Heaven Official's Blessing: Vol. 1

“‘There is nothing wrong with saving people. Why would the heavens condemn me for doing the right thing?’ Uh…but what if the heavens do condemn you? ‘Then it is the heavens who are wrong. Why would I apologize to those who are wrong?’”

In the midst of an important and elaborate religious festival, Xie Lian halts the proceedings to save a young boy who has fallen from a ledge. This quote reveals both his unwavering moral conviction and his naivety. His belief that righteousness should be absolute—regardless of divine authority—sets him apart from other heavenly officials, who prioritize rituals and power over individual lives. However, the novel clarifies that the gods do not share Xie Lian’s values. Instead of admiring his heroism, they are more likely to be outraged that he disrupted the festival, reducing the number of merits they would receive and illustrating the theme of Power and Corruption. Xie Lian’s words suggest an unshakable confidence in his own moral compass, implying that divine authority should be questioned if it contradicts basic human compassion. His defiance of the gods foreshadows the novel’s central conflict of how righteousness can exist in a system that punishes selflessness. His assertion—“Then it is the heavens who are wrong”—is particularly striking in a world where the gods are seen as the ultimate arbiters of justice. However, as the story unfolds, Xie Lian learns that righteousness does not always lead to reward, and his defiance comes at a great personal cost.

“‘The crown prince replied with his now-famous line: ‘Body in the abyss, heart in paradise.’ […] The person who had said those words had personally proven that when the body was in the abyss, the heart could not be in paradise.”

Xie Lian first utters this famous line after defeating a vengeful ghost. By planting a flowering tree at the site of the ghost’s fall and consecrating its grave, he demonstrates his deep respect for all beings, including those deemed irredeemable. This moment encapsulates his youthful idealism—his belief that one can maintain inner peace even in suffering. It also led to Xie Lian’s first ascension. However, as the novel unfolds, it becomes clear that this sentiment is more aspirational than true. The older Xie Lian, hardened by experience, regards his past words with shame, recognizing that they no longer reflect his reality. Time and suffering have taught him that pain cannot simply be ignored or transcended by sheer willpower. The contrast between his youthful proclamations and his later disillusionment underscores one of the novel’s central themes: the gap between idealism and lived experience.

“When the people call you a god, you are a god. If they call you crap, you are crap. You are whatever they say you are. It had always been thus.”

This quote highlights divinity’s fragile and subjective nature in the novel. A god’s status is not inherent but determined by public perception, making faith a double-edged sword that can elevate or destroy. Xie Lian, who experiences both worship and disgrace, embodies this reality, showing how the will of the people shapes even the divine. The novel critiques the instability of power and questions whether gods truly possess authority or are merely reflections of mortal belief, thus illustrating both the themes of Power and Corruption and The Illusion of Truth. This idea—that perception dictates reality—is echoed throughout the novel, as figures like Hua Cheng and Pei Ming defy their prescribed roles, proving that reputation does not equal truth.

“He was once the noble and gracious crown prince, a heavenly official who was part of the divine ranks. But in truth, no one else had ever screwed up so badly. And so, this was the story of the man who was known as the laughingstock of the three realms.”

This quote encapsulates the novel’s exploration of how perception shapes reality, particularly in the eyes of society. The author employs dramatic irony by presenting Xie Lian’s downfall as an undeniable failure, only for later volumes to reveal a more nuanced truth. His status as the “laughingstock of the three realms” reflects not his character but the fickleness of public opinion and the gods’ indifference to genuine virtue. This reinforces the theme of the illusion of truth, as Xie Lian’s story is dictated not by his actions but by how others choose to interpret them. The greatest irony lies in how he, despite his unwavering kindness and selflessness, is condemned more harshly than those who are truly corrupt, underscoring the novel’s critique of Power and Corruption, reputation, and moral hypocrisy. His journey illustrates the fallacy of divine judgment—his exile does not reflect his failures but the failings of the system that cast him out.

“A ‘fierce’ murdered one, a ‘malice’ could murder a sect, a ‘wrath’ could slaughter an entire city. As for the most fearsome ‘supremes,’ once they were born into this world, they were destined to bring ruin to nations and people and complete disorder everywhere.”

This quote introduces the rigid classification system for ghosts, reinforcing the belief that strength and destruction are inherently linked. However, the novel challenges this idea by revealing the hypocrisy within the heavenly court—gods are just as capable of destruction as ghosts, yet their actions are often excused or justified. Moreover, the story subverts these rigid labels by depicting wrath-level ghosts like Banyue, who strive to help others, and supremes like Hua Cheng, whose loyalty and kindness contradict his fearsome reputation. This contrast underscores the novel’s broader theme: Morality is not determined by status but by individual choices, exposing the flawed and biased nature of divine judgment.

