Chapter 13Incense of the Lotus Forge

“EEK! Eeeek… eek… skeleton.”

A skull stares back at me, yellowed bone gleaming dully in the shadows. The skeleton lies collapsed against the mossy boulders, ribs scattered like fallen leaves, small finger bones strewn across the weathered stone. I’ve seen skeletons before in school labs, but nothing like this in the wild.

“Zobito?” I whisper. “What’s this?”

Zobito steps forward, her eyes project gentle beams, one blue and the other amber, scanning the remains with her clinical curiosity. “This person was a pilgrim from the Western Golden Kingdom. Colloquially referred to as the ‘Marathon Monks’. Deceased approximately… one year ago.”

I swallow hard. “Marathon Monks?”

“Yes, it is an ascetic practice performed by the pilgrims.” Zobito turns off her scanning beams, folds her hands, and bows deeply towards the skeleton. “The Golden Order’s pilgrimage stipulates the practitioners don this funeral robe and mask to journey across all five continents of Shen on foot, to pay tribute to every spiritual site.”

“Did I hear ‘funeral robe and mask’? That’s kinda morbid.”

“Yes, white is the colour that symbolises death. The pilgrimage represents their unshakeable resolve to attain enlightenment, or die trying.”

“Did I hear ‘die trying’? Like, literally, right here.” I point to the skeleton.

“Yes, I believe this monk was trying to pay tribute to the Celestial Tower.” Zobito blinks and lowers her head. “Unfortunately, their journey ended here.”

My eyes widen as I look at the skeleton. “And did I hear ‘on foot’? How long does that take?”

“It depends. According to the Golden Order’s archives it could take from five to ten years to trek around fifty thousand li’s.”

“Umm… I don’t want to sound dumb but… how long is a ‘li’?”

“Oh, not a silly question at all, you are from a different realm.” Zobito warmly replies. “A ‘li’ is around three hundred and fifty bu’s.”

“Oh right, of course! What’s a ‘bu’?”

“A ‘bu’ is five chi’s.”

“Huh? What’s a ‘chi’? Argh! Y’know what, nevermind…”

Zobito blinks as my head’s spinning with this world’s metric system. Either way, fifty thousand probably means very far. My skeleton-scare fades, and a melting sense of respect warms up my chest. I don’t quite understand why the monks go on this agonising long stroll of death around the world, but they’re definitely devoted to something they believe in. Sadly, this one didn’t make it.

I step closer and see the white robes flow around it like water, untouched by decay or dirt. Hold up! Something doesn’t quite add up. “Hey Zobito, why is the body completely decomposed, but the robe looks… brand new?”

“Ah, very observant of you, Maiden Peach! They remain intact because of the Celestial crystals woven into the motifs.” she says, gesturing to the pristine white fabric. “These are not ordinary gems—they are fragments of the Celestial Heavens, they fell like shooting stars burning up in the sky. The mortals would be fortunate even if a handful land on earth over a century.”

I stare at the fabric more closely. Now I can see them—tiny, luminous beads threaded throughout the white cloth, each one pulsing with a soft inner light like captured starlight.

“The monks of the Western Golden Kingdom discovered these celestial fragments scattered across their mountain ranges,” Zobito continues, her voice carrying a hint of wonder. “The fragments are mostly debris, but the mortals believed these to be gifts from the heavens—sacred treasures that had journeyed from the realm of the Celestials to be revered by the mortals.”

I reach out tentatively, my fingers hovering over one of the crystals. It feels warm to the touch, humming with energy that makes my skin tingle.

“Their artisans spent generations learning to work with these Celestial fragments,” Zobito explains, her tone becoming more animated. “They might carve them into beads, inlay them with gold and silver, creating patterns that honoured both the Celestial designs and their own cultural traditions.”

Then something clicks in my head. “Say, is this what the guards used to buff up their weapon and armour?”

“It is possible, but improbable.” Zobito blinks. “I estimate a guard’s armament would require at least one jin of purified Celestial crystals to power a sai, and two jin’s for the chainmail.”

“Umm… come again? I don’t know how much is a ‘jin’…”

“Oh, apologies. To frame it in a more visual way: we would need to extract Celestial crystals from ten to fifteen ox-drawn carts of these robes to harness enough energy to power a single guard’s sai and armour.”

“Whoa… that sounds really expensive… for space junk.”

I look at the skeleton’s empty eye sockets, then back at Zobito, approaching the deceased monk. “So, you’re going to wear those robes?”

“Indeed,” she says, her voice carrying a note of respect. “This disguise would allow me to blend seamlessly with local expectations. The Western Golden Kingdom’s monks are well known for their distinctive white robes and ceremonial masks.”

I stare at the pristine fabric, then at Zobito’s glowing metallic form. “Are you sure?”

“Oh no, thank you for the reminder!”

“Phew… umm, all good.”

“How could I forget! We’ll need to bury the monk respectfully. May I request your assistance?”

“Hard pass!” I freak out a bit. “First, you were going to wear the clothes from a dead person, now you want me to help you bury him like a crime scene? Creepy!”

“It’s the most practical solution for maintaining anonymity while we investigate the village,” she replies, her tone quieter and blinks innocently. “Rest assured. I shall ensure the burial is handled respectfully.”

