Today was the festival–a bittersweet opportunity for Jiehong to remember what he was truly capable of, without any restrictions. He looked forward to the festivals and yet dreaded them terribly. Finally, the process began. The smile on his face grew and shone brilliantly, as he felt some of the weight which was constantly restricting him, lift. His hair moved lightly as though there were a gentle breeze. His skin glowed radiantly. For a short time, he was no longer cut off from his powers. The oppressive force being gone allowed flowers to bloom across his neck, chest, and arms. Throughout his hair as well. They moved individually, sprouting into a beautiful array of many colours in some kind of unison as they covered the man. 

This was the part he truly enjoyed: knowing that his creations could grow and be nurtured in ways only he could provide. They were his pride and joy–the one thing which made him smile relentlessly. It was such a novel thing, and he was determined to enjoy every minute he was allowed.

He always felt a sense of freedom during the festivals. And, although he knew it was only because he was of use to the other Gods in this way, he ignored that fact. During this freedom, Jiehong allowed himself to actually feel alive and once again become the self he had been all those years ago. 

He glanced at Jinzha, a smile on his face and the many flowers surrounding him. He pet them gently on the head as they looked at him inquisitively. 

 “Let's enjoy ourselves, yes? Today will be a beautiful day. Of this I am certain.” Jinzha laid quietly on the mat in the temple, ebony fur and red streaks melded in beautiful patterns covering them. Jinzha would, to most, appear rather menacing. But to Jiehong, Jinzha was beautiful, almost cute in the way they looked up toward him with those big eyes. Like a puppy, Jiehong’s brain supplied. 

Jiehong practically skipped to the front door of the temple, as he moved to the outside. Every step he took made flowers and grass spring up around him. The garden, once dried and desolate, now beamed with life that seemed to follow, swaying and growing, alongside the God. 

The area was at once surrounded by shining hues of the entire rainbow as a light laugh fell from Jiehong’s lips. Bright verdant vines grew and spread with his mirth; soft grass sprouted from the once dried dirt. He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of life. The resulting floral arrangements were stunning. 

With new blooms in place, Jiehong moved to sit on a small stone bank where runes  he couldn’t read were etched into the base. He folded himself happily across the raised platform, legs crossed underneath him as he inhaled once more before allowing his eyes to flutter close. The feeling of wind against his face and the smell of the many blossoms assaulted his senses and he felt calm. His temple was once again his haven; somewhere he could sit with good posture and yet feel more relaxed than he had in a long time.

Jinzha had followed His Highness outside as the process began. Bright, intelligent eyes watched over the God while flowers bloomed across the ground. Resting their head in the long grass, dark fur looking almost out of place among the colourful flowers, Jinzha was careful to not damage or uproot the blossoms that grew there. 

The scene changed beneath Jiehong’s eyes, though he himself did not. For the time being he allowed himself to soak in the sensations, to believe that he was truly outside of his domain and among the bustling parades of people in the Capital. He could almost smell the nearby stalls and food which wafted through the air. He could hear the children laugh and play among their families. He could see the brightly coloured lanterns and ribbons hanging in the air. Jiehong sat still, though the growing flowers around him danced in the breeze, much like the people at the festival. 

Jun Wei, the God of Wealth and Fortune, had many followers. Each cheered and laughing as confetti danced and music played. There was rice in multiple colours which coated the floor. Some people prayed, sending love and wishes toward Jun Wei, who remained sat in his temple in the Heavens, a smug smirk on his face as he ordered a nearby servant to get him another drink.

The God was pompous; pretty in a masculine way, though all of the Gods and goddesses were stunning. He sat on his throne–unmistakable for anything else–solid gold and gaudy, yet perfectly suited for the one who rested upon it. He was dressed in only the finest golden robes, hints of white peaked through the layers as metallic hues shone in the light. He had a larger frame, tan skin, eyes the colour of honey, and lips framed in a smattering of facial hair. His hands were always adorned with rubies and golden rings. He was nothing if not extravagant. He knew his worth.

Finally it was Jiehong’s time to shine. Pots of gold surrounded the festival, empty at first, but they soon began to fill with a variety of yellow, almost gold flowers. Jun Wei watched on, amused, and carefully noted each flower’s perfection in order to satisfy him and his people. Varying shades of sunflowers, daisies, yellow roses and carnations all sprang to life which added even more colour and joy to the people who watched them bloom. 

The other most fulfilling part of Jiehong’s existence as a God, something he truly loved and enjoyed, was seeing the happiness and awe on people’s faces when they witnessed the flowers seemingly sprout from the ether. He never tired of it. 

The festival was a success. It was beautiful and vibrant and Jun Wei made many a merit that day in prayers and donations. He was, afterall, rich. He happily enjoyed the closing of the festival knowing all of the wealth the day would bring him.

After, the children began to slow and grow tired and they were carried home by doting parents. Joy and a sense of calm spread around everyone as the festival came to a close. Nothing could take away the peace from these people nor the joy of the day.

Jiehong was calm and content. He had made the people happy. He had been useful. He had done what he wished to do everyday. For a single moment he was at peace. He smiled, and let go of a deep climatic breath as he allowed his eyes to flutter open once more. He glanced at his flowers as they now showcased his true emotions throughout his garden, reflecting the pure joy he was finally able to feel.

“You truly are beautiful, little ones,” he murmured. Jiehong moved amongst the flowers with his palms out. Each step allowed him to reach and caress petals with his fingertips. 

“You bring so much joy and colour to the world. Stunning and delicate,” he continued, a smile on his face. 

“Ah!” he exclaimed. His already bandaged finger had caught a thorn. He blinked, his eyes dimming slightly as he noted thorns beginning to grow among the once thornless roses. His smile still remained, though not as bright as it once was. He put on a brave face, but began to feel empty inside. 

“I am truly sorry. It appears time is against us,” he muttered, noting the drooping leaves, the wilted petals. There was nothing he could do. It happened every festival, though he preferred to strip it from his memory. 

This part… now… this was the part Jiehong disliked. He felt an uncontrollable tremor shake his body, hands unable to remain still. Panicked and stock-still, he was unable to look away as the various flowers around him perished. Each beautiful bud curled in on itself. The petals darkened and hung limp as they decayed. The once vibrant colourations turned brown, no longer beautiful things, now ruined, lifeless. Weeds and thorns once more adorned and pinched at Jiehong’s scalp and skin.

The constricting pressure from above once again returned to his body. His hair was no longer light, his skin no longer radiant. He had once again been cut off from the Heavens. As a result, the flowers around him died and turned to ash. The grass receded leaving only dried dirt behind. His favourite sakura blossom tree lost its petals slowly. They fell one by one and turned to ash before they could even reach the ground. 

Jinzha rested against Jiehong, the creature’s weight hoping to be a comfort to him as their eyes watched the God. Jiehong’s jaw clenched under the tears that trailed down his cheeks. The lonely space once full of beauty and hope had been ripped apart viciously until nothing at all remained. Forced yet again to feel and see his precious creations die until all that remained was the stench of death–this was Jiehong’s fate.