Chapter 74

Chapter 74

"You!" Father Moxi spluttered, speechless with rage.

Lin Juan felt little connection to his "Young Master" identity. Accustomed to unrestrained freedom, he detested being controlled. The more these people tried to rein him in, the more he recoiled.

"Anything else?" Lin Juan asked, a flicker of impatience crossing his face. "If not, move aside."

Father Moxi watched Lin Juan depart, his expression sour.

Back at the Holy Snake Cult, he swept everything off his desk in a furious gesture. "It seems he’s grown too bold, forgetting how he ever ascended to this position!"

Deng Wenruo stood silently to the side, eyes downcast.

He had woken up one morning to find himself in this world. Unsure of his exact location but armed with some of the original host’s memories, his well-read mind immediately conjured the idea of transmigration into a book.

Could he have transmigrated?

Deng Wenruo decided to observe the situation for a while, maintaining the original host’s demeanor to assess the circumstances.

The identity he now inhabited was that of a trusted confidant to Father Moxi, one of the Holy Snake Cult’s priests. Moxi’s trust meant he was taken everywhere, which quickly allowed Deng Wenruo to understand the nature of this world.

Here, humans and deities coexisted. Besides ordinary humans, there were "New Humans" with semi-bestial traits, blessed by the gods with animalistic features. The most favored among them grew long snake tails.

Like Father Moxi.

He possessed a pale bluish snake tail.

Deng Wenruo also learned that the lighter the snake tail’s color, the higher the status. Those closer to silvery-white were nearest to the gods, while darker colors signified divine displeasure.

At this point, Deng Wenruo was eighty percent certain: this wasn’t a transmigration into a book. He had likely entered a supernatural domain during that great fog.

He had returned to his normal form—but what about the others?

Leveraging his position, Deng Wenruo quietly searched for his companions. Unexpectedly, he encountered Lin Juan first.

Good news: he had found Mr. Lin.

Bad news: Mr. Lin seemed to have forgotten everything about the outside world.

Deng Wenruo was troubled.

He never imagined Mr. Lin would be the Young Master.

According to popular rumor, the Young Master was handsome and benevolent, possessing a sacred white snake tail. He was the human most beloved by the gods, who had decreed that he would lead all the people of this land into the divine realm, ushering in an era of happiness and prosperity.

The common folk believed this implicitly.

However, based on Deng Wenruo’s memories and the temple’s practices, these claims were entirely fabricated—a carefully constructed narrative to elevate the Young Master.

Accustomed to modern life, Deng Wenruo found this tactic familiar. Wasn’t this akin to online hype, a manufactured deification?

He wasn’t interested in the Young Master; his sole desire was to find his lost companions. Yet, the Young Master bore the exact same face as Mr. Lin, and even his tail was identical to what Mr. Lin had before entering this world.

Was it a coincidence?

Was the Young Master truly Mr. Lin?

If so, why had the more powerful Mr. Lin lost his memories, while he, far less powerful, retained his memories from before entering this world?

If not, where was the real Mr. Lin?

And what about Ping and the others?

As a personal attendant to Father Moxi, Deng Wenruo’s opportunities for independent action were limited. He needed a way to gain more alone time.

Alternatively, he could seek an opportunity to meet the Young Master privately and ascertain whether he was indeed Mr. Lin.

After his outburst, Father Moxi leaned heavily on the table, his eyes dark and menacing. "It seems these easy times have emboldened him. He thinks he can break free from the temple’s control? Not so fast."

He needed to teach him a lesson, to make him understand that the temple was not to be defied.

Unaware of Father Moxi’s furious return and his decision to punish him, Lin Juan ambled towards the room where the man was staying.

He knocked politely.

The man, who had returned earlier, set aside the half-finished administrative documents. "Enter."

Lin Juan pushed open the door, saw the man seated at the desk, and glided over.

The documents on the table were neatly sorted. Lin Juan casually picked one up, opened it, and saw it was already annotated.

How diligent.

