a farmer, a scholar, and even a nobleman, but what amuses me most is that, around the Sui dynasty, I was once a rascal. I say "around the Sui dynasty," but in truth, I am uncertain; I can only surmise based on the clothing of the era.

This Sui-dynasty rascal incarnation of mine is, without exaggeration, utterly ridiculous—enough to make anyone roar with laughter.

Apparently, this past self had the fortune, or perhaps the misfortune, to encounter a deity. Judging by appearances, this god called himself the God of Misfortune; emblazoned across his chest was the glaring character for "misfortune," making his presence impossible to ignore.

This rascal's name was Shangguan Yu, hailing from a family of considerable means. His father held a high position in court, though neither particularly upright nor especially corrupt. It was his shrewd mind that preserved the Shangguan lineage through the chaos of the Sui era.

Luckily for Shangguan Yu, his father was favored by the stars, shielded by the auspices of the Celestial Official and the Lord of Ziyang. Thus, the God of Misfortune, though ever-present, dared not act recklessly against Shangguan Yu.

But was this deity truly the God of Misfortune? He seemed more like the Star of Calamity, forever stationed at the Shangguan family’s gate with a broom in hand, ready to question Shangguan Yu the moment he appeared. Oddly enough, the scene was almost heartwarming.

Shangguan Yu was tall and thin—a classic scion of wealth and beauty—while the God of Misfortune manifested as a kindly middle-aged man, following him everywhere.

One day, the god revealed himself to Shangguan Yu, saying, "Young master, to tell you the truth, I am an immortal. In a past life, you once did me a kindness. Today, I have come to repay my debt and grant you one wish." As he spoke, the god transformed in a swirl of white smoke, revealing his true form: he resembled the God of Wealth, though where the God of Wealth bore the character for "fortune" and wore a bright red official's cap, this god’s chest displayed a dark, ominous "misfortune," and his distinguished hat was infamously named the "Hat of Misfortune’s Reign."

Time in the ocean flows in reverse, yet I watch it as though through a mirror. Shangguan Yu was a notorious playboy, lacking ambition, squandering his youth, indulging in idleness even into his twenties, caring nothing for learning or culture.

To have such a past life is truly embarrassing, enough to make me blush for him; yet, he himself felt not a shred of shame.

Born into an age shrouded in myth, eternally dissolute, Shangguan Yu was easily bewitched when his servant suddenly transformed before his eyes—emerging from a cloud of smoke as a deity.

Immediately, Shangguan Yu sidled up to the immortal, massaging his shoulders and grinning obsequiously. "So, Immortal, you said you’d repay my kindness. Then send me to the place with the most women!"

No sooner were the words out than the God of Misfortune replied, "That can be arranged." He seized Shangguan Yu’s shoulders, and with a leap, they vanished in a puff of smoke.

At that very moment, in some public women’s latrine of that ancient era, dozens of women were going about their business. Two beams of white light descended from the heavens—landing directly before the rows of privies.

Shangguan Yu and the God of Misfortune, still savoring the thrill of magical flight, lingered with their eyes closed. Shangguan Yu sniffed the air and muttered, "Immortal, something about this smell seems off..."

They opened their eyes, and the God of Misfortune’s face flushed crimson as he turned away. Even Shangguan Yu, whose skin was thicker than city walls and who had not blushed in a thousand years, found himself red-faced.

What happened next needs no elaboration.

A chorus of women shouted, "There’s a pervert here!" and, hastily pulling up their trousers, fled in all directions.

Shangguan Yu looked helplessly at the god. "Immortal, is this really your idea of the place with the most women? We’d better run!" He grabbed the God of Misfortune, and they dashed outside, crashing through the crowd. In no time, they were pursued by a mob of hundreds—brandishing hoes, sticks, shovels, and whatever farm tools they could find—shouting threats about breaking the legs of anyone who dared spy on their wives’ privacy.

Such escapades were countless. The God of Misfortune accompanied Shangguan Yu for eighty years, never leaving his side until his death. As Shangguan Yu lay dying, the god said, "Benefactor, go be reborn. In your next life, I’ll accompany you again."

The words had scarcely left his lips when Shangguan Yu breathed his last and departed for the underworld.

...

I do not know how much more time passed. The ocean of time receded all the way to the primitive age. Judging by the setting, it was the Shang dynasty—diviners and shamans were everywhere. But what did any of this have to do with me?

The tide of time slowed and finally paused at an altar. Everything here felt eerily familiar.

Yes, I remembered now. This was the place that often appeared in my dreams—the square altar, each side adorned with stone dragons, fierce beasts, and birds of prey, all exquisitely carved.

Everything now seemed clearer than ever before. I saw dozens of shamans nearby, draped in black robes and wearing tall black hats.

Until now, I had only ever heard their voices, unable to discern their forms. Now, at last, their figures emerged from the shadows, though their faces remained shrouded in darkness.

At last, the ocean of time stilled completely, as if frozen. The shamans’ chants echoed in my ears as they recited incantations towards a vague, indistinct figure.

Was it a person? I could not say. All I glimpsed was a blurry silhouette, seemingly bound to a colossal stone dragon.

I tried to move closer, to see more clearly, but suddenly my mind went blank. I opened my eyes to the real world, and found a face, all too familiar, leaning so close it was nearly pressed against mine.

Instinctively, I recoiled, narrowly dodging the surprise attack. Damn it, wasn’t this the Dean? What was he up to, taking advantage of me while I was unconscious?

I hurriedly pushed away the perverted Dean and scrambled to my feet. Thankfully, my clothes were still neat—perhaps I’d been overthinking things. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the old man was acting suspiciously.

Seeing me awake, the Dean promptly resumed his scholarly, refined posture, just as he had before I fainted, which left me speechless. This old rascal clearly couldn’t be trusted when I was unconscious!

...

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