53 Holy Mother Church Lushan Grand Hall

Within the grand hall of the Holy Mother’s Church, shaped like a nine-leaf fan, the lighting was superb; sunlight streamed through sixteen large windows, illuminating the hall with brilliance. There were four rows of twelve benches, each crafted from wood and joined together, totaling forty-eight benches. With five people seated per bench, the hall could accommodate two hundred and forty worshippers. If people also stood in the spaces between the rows, the capacity would exceed three hundred.

At the far end of the benches, deep within the hall, stood a raised platform five paces wide and ten paces long. At its center, against the wall, was a stone statue over two meters tall. The statue depicted a woman, her countenance gentle and kind, instantly evoking an aura of compassion akin to the later depictions of the Bodhisattva. In fact, the statue was crafted from a familiar mold. To design the appearance of the goddess Nuwa, Luan Yi racked his brains, but could not conjure an image that would immediately inspire a sense of affinity. In the end, he simply borrowed the visage of the Bodhisattva, transplanting it onto the Holy Mother Nuwa. After all, in the Han dynasty, the Buddhist tradition had not yet developed the figure of the Bodhisattva.

She wore a silk gown, her form graceful, a peerless beauty. Uniquely, her lower body was not human legs, but the body of a serpent—a classic representation of Nuwa in myth.

Yet Luan Yi innovated upon tradition, blending the image of Nuwa with Christian symbolism. He devised an unusual pose: Nuwa, the Holy Mother, stood with arms outstretched as if embracing all humanity, her serpentine lower body supporting her upright, forming the shape of a cross. In this way, Luan Yi seamlessly grafted the Catholic blood-red cross onto the Holy Mother’s Church.

On both sides of the hall, the walls were adorned with exquisite murals, personally painted by Mao Jie. The murals resembled illustrated stories. The left wall told the tale of a humble farmer, honest and helpful, who came to the church every six days to pray to the Holy Mother, each time donating one of his meager ten copper coins. Years later, when the farmer grew old and near death, the Holy Mother descended from the heavens, a halo above her head, to his bedside, and led his soul to the kingdom of heaven—a vast realm atop the clouds. There, she granted him a great expanse of land that bore fruit without cultivation, with endless food and livestock.

On the right wall was the story of a well-dressed scholar, the farmer’s opposite: idle, oppressive, and immoral. Upon his death, the Holy Mother cast him into the eighteen levels of hell, where he suffered unending torment—flaying, tendon extraction, eye gouging, nose cutting, boiling in oil. Mao Jie’s artistry was vivid; the scenes of punishment were so lifelike and haunting that even Luan Yi shuddered.

On either side of the hall were side rooms. The left housed the scripture library and reading room. Though called a scripture library, it contained not only the Holy Maiden’s Gospel but also the Hongdu Stone Classics printed by the Luan family and written by Cai Yong; Luan Yi’s own works, Strange Tales from the Studio and On Wealth; and a collection of various classical texts, though these remained in bamboo scrolls, not yet printed.

The reading room, as its name implied, was for perusing books. According to Luan Yi’s plan, it would later host small study groups or scripture classes. The room’s walls also featured murals, depicting each day of the Holy Mother’s six-day creation and the seventh day of teaching humanity.

The right side of the hall contained the dining room, where church staff took their meals. On the first Sunday after the fifteenth of each month, the church offered a free lunch to worshippers after services. Like the reading room, the dining room’s walls were painted with scenes depicting the bliss of paradise and the requirements for entering it.

Behind the main hall, in the second courtyard, stood six large rooms. One served as the clinic, where, on odd-numbered days each month, renowned doctors from the Luan family pharmacy in Licheng County came to offer consultations. Church members paid no fees for the consultation, and medicine costs were waived or reduced according to their means.

Next to the clinic were two wards, where distant and impoverished patients could stay and receive careful care. The remaining rooms served as dormitories for clergy.

Past the dormitories lay the final courtyard, the academy, a dedicated educational institution of the Holy Mother’s Church. In time, Luan Yi planned to admit a group of impoverished children for elementary education. Unlike other academies, the children here would not read the Analects or the Book of Songs, but the unique Holy Mother’s Gospel. From an early age, they would be indoctrinated in the church’s teachings, destined to become the backbone of its propagation.