Lin Juan looked at the man with satisfaction. "How are you feeling today? Is your body up to it?"

"Quite well." The man’s wounds had healed completely overnight, but to avoid unnecessary trouble, he still wore bandages.

His clothes were modest, revealing only glimpses of the bandages. Without unwrapping them, one couldn’t discern his exact physical condition.

When breakfast arrived, Lin Juan kept piling food onto the man’s plate. "Eat more."

The more he ate, the more work he could do.

The man looked at the food in his bowl with an unreadable expression. Under the young man’s eager gaze, he picked up a piece and ate it.

It was strange. He was a severe germaphobe. Normally, if his clothes or food were touched by others, he would discard them immediately.

But in the young man’s sparkling eyes, he couldn’t bear to refuse the kindness and ate everything in the bowl.

Seeing that the man was indeed adept at handling state affairs, Lin Juan dumped all pending matters on him. With Lin Juan’s deliberate indulgence, the man swiftly regained control.

The two gradually grew familiar.

Lin Juan grew accustomed to dining with him, to venting about bizarre incidents, and to having an additional person by his side.

Prayers were once a week, and state affairs were delegated. Lin Juan naturally embraced a life of leisure.

He always felt there was something he needed to do, something unrelated to governing this land, but more urgent, more pressing.

A voice within him urged him not to linger in this world, but to quickly find the truth.

What was the truth he sought?

Lin Juan pondered for several days, without success.

To the man, Lin Juan was transparent. Noticing his distress, the man proactively asked, "Has the Young Master encountered some difficult matter recently?"

Indeed, but Lin Juan didn’t know how to explain it. He shook his head. "Perhaps life has been too comfortable; I tend to overthink things."

As it turned out, some things couldn’t be dwelled upon. A sudden divine manifestation shattered Lin Juan’s peaceful and leisurely life.

Early one morning, still deep in sleep, Lin Juan sensed a cold and powerful presence. He jolted awake, sitting up abruptly and looking around.

Everything was hazy.

A white mist enveloped all. He was not in his bedchamber, but in a vast, silver-white hall. The hall was empty save for a colossal, coiled form at its center—impossible to ignore.

Lin Juan looked up.

It was an enormous serpent.

The giant serpent’s scales were smooth and sharp, shimmering with a soft white light. Its massive head lowered, gazing down at the long-haired young man standing before it.

A cold, inorganic gaze fell upon him, as if to pierce his very soul. Lin Juan met its eyes without flinching.

Was this giant serpent the god worshipped by the Holy Snake Cult?

Was it truly a "god"?

"Do you question me?"

A thunderous voice boomed in his ears. Lin Juan calmly suppressed his thoughts, remaining silent.

"You harbor a betrayer. Deal with them swiftly, or you shall incur divine wrath."

The giant serpent flicked its long tongue, its tone icy.

A chilling cold spread, as if he were plunged into an ice cellar. Lin Juan shivered uncontrollably. Soon, the cold receded, as if it were a warning.

He exhaled—

Lin Juan opened his eyes. Before him was his familiar bedchamber. Everything that had just happened felt like a mere dream.

But Lin Juan knew it was no dream.

He had truly encountered this world’s "god."

More than the "god" itself, Lin Juan was concerned about the "betrayer" it had mentioned.

He had sheltered a betrayer.

There was only one person he had taken in. The identity of the betrayer was clear.

Why would the true ruler of this land be considered a betrayer by this world’s "god"?

And furthermore…

It had threatened him.

Lin Juan smiled. If there was one thing he wouldn’t tolerate, it was threats.

Since he had been warned about sheltering a betrayer, he wouldn’t mind doing something even more outrageous.

Prayers were held every seven days. Coincidentally, today was a prayer day.

With the help of his attendants, Lin Juan changed into the sacred robes for prayer.

"I’m going to the temple for prayers today, so I won’t be able to have lunch with you," Lin Juan informed the man beforehand.

