Chapter 2: The First Delivery Is Always the Hardest

The Heavenly Court smelled like incense and old paperwork.

Wang Lei stood in the middle of what looked like a government office designed by someone who'd never seen a government office. Jade pillars rose to a ceiling that showed swirling clouds and occasional flashes of lightning. Desks made of polished white stone floated three inches off the ground. The air hummed with a low vibration that made his teeth itch.

His scooter sat beside him, tires still warm from the road that apparently led straight to heaven. The delivery bag hung from the handlebars, one immortality peach still tucked inside.

"Hey," he said to no one in particular. "Anyone got a return address?"

A woman looked up from behind a floating desk. She wore a flowing robe the color of dried blood, her black hair pinned up with what looked like actual chopsticks made of bone. Her face said she'd been dealing with other people's problems for about three thousand years too long.

"Name?" She didn't bother to stand.

"Wang Lei. I'm a delivery driver. I think I took a wrong turn."

"You think." She picked up a scroll, unrolled it with a flick of her wrist. "You're on the delivery manifest. One unit of immortality peach, grade seven, destination Jade Pool Pavilion. You're late."

"Late? I just got here."

"Your ETA was seventeen minutes ago." She tapped the scroll. "The system doesn't lie."

Wang Lei stared at her. Then at the scroll. Then back at her.

"I fell through a hole in reality," he said slowly. "My scooter almost landed on some kind of dragon. I'm pretty sure I passed a floating mountain on the way down. And you're telling me I'm late?"

"The system doesn't care about excuses."

He wanted to argue. He wanted to grab her by those bone chopsticks and explain exactly how stupid this whole situation was. But something stopped him. Something in the way she said system. In the way her eyes flicked to the peach in his bag.

He'd been a delivery driver for seven years. He knew when a customer was lying about being home. He knew when a package was going to be a problem. And he knew, with absolute certainty, that this woman wanted him to fail.

"Fine," he said. "Where's Jade Pool Pavilion?"

"Third celestial tier. Take the Cloud Bridge east, pass the Hall of Supreme Harmony, take the second left after the Peach Garden. Can't miss it."

"Great."

He didn't move.

She didn't blink.

"You're still here," she said.

"I need a map."

"Use your phone."

"My phone doesn't have service. I checked. No bars. No Wi-Fi. Nothing."

She sighed like he'd asked her to carry the package herself. "Third celestial tier. Take the Cloud Bridge east. Pass the Hall of Supreme Harmony. Take the second left after the Peach Garden. Can't miss it."

"You said that already."

"Then go."

Wang Lei looked at his scooter. The tires were standard issue. The battery had about thirty percent charge. The GPS was a black screen with the words No Signal bouncing around in the corner.

He'd delivered packages in typhoons. In traffic jams that lasted four hours. To customers who lived in buildings with no elevators and seventeen floors of stairs. He'd once hand-delivered a wedding cake to a couple who got married on a moving train.

This was just another delivery.

He got on the scooter. Turned the key. The engine hummed to life, a sound so ordinary it felt like a lie.

"Which way is east?" he asked.

The woman pointed without looking up.

He drove.

---

The Cloud Bridge was not a bridge.

It was a road made of actual clouds, stretching across an empty sky that dropped into nothing on both sides. Wang Lei kept his eyes straight ahead and his hands tight on the handlebars. The scooter's tires left faint impressions in the white surface, like driving on packed snow that wasn't cold.

Other beings passed him. Some rode clouds like surfboards. Some walked on air. One old man with a beard that touched his knees zipped past on what looked like a flying broom, but with more sparkles and fewer bristles.

No one looked at him twice.

That was fine. He didn't want to be looked at. He wanted to deliver the peach, find the return address, and get back to Chengdu before his shift ended. His boss would kill him if he lost another scooter.

The Hall of Supreme Harmony appeared on his left. It was exactly as impressive as the name suggested. Golden roof. Red pillars. Doors that stood sixty feet tall and probably weighed more than his entire apartment building. A crowd of minor officials in green robes streamed in and out, carrying scrolls and tablets and what looked like a giant abacus.

Wang Lei kept driving.

The Peach Garden came into view. He could smell it before he saw it — sweet and ripe and somehow ancient, like fruit that had been growing since before the first human took a bite of an apple. The trees stretched for miles, each one heavy with peaches that glowed faintly in the celestial light.

Second left.

He turned.

And found himself facing a wall of thorns.

They rose forty feet high, woven together like barbed wire designed by a god who really hated trespassers. The thorns were black. The vines were thick as his arm. And in the center, where a gate should have been, there was a face.

It was carved from the wood of the vines, roughly human, with eyes that opened and fixed on him.