“The bandaged boy, the ‘wrath’ ghost groom, the ‘near-supreme’ Green Ghost, and that powerful, influential master of the silver butterflies, who made all heavenly officials turn pale at the mere mention of his name. To think this small Mount Yujun would see a never-ending flow of strange guests. This was truly a tough case to deal with. Who was who? What was the relationship between who and who?”

This quote highlights the theme of the illusion of truth by emphasizing Xie Lian’s confusion as he struggles to untangle the web of identities and relationships surrounding the Mount Yujun mission. The question “Who was who?” reflects not only his immediate uncertainty but also the broader narrative’s recurring discussion of mistaken identity and hidden truths. Throughout the novel, many characters are not what they initially seem—Hua Cheng, feared as a Ghost King, is one of the most devoted and kind figures, while Pei Xiu, a respected general, is revealed to be complicit in great atrocities. At the same time, the author acknowledges the complexity of her own storytelling, as unraveling identities and relationships is central to Heaven Official’s Blessing and all of the characters mentioned play crucial roles in the series. This moment of self-awareness adds a layer of meta-humor, inviting readers to engage with the novel’s intricate mysteries while recognizing the deliberate challenge posed by its twisting narrative.

“I don’t know the right and wrong of all this either. I only know that if General Xuan Ji was willing to let go, things wouldn’t have to be this way.”

General Pei Junior’s words reflect the novel’s exploration of moral ambiguity, emphasizing how Heaven Official’s Blessing resists simplistic notions of good and evil. Rather than offering a clear judgment, he acknowledges the complexity of the situation, suggesting that resolution depends not on absolute justice but on personal choice. His statement also highlights the tendency of powerful figures to shift blame, as he downplays General Pei and the heavenly officials’ responsibility while framing Xuan Ji’s inability to “let go” as the root cause of the conflict. This moment encapsulates the novel’s broader critique of divine authority and Power and Corruption, showing how those in power often manipulate morality to absolve themselves.

“Even then, there were still many mysteries and aftermaths left for him to deal with. Maybe he’d raise a bard banner and roam the world telling tales of how collecting scraps was better than ascension.”

Xie Lian reflects on the unresolved complexities of his life and the disillusionment he feels toward ascension. His contemplation of “collecting scraps” as superior to ascension reveals his deep disillusionment with ideals of power and glory, preferring the authenticity and freedom of wandering the world instead. This rejection of celestial authority mirrors Hua Cheng’s own disdain for the system, as both characters find meaning outside of the structures that have failed them. This highlights the theme of The Illusion of Truth, self-realization, and the rejection of traditional values in favor of personal growth and understanding.

“Regarding fighting for and protecting of one’s land, it was said that the success of a general is built on the bones of millions. To reach godhood, one must first become a hero, but the path a hero walked was always bloody. Fu Yao concluded, ‘In the Upper Court, there aren’t many who are trustworthy and worth meeting.’”

This quote explores the theme of power and corruption, highlighting the brutal reality behind the pursuit of power. The observation that a general’s success is built on the bones of millions illustrates the inherent violence and sacrifice required to attain godhood. Power in the novel does not necessarily reflect righteousness. The statement about the Upper Court, with few trustworthy individuals, further reveals the corruption at the highest levels, where those in power are often unworthy of trust and tainted by the compromises they make to maintain their status. This quote also reflects Xie Lian’s journey—his fall from grace exposed the flaws of the system, and while he still seeks to help others, he no longer believes in the celestial bureaucracy’s ability to enact justice.

“Everyone was already of the opinion that this sin was all General Pei’s to bear, though no one said it out loud. Yet he noticed, and spoke of it so openly in this reminder that it shut everyone up and made them hide their real thoughts deeper within.”

This quote reveals the theme of power and corruption through the subtle manipulation of General Pei Junior. By openly shifting the blame for Xuan Ji’s actions to the Green Ghost Qi Rong, he uses his authority to silence others, forcing them to suppress their true opinions despite their disagreement. The tension between spoken and unspoken thoughts exposes how power dynamics can distort the truth and compel people to conform, even when they know the reality of the situation. In this way, General Pei Junior’s comment not only manipulates perception but also highlights the corrupting effect of power, where influence masks accountability and protects personal interests.