Initially, he visited to ensure the man was working diligently. Each time, he found the man focused and efficient. Gradually, the purpose shifted from supervision to simply sharing meals and chatting.

It had to be said, Lin Juan felt very relaxed with the man. He could speak freely without reservation.

Just two days prior, he had complained to the man about the temple’s prayers.

Lin Juan usually preferred comfortable clothes, which weren’t unattractive. But today, the young man, dressed in ceremonial attire, exuded an aura of majesty and sanctity. Sacred patterns adorned his forehead, enhancing his captivating beauty.

The more divine and inviolable he appeared, the more one yearned to pull him from his pedestal, into the mortal world, to adorn him with all the finest things, just to elicit a smile.

The prayer was about to begin. Lin Juan finished speaking and left. The man he left behind watched his retreating figure, lost in thought for a long time.

The man knew how much the young man disliked trouble. He had even casually discarded seized power because it was bothersome. Yet now, he painstakingly donned ceremonial robes to appease some "god" of unknown origin.

If only he could replace the "god" in the young man’s heart…

Driven by this intense thought, dark, almost black, purple scales emerged from beneath the bandages wrapped around the man’s body, unfurling one by one. They quickly spread upwards, reaching the nape of his neck.

The scales pulsed like breathing, absorbing faint wisps of white mist from the air.

By the time the man regained his composure, the scales had silently receded into his skin.

"Keep an eye on him. Don’t let him get hurt."

The air shimmered faintly as a figure vanished silently from the spot.

Deng Wenruo finally found an opportunity to meet Lin Juan alone.

These past few days, he had been trying to find his companions. Aside from his unexpected encounter with Lin Juan, he had found no trace of anyone else.

No matter how anxious he felt, he could only bide his time for now.

As prayers proceeded as usual, Lin Juan gazed at the giant serpent statue directly ahead. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but for a moment, he felt the statue stir.

The serpent’s head tilted slightly, shifting from its usual condescending angle to a more focused gaze fixed on the long-haired young man leading the prayers at the very front of the crowd.

The statue’s eyes also seemed more open than before.

Suddenly, like an earthquake, the entire hall shook violently.

"What’s happening?"

"Be careful!"

"Is it a divine manifestation?"

Amidst gasps and shouts, the giant serpent statue seemed to come alive, its coiled body unfurling.

Its massive size meant that even its slightest movement caused tremors throughout the hall.

Lin Juan swayed but steadied himself, then caught a small boy who nearly fell beside him.

"Thank you, Young Master," the boy said, his eyes sparkling.

"You’re welcome," Lin Juan replied, handing the boy over to his anxious mother before looking up at the giant serpent statue.

The statue closely resembled the giant serpent he had seen in his dream, though it was smaller. Fortunately, the tremors soon ceased, and the giant serpent statue stopped moving, returning to its coiled posture.

The prayer concluded without incident.

As Lin Juan exited the temple, a priest’s attendant approached him urgently around the corner.

"Lin—" Deng Wenruo suddenly remembered that Mr. Lin had no memory of him, and his voice caught. "Young Master, are you alright?"

Deng Wenruo usually had to remain by Father Moxi’s side. Today, for reasons unknown, Father Moxi had forbidden anyone from accompanying him, giving Deng Wenruo the chance to seek out Lin Juan alone.

"I’m fine," Lin Juan replied, continuing forward.

"Young Master, please wait. I have something to tell you." Mr. Lin truly seemed not to remember him. Deng Wenruo, short on time, gritted his teeth and called out again, stopping him.

Lin Juan paused. "What do you want to say?"

Lin Juan was unaccustomed to strangers approaching him closely, and with no attendants nearby, it suited Deng Wenruo. He lowered his voice and warned, "Young Master, you must be careful of Father Moxi. He was very angry last time and said he would teach you a lesson."

"You’re the attendant who was with Father Moxi last time, aren’t you?" Lin Juan vaguely recalled. "Are you here to warn me?"

Deng Wenruo nodded eagerly. "You must be cautious."

