In Order To Ascend, I Became A Modern Wage Slave - Chapter 48: Xun Yu Part 4

Chapter 48: Xun Yu Part 4

 

Although he knew the elder’s intention was to drive him away, Lian Bei stubbornly regarded leaving the mountain as his own training and began wandering around, saving people from peril.

 

He had saved no less than a hundred people. At this rate, within ten years, Lian Bei would surely accumulate enough mortal merit to successfully ascend. However, Xi Yu soon noticed something unusual: after saving someone, Lian Bei never revealed his name.

 

He would turn away, hands behind his back, and conceal his achievements and identity.

 

Apart from his inherently humble and uncompetitive nature, there was another significant reason behind Lian Bei’s actions: the stories about immortals ascending before achieving fame in the mortal world.

 

But ordinary people are different from those who were already renowned.

 

Take Xi Yu, for instance. If he tried to secretly do good deeds, he might keep a low profile initially, but his identity would soon be exposed, and the credit would still end up attributed to him.

 

From this perspective, Lian Bei’s chance of ascending was very slim.

 

He lacked potential and had no prior achievements. So, what kind of sudden change allowed him to ascend in such a short time?

 

The journey out of the Divine Punishment Grounds was not as smooth as imagined. Before long, Wan Xiang cried out in alarm, “My sister is missing!”

 

He had only let go of her hand for a moment, but his sister had vanished, leaving Wan Xiang on the verge of tears.

 

Lian Bei glanced back. Seeing no trace of anyone around, he guessed she had been missing for a while. Thinking it over, he realized their journey so far had been fraught with challenges. If the three of them returned to search for her, there might be further accidents, or worse, someone else could go missing along the way.

 

Luckily, there was a cave ahead. Lian Bei decided to leave marks there, settle them in the cave, and go search for the girl himself.

 

Before leaving, he instructed young Xi Yu, “Stay here and don’t wander off.”

 

Obediently, young Xi Yu nodded.

 

Shortly after Lian Bei left, Wan Xiang, who had cried himself to sleep, slumped against Xi Yu. Exhausted from their long journey, Xi Yu struggled to stay awake, but eventually, he succumbed to sleep as well.

 

The moment he fell asleep, Xi Yu’s vision turned black, and when he reopened his eyes, he found himself with a physical body. Looking around, he caught sight of Lian Bei and immediately called out, running toward him.

 

“Why are you here?” Lian Bei asked, suspicion in his eyes.

 

Xi Yu waved dismissively. “If I said I accidentally stumbled in and happened to meet you, would you believe me?”

 

Of course, Lian Bei didn’t believe him. But it didn’t really matter. Aside from his mysterious comings and goings, Xi Yu posed no threat. Knowing Lian Bei’s cautious nature, Xi Yu was certain he wouldn’t act rashly without absolute certainty.

 

The Divine Punishment Grounds were devoid of life, and the most terrifying thing there wasn’t the terrain—it was the quicksand. Concealed under layers of fallen leaves, these treacherous spots would swallow anyone who stepped into them.

 

On his way earlier, Lian Bei had been lucky to avoid them.

 

Xi Yu, aware of the dangers, wasn’t about to rely on luck. Using a stick to probe the ground ahead, they moved cautiously. Eventually, they found the missing girl, half-swallowed by a quicksand pit, crying loudly.

 

When Lian Bei was about to approach, Xi Yu stopped him. “Are you planning to join her down there?”

 

Picking up a longer stick, Xi Yu extended it toward the girl. “Wan Yuan, grab this! I’ll pull you out!”

 

But the stick wasn’t strong enough to bear the pull. As soon as the girl was lifted slightly, it snapped.

 

Could her fate in this story be death after all?

 

In such tales, there’s often someone whose death serves to awaken the protagonist to certain truths.

 

But Xi Yu couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t that simple. The girl had been following them closely, so why did she vanish the moment he let his guard down? And why did she end up in quicksand?

 

It was too coincidental.

 

Xi Yu speculated that a book spirit was manipulating events from behind the scenes.

 

After pondering for a moment, Xi Yu made a bold decision. He instructed Lian Bei to step back and then took a step into the quicksand himself.

 

He had barely moved forward when Lian Bei grabbed his arm.

 

A flicker of worry flashed through Lian Bei’s eyes—something not typically shown toward someone he’d only recently met.

