“The God of Minor Troubles” by Megan Chee - It's Storytime with Wil Wheaton

Summary of “The God of Minor Troubles” by Megan Chee

Podcast: It's Storytime with Wil Wheaton
Host/Author: Wil Wheaton
Episode Release Date: April 9, 2025
Author: Megan Chee

I. Introduction

In this episode of It's Storytime with Wil Wheaton, Wil narrates Megan Chee's compelling short story, “The God of Minor Troubles.” The tale delves into the whimsical yet profound responsibilities of Juning, the newly appointed God of Minor Troubles, as he navigates his divine duties amidst the evolving complexities of the mortal world.

II. Synopsis

“The God of Minor Troubles” unfolds in a celestial realm where gods and goddesses are assigned their domains by the Immortal Emperor. Juning, the 44th son of heaven, arrives tardily to his summons, resulting in his unexpected appointment as the God of Minor Troubles—a role overseeing the seemingly insignificant yet personally impactful inconveniences of mortals.

As civilization evolves, the nature of mortal prayers shifts from dire pleas for survival to petitions for minor vexations. Juning grapples with the monotony and perceived insignificance of his duties, often seeking solace in the company of his sister, Huy Min, the Goddess of Lonely Places. However, his patience wears thin when he encounters an old warrior woman, Pei, whose fervent resolve to combat bandits challenges his understanding of "minor" troubles.

III. Key Characters

Juning: The 44th son of heaven, newly appointed as the God of Minor Troubles. Struggles with the monotony of his role and longs for more significant divine responsibilities.
Huy Min: Juning’s sister, the 51st daughter of heaven, serving as the Goddess of Lonely Places. Provides a contrasting perspective on divine duties.
Pei: A resolute old warrior determined to protect her village from bandits. Her interactions with Juning reveal deeper layers of what constitutes a "minor" trouble.

IV. Major Plot Points

Appointment and Reluctance: Juning’s late arrival at the Golden Sky Palace leads to his unexpected role as the God of Minor Troubles. “Minor troubles, the Immortal Emperor confirmed.” (04:30)
Dissatisfaction with Duties: As Juning oversees trivial mortal complaints, his frustration grows, especially when he feels his role is undervalued.
Encounter with Pei: An intense interaction with Pei, a warrior grappling with her impending battle against bandits, forces Juning to reconsider the significance of his responsibilities.
Pei’s Battle: Through Pei’s courageous fight, it becomes evident that even minor troubles can have profound impacts on individuals, challenging Juning’s initial perceptions.
Realization and Growth: Juning begins to understand the intrinsic value of his role, recognizing that minor troubles are integral to the human experience.

V. Themes and Insights

Perception of Significance: The story explores how what is deemed "minor" can hold substantial personal importance, emphasizing that every individual's struggles are valid.
Responsibility and Duty: Juning's journey highlights the essence of embracing one's responsibilities, regardless of their scale.
Interconnectedness of Experiences: The interplay between Juning’s divine duties and Pei’s mortal challenges illustrates the profound connection between celestial oversight and human resilience.

VI. Notable Quotes

Juning’s Frustration:
“I am the God of Minor Troubles.” (15:45)
“These minor troubles will feel very real to them, at least for a moment.” (08:20)
Immortal Emperor’s Clarification:
“A student preparing for an examination will pray to the God of Scholars for sharpness of mind. And an unfortunate mortal who finds a hole in their favorite shirt will utter a prayer to you.” (07:50)
Pei’s Determination:
“I am a warrior still, and I will not leave the village to their fate.” (21:10)
“My troubles are not minor. I am not that insignificant.” (26:35)
Juning’s Realization:
“What difference could five minutes make?” (03:15)
“Perhaps now that she was contented and had no more troubles, she was no longer his problem.” (22:50)

VII. Conclusion

“The God of Minor Troubles” masterfully intertwines celestial duties with human perseverance, challenging the reader to recognize the importance of every individual's struggles, no matter how small they may seem. Juning's evolution from reluctant deity to a more empathetic overseer underscores the narrative's core message: that minor troubles are the fabric of meaningful human experiences. Megan Chee crafts a poignant reminder that in the grand tapestry of existence, every thread, no matter how fine, holds its own significance.

