Volume One: The Lonely Beta Test Chapter Twelve: Come, Worship the Great Immortal!

“Uncles, your kindness moves me deeply. Please allow me to bow to you in thanks!” As Lin Feng finished speaking, he bowed low before Lin Zhen and Han Dang.

“Good nephew, quickly, get up! Your Uncle Han and I are brothers—there’s no need to stand on such ceremony among family,” Lin Zhen said, raising Lin Feng with one hand and drawing Han Dang close with the other, his words sincere and natural.

“That’s right, brother, you’re absolutely right!” Han Dang nodded in excitement.

Impressive—one had to admit Lin Zhen’s way of forging ties was truly remarkable. Lin Feng had half a mind to give the man a great bear hug.

As the saying goes, kin should always side with their own, and indeed, Lin Zhen’s gestures had just found their way straight into Lin Feng’s heart.

“Just now at the banquet, Second Uncle said that today, our Lin family enjoys a double happiness. But I think he wasn’t quite right—it’s a triple blessing! Second Uncle, shouldn’t we open another feast and drink till we’re all thoroughly merry?” Lin Feng beamed.

With his uncles working so hard to set the mood, how could he not fan the flames?

“Excellent! Excellent!” Lin Zhen responded.

Han Dang, ever the hearty soul, added, “Second Brother, good nephew, I’m truly fortunate. But tonight, I must watch over the lantern.”

“Fifth Brother, you’re at it again!” Lin Zhen scolded, feigning severity.

“A true man stands by his word. Besides, I—”

“Enough, I can’t outlast you, you stubborn ox. I’ll just drink your share, and you try not to drool over it, all right? Hahaha!” Lin Zhen burst out laughing.

“Hmph, don’t try to provoke me—I won’t fall for it.”

“Uncles, please feel free to drink. I’ve just thought of a way to keep the lantern burning till morning,” Lin Feng quickly added, not wanting his own mischief to spoil this rare chance to deepen their bonds.

Just then, the sound of hurried, disorderly footsteps and noisy voices echoed from beyond the courtyard, growing louder by the moment. The three looked toward the gate, as did everyone else in the courtyard, turning as one to face the commotion.

Thud, thud, thud—loud pounding on the door.

“Master Lin, open up!” someone cried out between knocks.

Lin Zhen recognized the voice. After a moment’s thought, he strode quickly to the door and called out, “Who goes there? What business brings you here at this hour?”

From outside, the knocker replied, “Master Lin, it’s me, Goudan from East Street. All these people behind me are neighbors from town. We saw a celestial being descend upon your house earlier, and we’ve come to pay our respects. Please, Master Lin, open the door!”

So many people, so many mouths—what just now had been Lin Feng’s little display of magic had already become, in their telling, the descent of a deity. With so many hearts and minds at play, were they to be let in and found no immortal, they’d surely poke and pry about, and then the Lin family would have no peace at all.

Thinking thus, Lin Zhen said, “Oh, it’s you, Goudan. There’s no immortal here. Please, all of you, go back.”

With a wave of his hand, twenty stout men of the Lin family swiftly took up posts behind the gate, ready to prevent any forced entry.

“Master Lin, there’s no point concealing the truth from us. We all saw it with our own eyes—the divine radiance illuminated the land four times, and it all rose from your estate. The thunderbolt, too, came from your direction. Such a great immortal gracing our town is a blessing for all of us! Please, let everyone come in and pay their respects!” This time, the speaker’s voice was elderly, unmistakably that of an old man.

Lin Zhen now found himself in a quandary. Open the door, and who knew what chaos might ensue inside; refuse, and the townsfolk—having witnessed what they believed was the arrival of a deity and calling it a boon for all—would surely take offense. Life would be difficult for the Lin family hereafter.

Noting Lin Zhen’s hesitation, Lin Feng realized the trouble at hand. It seemed he had no choice but to play the role of a charlatan.

Earlier, with only the Lin family as audience, it would have been easy to keep his trickery a secret. But if all these outsiders saw that it was he, Lin Feng, who had performed the so-called celestial arts, word would surely spread across the county and even the entire prefecture. Not that this was necessarily a bad thing—it might even bring him unexpected fortune.

But he truly didn’t wish to deceive these simple folk, to wear the mantle of a false immortal. He pictured the days ahead, with people coming daily to seek blessings, fortunes, or rituals, perhaps even a crowd of followers trailing after him, chanting, “Great Immortal Lin Feng, your powers know no bounds!” The thought made his skin crawl.

Still, wish as he might, the matter at hand needed resolution. Since fate had brought him to this world, perhaps this was his lot.

So a charlatan he would be—maybe there would even be beautiful women offering themselves in ritual sacrifice, as those sensational stories from his former world so often told. Though many scorned those tales, surely some did so out of jealousy. The thought left him quietly amused, though he failed to consider his own courage.

