In Order To Ascend, I Became A Modern Wage Slave - Chapter 22: Xi Yu (2)

Chapter 22: Xi Yu (2)

 

Sinister and cunning!

 

Trick him?

 

Is he the type to fall for it?

 

Xi Yu’s heart was steadfast, as unmoving as a mountain.

 

The other party had clearly come to question him aggressively, not to apologize for his earlier outburst and violence.

 

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became, straightening his back even more until it seemed it might snap.

 

Xi Yi saw that Xi Yu ignored him, seemingly having expected this already. He didn’t react strongly, which only made Xi Yu feel uneasy.

 

Xi Yi said calmly, “Imperial brother, Father just passed away.”

 

“What? He’s dead?”

 

Xi Yu couldn’t keep up the act anymore. Shocked, he turned his head, trying to gauge the credibility of the statement from Xi Yi’s expression.

 

In the darkness, there wasn’t a ripple of emotion.

 

Xi Yi said incredulously, “How could he suddenly die? I visited him this morning. He told me his health was better than ever and that he could still pick me up and spin me around. How could he suddenly die in just half a day?”

 

Xi Yi retorted, “Don’t you know why?”

 

Xi Yu thought frantically and said, “How would I know?”

 

Xi Yi let out a cold laugh and said, “Because of you.”

 

“Me?”

 

The next words from Xi Yi were chilling and venomous yet utterly matter-of-fact: “If you hadn’t caused this trouble today, I wouldn’t have had to kill him now.”

 

Xi Yu’s eyes widened in shock, nearly popping out of their sockets. He grabbed Xi Yi’s hand and frantically questioned him, “You killed Father? Are you insane? You’re not lying to me, are you? You’re insane!”

 

In contrast, Xi Yi was disturbingly calm: “I’m not insane, imperial brother. This had to be resolved this way. If it weren’t for your reckless behavior today, Father could have lived for a long time.”

 

“You solve problems by killing people?”

 

“My dear imperial brother, it seems you still don’t understand the gravity of the situation. Very well, since Father’s death leaves us with ample time, let me explain it to you in detail.”

 

Xi Yu’s words today were tantamount to deceiving and risking the lives of the people, causing them to lose faith in him. And as an imperial prince, he would drag the entire royal family down with him.

 

Moreover, Xi Yu had mentioned the Bei Shang Zun Jun, who supposedly blessed the nation with “peace and prosperity.” If Xi Yu claimed this was false, the people would interpret it as “chaos and unrest.” Then he went on to suggest that gods didn’t exist and were merely fabrications.

 

Nonsense! Without gods, how could the Xi Yu Kingdom exist?

 

Such talk would lead to panic among the populace, the collapse of trust, and ultimately the disintegration of the nation.

 

The only solution was to turn the falsehood into truth—bring the Bei Shang Zun Jun to the forefront.

 

How to do that?

 

If they directly built temples and erected statues, the people would think the royal family was insincere and begin doubting the authenticity of all the other gods Xi Yu Kingdom had worshipped.

 

The situation was growing more dire.

 

Fortunately, Xi Yu Kingdom had a tradition: When a new emperor ascended the throne, the patron deity of the nation would be replaced.

 

The new patron deity would be the Bei Shang Zun Jun.

 

As for the explanation, it would be said that Xi Yu had a dream in which he saw the Bei Shang Zun Jun. Upon waking, he dismissed it as false, and the confusion arose from the exaggerated storytelling.

 

Ultimately, it was revealed that the Bei Shang Zun Jun had entered Xi Yi’s dream, explaining everything and offering guidance.

 

The grand finale would proclaim that the Bei Shang Zun Jun greatly favored this nation and would bless and protect it with “peace and prosperity.”

 

Xi Yu asked, “Do you think people will believe that?”

 

Xi Yi shook his head, a sly smile curling at his lips. “Of course not. But this mess is your doing, and others are the ones suffering for it. Do you think that’s fair?”