VIII. Author's Background

Megan Chee, an accomplished speculative fiction writer, has shared her narratives across esteemed platforms such as Clark's World Magazine, Lightspeed Magazine, and Fantasy Magazine. Currently based in Singapore, her works continue to captivate audiences with their imaginative depth and emotional resonance. To explore more of Megan Chee's stories, visit Megan Chi Card or connect through her social channels.

This summary was produced based on the transcript and podcast information provided. For a deeper experience, listeners are encouraged to tune into the full episode of “The God of Minor Troubles” on It's Storytime with Wil Wheaton.

Transcript

Wil Wheaton (0:00)

This episode is brought to you by Shopify. Upgrade your business with Shopify, home of the number one checkout on the planet. Shop pay boosts conversions up to 50%, meaning fewer carts going abandoned and more sales going cha ching. So if you're into growing your business, get a commerce platform that's ready to sell wherever your customers are. Visit shopify.com to upgrade your selling today. Hi friends, welcome. I'm Wil Wheaton, and it's story time. From a mortal's perspective, a God is a God is a God omnipotence. It doesn't really exist on a spectrum. It is pretty binary. From a God's perspective, they do not see it that way. From the moment humans dreamed them into existence, the gods have fought among themselves to determine which mortals they will hear, what responsibilities each of them will have and how those responsibilities will be divided amongst the firmament, while we mortals merely hope our prayers will be heard. It turns out that some of the gods answering them aren't particularly thrilled with their assignment. I am about to introduce you to one of those gods who does not yet know that it's actually pretty major to be the God of Minor Troubles. Foreign the God of Minor Troubles By Megan Chi Many eons ago, when the first dawn broke over the newborn mortal world, the children of the heavenly realm assembled the Golden Sky Palace. They knelt before the immortal Emperor, their foreheads pressed respectfully to the floor. One by one, he bid them rise and approach the throne to receive their mandates of duty. Jun Li, the third son, was appointed God of the Hunt. Suyin, the eighth daughter, was named Goddess of Scholars, and so on and so forth. Each new God and goddess leapt from the palace windows to fly down to the mortal world, their silk robes and long hair fluttering in the wind, tuning. The 44th Son of Heaven wasn't there. He was late in the ages to come. He would blame his tardiness on a variety of circumstances quite out of his control. The wind, he would argue, was unseasonably gusty and insisted on blowing in a contrary direction. The distance to the Golden sky palace seemed atypically stretched out that day, no doubt some mischief played by the spirits who were hard at work weaving the fabric of the young mortal world. Deep down, he knew he had no one to blame but himself. He had been on the moon when he received the summons, dozing beside one of the shallow pools of liquid silver that dotted the moon's surface. The heavenly rabbit who had been sent to summon him thumped its hind legs to get his attention. Lord Duning your presence is required in the Golden Sky Palace. The Immortal Emperor himself commands it. Very well tuning said, cracking an eye open. I will be on my way shortly. In five minutes. It was so tranquil here, lounging by a silver pool beneath a star frosted sky. He would just rest his eyes for five more minutes. What difference could five minutes make? An hour later he was hurtling through the sky in a panic. After what felt like an eternity, the Golden sky palace finally came to view. It was a grand pagoda perched on a curling cloud, the entire structure bobbing gently in the wind. His sister, Huy Min, the 51st daughter of heaven, stepped out of the door and floated toward him as he approached. She shook her head disapprovingly. You've missed the ceremony. You'd best go in and make your apologies to the Emperor. Good luck, brother, and goodbye. He stopped short. Goodbye. The Emperor has named me the Goddess of Lonely Places. She smiled shyly. It is what I hoped for. I will go to the silent caverns and the snow capped mountaintops and the underground rivers. As humankind grows and spreads across the world, I will linger in the lonely places and watch over them. I think our paths will not cross again soon. Oh, jining said, feeling an odd twist in his chest. Then farewell, sister. He landed on the front step of the pagoda, nervously tugged his robe straight, and entered the palace. He immediately dropped to his knees and