Lord of Incense and Worship

As evening descended, the mountain breeze swept through, bringing a chill that lingered and teased the leaves into playful dances. Branches whispered softly, while peach blossoms bloomed in abundance, their fragrance drifting gently, mischievously leaping from the branches and tumbling into the earth.

The peach blossoms came in shades of pink, deep crimson, and pale violet. As they fell, they decayed swiftly, transforming into a rising mist. This mist billowed and rolled, merging into a vast sea of fog.

“When peach blossoms rot, they turn into miasma—that is my moment.”

Within the sea of mist, spirit butterflies fluttered. Each was the size of a palm, shimmering faintly with white light, now blending seamlessly with the fog. Their frail bodies clad in the mist like armor, they soared between the mountains and heavens.

“I never imagined that, after crossing worlds, I would become a spirit butterfly. It’s a pity, though—spirit butterflies live only seven days, spending seven years in the earth to accumulate the strength needed to break free from the cocoon. Once transformed, their life is fleeting.”

“Fortunately, fate leaves a sliver of hope. Borrowing the miasma of the peach forest, I can use my supernatural talent to seize a thousand threads of incense, shed my mortal shell, and ascend to godhood. Afterward, I can break free from the bounds of lifespan—so long as the incense persists, I need not fear the approach of death.”

Now, the peach forest was in full bloom, a rare sight. Ye Chen, in his spirit butterfly form, stirred the tides o