 

Xi Yu: “What are you planning to do?”

 

Xi Yi: “Next, I will send you to the Land of Divine Punishment for seven days. We’ll say this is the Bei Shang Zun Jun punishing you for your disrespect. This way, whether they believe or not, they’ll have no choice, because no one would ever imagine that to cover up this disaster, I would both kill my father and torture my brother.”

 

The Land of Divine Punishment was a place full of thorny forests, so dark that sunlight couldn’t penetrate. Those who entered came out maimed—if they came out at all. But they wouldn’t die there because the gods were merciful and didn’t kill.

 

Those who had gone there kept silent about it, and those who hadn’t stayed far away in fear.

 

But Xi Yu knew that the so-called Land of Divine Punishment was actually divided into two parts. One was a prearranged area equipped with whips, knives, branding irons—everything imaginable. The other was the real Land of Divine Punishment, which no one had ever entered. It was said to be a place where demons resided.

 

Xi Yu scoffed at him, “Madman. You’re an absolute madman. Aren’t you afraid I’ll expose all your actions?”

 

Xi Yu, who hadn’t had much formal education, swung his fists wildly and without technique. Xi Yi didn’t even take him seriously, kicking him to the ground. Then, kneeling halfway, he locked his hands around Xi Yu’s neck.

 

Xi Yu’s angry shouts were silenced as his legs kicked wildly, trying to escape.

 

It was futile.

 

Xi Yi leaned close to his ear and said coldly, “Xi Yu, you have no choice but to obey me.”

 

Standing up, he continued, “At this point, you should understand a few things. Who raised you? I did. Without me, would you have the reputation you enjoy today? Do you know how hard I worked to promote and fabricate your image as a deity? And yet, you don’t cherish it.”

 

Releasing him, Xi Yi left Xi Yu coughing violently. Through the coughing, Xi Yu retorted, “I don’t care!”

 

From childhood, he had been trapped in this identity. Every vibrant garment he wore was tied to this name.

 

It was as if, without being a deity, he wouldn’t be Xi Yu anymore.

 

And everything he did had to revolve around “being a deity”—”You need to read more to be a good deity!” “Eat more walnuts to boost your brain; deities are very smart!” “What are you playing for? Your only goal is to ascend as a deity, and then you can do whatever you want.”

 

But there were no deities in the world, and he could never be himself.

 

“I’ve told you, you have no choice. If you’re not a deity, you’ll only face death.” Xi Yi stood, looking down at him with disdain. A sinister smile suddenly appeared. “I really should have killed you when you were five years old. A child deity ascending to protect the nation—it would’ve sounded perfect. What a pity.”

 

Staring at the high beams of the room, Xi Yu asked from the depths of his heart, “Does the nation truly need deities to exist? Do people really need divine protection to live?”

 

Xi Yi paused, finding his words naive and laughable. “Xi Yu, everyone is human. Why should they trust you? How can you guarantee everyone will believe in you? And even if they do, how long can it last? The Xi Yu Kingdom has survived for a thousand years because of its firm belief in deities.

 

“Xi Yu, who do you think you are, to challenge millennia-old beliefs and foundations?”

 

Rarely did Xi Yi speak in a patient, almost instructive tone, though it was laced with sarcasm. “There’s an old saying: ‘Better to believe it exists than to believe it doesn’t.’ And, imperial brother, your defiance is truly amusing.”

 

“Like a cricket in a cage, jumping around frantically to avoid being touched.”

 

As Xi Yi turned and walked away, his voice grew more distant, yet it echoed endlessly, an irritating sound that lingered in the mind and couldn’t be shaken off:

 

“Xi Yu, prepare yourself. This is the only use you have left.”

 

—If you’re not a deity, you’ll only face death.

 

Has anyone ever seen a deity?

 

No.

 

So, his only path was death.

 

Xi Yu understood now.

 

He was a sacrifice.

 

He was a stepping stone.

 

He was to spend his life helping Xi Yi gradually consolidate his imperial power.

