In Order To Ascend, I Became A Modern Wage Slave - Chapter 23: Xi Yu (3)

Chapter 23: Xi Yu 3

 

The king dispatched nearly thirty people to finally locate Xi Yu.

 

Yes, the king.

 

In the few days of Xi Yu’s absence, Xi Yi successfully ascended the throne, held the coronation ceremony, and replaced the main deity of worship. The statue of Beishang Zunjun was now placed at the very center of the bustling Hundred Gods Temple.

 

Of course, there was also a special hall nearby solely dedicated to Xi Yu.

 

The Second Prince, after being punished by divine retribution, remained intact physically, with all his limbs still present. However, his body was covered in wounds, and he lay unconscious.

 

The news of Xi Yu’s return stirred much discussion among the people.

 

“Did they check under his clothes? How do you know he’s not missing something?”

 

“Others usually lose a hand or a leg; what happened with the Second Prince? Was Beishang Zunjun so furious that he came down personally with a whip to strike him?”

 

“Are you crazy? He obviously got those injuries from falling himself.”

 

“By the way, did you hear? When they found Xi Yu, they discovered a note on him that read, ‘May you be safe.’ It was left by Beishang Zunjun!”

 

“What? Beishang Zunjun left a note for him? What kind of relationship do they have?”

 

“What else? A god and another god—of course, they’re good friends!”

 

“The Second Prince really is extraordinary.”

 

…

 

These were rumors deliberately spread by Xi Yi to manipulate public opinion. He knew perfectly well what people wanted to hear.

 

Some things, regardless of their truth, become real once they’re believed.

 

When dealing with people, you have to smooth their fur; otherwise, you risk being bitten.

 

Initially, Xi Yi had almost written off Xi Yu as a lost cause. Unexpectedly, through a twist of fate, this discarded piece had come back to life!

 

Now all that was left was to wait, occasionally releasing tidbits of news about him. The people, like starving dogs finally getting a bone, would obsessively lap it up.

 

As for Xi Yu…

 

Xi Yi smirked. He was already planning for Xi Yu’s ascension!

 

Everything depends on effort, doesn’t it?

 

—

 

“Dear brother, you truly surprise me. How did it feel to escape? Thrilling?”

 

Although things were heading in a favorable direction, this didn’t mean Xi Yu was exempt from punishment. On the contrary, the punishment had to be even more severe.

 

Xi Yu had been unconscious for three days before waking up. His body was riddled with wounds that hadn’t yet healed, and every movement sent waves of pain through him as if his entire nervous system was being pulled apart. It hurt so much that he wished for death, so unless absolutely necessary, he didn’t move at all. Lying there and staring at the ceiling, he thought to himself: Not bad, at least I don’t have to see Xi Yi’s disgusting face.

 

On the third day, he woke up. On the fifth day, Xi Yi ordered the cessation of all medication. Xi Yu’s skin burned with pain as if it were on fire. On the seventh day, treatment resumed—only to stop the next day.

 

Over and over, the cycle repeated. Xi Yu lay bedridden for nearly two months before he could finally walk again, though only within his room, as he had been placed under house arrest for five months.

 

Not only that, but Xi Yi decreed that Xi Yu could not leave the royal city without his permission.

 

Moreover, all the palace servants in Xi Yu’s household were dismissed by Xi Yi’s orders.

 

In the vast palace, Xi Yu was utterly alone.

 

Completely and entirely alone, without a single person to talk to.

 

As for Xi Yu’s mother, Xi Yi played both sides, forcing her to travel to a distant temple to copy scriptures in atonement for Xi Yu’s sins.

 

Xi Yu entertained himself—lying on the bed, rolling on the ground, brewing tea at the small table, tidying up his room…

 

After a flurry of activity, he leaned against the doorframe, silently observing everything within the room. It was so quiet he could only hear the sound of his own breathing.

 

Suddenly, he couldn’t hold it in anymore and roared in frustration.

 

“Damn it.”

 

“Damn your mother.”

 

“Damn your mother, you bastard Xi Yi.”

 

“You’ll die a terrible death.”

 

…

 

From a young age, Xi Yu’s behavior had been meticulously regulated: no talking while eating, no sticking chopsticks into rice, no late nights, and mandatory early rising… Now that he thought about it, this was probably the first time he had ever cursed.

 

Feels damn good!

 

Unfortunately, he only knew those two phrases. Repeating them too much, he quickly lost interest.

