Chapter 4: The Immortal Grudge List
~1.9k words · 2026-06-22
The Eastern Kitchen of the Heavenly Court smelled like a thousand restaurants fighting each other.
Wang Lei's nose caught soy sauce, sesame oil, chili crisp, and something else—something that burned all the way down to his lungs. He stood at the edge of a kitchen that stretched further than his eyes could follow. Bronze woks the size of car tires hung from hooks. Steam rose from cauldrons that bubbled with broths that probably cost more than his apartment.
A woman in a stained apron pointed a cleaver at him.
"You're the mortal?"
Her voice cut through the kitchen noise like she was used to being obeyed. Gray streaked her hair, pulled back in a bun so tight it pulled her eyes upward. Her arms were thick as hams. The cleaver in her hand had dents along the blade—not from age. From use.
Wang Lei held up the jade token. "Delivery. For someone named—"
"I know what it is." She snatched it from his hand. Her fingers were calloused, nails short and practical. She turned the token over, grunted, and threw it into a drawer full of identical tokens. "Fourth one this week. That lazy bastard in the Southern Gate is losing them again."
"I don't think it was lost. I brought it straight from—"
"You brought it." She pointed the cleaver at a stool in the corner. "Sit. Eat. You look like you're about to fall over."
Wang Lei's legs made the decision before his brain did. He sat. The stool was lower than he expected, and he almost tipped backward. By the time he'd caught his balance, a bowl had appeared in front of him. Noodles. Broth. A piece of braised pork belly the size of his fist.
"Eat," she said. "Then tell me why you're really here."
He picked up the chopsticks. The first bite hit his tongue and he forgot how to breathe. The pork belly melted. The broth tasted like every good memory he'd ever had about food, concentrated into a single mouthful. He ate without thinking, without stopping, until the bowl was empty and he was licking the last drops from his lips.
"Good?" The woman was watching him from across a counter, wiping her cleaver with a rag.
"I think I just had a religious experience."
She laughed. It was a rough sound, like gravel rolling downhill. "First good thing I've heard all day. I'm Granny Jiang. Head cook of the Eastern Kitchen. You can call me Granny."
"Wang Lei. Delivery driver."
"I know who you are. Word travels fast in heaven when a mortal shows up with a scooter." She hung the cleaver on a hook. "The other gods are laughing about it. 'Look at the little delivery boy, running around the Celestial Realm like he owns it.'"
"I don't own anything. I just want to go home."
"Home." Granny Jiang's eyes narrowed. "You think home still exists the way you left it?"
The words hit harder than they should have. Wang Lei's hands tightened on the empty bowl. "What do you mean?"
"I mean time moves different here. You've been in heaven for—" she glanced at a wall clock that had no numbers, only symbols he didn't recognize "—about six hours. Down there? Two weeks."
Two weeks. His mother would have called the police. His landlord would have thrown his stuff on the street. The delivery company would have fired him and blacklisted his name across every platform in Chengdu.
"Can I go back?"
"You can." Granny Jiang poured herself a cup of tea from a pot that steamed despite having no fire under it. "But the door you came through? That was a one-way trip. The Heavenly Court doesn't let mortals wander in and out. You'd need a guide. Someone with clearance to open the gates."
"Who has that?"
She sipped her tea. Didn't answer.
"Granny?"
"The Jade Emperor. The Four Heavenly Kings. The Queen Mother." She set down her cup. "And every department head with gate access. But they won't help you for free. Nothing in heaven is free, boy. You want a favor, you earn it."
Wang Lei's phone buzzed. He pulled it out—the screen was cracked now, the battery at 12%. A notification had appeared, floating above the normal icons.
**NEW ORDER: Celestial Courier Contract**
**Client: Eastern Kitchen (Granny Jiang)**
**Package: Emergency spice delivery to the Southern Bastion**
**Distance: 47 celestial li**
**Time Limit: Before midnight bell**
**Reward: Gate access token + 500 merit points**
**Accept? [YES] [NO]**
He looked up. Granny Jiang was smiling.