His concern seemed genuine, but Lin Juan was certain he didn’t know this person. His expression remained unchanged, and he didn’t indicate whether he believed him or not, simply saying, "I understand."

Father Moxi acted quickly. Shortly after Lin Juan returned to the palace, rumors began to spread that he had angered the deity, who had shown its wrath during the morning prayer.

Father Moxi’s plan was well-conceived: create a series of crises for the Young Master to make him realize his place and understand that only by relying on the temple could he maintain his position.

But he hadn’t anticipated that before his rumors could spread, a louder narrative would completely overshadow them.

Like Father Moxi’s attempt to use the statue’s movements to manipulate public opinion, these new rumors conveyed the exact opposite of what Father Moxi intended.

"Did you hear? The deity’s statue manifested during the prayer today!"

"I was there! The statue came alive, circling the Young Master. Isn’t that a sign of divine approval?"

"Absolutely! Why else would the statue only circle the Young Master and no one else?"

"Truly the Young Master closest to the gods! Having such a Young Master is our blessing!"

When the news reached Father Moxi, he was so enraged that he smashed his favorite ornament. After calming down, he looked at the shattered pieces on the floor, feeling both furious and heartbroken.

A silent war had ended before it even began.

By the time Lin Juan learned of it, the narrative was already set. No matter how unwilling Father Moxi was, he had to accept that his efforts had only benefited someone else.

From beginning to end, Lin Juan had done nothing. So who was it that turned the situation around?

Lin Juan’s gaze fell upon the true master of this palace.

"Was it you?"

"What?"

"The rumors outside," Lin Juan glided closer to the man, very near. "Don’t say it wasn’t you. Besides you, I don’t believe anyone else could act so swiftly."

Quick, ruthless, and precise, leaving no room for the opposition to react—it perfectly matched the style of this former ruler.

"The deity’s manifestation was itself an affirmation of the Young Master. I didn’t need to do anything; the people who attended the prayer should understand that." The man didn’t directly admit it, but his words were as good as a confession.

So it was him.

Lin Juan had always thought that a king, especially one who had personally led countless victorious battles, couldn’t possibly lose power completely overnight.

The power he could wield was undoubtedly far greater than anyone realized.

For Lin Juan, this was a good thing.

He felt no affection for the "god" he was supposed to worship and was more than happy to see someone cause trouble for it.

Competent allies were always better than foolish ones.

The man occasionally made small moves, which seemed less like careless mistakes and more like testing him. Lin Juan allowed these tests, pretending to be unaware of the power gradually flowing back into the man’s hands.

The Holy Snake Cult grew restless.

They had established their church, using the deity’s name, and seized the country through a surprise attack. How could they tolerate their hard-won power slipping away again?

Lin Juan frequently received letters from the Holy Snake Cult.

He opened one, then tossed another into the brazier. His attendant, serving him, looked like he wanted to speak but hesitated.

As if sensing his gaze, Lin Juan turned. "Do you have something to say?"

The attendant stammered for a moment, then cautiously spoke, "Young Master, isn’t this… perhaps unwise?"

"What about the Holy Snake Cult? Are you sure it’s alright?"

"What if they act against you…"

The attendant had only started serving the Young Master after he entered the palace. He was sent by the Holy Snake Cult, but the cult never treated servants as human beings. Initially, the Young Master was just as harsh, often beating or scolding them. But after the first prayer, the Young Master changed.

He no longer looked down on them but treated each of them equally, improved their welfare, and stopped dehumanizing them…

Compared to the Holy Snake Cult, they were more inclined to side with the Young Master.

Seeing the Young Master’s attitude towards the Holy Snake Cult, it was clear he was no longer as obedient as before. The Holy Snake Cult employed many underhanded tactics—hadn’t the former king of this land fallen victim to their schemes?

It was terrifying.

"I’m waiting for them," Lin Juan clapped his hands, dusting them off. No matter what his original thoughts were, for anyone to try and control the current him, Lin Juan had only three words:

Not a chance!

