If the King were to receive the blessing of Nuwa, Great Shang would surely thrive throughout the seasons, and its reign would last long!

This is indeed the virtue that blesses the country and protects the people. Your Majesty should proceed to offer incense.

Di Xin nodded upon hearing this and laughed, "Indeed, it is Uncle Wang who is learned and knows so much about the ancient and extraordinary. Since Nuwa is the Holy Mother of the Human Race, I shall then go to offer incense."

Having said this, he turned his head towards Shang Rong and said firmly, "This matter shall be entrusted to you, my dear official. Also, send another order to Huang Feihu, telling him to temporarily withdraw his forces. There's no need to return to Chaoge, just station in the southeast to strictly guard Linhuan Pass from rebel incursion!"

Shang Rong quickly knelt down and said, "I will heed the King's command with diligence!"

Di Xin stood up and with a flick of his robe, said, "I am tired, let's end the court session."

Having spoken, he turned and strode toward the back hall.

All the civil and military officials knelt down: "We respectfully bid farewell to the King!"

...

On the fifteenth day of the third month, the day of Nuwa's sacred birth, according to the Human Race's widespread tradition.

At dawn of this day, just as the Taiyang had risen, every household in Chaoge City had already started burning incense and setting fires, decorating with colored ribbons and spread carpets.

One reason was to celebrate the sacred birth of Nuwa, and the other was to prepare for the rituals due to the King's outing.

Of course, this was not a voluntary act by the populace.

After having his breakfast, Di Xin also burnt incense and bathed, and then he climbed aboard the treasure carriage to go outside the city.

Under the escort of three thousand elite soldiers and numerous civil and military officials, he made his grand way to the Nuwa Temple.

At this moment, the Nuwa Temple was already tightly surrounded by guards, and many ministers could not squeeze inside. They could only wait anxiously outside.

Di Xin disembarked from the treasure carriage and, surrounded by a throng of guards and officials, entered the temple to reach the Main Hall where the statue of Nuwa was enshrined.

The hall was built very spacious and bright, with only the statue of Nuwa worshipped in the center. Aside from a maid statue on each side, there were no other statues.

The rites of sacrifice were very complicated.

However, Shang Rong had already prepared everything, so all Di Xin needed to do was follow the prompts.

Even so, by the time the entire set of rituals, including burning incense and praying, was finished, the Taiyang had already begun to lean west.

Fortunately, Di Xin was young and vigorous, full of energy, and didn't feel tired at all. Instead, he became even more interested and did not rush back to the palace, but strolled around in the temple.

Poor Shang Rong, old and frail, was exhausted after the ceremony, but he still patiently dragged his weary body to accompany Di Xin as they toured the Nuwa Temple.

After walking around, Di Xin returned to the Main Hall and, looking at the statue of Nuwa, suddenly burst into laughter, "Someone, fetch me ink and brush!"

The civil and military officials looked at each other, somewhat perplexed.

However, when the King commanded, no one dared not to comply, even if they did not understand.

Soon someone came running with a tray in hand, carrying a fine brush and a well-ground inkstone, along with a roll of white silk.

Without a word, Di Xin picked up the brush and soaked it with ink from the inkstone.

An attendant hurriedly unfolded and laid out the silk properly.

However, Di Xin, holding the brush, did not even glance at the silk but stared intently at the statue of Nuwa in the hall.

Seeing him like this, Uncle Wang Bi Gan felt an inexplicable sense of unease rise in his heart and quickly spoke, "Great King, the offering of incense is finished; you should return to the palace."

"No rush, no rush," Di Xin said with a smile waving his hand, "Today I am unexpectedly inspired; let me compose a poem."

Having said this, Di Xin picked up the wolf-hair brush soaked in ink, raised his eyes to gaze at the statue of Nuwa in the main hall, his gaze becoming even more delusory, as if he had already wandered off into another realm.