 

—

 

Time passed in this dull routine until a turning point finally came.

 

To maintain appearances and demonstrate to outsiders: Look! The royal family is earnestly educating Xi Yu!

 

Xi Yi arranged for a tutor to accompany Xi Yu.

 

Xi Yi was quite satisfied with the tutor—because he was very attractive.

 

Xi Yi’s stereotype was that good-looking people were usually empty-headed, incapable of teaching Xi Yu anything of substance.

 

Moreover, he had thoroughly investigated this tutor.

 

Dead father, dead mother, dead friends—every single person connected to him was dead. Relatives, acquaintances, all gone. He was completely alone.

 

Such a person was the easiest to control.

 

Good-looking, stupid, tight-lipped…

 

Having eliminated almost every potential risk factor, Xi Yi felt confident bringing the tutor to Xi Yu’s residence to live with him.

 

But to his surprise, instead of being grateful for the company, Xi Yu rejected the idea entirely.

 

He wouldn’t even open the door, leaning against it and sullenly saying, “I don’t want to study. Take your useless tutor and get lost!”

 

Xi Yi’s face instantly darkened. “Xi Yu, have I been too lenient with you lately? Where did you learn to speak like this?”

 

Xi Yu stood his ground, his defiance stoking Xi Yi’s rage. However, in front of others, Xi Yi had to maintain his image as a gentle and refined elder brother.

 

Finally, Xi Yi told the tutor, “You wait by the pavilion over there for now.”

 

Some people may look like gentle and kind brothers on the surface, but in truth, they are nothing more than beasts in disguise. Xi Yi only knew one way to discipline someone.

 

Beat them.

 

If beating doesn’t work, beat them to the brink of death.

 

When someone is hanging by a thread, they’ll cling to life with all their might.

 

After giving instructions to the tutor, Xi Yi stormed off, still seething with residual anger.

 

Xi Yu lay on the ground, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. Hearing someone enter, he coldly said, “I don’t need to learn anything. If you’re smart, stay out of my way. Live in the room next door, and we won’t bother each other.”

 

The approaching footsteps didn’t stop.

 

Xi Yu thought to himself, This person is truly insensible, his tone carrying a sharper edge: “Can’t you understand human speech? If you keep this up, don’t blame me for being rude.”

 

The person stopped in front of him, their tone complicated. “In your state, how can you still put on airs and threaten people?”

 

Xi Yu snapped back, “None of your business!”

 

Saying so, he placed his hand on the ground, trying to push himself up. He wanted to see who this so-called tutor was—most likely one of Xi Yi’s trusted confidants. However, as his hand touched the floor, his right shoulder collapsed under him, and he fell clumsily back down.

 

Xi Yi had broken his arm.

 

The person spoke gently again: “Do you need me to help you up?”

 

“I told you to leave me alone!”

 

The person crouched down and said earnestly, “Let me guess. Did he tell you that your thoughts are meaningless, and the only purpose of your life is to follow the path he has set for you?”

 

He heard that?

 

Xi Yu froze.

 

“Let me guess again. You refuse to study because you don’t want to walk that path. This is your way of rebelling.”

 

The person called his name seriously and said, “Xi Yu, your rebellion is meaningless. He won’t change the path for you just because of it. Every time you resist, it will only end in your compromise. The more you experience failure, the more it will lead to your eventual collapse.”

 

Xi Yu struggled to lift himself, trying to get a good look at this person.

 

The person’s tone carried a hint of reproach. “Xi Yu, you’re being very foolish.”

 

Indeed, he was being foolish. What was the point? The only satisfaction he got was seeing Xi Yi’s enraged face.

 

When you loathe someone, you’d rather suffer yourself than see them smile.

 

But in the long run, he would only end up utterly defeated.

 

Compromise for now. Wait until the day you can stand tall, then escape—run as far away as you can. When he sees the long legs he cultivated sprinting off, how furious will he be?

 

Without his stepping stone, would he take a tumble?

 

Hopefully, he’d fall so hard he’d never get up again.

 

Supporting himself with just one hand was too difficult. Xi Yu gave up and exhaled, “Fine, could you help me up?”

 

The tutor helped him back onto the bed and left for a moment, returning with bandages and medicine. They first treated Xi Yu’s wounds and then carefully wrapped his broken arm.

 

Throughout the process, Xi Yu kept staring at the tutor’s face. Once the tutor tied the final knot, they looked up pleasantly and asked, “What’s wrong?”