“Some say he was born without a right eye and was bullied and humiliated for it since birth, so he was filled with hatred for the world. Some say he was a young soldier who died in a lost battle for his country and later came to walk the earth in resentment. Some say he was a fool who was tormented by the death of his love; some even say he was a monster. In the most outrageous version, supposedly—only supposedly!—Hua Cheng ascended and became a god but immediately jumped back down on his own and became a ghost. But that version wasn’t widespread. No one knew if it was true or false, and not many believed it. It had to be false, though; even if it were true, it’d be a complete embarrassment for the heavens if someone ditched a heavenly official role to become a ghost.”

This quote exemplifies the theme of the illusion of truth, as it presents multiple conflicting and exaggerated stories about Hua Cheng’s past, each colored by rumor and speculation. MXTX employs dramatic irony by revealing partial truths within these accounts, which mislead the characters and readers alike, setting the stage for later revelations. The ambiguity surrounding Hua Cheng’s origins reflects how truth is often shaped by perception, and how personal biases and societal judgments can distort reality. Through this, the author critiques how myths and rumors can obscure the deeper, more complex truths of a character’s identity and history.

“The Prince of Xianle, ascended thrice as: a Martial God, a Misfortune God, a Rubbish God. ‘…Well, all right,’ Xie Lian said out loud. ‘If you think about it, a martial god is no different than a rubbish god. All gods are equal. All beings are equal.’ A snicker came from behind, and a voice said, ‘Is that right? […] People naturally love saying that all gods are equal and all beings are equal, but if that were true, then pretty much all those different gods wouldn’t exist.’ […] Further down the line read: Many believe that, as the God of Misfortune, any paintings or writings of the Prince of Xianle have the powers of a curse. If placed on the back of a person, or on the main entrance of a household, then the cursed person or household will run into all sorts of bad luck… …It was hard to tell whether this was a description of a god or a ghost.”

This quote examines the theme of the illusion of truth, particularly regarding equality, contrasting Xie Lian’s idealistic view with the harsh reality of divine hierarchies. Xie Lian’s belief that “all gods are equal” follows the conventional understanding of divinity. However, the sarcastic San Lang exposes the irony behind this notion—if all gods were truly equal, there would be no need for such distinctions between divine roles. The description of the Prince of Xianle’s contradictory ascensions as a Martial God, Misfortune God, and Rubbish God further emphasizes the fluidity and ambiguity of divinity in the story, suggesting that gods are not above earthly flaws but shaped by perception and circumstance. Through this, the author critiques the ideal of equality in a world where power and influence are shaped by status and role.

“‘If one got ahold of a ghost’s ashes, one could take command of said ghost. If the ghost disobeyed, then by getting rid of the ashes, the ghost would dissolve and its soul disintegrate.’ […] ‘There’s probably no one who can obtain his ashes, so that weakness is the same as having no weakness.’ ‘You never know,’ the youth said. ‘There are circumstances where a ghost would voluntarily give away his ashes.’ […] ‘There’s a custom in the Ghost Realm where if a ghost has a special someone, they entrust their ashes to that person.’”

This quote serves as a key exposition, establishing ghosts’ vulnerability through their ashes, which can control or destroy them. The mention of a ghost’s ashes being entrusted to a special person introduces a crucial aspect of the Ghost Realm’s culture and foreshadows a significant plot development. The concept of voluntarily giving away one’s ashes hints at a deeper emotional bond, which later becomes a pivotal moment in the narrative when Hua Cheng entrusts his ashes to Xie Lian through the ring. This moment highlights the themes of love, trust, and sacrifice, suggesting that true power and vulnerability lie in strength and willingness to share one’s most fragile parts with another. It also contrasts with the celestial realm, where power is guarded and manipulated rather than freely given, reinforcing the novel’s critique of control within the divine hierarchy.

“‘He prevented his enemies from killing civilians of the Central Plains, and he also blocked his own army from killing the people of Banyue. Every time he did this, he got demoted a rank.’ […] ‘One must do the duty demanded by their position. If he became a soldier, then he must always remember to defend his country and kill enemies on the front lines. Casualties are inevitable in war. Such softheartedness has no place in war and will only drag down his fellow soldiers. His enemies will also think him foolish. No one will thank him in the end.’ Fu Yao’s words had irrefutable logic […] ‘People like that only have one end: death. They will either die in battle or at the hands of their own people.’”

