In Order To Ascend, I Became A Modern Wage Slave - Chapter 36: Elemental True Monarch 9

Chapter 36: Elemental True Monarch 9

 

As soon as Xi Yu stepped out the door, he ran into a familiar face—Elemental.

 

He was here looking for Chen Zhidao.

 

Elemental, looking somewhat anxious, said, “If we don’t save him soon, his Yang energy will be completely depleted.”

 

Once it’s gone, he’ll truly become a walking corpse.

 

Even if he could catch up now, there wouldn’t be a suitable moment to act; Chen Zhidao would surely be surrounded by people. Xi Yu came up with a plan for him: “You could transfer the healing power to me. When I see him, I can help you treat him.”

 

To his surprise, Elemental looked a bit awkward. “I don’t have any power,” he said. Facing Xi Yu’s puzzled look, he explained, “I heal people using the power I borrow from my brother. I can use it myself, but I can’t transfer it to you.”

 

Xi Yu said, “Then he must already know you’re here.”

 

Elemental nodded. “I hope you can stop him quickly. Maybe you can check the back mountain.”

 

Since they had run into each other halfway, there was no need to go after Chen Zhidao anymore. Xi Yu returned directly to the hotel. He was curious why Chen Zhidao was courting death and how he had managed to get himself into such a state. Lian Bei pulled up two videos online.

 

Handing the phone to Xi Yu, he said, “This is him.”

 

“Guys, today is Ghost Festival. Let’s do a challenge to communicate with ghosts.”

 

In the video, Chen Zhidao sat in the middle of a circle of strange symbols. Lian Bei held Xi Yu’s hand, maneuvering the phone to zoom in and rotate the screen for a clearer view.

 

It was indeed a summoning ritual.

 

Chen Zhidao sat in the middle of the room, lights off, leaving only the faint glow of his phone screen. He closed his eyes and chanted, “Ghosts, come, ghosts, come, chat with me!”

 

The next second, the sound of high heels clicking echoed through the screen.

 

The outline of a curly-haired woman gradually appeared.

 

Xi Yu commented, “A rich beauty.”

 

The “rich beauty” spoke in a tone that wasn’t particularly friendly, sounding annoyed: “What’s wrong with you? On Ghost Festival of all days, you’re courting death? Aren’t you afraid of running into an evil spirit that could tear you apart? I only get a few days off a year, and now I have to work overtime watching you.”

 

To the ordinary viewer, all they could see and hear was Chen Zhidao sitting quietly in the center, his breathing barely audible.

 

The live chat was flooded with comments.

 

[Bro, turn around! I swear I saw a woman behind you!]

 

[Stop doing this stuff; I feel like your mental state is getting worse and worse!]

 

…

 

After watching a few videos, Xi Yu understood why Chen Zhidao had ended up in his current state.

 

The last video showed his usual conclusion: “Challenge successful. Everyone, superstition is not to be believed. See you tomorrow at the same time!”

 

Chen Zhidao was active on the internet. With a bit of effort, most of his information was easy to find.

 

Twenty-seven years old, a paranormal livestreamer, known for debunking various superstitions through practical experiments. Although his challenges appeared terrifying, they were, in reality, quite mundane and far from thrilling.

 

Xi Yu asked, “Why are ghosts protecting him?”

 

In the videos, the ghosts varied—sometimes the rich beauty, sometimes someone named Mo Daier, and occasionally unfamiliar faces. Their protection had allowed Chen Zhidao to get this far, though at the cost of some of his Yang energy.

 

Lian Bei explained, “His ancestors are involved. He’s the only child of his lineage. To protect him, his ancestors have been bowing so much in the afterlife that their heads are practically worn out. They’ve been lending him a hand wherever they can.”

 

That explanation was indeed amusing.

 

Chen Zhidao always announced his plans in advance on social media. The next morning, he posted that he would be night hiking on a remote mountain.

 

It was the very back mountain Elemental had mentioned.

 

The Land of the Medicine God was located at the foot of the mountain, surrounded by three peaks. These mountains had never been developed. Villagers only ventured into the lower regions to gather firewood. They spoke of ominous things in the mountains. Those who went too far often got lost and never returned.

 

Chen Zhidao must have gotten wind of these tales and planned to use others’ misfortune as his content.

 

Xi Yu wasn’t in a hurry to go. He planned to follow closely behind when the time came.

 

He spent the day with Lian Bei and received a call from Luo Yang in the evening. Luo Yang said his illness was cured and that he was on his way. He also heard that Xiao Mingqiang had arrived and specifically sought out Yang Xue’s new residence. Yang Xue was so frightened that she immediately left for a trip out of town.

 

Xi Yu remarked, “Xiao Mingqiang is likely here to bow at Yuan Zhen Temple.”

 

Did he learn that from Xi Yi?

 

Laying traps everywhere.

 

Other people were harder to control, or their plans had been disrupted by Xi Yu, but Xiao Mingqiang—a discarded pawn of the Love Immortal Lord—was the most likely to submit to him and stand against them.

 

The next night.

 

By then, Chen Zhidao had already reached halfway up the mountain.

 

Though this mountain wasn’t as tall as Luonan Mountain or Huaxi Mountain, it still took three to four hours to reach the midpoint. Moreover, the mountain was undeveloped, with no paths. Chen Zhidao moved quickly and aimlessly, making it hard to catch up with him.

 

“…Tonight is a night hike up the mountain. This mountain has not been developed. Everyone, let’s start today’s adventure together!”

 

“Thank you for joining the livestream. Tonight is a night hike up the mountain. This mountain has not been developed. Everyone…”

 

…

 

Chen Zhidao wasn’t even looking at the screen today, nor was his face visible. He kept repeating the same lines between gasping breaths, utterly exhausted.

