Chapter 3
Before him, a wasteland. The parched ground cracked and crumbled beneath his arduous steps. There were no trees in sight, no flowers in bloom. Even the weeds, normally steadfast and conniving, had shriveled up and forsaken the land.
“Houyi, my husband, please wait!”
He turned to find his darling wife clinging to the shadows of their abode, though she dared not venture out into the sunlight.
The rays were far too harsh for her ivory complexion to withstand a moment’s exposure.
He himself was covered from head to toe in white linens to protect his flesh from charring, and even still, he could feel himself beginning to burn.
He placed a hand on her round belly. They were expecting their child any day now, though with the world outside on the cusp of disintegration, it was difficult to enjoy their impending gift. “Chang’e, my love, you need not fret. I shan’t falter in my mission.”
“At least take this along with you,” she said as she produced a dried calabash.
It was full and heavy, liquid sloshing within.
These days, fresh water was worth more than gold.
She likely spent weeks collecting what little could be drawn from the underground stream beneath the mountain—a feat in and of itself.
“Please take caution, my lord. You must promise your safe return.”
Houyi pressed his lips to her cheek, relishing the momentary coolness of her skin. “For you, my lady, I will move Heaven and Earth.”
With that, he adjusted his grip on his bamboo bow and quiver before setting out to do what many had deemed impossible—to kill the very stars above.
The heat was unbearable, the air horrendously dry. He could hardly draw breath without the back of his throat cracking and his lungs burning up from within.
Ten star gods hung low in the sky, all of them as brilliant as they were blinding. They laughed at his efforts to climb to the tallest peak of the tallest mountain, and laughed harder still when Houyi readied his bow, nocked his arrow, and aimed toward the sky.
“Begone!” he shouted toward the stars. “Lest I pierce you each through the heart.”
“Do you mean to amuse us, little archer?” the first star replied mockingly. “Your hubris shall be your undoing.”
“I shall only warn you once!” Houyi declared, steadying his breath as he prepared to loose his arrow.
The ten stars only burned brighter in response, setting the land ablaze and evaporating the remaining rivers.
So hot was the air around Houyi that his sweat dried the moment it formed upon his brow.
Crops shriveled and turned to dust. Critters burrowed deeper into the ground in search of relief.
His warning unheeded, Houyi fired his bow—
And pierced the first star in the heart.
Startled by the archer’s impossible aim, the star god stumbled from his place in the sky and plummeted beyond the horizon with an earsplitting scream.
Before the rest of the stars had a chance to react, Houyi let loose another arrow, and then another—and then another.
One by one, the stars fell from their seats in Heaven until only one remained.
“Still thy bow, Lord Archer,” the final star pleaded. “A grave mistake it would be to kill me as you have done my brothers.”
“Tell me why I should spare you after the torture you have wrought.”
“You cannot survive in total darkness, mortal. Spare me, and I will ensure your forests will flourish and your bountiful harvests will bloom. Without my aid, all will freeze and die.”
As angry as he was, Houyi knew the star spoke the truth. Life and light went hand in hand, as did Death and darkness.
“How do I know you will not retaliate?” Houyi asked. “I let you live, and you use the rest of your magic to burn me when my back is turned.”
“Then this, too, I shall promise,” the star god replied. “I will bestow upon you and your line my godly blessing. Seal my magic within your souls to protect you through all endeavors, and in turn, you will be the protectors of mankind forevermore.”
Houyi could not be sure if this was a ploy. The gods, after all, were a crafty sort. With this offer, Houyi’s wife and child—and the rest of the world, for that matter—would finally be unburdened.
“Very well,” he said. “Let it be so.”
Slowly, he lowered his weapon and shrugged off the overbearing weight of his linens. Houyi was pleasantly surprised when his skin did not immediately burn and blister.
He welcomed the delightful warmth of the singular star, where it would remain for the rest of time—known solely as the Sun.