The man naturally noticed the Holy Snake Cult’s frequent subtle actions and clearly saw the Young Master’s drastic change in attitude towards them.

He wouldn’t delve into the reasons for the Young Master’s transformation, but if anyone intended to harm the young man, they would have to get past him first.

Before the Holy Snake Cult could trouble Lin Juan, they first clashed with the King’s forces.

Of course, they had no idea who was behind these actions, only concluding that these opponents were not to be trifled with.

"Damn it, could he have allied with some other power?" Frustrated by the failed plan, Bishop Moxi slammed his hand on the table loudly.

"The major forces here were already crushed by Yan and can’t recover. There shouldn’t be any other unknown powers," the bishop said.

They had chosen this place precisely because its power structure was simple. As long as they took down the king, they could quickly control the land.

"He brought Yan into the palace. Could Yan be behind this?"

As these words fell, the hall fell briefly silent.

They had learned long ago how difficult the King was to deal with. If not for divine assistance, they would never have succeeded in dethroning him.

Absolutely, under no circumstances must he be allowed to make a comeback!

"Judging by the timing, that thing should start taking effect soon."

"Yes," Father Moxi smiled at the thought of its effect. "A king of a nation, yet abandoned by the gods—the moment the truth is revealed, it’ll be quite a show."

Days passed. Lin Juan calculated the time and felt the man’s body should be mostly healed by now.

"How’s your recovery going?" During lunch, Lin Juan asked with a smile, watching the man across from him eating unhurriedly.

It was clear the man possessed excellent manners; every movement was pleasing to the eye.

"I’m mostly recovered now," the man replied.

"Do you blame me for injuring you like this?" Lin Juan rested his chin on his hand, carefully observing the man’s expression.

During this time, they had gotten along well. He needed to determine whether the man still held any resentment toward him. The man’s attitude would dictate his next steps.

If the man hated him, that would be simple—he could use him and then discard him. If not, they might continue to coexist peacefully, just as they were now.

The man gazed at the youth’s strikingly handsome face. "I wouldn’t call it hatred. To the victor go the spoils; it was all my own choice."

Lin Juan hadn’t expected him to think this way and was taken aback.

"Since you’ve mostly recovered…"

"Is the Young Master driving me away?"

Before he could finish, the man’s voice grew low, giving Lin Juan an inexplicable feeling of a large, abandoned dog about to be deserted by its owner.

"No," Lin Juan found that things seemed to be spiraling out of his control. "Why would you think that?"

"When someone takes in an injured animal, there’s a chance they’ll release it back into the wild once it’s healed," the man said seriously.

"You’re not some small animal," Lin Juan replied, both amused and exasperated. "I meant to ask, since you’re better now, shouldn’t you step in and handle your ministers?"

The youth was gradually returning the power that rightfully belonged to him.

Realizing this, the man’s eyes darkened. "Isn’t things as they are now good enough?"

Lin Juan was surprised. "Are things as they are now really that good?"

The man remained silent.

Lin Juan couldn’t understand. "In your current state, your movements are restricted, you can only see a limited number of people—aside from living in a better environment, how is this any different from being imprisoned?"

This man was the King of this land, accustomed to holding power over life and death, accustomed to being revered from on high. Having fallen from grace, shouldn’t he seize every opportunity to quickly return to the pinnacle of power?

Why did the man seem to lack any ambition or grand aspirations?

Would his plan to use the man to strike back at the "gods" of this world even be possible?

"I think it’s quite good—leisurely, free," the man said unhurriedly as he picked up the teapot and refilled Lin Juan’s cup.

Was he truly content with the status quo?

Of course not.

He was simply hiding his ambition from the youth.

The youth was completely unguarded around him, and his progress in reclaiming power had gone even better than he had anticipated.

Soon.

Very soon, he would eradicate the Holy Snake Cult, completely eliminating this threat. Then, the youth would belong to him alone.

In the past, his ambitions were vast. Now, his ambition was focused on one person.