He called to Lin Zhen, “Second Uncle, don’t worry. I have a solution. Open the gate and let everyone in.”

Lin Zhen, though unsure of Lin Feng’s plan, saw the confidence in his eyes. Given all the surprises Lin Feng had brought since waking up two days ago, not least the magical display just now, Lin Zhen believed that even if trouble arose, Lin Feng could handle it. In his own haste, he’d been unable to see the obvious.

Lin Feng turned and took a few steps toward the table, only to notice Han Dang following him. Perhaps Han Dang feared that with so many people about, things might get out of hand and meant to protect him. The thought brought Lin Feng a wave of warmth.

But if Han Dang stayed too close, it might expose him. Yet to send him away seemed unkind. “Uncle Han, I’m about to perform a small ritual and must keep my focus. With so many people, some may get curious and draw near. I’m not worried, only that if the candles were to be accidentally snuffed out, it would be unfortunate. Would you please guard the area, and not let anyone approach?”

“Rest assured, nephew! So long as I am here, not a soul will cross the line!” Han Dang thumped his sturdy chest with conviction.

“Then I thank you in advance, uncle!”

“No need for thanks. Quickly, they’ll be coming in any moment now.” Han Dang moved to the edge of the gathering.

The doors had barely opened when the crowd outside surged in like ducks released from a pen, jostling for entrance. The two doormen, caught off guard, were each pinned against a wall by the swinging doors. Several others quickly encircled Lin Zhen, standing close to avoid being swept away by the throng.

At that moment, a sudden “whoom” came from Lin Feng’s direction—a small flame sprang up, smoke billowing outwards. The crowd was instantly stunned, frozen in place by the uncanny scene, fear etched on every face.

When the smoke cleared, Lin Feng sat cross-legged, his voice ringing out, deep and resonant, tinged with reproach, “You mortals are truly troublesome. Why do you disturb this immortal’s return?”

Though it was Lin Feng’s voice, it now carried greater force, somber and commanding. Han Dang spread his arms, signaling the crowd not to approach.

“This…this…truly is an immortal descended to earth. Everyone, kneel and pay your respects!” cried the man called Goudan, dropping to his knees.

“We pay homage, great immortal!”

“We meant no offense in disturbing your divine presence. Please forgive us!”

The townsfolk scrambled to their knees, trembling in terror. The immortal had just been preparing to depart, only to be dragged back by their intrusion—how could he not be angry? The thunderclaps were still ringing in their ears; should the immortal unleash his wrath, none would survive.

The Lin family members were equally fearful. As the saying goes, it’s easy to invite a god, but difficult to send him off. The offerings of fruit and incense meant as tribute had yet to be presented; thankfully, the immortal had shown no displeasure.

But now, with this noisy horde barging in and disturbing his rest, surely the immortal would be angered. If he were to unleash a few thunderbolts, the Lin family estate would be reduced to rubble.

Thinking of the offerings, the Lin family silently cursed Zhang Meng for being so unreliable—he’d been gone far too long.

In the hush, a coarse voice rang out from the arched gate. “You’d better behave yourself! Try anything foolish and I’ll shoot you through the heart on the spot!”

“Yes, yes, I wouldn’t dare!” came the quavering reply. A man dressed in black, carefully balancing a tray piled high with fruit, emerged from the archway, while Zhang Meng followed behind, bow drawn and arrow nocked, the shaft wrapped oddly at the midpoint. Anyone paying attention would have recognized the black-clad man as the one who’d secretly tailed Zhang Meng and Lin Qing at the city gate that afternoon.

Though Zhang Meng’s voice was loud enough for all in the courtyard to hear, not a single person turned to look at him. As he passed through the gate, he shouted, “Feng’er, I’ve brought the fruit the immortal asked for!”

Lin Feng gave no reply, still seated, unwilling to break character now that the “immortal” had possessed him. But why was Zhang Meng escorting that man?

Seeing everyone kneeling and no one acknowledging him, Zhang Meng thought to himself: The delay with the fruit must have angered the immortal. He glanced at the black-clad man, his temper flaring. “It’s all your fault, you wretch—you’ve ruined everything! Hurry up and deliver the offerings!”

He drew the bowstring tighter as he spoke.

The creak of the bow sent the black-clad man into near panic. He stumbled forward, tray shaking, but before he’d come within ten paces of Lin Feng, a figure blocked his path.

“The young master has decreed: while the ritual is underway, none may approach,” the man said coldly.

“This…”

With a fierce guard ahead and a wrathful captor behind, the black-clad man was utterly desperate, trembling violently. With a clatter, the tray fell from his hands, scattering fruit across the ground.

He dropped to his knees, kowtowing in terror, a sharp, acrid smell rising from his trousers.