 

Due to the previous misunderstanding, the number of viewers in the livestream skyrocketed. Fortunately, he wasn’t watching, as more than half of the comments below were scolding him.

 

Lian Bei said a bunch of things Xi Yu didn’t quite understand. Xi Yu nodded and nodded again, finally coming to the conclusion: he’s poor, and he’s doing this for money.

 

Xi Yu asked, “How does he make money from this?”

 

Lian Bei demonstrated, saying, “Through tips.”

 

Xi Yu understood and nodded, saying, “Then give him a big tip.”

 

Lian Bei tapped a few times on the phone before handing it to Xi Yu. Following Lian Bei’s demonstration, Xi Yu imitated his movements and tapped a few times. Suddenly, he remembered something, looked up, and asked, “If you’re the top tipper, you can make requests, right? How much do I need to tip?”

 

“No matter how much, you can’t surpass him,” Lian Bei said, pointing to the abstract profile picture next to the number of words in the upper right corner. “Luo Yang.”

 

Xi Yu asked, “How much did he spend?”

 

Lian Bei replied, “Not sure, but it’s a lot—maybe ten or twenty thousand?”

 

Yesterday, Luo Yang had just been told about Chen Zhidao, and today he had already secured the unshakable position of the top tipper in the livestream.

 

By midnight, the two of them had almost caught up to Chen Zhidao.

 

Xi Yu wasn’t sure how Lian Bei determined their direction, but he felt it should be reliable—mainly because he trusted Lian Bei unconditionally, knowing he himself was even less reliable. If he were the one navigating, they might have ended up on the wrong mountain entirely.

 

Meanwhile, on the livestream, Chen Zhidao could no longer move. He found a large tree to lean against and sat down. He turned the camera around, and Xi Yu finally saw his face.

 

Exhaustion so deep it couldn’t be hidden, not even by his forced smile.

 

Even a papier-mâché figure’s expression would look more lively than his.

 

“Apologies for yesterday’s mishap—I didn’t coordinate with them in advance. I’ve already paid the fine and signed a pledge.”

 

“Tonight’s location is a real undeveloped wilderness. No tricks. I’ll turn the camera around to show you.”

 

As Chen Zhidao spoke, he shakily got up and began to turn in circles, proving that his surroundings were indeed an authentic, untouched forest.

 

Then, a shadow appeared on the screen.

 

In a blink, it disappeared again.

 

Chen Zhidao’s movement with the camera froze. He hesitated for a moment, then cautiously peeked around and began to slowly approach where the shadow had been.

 

Past a dense grove of trees was a comparatively open space, at the center of which stood a massive, ancient tree with lush foliage.

 

“A locust tree?”

 

“An ancient locust tree?”

 

“It looks pretty old.”

 

The ancient locust tree seemed to be nearly a thousand years old, with a trunk so thick it would take several people to wrap their arms around it.

 

It bore a striking resemblance to the ones found in public squares.

 

Chen Zhidao slowly approached.

 

The moonlight was bright and clear, the gentle breeze soothing, the scent of the locust tree faintly fragrant, and the chirping of insects pleasant to the ear—all of which combined to form a strangely beautiful scene.

 

“Hello? Is anyone there?” Chen Zhidao called out tentatively.

 

Only the sound of the wind answered him.

 

The earlier appearance of the shadow had brought a surge of viewers to his livestream. However, as soon as he sat down, the number of viewers began to dwindle again. To keep them engaged, Chen Zhidao said, “That shadow earlier might’ve been a ghost. Since that’s the case, I’ll try the summoning ritual from last time!”

 

He adjusted the phone’s position.

 

On screen, he quickly pulled out paper and pen from his backpack and skillfully drew a summoning talisman, which he then affixed to the locust tree.

 

All done!

 

But it seemed no one was buying it.

 

He glanced at the phone screen.

 

“No production team.”

 

“The money I make isn’t enough to feed myself, let alone hire others.”

 

“Thanks…”

 

As he spoke, the soreness in his body surged. He stopped looking at the screen, leaned back against the tree with his eyes half-closed, and spoke lazily, almost weakly.

 

“All right, that’s it for today’s livestream. It’s getting late. Everyone, go to bed.”

 

“My phone still has 6% battery. Once it dies, the stream will end.”

 

With that, he tilted his head back and stopped moving, as if he had fallen asleep.

 

…

 

[Livestream ended]

[Total viewers: 1000+]

 

…

 

By the time Xi Yu and Lian Bei arrived at the locust tree, Chen Zhidao was long gone. All they found was a patch of grass flattened where he had been sitting, confirming they were in the right place—Chen Zhidao had indeed been there.

 

Xi Yu took a few steps back, looked up, and carefully examined the tree.

 

Along the way, they had only seen cypresses and honeysuckle trees, but this ancient locust tree stood alone.

 

Perhaps there would be more further up the mountain, but that didn’t matter. What stood out was that, unlike the other trees that grew haphazardly, this locust tree had a three-zhang radius around it, entirely bare.

 

It was special, meaning it was certainly unusual.

 

At this moment, Lian Bei said, “It has two main trunks.”

 

It was indeed a genuine ancient locust tree. However, starting from its visible base, the two trunks intertwined and merged until about Xi Yu’s height, where they finally separated completely, branching off in opposite directions.

 

Born together, diverging paths.

 

Xi Yu asked, “Did you clearly see what that shadow looked like earlier?”

 

The two of them almost spoke in unison, “Elemental True Monarch.”

 

But they couldn’t be sure whether it was Elemental(Yuan Su) or Yuan Xu.