Volume One: The Lonely Beta Test Chapter Eleven: The Scorned Trickster Pulls Off a Brilliant Feat

Everyone was worried about Lin Feng’s safety, but what exactly was happening to our great Master Lin?

Earlier, he had been a bit nervous. In his anxiousness, he had accidentally ruined the ritual setup with a heavy stomp, and when he bent down just now, it was only to fix it.

But what sort of setup was it?

It turned out that at four points around him, each positioned with precision, stood half-foot-high, rolling pin-thick cylindrical objects. Four black-gray lines trailed from beneath the table, connecting the cylinders into a pattern. That one misstep had scattered the black powder outlining these connections.

Now Lin Feng knelt before the table, dazed. He’d managed to restore the arrangement, but had run out of incantations. Those impressive phrases he’d chanted earlier, sounding every bit like real spells, were merely old lines he’d picked up from a village shaman during his days in the countryside.

He couldn’t just keep up the act without any words, though. Suddenly, inspiration struck, and he began to mutter at a rapid pace. However, in his haste, he forgot to put down the horn-shaped instrument in his hand.

Zhang Meng, listening carefully to Lin Feng’s mutterings, thought for a moment and said to Lin Zhen, “Second Brother, do you think Feng’er is thirsty?”

“How do you know? Don’t make things more confusing,” Lin Zhen replied with a glare.

“Just listen to him—doesn’t it sound like he’s saying ‘eating grapes, not eating grapes,’ or something like that?”

“It does sound a bit like that,” agreed Han Dang, who was standing nearby.

“Second Uncle, I think Brother Feng is talking to someone,” Teng Yan whispered to Lin Zhen, her face as anxious as anyone’s.

“And what makes you say that?”

“Listen...”

After Lin Zhen paused to listen, Teng Yan analyzed softly, “It sounds like the first phrase is asking ‘Want some grapes?’ and the next is saying ‘Don’t want grapes.’”

“Miss Yan speaks with reason. It must be that Meng’s earlier curses offended the spirits, and now Feng’er is apologizing to them,” Lin Zhen concluded, drawing nods of agreement from those around.

“Qing’er, hurry and fetch some fruit and offerings!” Lin Zhen called Lin Qing over anxiously.

“I’ll go, I’ll go—” Before Lin Qing could move, Zhang Meng had already darted several steps away.

Seeing this, Lin Zhen quickly leapt after Zhang Meng. He dared not let this unreliable third brother handle such an important task, so he grabbed him, saying, “Third Brother, let Qing’er go!”

“Second Brother, I may be rash, but I’m attentive to details—let me go!” Zhang Meng pleaded.

Lin Zhen scolded under his breath, “What details? Did you catch what the immortal likes?”

“I know, I know, just don’t bring any grapes!” Zhang Meng shouted as he dashed off, afraid of being too late and angering the spirits further.

Lin Feng thought he’d muttered enough, so he stood, raised his sword skyward, and shouted, “Divine Thunder of the Nine Heavens, heed my command—let thunder roll from east, south, west, and north!”

With a sweep of his left hand, a spark burst forth beneath the table, racing in four directions with a sharp crackling. Four thunderous explosions followed, and four jets of fire shot up from the ground, roaring toward the heavens.

The sudden spectacle left everyone around utterly stunned. Before they could react, four more thunderous booms shattered the night, lighting up the sky with blinding brilliance, illuminating every corner as if it were day.

Then, silence—deathly silence.

No one could believe what they had just witnessed: their young master Lin had summoned divine thunder from the heavens. Smoke and mist swirled around Lin Feng, who now sat in the center like a deity.

Such commotion was impossible to ignore. The once-quiet town erupted with the crowing of roosters and barking of dogs; startled birds took flight, adults panicked, and children wailed. The starry sky had suddenly been split by thunder and lightning, not far above their heads, unlike the distant storms of old.

Anything out of the ordinary was seen as supernatural; the townsfolk, deeply superstitious, were seized with terror. Whether they had seen it with their own eyes or only heard it from within their homes, all fell to their knees, trembling and praying for mercy and protection. After a while, realizing nothing further had happened—that they and their loved ones were unharmed—their fear subsided, and they ventured outside, eager to see what had truly occurred.

Soon, the town’s alleyways filled with curious onlookers. In the darkness, voices murmured:

“I saw it! Those four divine lights shot up from the Lin family estate!”