"The system works fast up here," she said. "I put in the request the moment you sat down."
"You could have just asked."
"Where's the fun in that?" She reached under the counter and pulled out a cloth bag, tied with red string. Inside, something smelled like pepper and lightning. "This is for the Southern Bastion. It's a fortress at the edge of demon territory. The garrison commander there has been waiting for this shipment for three months. His soldiers are getting restless."
Wang Lei looked at the bag. Then at his phone. Then at Granny Jiang.
"Why me? You've got immortals. You've got flying horses. I've got a scooter with a dying battery."
"Because the immortals are lazy. The flying horses are stubborn. And you—" she pointed at him "—you have a 99.7% on-time delivery rating. I checked."
"You can check that?"
"Your phone is connected to the Heavenly Network now. Everything you've ever done as a courier is public record." She leaned forward. "Do you know how rare a 99.7% rating is? Even the Celestial Postal Service can't manage that. They lose half their packages to cloud dragons."
Wang Lei stared at his phone. The notification pulsed, waiting for his answer.
"One delivery," he said. "Then you give me the gate token."
"One delivery. But I'm adding a bonus condition." Granny Jiang's smile sharpened. "While you're at the Southern Bastion, I want you to ask about a package. A jade box, about this big." She held her hands apart, showing something the size of a shoebox. "It was supposed to arrive at the Eastern Kitchen six months ago. It never did."
"Lost package?"
"Stolen." The word came out cold. "Someone in the Southern Bastion took it. I want to know who."
"You want me to investigate a theft. While delivering spices. On a scooter. In demon territory."
"You want to go home, don't you?"
Wang Lei pressed ACCEPT.
His phone pinged. The screen flashed bright white, then reset. The battery showed 100%. A new map appeared, showing a route that snaked through clouds and mountain peaks, marked with warnings in red text.
**Navigation activated. Estimated arrival: 3 hours.**
**Warning: Route passes through contested territory.**
**Warning: Demon activity detected along secondary roads.**
**Warning: Do not engage. Do not stop. Do not make eye contact.**
"Great advice," Wang Lei muttered. "Very specific."
Granny Jiang handed him the spice bag. It was heavier than it looked, warm to the touch. "The garrison commander's name is General Zhao. He's a hard man. Drinks too much. Fights too much. But he's fair. If you deliver this on time, he'll remember it."
"And the jade box?"
"Ask around. Quietly. Don't let anyone know what you're looking for." She grabbed his shoulder. Her grip was iron. "One more thing. The Southern Bastion is the last stop before the demon lands. Things get strange out there. Laws are different. If something feels wrong—"
"It is wrong?"
"Trust your gut. It's kept you alive this long."
Wang Lei left the Eastern Kitchen with the spice bag slung across his back, the weight settling against his spine like a second spine made of responsibility and regret.
His scooter was where he'd left it, parked between two marble pillars. Someone had attached a red ribbon to the handlebars. A good luck charm. He didn't know who'd put it there, but he wasn't about to take it off.
The engine coughed twice before catching. The headlights flickered, then steadied. The map on his phone showed a road that didn't exist in any world he'd ever known—a path of light cutting through darkness, marked with waypoints and warnings.
He twisted the throttle.
The scooter lurched forward, picked up speed, and then the ground fell away.
Wang Lei was flying.
Not flying like a bird. Flying like a rock thrown from a slingshot. The scooter shot across a bridge of clouds, wheels spinning against nothing but air. Wind screamed past his ears. Below him, mountains stabbed upward like broken teeth. Above him, stars spun in patterns that made his eyes hurt.
"Okay," he said to no one. "Okay. This is fine."
The road curved. He leaned into it, the way he'd learned delivering noodles through Chengdu traffic. The scooter responded like it knew what he needed before he did. They banked around a peak that had a pagoda on top, its roof tiles glowing faint gold.