 

Xi Yu cried for a while. He didn’t particularly want to cry; the tears just fell uncontrollably, streaming from the corners of his eyes. He waited for them to stop.

 

After a while, he climbed off the ground, wiped his tears, and took a couple of deep breaths. The fresh air, carrying a coolness, filled his lungs, clearing his foggy mind. He retrieved the notebook and pen from under the table.

 

He wrote: Escape!

 

—Xi Yu, you must escape!

 

—Hang in there!

 

—Reward yourself with a candied hawthorn skewer if you succeed.

 

Speaking of candied hawthorn, Xi Yu’s mouth was bitter now, desperately needing something sweet. He grabbed a piece of rock candy from the offerings on the altar and popped it into his mouth.

 

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a small black wooden block. Xi Yu picked it up, looked at it, and sighed.

 

It was the wooden statue of Beishang Zunjun he had carved during his six-month confinement. After finishing it, he began talking to it every day, treating it like a trusted confidant.

 

Even though it couldn’t talk back.

 

Xi Yu turned it over in his hands and said, “Tomorrow, I’ll venture into the Divine Punishment Grounds and escape from here. Bless me with success, and from then on, I won’t worship you anymore. You’ll have the people to worship you. I don’t believe in gods anymore. I’m sorry. Let’s part ways.”

 

With that, Xi Yu casually tossed the wooden statue aside.

 

Clatter!

 

The wooden statue hit the ground and rolled a few times before disappearing into the darkness—disappearing from Xi Yu’s world as well.

 

In the unseen darkness, it glimmered with golden light, a flash that was gone in an instant.

 

—

 

Early the next morning, Xi Yu was hauled onto a cart by two burly men.

 

He was paraded through the streets.

 

Xi Yu waved enthusiastically to the onlookers, “Good morning, everyone!”

 

He felt no shame at all. For one, he had been alone for so long and craved interaction; for another, he was thrilled about his impending escape, so much so that he wanted to dance right then and there. After all, he was leaving soon—his reputation could stay behind, and he’d start fresh somewhere else.

 

Still, Xi Yu restrained himself.

 

Xi Yi was sharp, and anything too obvious would raise his suspicions. Xi Yu’s current behavior had already drawn several side glances from Xi Yi.

 

Xi Yu maintained his outward cheer, calling out, “Good morning!” “Good morning!” “Good morning!”

 

He figured Xi Yi was merely exhibiting his controlling nature, accustomed to watching him closely.

 

Xi Yu was attractive—a feast for the eyes. It was normal for someone to stare for a while.

 

As he outwardly greeted others, Xi Yu inwardly replayed the escape plan he had written the previous night.

 

Once inside the Divine Punishment Grounds, those burly men wouldn’t follow him—they had to avoid making it look like a royal sham. However, Xi Yi wouldn’t believe Xi Yu would obediently head to the designated area. Inside, there were undoubtedly people stationed to apprehend him almost immediately after he disappeared from public view.

 

If he reached their chosen spot, escape would be impossible. So, his only chance was to exploit any openings as soon as he entered.

 

The Divine Punishment Grounds had never seen such a large crowd before. Usually, the area within a mile radius was deserted, but now it was packed, with an atmosphere like an army poised to storm the place.

 

Apparently, people had come not only from the capital but also from surrounding villages to witness the spectacle.

 

“There’s the second prince. Yesterday, he said that god was fake, and now look, he’s being punished.”

 

“Careless words bring trouble.”

 

“Will he make it out alive?”

 

“Poor thing. I heard he’s only nine. If he loses a hand or a leg, will he even be able to marry?”

 

—

 

Before entering, Xi Yi performed a dramatic act as a heartbroken older brother reluctant to let go, tugging and pulling at Xi Yu for a long time before finally releasing him.

 

Xi Yu nearly threw up in his face.

 

With countless eyes on him, Xi Yu felt nervous for the first time.

 

What if they noticed?

 

What if something went wrong?