As the future leader of the Holy Mother’s Church, Luan Yi realized that to spread its doctrine successfully, he needed not only a magnificent religious sanctuary but also a capable missionary team. The fundamental requirement for such a team was that its members truly believed in the Holy Mother, sincerely acknowledging her as the creator and guide of the world.

Thus, while constructing the Holy Mother’s Church in Mount Li, Luan Yi took time to systematically train his entire household—from parents to craftsmen, guards, maids, and servants—with daily sessions lasting half an hour. The performers, Xiao Wu and Xiao Bai, brought from Yingchuan, received an extra half-hour of instruction in rhetoric.

During lessons, Luan Yi taught the Holy Mother’s Gospel, explaining who she was, what she had done for mankind, where heaven lay, how wondrous it was, how to ascend to it, how one might fall to hell, and the torments therein. He instilled the belief that all rights and wealth were bestowed by the Holy Mother, thus everyone should serve her—the Lord of All—with reverence and gratitude.

He also required daily prayers before and after meals, teaching the proper form: beginning with “Holy Mother,” “Lord Mother,” or “my merciful Mother,” followed by requests, gratitude, repentance, or blessings, ending with “Heaven’s Gate,” expressing the hope to pass through it after death to reach paradise.

A typical prayer of thanksgiving was: “My merciful Mother! I praise you; you are the glorious deity and creator of heaven and earth. The heavens proclaim your glory, the skies reveal your kindness; day to day utters your words, night to night reveals your knowledge, your measure spans the world, your words reach the ends of the earth. You pour from the lofts onto the mountains, and by your deeds the earth is enriched. Lord Mother, how abundant are your creations, made by your wisdom; the world is filled with your bounty. Ah, Heaven’s Gate!” This was the classic prayer of gratitude in the Holy Mother’s Church.

To Luan Yi’s surprise, most of his household quickly immersed themselves in the imagined world the church had created. A few, after continued lessons, even declared their willingness to accept the Holy Mother as the greatest deity and the sovereign of humankind.

Luan Yi was perplexed; he had expected it would take at least two months to achieve such results, yet in less than one month, he had successfully rooted the fictional image of the Holy Mother deep within his household’s souls.

Unable to fathom the reason, he sought out his trusted servant, Luan Fu. Luan Fu replied confidently, “Young master, at seven you wrote Strange Tales, at nine you composed On Wealth, publishing books at such a tender age; at thirteen you dazzled the capital’s poetry gatherings, and at the banquet of Minister Yuan you created extraordinary music, earning the praise of Xu as the divine talent to save the world. Who else at your age could achieve such things? No one; it’s unheard of. Therefore, all the servants already regard you as a deity descended. Since you are a divine lord, the church you founded must be the true faith. How could we not believe?”

Luan Yi suddenly understood. He had never considered this perspective. In other words, his reputation as a prodigy could help promote the doctrine in the future.

Luan Fu continued, “Moreover, many servants initially doubted the efficacy of prayer, wondering if wishes could come true without burning incense or kowtowing to the Lord Mother. But, guess what? It worked. One day, Xiao Cui lost a pair of bracelets and searched everywhere, to no avail. The bracelets had been gifted by you during the Lantern Festival, and she cherished them dearly. Desperate, she prayed openly to the Lord Mother, asking for guidance to find them. The next morning, the bracelets appeared in her cabinet. She was certain she had searched it the day before, yet now they materialized. Everyone heard of it and marveled, secretly praising the Holy Mother’s boundless power.”

Luan Yi could not help but laugh. Was it truly the goddess Nuwa who found Xiao Cui’s bracelets? Of course not; the truth was likely the work of a petty thief. Someone stole the bracelets but, upon hearing Xiao Cui pray, was either struck by fear of the divine or simply moved by guilt. So, the next day, they returned the bracelets to her cabinet. Xiao Cui, unaware of this, naturally attributed the recovery to her prayer to the Holy Mother.