Bi Gan felt an ever-growing sense of unease in his heart, furrowed his brow and stepped forward two paces, saying sternly: "Your Majesty! It is time to return to the palace!"

"Do not rush, do not rush, I have already figured it out!" Di Xin seemed to awaken from a dream, laughing heartily as he walked to the wall, and began to write in large strokes without any hesitation a poem:

The splendor of the Phoenix and Phoenix Treasure Tent is extraordinary,

Adorned with golden patterns that skillfully crafted.

The winding distant mountains fly in emerald hues;

The swirling dance sleeves reflect the rosy dresses.

Pear blossoms vie in beauty dampened by rain;

Peonies enveloped in mist boast charming makeup.

Only if seductive allure could animate and move,

Would bring eternal joy to serve the king.

Having only written the beginning of the poem, all the court officials present changed their expressions dramatically, clamoring in unison: "Your Majesty must not! Absolutely must not!"

Yet Di Xin turned a deaf ear to the admonishments of the officials, as if immersed in his own world; even when Uncle Wang Bi Gan stepped forward to pull him back, he was lightly flicked away and sent flying.

Since childhood, Di Xin possessed the ability to rival tigers and leopards, lift beams and replace pillars; his divine power was astonishing, and not something a literary official like Bi Gan could possibly contend with.

Only when he had finished the entire risqué poem in one breath did Di Xin finally toss aside the wolf-hair brush, bursting into loud laughter he said: "My dear Subjects, how do you find this poem of mine?"

Bi Gan's face was stern as he spoke with gravity: "Reporting to Your Majesty, this poem contains language that disrespects the sacred, lacking in piety, it will only incur the wrath of the divine. Please allow someone to cleanse the ink, and then pray with incense again, seeking the forgiveness of Nuwa!"

Di Xin, hearing this, replied displeased: "I was merely praising the beauty of Nuwa, how has this become blasphemous language?"

He turned his head to look at Chancellor Shang Rong, and asked solemnly: "What say you, my loyal Subject, is this poem of mine blasphemous?"

Hesitation flashed across Shang Rong's face, but ultimately he replied with solemn resolve: "Although Your Majesty's intention was to praise, I believe Nuwa possesses Innate Divine nature and might not understand the intentions within your poem..."

He carefully chose his words, speaking respectfully: "Should Nuwa misinterpret Your Majesty's intentions, I fear she might unleash boundless fury!

Your Majesty has come to offer incense and worship, with the intent to pray for blessings and prosperity, so the people may thrive in peace, that weather may be fair, and wars may cease, why stir up unnecessary strife over this matter?"

"Humph, you too believe I am in the wrong?"

Di Xin huffed coldly, flicked his sleeve, and turned to walk outside.

Clearly affronted by Bi Gan and Shang Rong, he was extremely displeased.

All the civil and military officials present exchanged glances, their faces could not hide their shocked and fearful expressions.

Shang Rong sighed and, no longer concerned with the others, hurriedly followed after him.

Bi Gan also wished to follow, but remembering the poem on the wall, he stopped himself, promptly calling for guards to fetch water to cleanse away the salacious poem.

But how could the guards dare to touch the poem personally inscribed by Di Xin?

Seeing their hesitation, Bi Gan had no choice but to roll his sleeves up and wash the poem off himself.

As for whether this would offend Di Xin, he was no longer concerned.

Although he was but a mortal man, he had deep connections with many capable and extraordinary people in the court, and he had some understanding of the affairs of the Immortal Gods that ordinary people could hardly imagine.

He knew very well that Nuwa was one of the most revered Saints in the Primordial Heaven and Earth.

For this reason, he agreed with Shang Rong's suggestion to offer incense to Nuwa, hoping to secure her protection by the devotions of the entire Great Shang nation.

What he did not foresee was that his own King, as if bewitched, would disregard his admonishment and inscribe such a suggestive poem.

Although he had now washed away the poem, Nuwa was a Saint after all—who knows whether she had already sensed someone's disrespect toward her?

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