Volume One: River City Songs Chapter 18: Deities Sealed vs. Immortals Sealed

On the noon of the fifth day of August, Dai Chang’an finally stepped out of the newly opened Soft Jade Pavilion. Ever since he received a large sum of manuscript fees and rewards from the Wan family a couple of days ago, he had been indulging in this haven of pleasure, unable to extricate himself. It was only when his body could no longer bear it that he left.

Of course, if asked to explain, Dai Chang’an would claim he was gathering material and experiencing life firsthand so he could write more vivid and exciting action scenes. Yet, his pale face and weak, trembling legs told a different story.

Fortunately, he had not forgotten his identity. Before heading home, he deliberately detoured to a nearby bookstore to check on the sales of his book and to see if the fourth volume of The Investiture of the Gods had been published. Upon arriving, he saw several people crowding around the shop owner, asking about the book: “Shopkeeper, didn’t you say yesterday that the fourth volume of The Investiture of the Gods would arrive today? Why hasn’t it come yet? Are you playing us for fools?”

The bookstore owner, Mr. Liu, smiled wryly and explained, “That’s just what the Gu family bookstore told me a couple of days ago. I’ve already sent my staff over to hurry them up. Once the book arrives, I promise you’ll be the first to get it.”

No one had ever shown such keen interest in his work before, which made Dai Chang’an feel a bittersweet pang. He forced himself to remain optimistic: “Soon, my Legend of the Immortals will surpass The Investiture of the Gods and become the most sought-after tale in our county…”

Sure enough, he overheard someone mention his book, and Mr. Liu took the opportunity to recommend it to those customers: “If you’re eager to read The Investiture of the Gods, I also have several volumes of The Legend of the Immortals, which is quite captivating. It has already reached its fourth volume and is cheaper—only ten taels for all four volumes.”

“Legend of the Immortals? I’ve heard of it before. Is it good? How does it compare to The Investiture of the Gods?” someone asked, intrigued.

“In my opinion, it’s not much different. Mr. Chang’an writes quickly, and some parts are even more interesting than The Investiture of the Gods,” the shopkeeper said with a suggestive smile.

Before the questioner could respond, another customer scoffed dismissively, “I’ve read that book. Its plot is almost identical to The Investiture of the Gods, with no originality at all. Not worth the time.”

“Exactly. Cheap goods are never good. Plus, it contains content that’s quite offensive to refined tastes—truly unbearable!” added another.

Hearing such harsh judgments, those initially interested lost their enthusiasm. “I’ll wait for The Investiture of the Gods to come out. That book is much more satisfying to read.”

All these remarks reached Dai Chang’an’s ears, and his cheeks flushed red. Breathing heavily, he stormed into the bookstore and confronted the two who criticized his novel: “On what grounds do you claim Legend of the Immortals can’t compare to The Investiture of the Gods? Whether in writing style or story, what makes it inferior?”

They were taken aback by his reaction. One laughed, “Why so angry? Are you the author of Legend of the Immortals?”

“N-no, of course not!” Dai Chang’an calmed slightly and didn’t admit his identity. “I just think Mr. Chang’an’s work is quite good…”

“That’s because you haven’t read The Investiture of the Gods. To me, Legend of the Immortals is just a copy of that story, with some indecent content that’s been common in many romantic novels. Even Mr. Chang’an’s earlier works had similar parts. So, in my opinion, there’s no way Legend of the Immortals can stand against The Investiture of the Gods!”

“You…” Dai Chang’an’s blood boiled at having his book dismissed so bluntly. He wanted to shout that he was the author and that this was his heartfelt creation. Yet, the words caught in his throat.

At that moment, a cart piled high with books slowly arrived. Mr. Liu spotted it and called out loudly, “Here it is—the fourth volume of The Investiture of the Gods! Who’s ready to buy?”

He half-feared those arguing inside might come to blows. Indeed, upon hearing this, everyone’s attention shifted. They eagerly watched as the assistants carried stacks of books into the store, then crowded around the owner to pay and snatch copies. Mr. Liu grinned from ear to ear, handing out books and money, saying, “Don’t worry, we have a hundred copies, so no one will leave empty-handed.”

Some impatient buyers flipped through their new books immediately. After only a few pages, one exclaimed excitedly, “Xiaoyaozi’s writing has improved again! Wow, the Ten Absolute Formation is so powerful—the three hundred Zhou soldiers turned into blood mist in an instant! What will happen next…”

“Hey, if you want to read and discuss, go home! We haven’t even finished yet!” someone nearby grumbled, prompting the first to laugh and apologize before hurriedly leaving.