 

In the blink of an eye, that concern was gone, replaced by sternness.

 

Smiling, Xi Yu said, “Relax. You can’t enter this, but I’ll be fine. Let go.”

 

Repeating himself, Xi Yu finally persuaded Lian Bei to release him.

 

With difficulty, Xi Yu moved toward the girl. Each step sunk him deeper, but he was tall enough to manage. The girl wasn’t far away, either.

 

Like pulling a carrot, Xi Yu hauled the girl out.

 

The suction of the quicksand was intense. By the time Xi Yu succeeded, his entire leg had been swallowed.

 

“Lian Bei,” he called, forgetting to switch to a different term of address. Fortunately, Lian Bei seemed to know Xi Yu was calling him. “I’ll toss her to you. Catch!”

 

Xi Yu himself couldn’t escape and was sinking fast.

 

When Lian Bei moved to help, Xi Yu shouted at him to stay back. “Go back and wake the other two kids!”

 

Xi Yu could only hope young Xi Yu would wake up quickly and free him from his predicament.

 

Lian Bei trusted Xi Yu and retraced their marked path with Wan Yuan. Just as Xi Yu’s face submerged in the quicksand, he heard someone anxiously shout his name.

 

Xi Yu wasn’t afraid of death; he’d died many times before.

 

What he feared was the suffocating pain of the process.

 

Drawing in a sharp breath, Xi Yu opened his eyes to find a large hand pressed against his forehead. Sitting up, he asked, “Did you remember?”

 

“Remember what?” Lian Bei replied.

 

It seemed that shout had been his imagination.

 

He was back in his childhood body.

 

They were riding on a cart pulled by an ox, piled high with straw, just the two of them. “Where are Wan Xiang and Wan Yuan?”

 

“They went home. I’m taking you back now,” Lian Bei said.

 

“You know where my home is?” Xi Yu asked.

 

“I don’t, but judging by your clothes, you’re from the south. Coincidentally, I plan to head south soon. We’ll travel together until you find something familiar,” Lian Bei explained.

 

—My home is in the royal city.

 

Xi Yu tried to say this, but the words wouldn’t come out. Young Xi Yu had likely forgotten his identity.

 

Xi Yu suddenly remembered something. At five years old, after returning from a northern sacrificial trip with his father and elder brother, he had fallen severely ill and awoken with no memory of most things.

 

“What are you going to the south for?” Xi Yu asked.

 

“Training,” Lian Bei replied honestly, not dismissing him just because he was a child.

 

“Training?” Xi Yu echoed. “Is it like what those storybooks say, about immortals ascending after training? Do you want to be an immortal? But there’s no such thing as immortals in this world.”

 

“If you believe in it, then there is,” Lian Bei said seriously.

 

“Will you become one?” Xi Yu asked.

 

“One day, I will. But it might take a long time—I lack the talent for it,” Lian Bei replied, lowering his gaze.

 

They traveled through more than ten villages. Xi Yu could feel his body gradually warming to Lian Bei, moving from initial wariness to eventual dependence.

 

One evening, sitting in the backyard of an inn, Xi Yu gazed up at the starry sky.

 

He thought he had figured out what the book spirit had changed.

 

By this time, the sacrificial rites were over, and his father and brother were likely already on their way back. Xi Yu should have been with them, riding in their carriage.

 

But now, he was here, traveling with Lian Bei. While this wasn’t bad—it was far freer than life in the royal city—what would it lead to if it continued?

 

Xi Yu wasn’t sure.

 

—I am Xi Yu, the second prince of Xiyu Kingdom.

 

He practiced this sentence daily, hoping for the chance to finally say it out loud.

 

Before long, an incredibly coincidental event occurred. At their next stop, they happened to cross paths with his father’s party, who were resting in the village.

 

Xi Yu tried several times to sneak away and approach his father. If his father recognized him, he could return to his rightful place.

 

But each time, he found himself tethered to Lian Bei. Moving even a step away caused sharp chest pains. The farther he went, the more intense the pain became, until he collapsed, unable to take another step. After a few attempts, Lian Bei began to see him as frail and sickly.

 

Then came a turning point: his father was ambushed and killed in the nearby mountains.

 

The entire village was abuzz with rumors, soldiers running back and forth, searching for the king.

 

Xi Yu guessed his elder brother Xi Yi must have decided to eliminate their father to secure the throne under the guise of divine will.