 

Xi Yu didn’t hold back. “I’ve seen you before, half a year ago in a teahouse.”

 

The tutor’s eyes crinkled with amusement. “Really? I’ve only been to a teahouse once.”

 

Xi Yu said, “Do you remember me? I was the storyteller on stage that day.”

 

The tutor shook their head. “I’m not very good at recognizing faces.”

 

“I see,” Xi Yu said, somewhat regretful. Pointing to himself, he added, “Then look closely and remember what I look like. Don’t mistake me in the future.”

 

The tutor nodded. “Alright.”

 

“What’s your name?” Xi Yu asked.

 

“I’m Shan Bei.”

 

Xi Yu repeated the name to himself a few times, finding it faintly familiar but unable to place it. He asked, “Your father’s surname is Shan, and your family is from the north?”

 

Shan Bei shook his head, then nodded. “The family is indeed from the north, but this name, I chose for myself.”

 

“You chose it yourself?” Xi Yu smacked his lips, sensing something amiss. “Why ‘Shan’?”

 

Shan Bei explained, “I have no father, no mother, and no friends. Everyone connected to me is gone, leaving only me. Alone—hence ‘Shan.’”

 

Xi Yu, known for his lively imagination, quickly picked up on the implication. After hearing the explanation, he pointed at himself, then at Shan Bei. “Then now you can change your name to ‘Two Bei,’ since there are two of us now. Hmm, no, that doesn’t sound good. Since we’re relying on each other, heart to heart, you could go by ‘Lian Bei.’”

 

Of course, it was just a suggestion, a joke. Nobody would take it seriously.

 

“What do you plan to teach me?” Xi Yu asked.

 

Shan Bei replied, “I was going to start with basic skills, but since your arm is broken, we’ll stick to things that don’t require hands for now.”

 

Xi Yu silently went through possibilities—piano, chess, calligraphy, painting—don’t they all require hands?

 

Before he could ask, Shan Bei clarified, “I brought over a hundred books. Your arm will need about two or three months to heal. During this time, you can read and memorize all the books I brought.”

 

“How many?” Xi Yu asked incredulously. “How many did you say?”

 

“Exactly 156.”

 

“And how long?”

 

“Let’s say two books a day; that’s seventy-eight days.”

 

“Read?”

 

“And memorize.”

 

“Memorize how much?”

 

“All of it.”

 

Hearing those two words, Xi Yu nearly fainted, clutching at his temple. Moments ago, he was praising how kind this tutor was; the next moment, they weren’t even treating him like a human. “Slap, slap”–two metaphorical slaps landed squarely on Xi Yu’s face.

 

The more thrilled he’d been earlier, the deeper his resentment now. “You think I’m some kind of printing press?”

 

—

 

Complaints were inevitable, but learning was mandatory.

 

Every morning, Xi Yu would wake to books and go to sleep with a head full of swirling, chaotic text.

 

He wanted to die but couldn’t.

 

He wanted to live but found it unbearable.

 

Three months later, his arm healed, and he emerged from the sea of books to start sword training. He excelled, mastering every move after a single demonstration. Each gesture was clean and precise, showing exceptional talent.

 

In fact, he had a talent for memorization, too. Occasionally, after finishing two books in a day, he could even chat with Shan Bei. But reading brought him no joy—only speed and suffering.

 

The day Xi Yu learned swordsmanship, he was stunned. He had never seen anyone ride a sword and fly before. He’d heard of it but assumed it was a myth.

 

Shan Bei said, “The world is vast. There are always greater people and higher heavens. You may never leave your world, but you must accept that other possibilities exist.”

 

At fifteen, Xi Yu secretly sneaked out of the palace with Shan Bei.

 

He had grown rapidly, his height rising from Shan Bei’s waist to his chin. Along the way, he kept gesturing. “In two years, I’ll be taller than you.”

 

Five years later, Shan Bei’s appearance had hardly changed. Xi Yu casually slung an arm around his shoulder and pointed to a vendor. “Buy me one of those candied hawthorns!”

 

The moment the words left his mouth, someone flipped over the vendor’s stand. The rack of skewers crashed to the ground, and the hawthorns scattered, crushed under the bustling crowd.

 

The offender arrogantly declared, “Don’t you know our Zhi Yi True Lord hates candied hawthorns the most?”

 

Zhi Yi True Lord?

 

Xi Yu turned to glance at Shan Bei.