The Heavenly Realm spans three thousand worlds, with countless matters to attend. But if you had to pick one person who could fight demons, suppress monsters, put out fires, catch dragons, and on top of that handle logistics like taking out the trash, repairing formations, and babysitting celestial children… that person could only be — Supreme God Tu Tinh Nhac.
Because, besides him, no one could endure the workload of an "all-round official" for thousands of years.
On the thirty-first day since no one had been on duty in the Heavenly Realm, he — hair tousled, robe scorched — dragged along a two-headed snake, a rabbit-faced demon, and a crying celestial child yelling, "I didn't do anything wrong," to the South Heavenly Gate.
"Supreme God Tu is back!"
The guards' voices rang out, and everyone looked at him with pity. Some even secretly burned incense… though he wasn't dead yet.
He glared once, and they immediately pretended to be deaf.
After handing over the demon, saving the celestial child, and repairing over fifty formations in the outer realms, Tu Tinh Nhac returned to his Wu You Palace. "Wu You" — meaning "No Worries" — but in reality… it was all worry.
He pulled open a drawer and took out a stack of papers preserved with protective charms.
"Still folded, not a single stroke touched."
It was the retirement contract he had submitted… two hundred years ago.
Tu Tinh Nhac smirked. Not exactly happy.
Carrying the contract, he went straight to the emperor's private study. No need for announcement. Knock? Why bother?
The door swung open. The Heavenly Emperor was… writing poetry. Steam rose from a cup of tea, little spirit pets basked in the sunlight by the window, and the sound of a flute drifted from afar.
Tu Tĩnh Nhac placed the contract on the desk.
"Your Majesty, you haven't signed this yet."
The Heavenly Emperor looked up.
"Oh, Tu, you've come to see me again? Lately, my head has been hurting—"
Tu Tinh Nhac cut him off.
"A thousand years…"
His deep voice echoed through the grand hall, making the emperor on the dragon throne shiver. Cold ran down his spine as he nervously looked at the white-robed Supreme God standing in the afternoon light — one hand holding the retirement papers, the other gripping his sword.
"A thousand years. I've rescued three great heavenly disasters, handled one hundred twenty-seven demon uprisings, not to mention countless midnight calls to put out fires, save dragons, catch demon rats, mend the sky, and correct the Silver River…"
"Ah, and let's not forget sweeping all of the South Sea because the Dragon King had a backache."
The Heavenly Emperor swallowed hard.
"I've moved mountains three times, descended eighteen levels of hell five times, slain twelve dragons, chased away twenty-six fox spirits, been mistaken for the God of Wealth seventy-three times (for helping the poor), assisted the heavenly army ninety-eight times with formations, aided the divine healers one hundred and two times…"
"And — been assigned to watch over the South Heavenly Gate three hundred times. Without pay!"
The Heavenly Emperor: "…"
Tu Tinh Nhac decisively placed the retirement contract on the desk, a faint smile on his face carrying a sense of danger.
"This contract has been here for two hundred years. Are you going to sign it?"
"Um… this… I still need to consider—" The Heavenly Emperor gave a weak laugh.
Swish!
Tu Tinh Nhac drew his sword. Its tip gleamed as he placed it an inch from the poetry scroll. The wind from the sword made the page flutter slightly.
"Will you sign it, or should I?"
The Heavenly Emperor: "…"
An hour later, news spread across the Heavenly Realm:
"Supreme God Tu Tinh Nhac has officially retired! This time, it's for real!"
At that moment, Tu Tinh Nhac leisurely packed his belongings: a teapot, a lotus tree, a shelf of health books, his oldest sword from the treasure vault, and a small handwritten board. That was it.
Descending to the Mortal Realm
The sky was clear, clouds shimmering in rainbow hues, floating lightly.
Tu Tinh Nhac stepped down amid the flapping of cranes and gentle sunlight, as if welcoming a rare guest.
A sign hung on his suitcase:
"No Visitors — Retiring."
His destination was the mortal realm: a small house by a lake, accompanied by a brand-new entertainment company officially licensed by the Heavenly Realm.
A new life began from here — sipping tea, reading books, playing the flute, strolling by the lake. Simple, serene, detached from the world.
At least… that's what he thought.