 

Of course, Lian Bei wouldn’t stand idly by. Without telling anyone, he ventured alone to the scene of the ambush.

 

That night, as Xi Yu slept in his bed, his spirit floated out, wandering once again.

 

Lian Bei found the unconscious king under a tree and carried him on his back. He had barely taken a few steps when the sound of an arrow cutting through the air reached them.

 

Xi Yu recognized it instantly—Xi Yi’s ambushers.

 

Circling above, Xi Yu saw the black-clad assassins hiding in the shadows, watching Lian Bei’s every move.

 

Despite his lack of talent, Lian Bei wasn’t helpless. But with the unconscious king on his back, the assassins had to be careful not to harm their target. Lian Bei dodged their arrows with ease, eventually escaping.

 

He carried the king back to their inn, where two guards on duty quickly took over, thanking him profusely.

 

The next day, Xi Yi led his soldiers to surround Lian Bei’s residence, accusing him of the king’s disappearance. Having his plan thwarted, Xi Yi wouldn’t let Lian Bei off so easily. He ordered Lian Bei’s arrest.

 

At that moment, Xi Yu rubbed his eyes and walked out of the house. “Why is it so noisy outside?”

 

“Second Prince?”

 

Xi Yi probably didn’t expect that Lian Bei always kept Xi Yu by his side.

 

Now, another crime was added to Lian Bei’s name—kidnapping a prince.

 

Xi Yu was completely unprepared and helpless. He watched as Lian Bei died on a snowy winter day.

 

It seemed… they had failed.

 

A tear slipped from the corner of Xi Yu’s eye.

 

After returning, he fell ill with a fever. In his dreams, scenes of his time with Lian Bei flashed by, now with many small details added.

 

In his dream, he was always aware that he was the Second Prince of Xiyu Kingdom, the so-called Heaven’s Chosen Child of legend. But he was also deceived by his royal brother and sent to the sacrificial altar. Lian Bei appeared out of nowhere, choosing him from among a hundred people and rescuing him.

 

Perhaps it was destiny.

 

He remained unconscious for a long time. When he woke up, his father had already departed, and Lian Bei was taking him to catch up with the group.

 

At that time, Xi Yu talked to Lian Bei about life in the royal city and even tried to persuade him not to send him back. “If I return, it’s just more eating, drinking, and playing. Why not take me with you to explore the world?”

 

Lian Bei asked, “With your talent, why don’t you study?”

 

Xi Yu, who had intentionally been a poor student, countered, “Then why do you study when you have no talent?”

 

“Because I want to!”

 

Xi Yu replied nonchalantly, “Then my answer is simple too—because I don’t want to!”

 

Lian Bei successfully sent Xi Yu back. Sitting in the carriage, Xi Yu waved goodbye and, as he lowered the curtain, suddenly realized he had never asked for Lian Bei’s name.

 

——When I was eighteen, I was struck by a heavenly lightning bolt. But my cultivation was insufficient, and my merits incomplete, so I failed to ascend.

 

——I thought that would be the end of me.

 

Xi Yi reprimanded Xi Yu for his recklessness and playful behavior. As soon as Xi Yu returned to the royal city, he was punished by being made to kneel in the temple. Bored out of his mind after kneeling through half the night, he snuck into the kitchen, grabbed a piece of wood, and stole a carving knife. Mimicking the deities on the altar, he began carving.

 

When he finished, he pulled out a notebook hidden under the table, tore out a page, and wrote carefully.

 

“I’ll write you a story of life before ascension and give you a title, a rank, something super invincible and majestic like Supreme Celestial King.”

 

“In the north, you’ll be called the Northern Supreme Lord.”

 

“What’s your name? I’ll give you one. In the north, a lone figure—let’s call you Shan Bei.”

 

“Alright then. Since you’re so keen on becoming an immortal, from now on, in my eyes, you’re a deity who watches over me alone.”

 

Perhaps the creative effort drained his energy. Not long after, Xi Yu fell seriously ill and forgot much of what had happened, including the origins of the Northern Supreme Lord and the note hidden inside the wooden deity.

 

One day, Xi Yi found the deity Xi Yu had discarded in the temple and pulled out the note inside.

 

“Shan Bei? Northern Supreme Lord?” He curled his lips into a smile. “How utterly naive.”