kowtowed on the ground before the dais. He dared not look up into the Emperor's face and instead stared at his magnificent white beard. The Emperor's voice was so deep that Juning could feel its rumbling resonance through the floor. Juning, the 44th son of heaven, who answered late my summons. A smidge late, jining mumbled. I appoint you the God of Minor Troubles. There was a pause. Minor troubles? Jining asked. Minor troubles, the Immortal Emperor confirmed. May I beg your Immortal Highness for a more specific definition of minor troubles? If Juning didn't know any better, he would say there was a note of amusement in the Emperor's thunderclap voice. A soldier on the eve of battle will pray to the God of Warriors for strength and courage. A student preparing for an examination will pray to the God of Scholars for sharpness of mind. And an unfortunate mortal who finds a hole in their favorite shirt will utter a prayer to you. Is that clarity enough? Jining swallowed. Your Immortal Highness, I truly apologize for the offense I gave with my lateness. This is no punishment, Jining. It may seem trivial to immortals like you and I, but mortals live for only a flicker before they are gone. These minor troubles will feel very real to them, at least for a moment. And in these moments of vexation, they will call to you. Now go forth and listen. The first couple of millennia weren't too bad. Back in the infancy of civilization, mortal lives were short and brutal. There was nothing minor about their troubles then. They prayed for mercy to greater gods as they ran screaming from wild animals, shivered in caves, and died of horrible diseases. Tuning was free to indulge in his favorite pastimes, namely lounging, lazing, and daydreaming. But mortal civilization persevered through the ages. For whatever reason, they seemed absolutely determined to stay alive in time. They built cities and palaces, kingdoms defended their borders against invaders, while wandering heroes fought in defense of the common folk. And as humanity multiplied, so did their worries. It was maddening and tedious. But even Jining, lazy loud of a godling that he was, dared not turn his back on a duty bestowed by the Immortal Emperor. And so he listened to every prayer and gave them the consideration they were due. On rare occasion, he intervened on behalf of the mortals, who earned his sympathy. When he needed a break from mortals and their whining, he paid a visit to his sister, the goddess of lonely places. She she dwelled in the ruins of a ship at the bottom of the ocean, spending her days in quiet contemplation. They lay side by side in the shipwreck, gazing up through the water where the faint shimmer of moonlight was just visible through the rippling waves. It was so beautiful here, so peaceful. And damn it all, that wretched serving girl forgot to light the fires again. Jining winced as the prayer reverberated its way to him through the water. School of fish scattered in alarm. His sister gave him an uncharacteristic scowl. It was clear his minor troubles were disturbing the sanctity of the lonely places. I'll go, tuning said with a sigh and left. It's broken. My favorite. Oh no. I thought I finished that already. Why won't he just leave me alone? And then a deafening shriek cut through the low, constant hum of troubles. By all the gods and spirits, I just need a good night's sleep. Jining almost fell out of the air in fright. He looked around as though expecting to find a mortal yelling directly into his ear. But since he was currently lying in a cloud, he was alone, unsurprisingly. How can I be expected to fight for justice when I awaken five times a night? Jining gritted his teeth and pulled a wisp of cloud over his head. A martial Artist needs her rest before she can battle evil, jining growled. He focused his senses and followed the mortal's abrasive voice. He flew over rivers and fields and villages until he finally arrived at a small camp at the bottom of a mountain. An old woman lay upon a mat, wide awake and scowling at the sky. I'll end up falling asleep in the middle of battle. I beg of you, jining whispered. Pray more quietly. The woman gasped in shock, jumping to her feet. She certainly seemed spry for a mortal of her advanced age. Who are you? She demanded. What do you want? You prayed to me, he said a bit tetchily. And I answered. She narrowed her eyes. You are Siu Hu, the God of Warriors. No, Juning said. I am Juning, the God of Minor Troubles. The what? The God of Minor Troubles. She stared at him. He stared back appraisingly. She was tall and severe, her thinning white hair pulled back into a tight bun. She was thin but wiry. My troubles are not minor, Lord Jining, she