General Hua’s story illustrates the stark contrast between Xie Lian’s ideals and the brutal pragmatism of war, revealing the tension between moral compassion and military duty. Fu Yao’s perspective reflects the harsh reality of the Heavenly Realm’s view on power and duty—where empathy and reluctance to cause harm are seen as weaknesses that endanger both the individual and their comrades. In contrast, Xie Lian’s repeated acts of mercy, blocking his own forces from killing civilians, highlight his unwavering moral compass, even at the cost of personal and professional loss. This disparity in views illustrates the broader theme of the struggle between personal integrity and societal or institutional expectations, with Fu Yao’s belief in the inevitability of death for those like Xie Lian foreshadowing the tragic consequences of adhering to a softer, more humane approach in a corrupt and unforgiving world.

“‘Really. I don’t feel pain anymore,’ Xie Lian answered honestly. […] Xie Lian was someone who possessed the worst of luck, so when he ventured deep into the mountains, eight times out of ten he would step on vipers or run into venomous insects and get bitten, stung, jabbed, or poisoned in thousands of ways. However, he’d always been very stubborn at not dying, and at most he’d run a fever. After three days and three nights of fever, he’d wake up right as rain and continue on as if nothing had happened. He simply wasn’t sensitive to pain. So as much as it hurt, he could live with it.”

This seemingly casual statement by Xie Lian reveals a deeper layer of his character, emphasizing his emotional and physical resilience in the face of constant hardship. His indifference to pain is not innate but a learned response to the repeated trauma he has endured, whether from his disastrous ventures or the unrelenting challenges he faces. Xie Lian’s ability to shrug off physical injury, even to the point of seemingly not feeling pain, reflects the emotional numbness that comes from surviving repeated tragedies and misfortune. This indifference foreshadows the darker, more tragic history behind his unyielding determination, suggesting that his ability to endure suffering is rooted in an acceptance of pain as an inevitable part of his existence.

“It was impossible to stop stubborn people who refused to listen to reason.”

This quote reflects both the stubbornness of others and, more subtly, Xie Lian’s own persistence in the face of adversity. While Xie Lian initially refers to the merchants Fu Yao guards, the author uses a playful tone to subtly highlight that Xie Lian himself embodies this same stubbornness, often refusing to heed warnings or listen to reason. Despite being told to leave Banyue Pass alone, he chooses to pursue the investigation, undeterred by the risks or the possibility of failure. This underscores Xie Lian’s defining character trait—his relentless determination—and foreshadows the broader theme of his unyielding pursuit of justice, even when it leads him into danger or conflict.

“It’s not important whether you’re human or not, […] Forming a friendship should depend on how well two people hit it off and how well their personalities match, not their identities. If I like you, you could be a beggar and I’d still like you. If I dislike you, you could be the emperor and I’d still dislike you. Shouldn’t it be like that? It’s simple logic, so whether you’re human or not is irrelevant.”

Xie Lian shares his perspective on the nature of relationships, emphasizing that true connection transcends external identities like being human. His belief that friendship should be based on personal compatibility rather than societal status or race challenges the rigid classifications of the world around him, suggesting a more authentic, emotion-driven approach to relationships. In the context of his realization of San Lang’s true nature, Xie Lian’s response demonstrates his disregard for superficial labels, as he values the bond they share over the mystery of San Lang’s identity. This highlights the illusion of truth, for though conventional wisdom states that Xie Lian should fear San Lang, Xie Lian treats him no differently after confirming San Lang is a ghost.

“We’ve never had heavenly officials visit before. I thought you all already abandoned this place.”

Banyue’s words reveal the Heavenly Realm’s neglect and abandonment of places like Banyue Pass, highlighting the theme of power and corruption. Although a heavenly official (General Pei Junior) occasionally visits in disguise, his presence is not to address the root causes of the unrest but rather to placate the ghosts, reflecting the superficial and self-serving nature of the Heavenly Realm’s involvement. Banyue’s observation foreshadows later events, highlighting heaven’s deeper abandonment of the pass, driven by fear of General Pei’s wrath rather than a genuine desire to address the suffering. This dynamic reveals the corruption within the Heavenly Realm, where the gods prioritize their own safety and reputation over the well-being of those they should protect.

“The Upper Court wouldn’t bat an eyelash at something like this; everyone needed to spill some blood if they wanted to do great things. But slaughtering a city wasn’t anything glorious, after all. If the story spread too far, it would affect the number of new believers, so of course there would be some cover-ups after ascension.”

Xie Lian reflects upon the power and corruption within the Heavenly Realm, where the heavenly officials view mass violence as an acceptable cost of achieving great deeds, highlighting their moral detachment and ruthless pragmatism. Xie Lian’s reflection reveals the stark contrast between the officials’ indifference to bloodshed and the potential consequences of such actions in the mortal world, where such events could damage their divine image and hinder their influence. The acknowledgment that the massacre would be covered up for the sake of protecting the reputation of the gods underscores the realm’s priorities—preserving power and control, even at the cost of truth.

