The day Wang Yu was laid off, a game appeared on his computer that he couldn't uninstall.
Other people's divine kingdoms were resplendent. His was a drafty little temple, with thirteen primitive believers, no incense offerings, and not enough power to raise even a breeze.
He thought it was malware, until...
Half a millet cake bought him a mighty wind;
Ten rainstorms filled a river until it flooded the mountains, sweeping away the enemy tribe that had launched a night raid;
A believer offered a deer leg, and the next second it landed with a thud beside his instant noodle cup, still warm.
In real life, he was a wage slave who couldn't pay his rent and was nearly blind;
On screen, he was the God of Yu, who could summon wind and rain, worshipped by thirty-four believers.
The salt and lighter he bestowed were revered as divine objects of heavenly fire;
His believers carved his offhand remarks into sacred scripture.
Other people spent money on games. He played games to be a god, gather followers, and pay his mortgage.
Even gods have to pay rent.
The thing is, can I cash in these offerings?