said firmly. In two days time, I plan to march upon the village at the top of the mountain and liberate the good people there from the bandits who have taken them prisoner. Jining raised an eyebrow. You plan to fight off these bandits yourself? The woman drew herself up a little taller. In my youth, I was trained by the greatest masters in the land, but I turned my back on the path to marry and bear children, and for many years I did not touch the hilt of my sword. Now my husband is gone, and my children have children of their own. I left the city to spend my twilight years on the path I once abandoned. I am a warrior still, and I will not leave the village to their fate. I see, jining said doubtfully. It seemed to him that those twilight years would soon come to an abrupt end. I will grant you your good night's sleep. She bowed shortly. I thank you, Lord Jining, and I would be most grateful if you would intercede on my behalf with the God of Warriors. I am in great need of his blessing, juning said, and vanished. Ah, these damned boots. I thought I mended them already. Ugh. Juning groaned, pressing his hands over his ears. It didn't help, of course, but the woman's incessant complaining drilled straight into his skull. How am I to fight with stones in my boots? He flew to the mountain in a fury. She was bent over a pair of tattered boots, needle and thread in hand. How dare you demand so much of my attention? He raged. Do you think you are the only person in the world with minor troubles. She squinted up at him, one wrinkled hand shielding her eyes from the sun. I prayed to the God of Warriors, not to you, she said. Such impudence. Juning was so incensed that he felt flames spark in his eyes, but the tiresome old woman did not even flinch. Yet here I am. I am facing a warrior's death, she replied, standing up and facing him with her arms stubbornly crossed. Do my prayers not deserve to be heard by the God of Warriors? My troubles are not minor. I am not that insignificant. He could flatten her like an insect for such an insult. It was his right as a God. It makes no difference to me, he said. Tomorrow you will be dead, and no one will ever hear your prayers again. Her lips pressed together tightly. She stared at him and said nothing. Your boots have been mended. Jining snapped and flew away. Lord Jeuning. Jining cracked one eye open. It had been an unusually peaceful evening. He was dozing in the eye of a storm, the wind and rain lashing all around but never touching him. It was a very cozy spot. What now? He demanded, projecting his voice over the distance to the irksome old woman. You might have struck me down for my insolence, but you did not. That was a kindness. Realizing that his peaceful evening was over, Jining sighed and flew to the old woman's camp, where he found her sitting on the mat, her sword laid across her lap. Indeed, you were deplorably insolent, he said. But I shall forgive you. I am very magnanimous. He turned to depart. Wait, Lord Jning, she said. I do have a minor trouble. I am troubled to be alone on the last night of my life. Will you stay and tell me a little of yourself? Of myself? He asked, perplexed. Yes. You are an immortal. Surely you have many stories to tell. Jining hesitated. Very well, he said. I will tell you the tale of how I came to be the God of Minor Troubles. The Immortal Emperor assured me it was no punishment, but I have my doubts. I was on the moon when he summoned us to the Golden Sky Palace. Hae marched up the mountain road. She wished she could say she felt no fear, but that would be a lie. It wasn't death she feared. It was mockery and humiliation. She had horrible visions of the bandits cutting her down with ease, laughing at the foolish old woman who thought she was still a martial artist. The God of Warriors had not even seen fit to give her his blessing. But still, she reminded herself, she had spent her last days in the presence of a God. A rather peculiar God, but a God nonetheless. The bandits had overrun the tiny mountaintop village. There were seven of them, armed to the teeth. They had settled in the biggest houses, devouring the villagers food and wine while the villagers cowered in their basements. Pei walked into the village square, her gaze fixed straight ahead, refusing to react as she sensed rather than saw men emerge from houses around her. She unsheathed her sword in one smooth motion. I demand that you leave this village, she said, her voice clear and strong. You have no place here. The leader of the bandits chuckled. It's truly pitiful when grandmothers go senile. He hefted his own sword. Pay leaped and twisted as the bandit leader swung his sword. Her joints creaked, but the