 

What if he got caught?

 

What if he lost a hand or a leg?

 

…

 

Amid the countless dreadful “what-ifs,” one thought shone through.

 

What if he succeeded?

 

The surroundings grew darker. Thankfully, Xi Yu’s time in the shrine had sharpened his vision, and he was unaffected. It felt just like the first time he had entered the shrine. The large door closed bit by bit.

 

No one would come to save him; he could only rely on himself.

 

Finally, he reached the turning point. Xi Yu spotted two burly men waiting in the darkness on the path ahead. They had clearly noticed him as well.

 

Their eyes met briefly, and the two men immediately got into position.

 

They were experienced—likely due to handling many escape attempts. They were clearly adept at catching people.

 

Xi Yu’s heart raced.

 

A fight to the end!

 

As soon as he stepped out of public view, two giant hands reached for him. Xi Yu immediately ducked. They were prepared, though, and a kick landed on his back with enough force to send him sprawling on the ground, unable to move.

 

This was when they’d typically let their guard down for a few seconds as they transitioned from knocking someone down to picking them up.

 

He had to bet on this.

 

Gritting his teeth, Xi Yu rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding a hand that grazed his ear.

 

“You little brat,” one of the men cursed.

 

If they found their rhythm and worked together, Xi Yu wouldn’t stand a chance. But each time he rolled, he crawled a bit forward.

 

On the last attempt, Xi Yu lay flat, then suddenly sprang up and ran forward with all his might.

 

A hand grabbed him.

 

One of the men laughed heartily, “Gotcha! Let’s see where you can run now, kid!”

 

But Xi Yu didn’t look back, leaving behind only a shout: “If you like my clothes, they’re yours. No need to thank me!”

 

“Damn it!”

 

The man cursed angrily as both pursued him again. A child couldn’t outrun adults for long. Soon, a hand brushed Xi Yu’s shoulder.

 

“Hahaha…”

 

Suddenly, Xi Yu changed direction and leaped into the Divine Punishment Grounds without hesitation.

 

It was a steep drop, ten feet down to a slope that led into pitch-black depths.

 

“All this over some tendons? Did he really have to throw his life away?”

 

—

 

Xi Yu didn’t know how long he rolled, how many trees he hit, or how many rocks bruised him. He didn’t even know how he eventually stopped.

 

Maybe he was dying.

 

In a state of semi-consciousness, he saw a strikingly beautiful face.

 

It felt oddly familiar.

 

But Xi Yu instinctively knew he was safe.

 

Struggling to stay awake, he asked, “Where am I?”

 

The figure replied, “The Divine Punishment Grounds.”

 

Xi Yu exhaled, “I made it out.”

 

The figure dampened his triumph. “No.”

 

Knowing Xi Yu’s dazed state, the figure spoke slowly and emphasized each word: “Xi Yu, you’ve only run far. You haven’t escaped.”

 

“Will I die?”

 

“No.”

 

Xi Yu felt his body relax as though every organ was sinking gently like falling leaves. He felt calm but unwilling. “I hate this.”

 

The figure nodded, “It’s hateful.”

 

Xi Yu’s later words came with closed eyes. The figure was strange—so strange that the usual Xi Yu would have interrogated him thoroughly. But now, Xi Yu lacked the strength and wasn’t in the mood. He felt empty.

 

Without thinking, he weakly moved his arms and said, “Hug me.”

 

There was no response.

 

Disheartened, Xi Yu dropped his arms. “So annoying. You can’t even offer comfort.”

 

Just then, Xi Yu was enveloped in a warm embrace. It wasn’t fleeting but careful and constant, wrapping around him completely.

 

A smile graced Xi Yu’s childish face as a tear slid down his cheek.

 

His tone was that of a child pretending to sulk after being appeased.

 

“Do you know the last time someone hugged me? I remember it clearly—three years ago, when I had a high fever, and a guard carried me to the clinic.”

 

“Are you a god?”

 

“Where did you come from?”

 

…