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I didn't do anything... except cause problems.

Well, don't think too much about what Xiaohe said. He's alright most of the time, but he gets all angry and stubborn when it comes to farming. All the young Tianshis he tutors are scared of him.

He's already a Shouye Tianshi?

I think? He takes over Shu's lessons when she's busy. There are so many kinds of Tianshi, I just can't keep track of them.

Say, why are you called Candlestick, anyway?

Candleholder?

Yeah! It's so weird. Nobody uses candles anymore.

The title 'Candleholder' comes from...

Never mind. It means that I'm one of Yan's official Messengers.

Well, mind that you don't accidentally set the letters on fire.

Pfft.

What are you snickering at, sketchbook Inkbrush?

Nothing, Candlestick messenger.

The sky grows dark. The summer breeze brings the fresh scent of the earth.

Insects sing amongst the grass as the stars rise.

There is a figure wandering not far away, and Grain Buds picks it up right away.

Xiaohe! When are you gonna come over?

Are you still angry that I asked you to help get the Tianshis to register the foals?

I'm not angry.

I'm just exhausted after dealing with the foals he brought back.

Oh... do you need to go to bed?

And we need to name the pair. They were found together... I've got an idea! Let's name them Xiaoman like 'Grain Buds' and Xiaohe like 'Grain Stalk'!

No way.

He Sheng sits down on the grass.

Sorry. If you're still angry at me.

I'm not really angry at you...

Candlestick! What is a Messenger like you doing in Dahuang? You're not delivering letters, just playing with us all day.

I made a mistake. Father sent me here to learn.

But I'm still not sure what I'm supposed to learn, or how I'm supposed to learn it.

In my old job, there were a lot of things that hadn't been cleared up, but Father wouldn't let me investigate. I'm not even sure what I'm doing here...

Wow, your dad's scary.

When the teachers at the Tianshi Bureau scold the kids even younger than me, they say that if you don't behave, your baba and mama will come and punish you.

Well, Candlestick got punished by his baba. But I've made so many mistakes, so why don't my baba and mama come and punish me?

Your parents...?

Shu says my parents are Tianshis in a place far away. But she never told me what they do, or why I don't hear from them.

The Xiangzhang says my parents named me Xiaoman, or Grain Buds, because they think we should be content with the little things, like grains in the field.

General Zuo must be hoping that you'll live a happy and carefree life, Zuo Le.

The Grandmaster must hope that you will be content and comfortable in whatever situation then, Yun.

Come to think of it, I never got the chance to ask you your name.

Yun Qingping. People sometimes say it sounds like a girl's name.

Not at all. It's nice.

Reminds me of lotus ponds in summer.

Xiaohe's name has a story behind it too! The farmers found him in the rice fields. The old folks thought he was born from the rice crops, which is how he got a name that means rice stalk.

Shu still has a picture from back then! I'll bring it tomorrow.

Grain Buds!

Everyone loves that photo. Candlestick and Inkbrush should see it too!

(Why doesn't He Sheng get a nickname beyond Xiaohe?)

(Why not contribute one? Grain Buds here seems quite amendable to suggestions.)

The summer evening breeze brushes their hair, to the accompaniment of cicada songs.

A few fireflies take to the air, while stars fall from the sky.

Grain Buds is no longer chasing the fireflies. She sits on the grass smelling of night dew, panting from the chase.

There is no room for gloom or worry in the heart of the young and innocent. She only has eyes for the sincere joy of the present.

Look! Shooting stars!

According to Shu, the old Shennong stories say that crops grow well where the shooting star falls.

Should we go and see where they fell?

She said that to get you to come down from your tree and go to bed. You seriously think it's true?

Of course I do!

But it's very far away, way beyond Dahuang.

Then we'll leave Dahuang.

What if they fell at the edge of Heaven?

Then we'll go to the edge of Heaven! I'll go. You'll come too, Xiaohe, and the rest of you, too.

There's a lot of time to look for them before the sun rises.

Maybe we'll never find them, and keep walking until we're all grandpas and grandmas.

Searching for stars?

Hah, yes, searching for stars.

Has it occurred to you that this may be what you're supposed to be looking for?

Stars?

Yeah!

Come, let's cross this stream!

Hey, Zuo Le.

How old are you?

Nineteen.

Hm...

What's the matter?

Nothing... I'm older than you.

Wei, what are you talking about over there?

Tomorrow is the Xiazhi. Dahuang will be holding the Shennong Festival, welcoming Shennong with songs and costumes. Let's go have some fun!

Didn't you say you wanted to look for the stars?

I said, until the sun rises.

The Shennong Festival? That's not for fun, is it?

Of course it is! They put on plays and fairs, and there's lots to eat! The Xiangzhang says everybody has been working so hard, we should relax a little.

Xiaohe's going. I'm gonna play the flute... there are other shows too!

Alright, I'll go and see.

I'll see... and think.

Another lost harvest.

Sow the seeds, raise the seedlings, only to see it all taken away by Catastrophe.

We took our land back from the Feranmuts. Why, then, do so many people continue to suffer?

Is there a land not afflicted by Catastrophe? Wind, frost, rain and snow we can handle, but Catastrophe and Originium are a whole different matter. People they touch fall ill; crops they touch die.

Farmers look for the right soil to plant their crops. If this land is not fit for humans, who 'planted' us here in the first place?

We must find a way. Man must eat.

Let the wild plains, rivers and mountains come! Harsh is the east wind, the frozen moon, heavens fickle, raging thunder♪

May the scent of rice fill Heaven and earth, north and south, and fear neither drought nor flood! If only I was the wind and spring rain, bringing spring to the people♪

Plow the great plains and soak them with blood, sweat, and tears! Trample a thousand li flat, and turn them into fields of gold♪

The scorching sun of the sixth month has turned the city into an oven. The occasional wind brings the pleasant scent of rice and warms the heart.

This year's opera is particularly popular. The space in front of the stage is filled with people, heads bobbing up and down as they stand on tip-toes, trying to get a better view while unconsciously humming along.

Zuo Le watches the stage from afar. The actors are dressed in fashions of the past, their motions theatrically exaggerated, belting out verses in a regional dialect that he does not fully understand.

What's it about?

The story of Shennong putting the land of Dahuang to the plow for the first time.

The three-act opera is an essential part of the annual Shennong Festival. This is the second act, Signs of Heaven.

Why isn't it in the local dialect?