memory of lifelong training still sang within her. She jumped high and for a single drawn out moment seemed to hang in mid air, the world going silent around her. And then she stabbed downward with her sword, skewering the bandit through the chest. He staggered. The astonishment on his face was a sight to behold before he crumpled to the ground. There was a brief silence, and then the other bandits rushed at her, screaming. Pei lost herself in the dance. She spun and kicked, and her sword was a whirl. And for a few seconds she was once again young and invincible. For a few seconds. And then a blow caught her on the side of the head, sending her reeling. She fell to her hands and knees, suddenly feeling every aching joint, every brittle bone. She looked up and saw a bandit poised to stab his sword through her chest. She bared her teeth as death came for her. And then the bandit stumbled. Pei slashed her sword across his throat before he had a chance to find his footing. Blood sprayed. She struck true again and again. But even amidst the fever of battle, she noticed something curious. Moments when their aim was just a little off, their swords just a whisper. Too slow. Tiny things, really. Too minor to turn the tide of battle, but enough to give her an advantage. Sword lifted high above her head, she looked around wildly for her next opponent and realized there was none. She was surrounded by seven corpses. She cackled in triumph. Then she collapsed. The villagers were making a huge fuss over her, and Pei was enjoying herself greatly. They had called on a physician from a neighboring town who had seen to her wounds and told her it was a miracle that she was still walking. While she recovered, the villagers set her up in their biggest house and waited attentively on her every need. She reclined in a chair on the porch, which overlooked the mountain pass. It was a clear, lovely day. Feeling a little silly, Kay cleared her throat. Lord Duning? She asked tentatively. Nothing happened. Lord Jing. She called again, louder. Still nothing. Perhaps now that she was contented and had no more troubles, she was no longer his problem. That was probably for the best. She had taken up enough of his time. She reached for her cup of chilled sour plum juice, but her hand bumped against it, sending it spilling. Damn. She cursed, mopping at the mess with the hem of her tunic. Really? Lord Jining said, exasperated. Do you still have troubles to complain about? It seems so, pei said. I am a cantankerous old lady and have no shortage of complaints. Come sit. Do you like sour plum juice? I have never tried it. Jeaning sat on the stool next to her and took the cup she poured him. He sipped it. Hmm. Satisfactory. It is very peaceful here, is it not? Cheating looked out at the mountain pass and the valley beyond, where the trees swayed gently in the breeze. I suppose it is. You could stay a little while, pei suggested. Take a well deserved break. Perhaps a nap. Unless your duties are calling you away already. I do have many onerous duties, jining said reluctantly. The sound of something breaking, followed by a cry of dismay reached their ears from the neighboring house. Perhaps I can attend to them from here, at least for a while, jining said, and then he closed his eyes and fell asleep. We hope you enjoyed the God of Minor Troubles By Megan Chi Megan Chi has lived in Taiwan, Hong Kong, and the United States, and is currently based in Singapore. Her speculative short fiction has appeared in Clark's World Magazine, Lightspeed Magazine, Fantasy Magazine, Nature Futures, Cast of Wonders, and other venues. You can find her online at Megan Chi Card that's C A R R D Co or on The Socials Aganflchi It's Storytime with Wil Wheaton was produced in 2025 by Traveler Enterprises Incorporated, who holds the copyright. Our producer is Harris Lane. Our story producer and director is Gabrielle Dicure. Our content editor are Lynn and Michael Thomas. Our podcast is edited, mixed, and mastered by Alex Barton of Phase Shift av. Very special thanks to Wes Stevens, Christopher Black, and Marina Piper. This podcast was recorded at Skyboat Media. Thank you so much for listening. As I said at the beginning of the show, I am so glad that you are here and I hope that you will come back for the next one. Until then, if you'd like to help the podcast grow, please review Us like us. Subscribe to us. There's a word that I am forgetting that everybody says at the ends of these things. Do whatever that is. And I'm genuinely glad and grateful that you spent some time with me today. Until next time, I am Wil Wheaton. You can find me@wilwheaton.net net please take care of yourselves and take care of each other.