“Both sides had their stories; just listening to them argue befuddled Xie Lian. This hostility was making him remember how badly he got beaten up, stuck in between both sides, and he could feel the pain on his face resurface. Pei Xiu seemed to have had enough of quarreling with Kemo, and he turned to Xie Lian. ‘So you see, there are many things in the world that simply cannot be clearly defined or resolved. You can only fight.’ Xie Lian sighed. ‘I’ll agree to the first part.’ San Lang, on the other hand, said, ‘Hm. I’ll agree to the second part.’”

This quote highlights the theme of the illusion of truth, as it illustrates the complexity and subjectivity of moral conflicts. Both sides in the argument present their versions of events, leaving Xie Lian caught in the middle, overwhelmed by the contradictions, and unable to find a clear resolution. His reflection on the pain of being trapped between opposing forces reveals his recurring role as a mediator, yet also emphasizes his inability to find peace or be fully trusted by either side. Meanwhile, the contrasting responses of Xie Lian and San Lang to Pei Xui’s pronouncement—Xie Lian’s resigned agreement and San Lang’s more pragmatic acceptance—further illustrate their complementary personalities, with Xie Lian’s idealism clashing with San Lang’s more cynical realism.

“‘She didn’t hurt anyone and even saved people. The only ones I’m taking are General Pei Junior and Kemo; you don’t have to worry about me placing undue blame on anyone.’ Xie Lian relaxed. ‘Much ashamed! I was suspicious.’ ‘It’s normal to worry,’ the Wind Master said. ‘There’s certainly an unpleasant culture in the Upper Court, after all.’”

This quote reveals the deep-rooted power and corruption within the Heavenly Realm, highlighting Xie Lian’s concerns about the unjust treatment of Banyue. His worry that General Pei’s influence might sway Lord Wind Master into shifting the blame onto Banye reflects his awareness of how easily blame can be manipulated in a corrupt system. Lord Wind Master’s understanding of Xie Lian’s suspicion and her acknowledgment of the unpleasant culture in the Upper Court illustrates her disillusionment with the system. By forgiving Xie Lian’s doubts and allowing Banyue to stay with him, she demonstrates empathy and subtly criticizes the hypocrisy and manipulation that pervades the Heavenly Realm.

“‘I wanted to do as General Hua said and save the people, […] But in the end, I destroyed the Kingdom of Banyue. […] And it seemed that no matter what I did…the results were all horrible. General Hua, I know I didn’t do things right, but can you tell me, where did I go wrong? How can I do as you said and…save the common people?’ […] Xie Lian replied, ‘I’m sorry, Banyue. How to save the world, the common people…I didn’t know the answer to that question back then, and even now I still don’t.’ Banyue was silent for a moment, then said dejectedly, ‘General Hua, to be honest, it feels like for the past two hundred years, I’ve had no idea what I’m doing. I’m such a failure.’”

This quote highlights the deep emotional turmoil and self-doubt both Banyue and Xie Lian experience in their shared mission to save the common people, exposing the gap between their ideals and the harsh realities of their actions. Banyue’s feeling of failure underscores the disillusionment of trying to protect others while inadvertently causing harm, reflecting their choices’ complexities and unintended consequences. Xie Lian’s admission that he, too, has never had the answer to how to truly “save the world” emphasizes the discussion of uncertainty in leadership and the difficulty of living up to the ideal of selfless service. Together, their exchange speaks to the broader existential crisis those in power face—struggling to reconcile their noble intentions with the results of their actions, ultimately questioning the notion of Redemption and Forgiveness.

“They’re heavenly officials. Mortals are nothing but ants in their eyes. Pei Xiu is a classic highly ranked god. As long as no one found out, killing a few hundred people is no different than stomping a few hundred insects to death.”

Hua Cheng critiques the Power and Corruption inherent in the Heavenly Realm, highlighting the heavenly officials’ stark disregard for the mortals they are supposed to serve. His comparison of mortals to “ants” emphasizes the gods’ dehumanizing view, reducing human lives to mere insignificant details in their pursuit of power and reputation. Hua Cheng’s reflection on General Pei Junior’s actions reveals a stark contrast between the officials’ obsession with maintaining their status and the indifference to the suffering they cause, exposing the moral decay of a system that values reputation over the welfare of its people.