Watching this scene, Dai Chang’an felt a pang of jealousy. After sulking for a while, he spent five taels to buy a copy himself. After all, he hoped to draw inspiration from The Investiture of the Gods to continue his own Legend of the Immortals.

With a heavy heart, Dai Chang’an returned home, ignoring his wife’s concerned inquiries. He locked himself in his study and began speed-reading the book. He read until dusk, when the fading light made the characters hard to see, and only then did he stop.

Gone was his earlier resentment. Instead, his eyes were filled with helplessness and disappointment. Reluctantly, he had to admit he was far inferior to Xiaoyaozi. Judging by the first three volumes, he had thought himself no weaker; he believed he could write similar scenes. But after reading most of the new volume, that notion vanished.

The grand battles involving thousands of soldiers, the intricate and deadly Ten Absolute Formation, and the tactics used by the Western Qi side alongside the Taoist immortals to break the formation—he had never imagined such scenes, not even in his dreams. Had the book not described it all, he wouldn’t have conceived such twists.

Finally, the vivid characters—Nezha, Yang Jian, Jiang Ziya, and even antagonists like Wen Zhong and Zhao Gongming—leapt off the page, leaving a profound impression. This was far beyond what his Legend of the Immortals had achieved. Even if he wanted to borrow or adapt parts, he couldn’t find a way unless he copied wholesale, which would only invite more scorn.

For a time, his confused mind even entertained giving up on continuing the Legend of the Immortals.

Even an author like Dai Chang’an, who had written over ten novels, was captivated by the new volume of The Investiture of the Gods. Other readers were even more enthusiastic. Some marveled at the epic battle scenes; others admired the exquisite duels between the two forces; many sympathized with the characters’ fates.

Within just a few days, the fourth volume became the talk of Jiangcheng County. Regardless of whether they read the novel, people everywhere discussed and praised its contents.

Particularly in the county school, nearly every student had a copy. Whenever they tired of reading or composing essays, they would gather to discuss the novel’s highlights. Among them, Qi Qing was the most avid, forsaking even his chess games to pore over The Investiture of the Gods with classmates, eagerly speculating on future developments.

“What do you think Zhao Gongming’s three sisters will do to avenge his death?”

“Why do you assume the Three Mist Immortals would rebel against the heavenly order? They have always been clear-headed and understood that the heavenly law cannot be overturned by a few minor sects like the Xiejiao.”

“But the book subtly hints at the deep bond between the three sisters and Zhao Gongming. Now that he’s been killed, they’d naturally seek revenge. Zhao Gongming was a straightforward man, but unfortunately, he was outwitted by Lu Ya. Such a shame.”

“The greatest pity is Wen Zhong, Grand Tutor Wen. He was the pillar of the nation, devoted to the people, yet because of King Zhou’s tyranny, he was driven down a doomed path.”

“It’s frustrating that Xiaoyaozi wrote them so vividly.”

“Still, I prefer Nezha. That lotus incarnation is truly formidable—many soul-targeting moves are ineffective against him. Plus, he’s such an interesting character…”

“I like Yang Jian better. His seventy-two transformations are amazing…”

“Lei Zhenzi’s ability to fight while flying and unleash thunder is dazzling…”

“I actually find Daji more captivating…”

The last remark abruptly silenced everyone, their faces contorting into strange expressions.

With such a surge in popularity, Li Ling’s new volume of The Investiture of the Gods saw soaring sales. Not only did those who had bought the first three volumes rush to get the new one, but newcomers, drawn by the discussions, also flocked to purchase the complete set. Even those who rarely read novels, if they had the means, bought several volumes to indulge themselves, since entertainment options were scarce.

Within just seven or eight days of its release, over a thousand copies of the new volume sold, boosting sales of the previous three volumes by a couple of hundred copies as well.

It was clear that with the release of the fourth volume, any comparison between The Investiture of the Gods and Legend of the Immortals had become utterly meaningless. It was a crushing victory. Since the fifth day, Legend of the Immortals had not sold a single copy. Its remaining volumes sat gathering dust on bookstore shelves—truly pitiable in comparison.

The first round of competition between the Gu family and Wan family bookstores had thus been decisively settled.