Peninsula: I'm being supported by a top idol.

Chapter 88 Above the Eight Paths [Available for Subscription]

“We have many unions,” Dorling explained. “Sometimes it’s easier to refer guests to each other or to help out when needed through a union.”

Cui Shi'an nodded, gesturing for her to sit down and talk.

The young woman respectfully pointed to the futon behind the long table: "Please sit down—"

Cui Shi'an knew that if he didn't sit down, she would definitely not sit down, so he had no choice but to go around to the back.

Seeing him sit down, the young woman said respectfully, "I'll serve you some tea."

Cui Shi'an glanced around and called out to her, "Do you have any coffee?"

"Huh?" Jie Duoling was taken aback. She meant wine when she said "serving tea," which was the custom for inviting gods. But this person actually wanted coffee?

"Well—" she turned around cautiously, "how about—I go outside and buy it for you?"

"Never mind if you don't have any." Cui Shi'an waved his hand, his gaze returning to the girl's face: "Do you usually have many customers here?"

The girl smiled in apology, then shook her head with a hint of embarrassment: "Not many—only two or three customers a day at most."

"Haven't you thought about changing careers? The competition in this industry is so fierce now, even shamans are starting to cut corners. I see you're not that old, why don't you hurry up and learn another skill—"

Jie Duoling's cheeks flushed slightly from his words, her fingers unconsciously twisting the cuffs of her hanbok. She wanted to argue but dared not contradict this "General," and in the end, she could only lower her head and say in a weak voice, "Myungsimdang is a family heirloom, and I am the only heir of this generation. My grandmother told me before she passed away that I must keep it."

Cui Shi'an looked at her lowered head and slightly reddened ear tips, his tone softening a bit, but the question remained direct: "That's alright, isn't it? So many traditional crafts have declined these days, and besides, didn't you say that even the 'Dragon Girl' you've always worshipped in your shrine has left? Without the 'main deity' to oversee things, how are you going to take on those jobs that require summoning gods?"

These words, like needles, precisely pierced the girl's carefully maintained composure.

She suddenly raised her head, her eyes already slightly red, brimming with resentful tears, but her voice carried an almost stubborn defiance: "I remember everything Grandma taught me. Even without the Dragon Girl," I can still help people ward off disasters, pray for blessings, and assess the feng shui of houses—I, I can do it! I won't starve!"

She sounded a little hesitant when she said the last sentence, "I won't starve," clearly knowing that this line of work was difficult.

Cui Shian looked at her quietly.

Looking into her eyes, I saw a complex expression that reflected a mix of responsibility for the family business, a promise to her grandmother, and a sense of bewilderment and resentment about her own abilities.

There was confusion and fear in those eyes, but there was no sign of giving up.

Cui Shi'an remained silent for a moment, then suddenly spoke, his voice calm and even: "Is this the only line of work you have to do?"

Jie Duoling met his gaze, and without the slightest hesitation, nodded forcefully and heavily, as if using all her strength: "Yes!"

The voice wasn't loud, but it was resolute.

The air inside the room was silent for a few seconds.

Cui Shi'an said nothing more, took out the long, dark purple wooden box from his backpack, and then took out the scroll.

Then, under the girl's curious gaze, it slowly unfolded.

Distant mountains in ink wash painting, shrouded in mist and clouds, with figures climbing the mountain.

The painting has a distant and profound atmosphere, yet there is a hidden sharpness in the brushstrokes.

When Jie Duoling's gaze fell upon the painting, especially the faint silhouette of someone about to climb a mountain, he was struck dumb, as if by lightning!

She staggered back half a step, covered her mouth, and her eyes widened instantly, as if some vast image that she could not understand was reflected deep in her pupils.

"This, this is the Eight—" Her voice was hoarse, barely able to form a complete sentence: "The Eight Paths—The—Ascension to Heaven Diagram?"

Cui Shi'an was taken aback. The Eight Paths to Heaven? This painting actually has a name?

"Do you recognize this painting?"

Jie Duoling nodded heavily, her breathing still a little rapid, but her eyes were fixed on the painting with a pilgrimage-like reverence: "I also heard from my grandmother that only those ghosts and gods who have been granted permission by the King of Hell are worthy of possessing such paintings."

She cautiously extended her finger, not daring to touch the painting, but merely pointing vaguely at the ink wash landscape on the scroll, her voice trembling slightly: "General, please look—the landscape in this painting is not just random scribbles; it subtly captures the spirit and essence of our peninsula's eight regions."

With her fingertips, she sketched different areas: "Look at this gentle, flat area at the foot of the mountain, there is an image of a 'beauty in a mirror,' symbolizing the prosperity and nobility of Gyeonggi Province. It is the starting point, and one must maintain upright conduct."

"As you ascend, the clouds are clear and gentle, like a gentle breeze and a bright moon, which corresponds to the simplicity and courtesy of Chungcheong Province."

"The stream meanders here, and the willows sway gracefully; they are the 'willows before the wind,' representing the gentle and profound sentiments of Jeolla Province."

"And here," her finger moved to the steep and precipitous part of the mountain, the ink was thick and the strokes were powerful, "the peaks are like a raging storm, strange and precipitous, this is the [Mount Taesang], the indomitable spirit of Gyeongsang Province."

"Then, turning into the mountain pass, the rocks are silent and heavy, seemingly with a Zen-like quality, like the 'Old Buddha under the Rock,' corresponding to the perseverance and simplicity of Gangwon Province."

"The water here ripples gently, seemingly still yet in motion, like spring waves throwing a stone, reflecting the frankness and variability of the Huanghai Road."

"Further up, the mountains and forests are deep and dark, with the roar of tigers faintly visible. These are the [Mountain Tigers], representing the bravery and aggressiveness of the Ping An Road."

"Up to this highest point," she looked up, as if she could see the summit through the painting, "the wind and snow are everywhere, the stone fields are barren, but there is an indomitable tenacity, which is the [stone field ox], symbolizing the diligence and perseverance of Hamgyeong Province."

She withdrew her hand, took a deep breath, and looked at Cui Shi'an with a burning light in her eyes: "The eight auras are all contained in this painting. This painting will evolve on its own depending on the amount of incense offerings, merits, and even the changes in the owner's will and cultivation."

Cui Shi'an listened intently, and subconsciously asked, "Evolution? How did it evolve?"

"The person in the painting," Jie Duoling pointed to the mountain-climbing figure, his tone full of longing, "will follow your footsteps, step by step, overcoming the barriers of these eight streams of energy, and walk towards the summit. Every bit of incense and vow you accumulate, every merit and deed you accomplish will propel him forward."

"And then—what happens after we reach the summit?" Cui Shi'an had a vague feeling about something.

Jie Duoling's expression suddenly became extremely solemn, even carrying a trace of ancient reverence: "When the person in the painting steps onto the mountain peak and looks back down at the Eight Paths—"

She paused, then said clearly, word by word, "The day will be the day I attain the venerable position of 'Great God of White Hair'."

White-haired Great God!

Choi Si-an's heart trembled violently. Mount Baekdu was a sacred mountain, an ancestral mountain, in the legends of the Korean Peninsula peoples, considered a divine and spiritual mountain, and their mountain god.

That is almost the highest position in the peninsula's native pantheon!

This seemingly simple "incense offering picture" actually hides something astonishing—a path to godhood?!

"Did your grandma ever tell you that someone had ever reached the summit?"

The girl shook her head: "No—"