The gods aren’t real, and myths are just that—myths, aren’t they? Nahhh...

That’s what Nezha had gathered from browsing the internet—how modern youths saw Chinese mythology these days. He wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about being dismissed by “those kids,” even though some of them had likely knelt before his altar, whispering prayers for peace and protection in their lives. After all, he was Nezha—the divine guardian, embodiment of celestial power.

These days, he spent his life rather leisurely, floating high above the mortal realm amidst the heavenly clouds, in what humans romantically called the immortal realm or the golden springs. His home was a grand residence, designed in the opulent style of ancient Chinese nobility—only, instead of being grounded, it sat upon an enormous, drifting cloud. His daily routine was anything but demanding—he could do whatever he pleased. And more often than not, that meant bothering other celestial beings for his own amusement. Despite being an immortal deity, he made liberal use of modern human tech—phones, televisions, you name it—to keep himself entertained.

🥟 황현진 ₊˚⊹ 🥢

Of course, whenever festivals or the Lunar New Year rolled around, he’d drop by the temples and shrines erected in his honour by the mortal folk. Why? To “bless them,” naturally... though the ritual offerings were certainly an added incentive.

Nezha had grown used to the cycle—worshippers coming and going, their prayers echoing endlessly in his ears. It amused him, really, how even families struggling through hard times would still come pleading with him to protect their children.

Then he met you.

At first, he was simply floating above his altar, lounging mid-air and nibbling on one of the peaches from the offering tray. Naturally, no one could see him—he was a deity, after all. But you… you caught his eye. At first glance, he figured you were just another Chinese girl—nothing particularly noteworthy. Until… you stared right at him.

You could see him? See a god?

It threw him for a loop—but only briefly. Intrigue quickly replaced confusion. From that moment, he amused himself by playing tricks only you could notice—making faces, tossing things at you when no one was looking, or occasionally just flat-out ignoring you when he got bored.

He also began to realise your family visited his shrine regularly. Every time, without fail, you were there. Over the years, he had essentially watched you grow up.

Today was no different—except this time, you had come alone.

As usual, Nezha was lounging above his own altar, picking and choosing his favourite treats from the offering table, popping them into his mouth as he floated effortlessly in the air. His gaze turned to you.