His phone buzzed.
**New message from: Granny Jiang**
**"Forgot to mention. The demons have been attacking delivery routes lately. They're hungry. Desperate. Something's changed in the wastelands."**
**"Don't die. I just got a good delivery driver."**
Wang Lei laughed. It came out shaky.
The clouds ahead of him parted, and he saw it: the Southern Bastion.
It wasn't a building. It was a mountain that had been hollowed out and fortified. Walls of black stone rose from the earth, lined with glowing runes. Watchtowers pierced the sky. Between them, a gate made of what looked like solid jade stood closed, its surface carved with dragons and tigers fighting each other.
He was still a kilometer away when the arrows started flying.
The first one missed by a meter. The second one clipped his rearview mirror. The third one—
Wang Lei slammed the brakes.
The scooter skidded to a stop on a cloud platform that materialized beneath his wheels. He raised his hands. The arrows stopped.
A voice boomed from the walls.
"State your business, mortal."
"I'm a delivery driver!"
Silence. Then laughter. Rough, ugly laughter from multiple throats.
"We don't get many delivery drivers out here," the voice said. "Especially not living ones."
"I have a package for General Zhao. From the Eastern Kitchen."
The laughter stopped.
The jade gate groaned. Started to open.
But before it had moved even a crack, something else happened. A shadow fell over Wang Lei. Something blotted out the stars. He looked up.
A figure stood on a cloud above him. A woman in armor that gleamed like liquid silver. Her hair was white as snow, her eyes were gold, and she held a spear that crackled with electricity.
"Wang Lei," she said. Her voice was thunder wrapped in silk. "I've been looking for you."
"Who are you?"
"My name is Princess Iron Fan. And you—" she pointed the spear at his chest "—have something that belongs to me."
Wang Lei's hand went to the spice bag. Then to his pocket, where the jade token from his first delivery still sat.
"Three deliveries," he said. "I've made three deliveries. Which one are you talking about?"
Princess Iron Fan smiled. It was not a kind smile.
"All
Wang Lei's nose caught soy sauce, sesame oil, chili crisp, and something else—something that burned all the way down to his lungs. He stood at the edge of a kitchen that stretched further than his eyes could follow. Bronze woks the size of car tires hung from hooks. Steam rose from cauldrons that bubbled with broths that probably cost more than his apartment.
A woman in a stained apron pointed a cleaver at him.
"You're the mortal?"
Her voice cut through the kitchen noise like she was used to being obeyed. Gray streaked her hair, pulled back in a bun so tight it pulled her eyes upward. Her arms were thick as hams. The cleaver in her hand had dents along the blade—not from age. From use.
Wang Lei held up the jade token. "Delivery. For someone named—"
"I know what it is." She snatched it from his hand. Her fingers were calloused, nails short and practical. She turned the token over, grunted, and threw it into a drawer full of identical tokens. "Fourth one this week. That lazy bastard in the Southern Gate is losing them again."
"I don't think it was lost. I brought it straight from—"
"You brought it." She pointed the cleaver at a stool in the corner. "Sit. Eat. You look like you're about to fall over."
Wang Lei's legs made the decision before his brain did. He sat. The stool was lower than he expected, and he almost tipped backward. By the time he'd caught his balance, a bowl had appeared in front of him. Noodles. Broth. A piece of braised pork belly the size of his fist.
"Eat," she said. "Then tell me why you're really here."
He picked up the chopsticks. The first bite hit his tongue and he forgot how to breathe. The pork belly melted. The broth tasted like every good memory he'd ever had about food, concentrated into a single mouthful. He ate without thinking, without stopping, until the bowl was empty and he was licking the last drops from his lips.
"Good?" The woman was watching him from across a counter, wiping her cleaver with a rag.
"I think I just had a religious experience."
She laughed. It was a rough sound, like gravel rolling downhill. "First good thing I've heard all day. I'm Granny Jiang. Head cook of the Eastern Kitchen. You can call me Granny."