"Delivery," the face said. Its voice was dry leaves and cracking bark.

"Yeah. For Jade Pool Pavilion."

"Wrong way."

"The lady at the front desk said—"

"The lady at the front desk wants you to fail."

Wang Lei stopped. Looked at the face. Looked back the way he'd come.

"What?"

"She sends every new courier here. The thorns eat them. She gets a bonus for lost packages." The face's mouth didn't move, but the words kept coming. "I've been watching for three hundred years. You're the first one who didn't try to force the gate."

"I'm a delivery driver. I don't force anything. I find a way."

The face considered this. Its wooden eyes creaked as they studied him.

"Interesting."

"Where's the real entrance?"

"There is no real entrance. The Jade Pool Pavilion doesn't exist."

Wang Lei felt his eye twitch. "What?"

"It's a dummy address. Used to catch couriers who don't know the system. The package gets 'lost' in transit, and the dispatcher keeps the contents." The face paused. "You have a grade seven immortality peach in that bag. Worth a fortune on the black market."

He looked down at the peach. It sat in his delivery bag, innocent and glowing.

"So what do I do?"

"You could give it to me."

"No."

"That was a test." The face almost smiled. "You passed. Now listen. The dispatcher you met at the front desk — her name is Zhao. She runs the low-tier courier division. She's been skimming packages for decades. Everyone knows. No one can prove."

"Prove what?"

"That the packages never arrive. That she's the one stealing them. That she's using the cult—"

The face stopped. Its eyes went wide.

"What cult?"

"Too late." The face's voice dropped to a whisper. "She knows I'm talking. Go. Now. Turn around, take the third left past the Hall of Supreme Harmony, and deliver to the real address. The one on the bottom of the manifest."

"There's nothing on the bottom of the manifest."

"Look again."

Wang Lei pulled the scroll from his bag. Unrolled it. At the very bottom, in handwriting so small he'd missed it, there was a second address.

Xiwangmu's Private Residence. Celestial Tier One. No Public Access.

"The Queen Mother of the West?" he said. "This is for her?"

"Direct order. Zhao was supposed to deliver it three weeks ago. She's been claiming the peaches are spoiled. The Queen Mother has been patient. Her patience is running out."

Wang Lei looked at the address. Looked at the peach. Looked at the face.

"Why are you helping me?"

The face didn't answer for a long moment. When it did, its voice was barely a rustle.

"Because Zhao killed my son. He was a courier too. He tried to expose her. She sent him to the thorns."

The vines trembled. Somewhere in the distance, a bell began to ring.

"She's coming," the face said. "You have five minutes. Deliver the peach. Expose her. Or die trying."

The vines parted, revealing a path that hadn't been there before.

Wang Lei didn't think. He turned the throttle and drove.

---

The path twisted through the Peach Garden, past trees that whispered in languages he didn't understand. The scooter's battery dropped to twenty percent. Then fifteen. The celestial air was thin, and the engine was struggling.

But he kept going.

The path ended at a wall of white jade. No gate. No door. Just a smooth surface that reflected his own terrified face back at him.

"Delivery!" he shouted.

Nothing.

"Delivery for Xiwangmu!"

Still nothing.

He looked at the peach. At the wall. At his scooter, which was down to ten percent battery.

Then he noticed something. A small indentation in the jade, about the size of a peach.

He pressed the fruit against it.

The wall slid open.

Inside, a woman sat on a throne made of clouds. She was beautiful in the way that mountains are beautiful — terrifying and eternal and completely indifferent to whether you lived or died.

"You're late," she said.

Wang Lei held up the peach.

"Traffic."

She looked at him. At the peach. At the sweat on his forehead and the fear in his eyes.

"Zhao sent you to the thorns."

"Yes."

"And you survived."

"She's been stealing from you. For decades. She's using the deliveries to fund something. A cult. I don't know what."

Xiwangmu's expression didn't change. But the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.

"A cult," she repeated.

"That's what the face in the thorns said. Before she came."

"Zhao is here now. She's at the Hall of Supreme Harmony, filing a report that you stole the peach."

"I didn't—"

"I know." Xiwangmu stood. The clouds around her throne darkened. "But she doesn't know that I know. And that gives us an opportunity."

She walked toward him. Her feet didn't touch the ground.

"You want to go home, delivery driver?"

"Yes."

"Then help me catch a thief. And maybe, just maybe, I'll let you."

Wang Lei looked at his scooter. His dead phone. His empty delivery bag.

"What do I have to do?"

Xiwangmu smiled. It was not a kind smile.

"Make a delivery. To Zhao."

The peach in his hand began to glow.