The skeleton seems to watch us with its hollow eyes, as if approving of this plan. Or maybe I’m just seeing things. Either way, the robe looks clean, the fabric soft and flowing like it’s straight from a TV ad.

“Fine,” I say. “But if you start acting weird, I’m blaming the ghost of whoever this was.”

“Understood,” Zobito nods, already reaching for the robes.

Zobito carefully lifts the white robes from the skeleton’s shoulders. The fabric flows like liquid silk, the golden motifs catching the dappled sunlight filtering through the bamboo leaves. She holds them up, studying the garment with the same analytical precision she uses for everything.

“Let us commence,” she announces.

Famous last words.

The moment she tries to slip her arm through the sleeve, everything goes wrong. The fabric tangles around her metallic limbs like it has a mind of its own. The sleeve twists itself into knots, the hem catches on her elbow joint, and somehow the hood ends up wrapped around her head like a very confused scarf.

“Zobito,” I say, trying not to laugh. “You’re fighting with laundry.”

“I have never worn mortal clothing before. My attempts are unsuccessful.” She replies, her voice muffled by the fabric currently covering her face. “Should I take your advice and try to fight it?”

The robe has somehow managed to tie itself into a complicated knot around her torso. She tugs at it experimentally, which only makes things worse. Now she looks like a glowing android wrapped in a very expensive white blanket.

“Here,” I say, stepping forward. “Let me help.”

I reach for the tangled fabric, carefully working my fingers through the knots. The Celestial motifs hum softly against my skin, warm and alive. The fabric itself feels impossibly smooth, like water given form.

“Your assistance is appreciated,” Zobito says, her voice still muffled. “I appear to be experiencing difficulties with natural fabric flow patterns.”

“No kidding,” I mutter, untangling the sleeve that has somehow wrapped itself around her arm three times.

It takes several minutes of careful work, but eventually I manage to get the robe properly positioned. The white fabric flows around Zobito’s metallic form like it is meant to be there, the Celestial motifs catching the light and making her look almost monk-like.

“Much better,” I say, stepping back to admire the result.

Zobito gives a small bow, the movement graceful despite her mechanical nature. “Thank you for your assistance. The garment now functions as intended.”

“Now you just need the mask,” I say, looking around, “the monk had one, right?”

Zobito picks up the wooden ceremonial mask. It’s carved with intricate patterns that seem to shift and flow like water, the wood dark and polished to a mirror finish, and glistening under the light.

“Such fine craftmanship,” she exclaims, her voice carrying a hint of pride. “The Golden Order’s masks represent the equality and oneness of all sentient beings—same appearance, no ego.”

She places it over her face, and just like that, Zobito the robot vanishes. In her place stands a silent, mysterious monk in pristine white robes, her face hidden behind the ceremonial mask.

“Perfect,” I say. “Now you look like you belong here, sorta.”

“Indeed! Disguise protocol completed,” she replies, her voice now carrying a note of satisfaction. “Now, let’s proceed to the burial ritual.”

“Yuck, fine! Where can we find a spade…”

Zobito removes her mask with one hand. Her eyes light up bright red, and heat starts to gather in the air. Two red dots, like laser pointers, tracing a big circle on the ground.

ZROOOM!

Suddenly, two amber beams shoot out of her eyes, aiming at the ground and melting away the surface. The beams push a hole, deeper and deeper.

A few moments later, a large hole appears right in front of us, with some smoke rising out.

“There, now the poor monk won’t have to be exposed to the weather.”

“Um… what was that?” I point at the hole torn open by this robot’s death ray, I step slowly forward to take a peek. I can’t see the bottom.

“Oh, that was the fire from my Lotus Forge.” Zobito blinks, her eyes gradually return to their usual glow, and explains with a tone like someone reading a user manual. “The name was bestowed by the Fire Princess when we were forging the Celestial Tower aeons ago. It represents her impossible resolve like a lotus blooming in fire. I can only do this once a day—it requires significant energy reserves.”

Overkill much? The skeleton looks as if it wants to crawl away. Me? At this point I simply want to ignore what I’ve just seen and move on. Without a word, I automatically walk to the skeleton, pick up the pile, and dump it into the pit. I swear I felt the skeleton’s sigh of relief as I let go.

“Now, let’s say our prayers.” Zobito folds her hands. “Where is the venerable monk?”

“Couldn’t wait to rush to the afterlife. Can’t stand for another moment in this scary mortal realm.” My voice is flat. “Can we just go now?”

“Oh, I can’t believe I missed the monk.” Zobito blinks. “Just one more thing.”

What now? I see Zobito walk slowly behind the boulder, then her body lights up and the ground starts to rumble. She’s pushing the giant boulder forward! Eventually, the boulder rolls over the hole, sealing the final chapter for the monk. She pauses, folds her hands, and bows toward the boulder. I have no more words. I also fold my hands, and bow toward the boulder.

“Ok. The burial rite is complete. I am ready to go.”

We leave the bamboo grove behind, the skeleton monk returning to its eternal vigil in the bottomless pit… it’s probably still falling. The path ahead leads toward the town of Tiantan, and for the first time since arriving in this world, I feel like we might actually blend in this time.