"Wang Lei. Delivery driver."
"I know who you are. Word travels fast in heaven when a mortal shows up with a scooter." She hung the cleaver on a hook. "The other gods are laughing about it. 'Look at the little delivery boy, running around the Celestial Realm like he owns it.'"
"I don't own anything. I just want to go home."
"Home." Granny Jiang's eyes narrowed. "You think home still exists the way you left it?"
The words hit harder than they should have. Wang Lei's hands tightened on the empty bowl. "What do you mean?"
"I mean time moves different here. You've been in heaven for—" she glanced at a wall clock that had no numbers, only symbols he didn't recognize "—about six hours. Down there? Two weeks."
Two weeks. His mother would have called the police. His landlord would have thrown his stuff on the street. The delivery company would have fired him and blacklisted his name across every platform in Chengdu.
"Can I go back?"
"You can." Granny Jiang poured herself a cup of tea from a pot that steamed despite having no fire under it. "But the door you came through? That was a one-way trip. The Heavenly Court doesn't let mortals wander in and out. You'd need a guide. Someone with clearance to open the gates."
"Who has that?"
She sipped her tea. Didn't answer.
"Granny?"
"The Jade Emperor. The Four Heavenly Kings. The Queen Mother." She set down her cup. "And every department head with gate access. But they won't help you for free. Nothing in heaven is free, boy. You want a favor, you earn it."
Wang Lei's phone buzzed. He pulled it out—the screen was cracked now, the battery at 12%. A notification had appeared, floating above the normal icons.
**NEW ORDER: Celestial Courier Contract**
**Client: Eastern Kitchen (Granny Jiang)**
**Package: Emergency spice delivery to the Southern Bastion**
**Distance: 47 celestial li**
**Time Limit: Before midnight bell**
**Reward: Gate access token + 500 merit points**
**Accept? [YES] [NO]**
He looked up. Granny Jiang was smiling.
"The system works fast up here," she said. "I put in the request the moment you sat down."
"You could have just asked."
"Where's the fun in that?" She reached under the counter and pulled out a cloth bag, tied with red string. Inside, something smelled like pepper and lightning. "This is for the Southern Bastion. It's a fortress at the edge of demon territory. The garrison commander there has been waiting for this shipment for three months. His soldiers are getting restless."
Wang Lei looked at the bag. Then at his phone. Then at Granny Jiang.
"Why me? You've got immortals. You've got flying horses. I've got a scooter with a dying battery."
"Because the immortals are lazy. The flying horses are stubborn. And you—" she pointed at him "—you have a 99.7% on-time delivery rating. I checked."
"You can check that?"
"Your phone is connected to the Heavenly Network now. Everything you've ever done as a courier is public record." She leaned forward. "Do you know how rare a 99.7% rating is? Even the Celestial Postal Service can't manage that. They lose half their packages to cloud dragons."
Wang Lei stared at his phone. The notification pulsed, waiting for his answer.
"One delivery," he said. "Then you give me the gate token."
"One delivery. But I'm adding a bonus condition." Granny Jiang's smile sharpened. "While you're at the Southern Bastion, I want you to ask about a package. A jade box, about this big." She held her hands apart, showing something the size of a shoebox. "It was supposed to arrive at the Eastern Kitchen six months ago. It never did."
"Lost package?"
"Stolen." The word came out cold. "Someone in the Southern Bastion took it. I want to know who."
"You want me to investigate a theft. While delivering spices. On a scooter. In demon territory."
"You want to go home, don't you?"
Wang Lei pressed ACCEPT.
His phone pinged. The screen flashed bright white, then reset. The battery showed 100%. A new map appeared, showing a route that snaked through clouds and mountain peaks, marked with warnings in red text.
**Navigation activated. Estimated arrival: 3 hours.**
**Warning: Route passes through contested territory.**
**Warning: Demon activity detected along secondary roads.**
**Warning: Do not engage. Do not stop. Do not make eye contact.**
"Great advice," Wang Lei muttered. "Very specific."
Granny Jiang handed him the spice bag. It was heavier than it looked, warm to the touch. "The garrison commander's name is General Zhao. He's a hard man. Drinks too much. Fights too much. But he's fair. If you deliver this on time, he'll remember it."
"And the jade box?"
"Ask around. Quietly. Don't let anyone know what you're looking for." She grabbed his shoulder. Her grip was iron. "One more thing. The Southern Bastion is the last stop before the demon lands. Things get strange out there. Laws are different. If something feels wrong—"
"It is wrong?"
"Trust your gut. It's kept you alive this long."
Wang Lei left the Eastern Kitchen with the spice bag slung across his back, the weight settling against his spine like a second spine made of responsibility and regret.
His scooter was where he'd left it, parked between two marble pillars. Someone had attached a red ribbon to the handlebars. A good luck charm. He didn't know who'd put it there, but he wasn't about to take it off.
The engine coughed twice before catching. The headlights flickered, then steadied. The map on his phone showed a road that didn't exist in any world he'd ever known—a path of light cutting through darkness, marked with waypoints and warnings.
He twisted the throttle.
The scooter lurched forward, picked up speed, and then the ground fell away.
Wang Lei was flying.
Not flying like a bird. Flying like a rock thrown from a slingshot. The scooter shot across a bridge of clouds, wheels spinning against nothing but air. Wind screamed past his ears. Below him, mountains stabbed upward like broken teeth. Above him, stars spun in patterns that made his eyes hurt.
"Okay," he said to no one. "Okay. This is fine."
The road curved. He leaned into it, the way he'd learned delivering noodles through Chengdu traffic. The scooter responded like it knew what he needed before he did. They banked around a peak that had a pagoda on top, its roof tiles glowing faint gold.
His phone buzzed.
**New message from: Granny Jiang**
**"Forgot to mention. The demons have been attacking delivery routes lately. They're hungry. Desperate. Something's changed in the wastelands."**
**"Don't die. I just got a good delivery driver."**
Wang Lei laughed. It came out shaky.
The clouds ahead of him parted, and he saw it: the Southern Bastion.
It wasn't a building. It was a mountain that had been hollowed out and fortified. Walls of black stone rose from the earth, lined with glowing runes. Watchtowers pierced the sky. Between them, a gate made of what looked like solid jade stood closed, its surface carved with dragons and tigers fighting each other.
He was still a kilometer away when the arrows started flying.
The first one missed by a meter. The second one clipped his rearview mirror. The third one—
Wang Lei slammed the brakes.
The scooter skidded to a stop on a cloud platform that materialized beneath his wheels. He raised his hands. The arrows stopped.
A voice boomed from the walls.
"State your business, mortal."
"I'm a delivery driver!"
Silence. Then laughter. Rough, ugly laughter from multiple throats.
"We don't get many delivery drivers out here," the voice said. "Especially not living ones."
"I have a package for General Zhao. From the Eastern Kitchen."
The laughter stopped.
The jade gate groaned. Started to open.
But before it had moved even a crack, something else happened. A shadow fell over Wang Lei. Something blotted out the stars. He looked up.
A figure stood on a cloud above him. A woman in armor that gleamed like liquid silver. Her hair was white as snow, her eyes were gold, and she held a spear that crackled with electricity.
"Wang Lei," she said. Her voice was thunder wrapped in silk. "I've been looking for you."
"Who are you?"
"My name is Princess Iron Fan. And you—" she pointed the spear at his chest "—have something that belongs to me."
Wang Lei's hand went to the spice bag. Then to his pocket, where the jade token from his first delivery still sat.
"Three deliveries," he said. "I've made three deliveries. Which one are you talking about?"
Princess Iron Fan smiled. It was not a kind smile.
"All