“Exactly, the sound came from that direction too.”

“Looks like something big has happened at the Lin family’s place.”

“Should we go check it out?”

“Isn’t that dangerous? What if there are monsters... or ghosts...” stammered a nervous voice.

“I doubt it’s anything evil. Those four beams were dazzling, illuminating the night—such lights are said to accompany the arrival of immortals and gods,” an elderly man reasoned.

“Yes, I’ve heard that too,” affirmed another.

“Then let’s hurry to the Lin estate. If an immortal has appeared, perhaps we might be blessed with fortune!”

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”

At the mention of immortal favor, the crowd’s fear evaporated. Moments ago, they had been trembling in terror; now, they surged toward the Lin estate, eager and spirited.

Lin Feng, meanwhile, had no idea what was happening outside. He himself was startled by the four thunderous blasts.

To think that makeshift gunpowder could pack such a punch! he marveled inwardly.

The smoke choked him, and he wanted to leave, but since he was still performing the ritual, he forced himself to remain seated, waiting for the right moment to bring things to a close.

While Lin Feng sat cross-legged, biding his time, somewhere among the celestial mists above, on a resplendent platform, an old man gazed down with contempt. “Girl, look at this! After all the risks you took, breaking the heavenly rules to bring this outsider here, he’s just imitating Zhang Jue and hoodwinking the commoners. He’s not even as good as the other outlanders, and you just helped him with his little ritual?”

The old man heaved a long sigh.

“Old man, let me remind you once again: we were both created by the heavens at the same time—don’t call me ‘girl’ again!”

“What should I call you, then?”

“Call me ‘elder sister’—no, I’m too young and beautiful to have an old brother like you. Just call me ‘goddess’!”

“Heh... whatever you like. But seriously, that boy is such a disappointment,” the old man shook his head.

“Old man, you know he entered this world against the rules—he has no talents or powers like the other outlanders. How can he compete with them?”

“So what can be done?”

The goddess said nothing, only blinking her beautiful eyes at him.

“Don’t look at me—I’m not breaking the rules again!”

“I don’t care. The matter with him must be resolved before the world’s remaking. Otherwise, I’ll confess everything to Heaven and be done with it!”

With that, the goddess turned into a swirl of celestial mist and vanished, leaving the old man staring in a daze.

***

Lin Feng had thought that after a bit more performance, he could call it a night. But what happened next left him at a loss.

Lin Zhen was the first to recover. The mist around Feng’er must be the sign of a deity’s manifestation, he thought. Such a rare opportunity should not be wasted—why not pray for blessings?

Lin Zhen knelt down, trembling with reverence, and cried, “Heavenly gods above, Feng’er, all-victorious, grant us your immortal blessings!” With his cry and kneeling, the others also came to their senses, bowing low, waiting in silence as if expecting the great Master Lin to bestow fortune and favor.

Lin Zhen must have lost his mind, leading everyone to kneel and beg for blessings from him, nearly driving Lin Feng mad.

He laughed bitterly to himself: I’ve already fooled you to this extent, even giving you a fireworks show centuries ahead of its time, and you’re still not satisfied?

With little time to prepare, Lin Feng had nothing left to use for deception. Scanning the table, his eyes landed on the flickering candle. A plan took shape. Holding the horn in one hand and the candle in the other, he slowly stood.

Tucking the horn under his arm, Lin Feng addressed the crowd: “In performing this ritual, I have prayed for your fortune. But a person’s fate is determined by Heaven; my actions go against the divine will.

To shield you from Heaven’s wrath, I sacrificed a bit of my lifespan, and this candle was lit with my very soul. It must not extinguish until dawn, or my lost years cannot be reclaimed. Yet I now see that this candle will burn out before midnight.”

“What should we do?” Lin Zhen interjected anxiously before Lin Feng could finish.

“It’s all our fault, we’ve brought harm to the young master. He already secured blessings for us, yet we demanded more! How shameful...”

At that moment, Han Dang stood up and came before the crowd. Noticing Han Dang’s unusual demeanor, Lin Zhen also rose.

Han Dang knelt before Lin Feng and declared, “It is all my fault. If not for my questions, the young master would not have been pressed to perform this ritual and suffer loss of his life’s years. I cannot escape blame.”

As he spoke, he drew a dagger from his waist and moved to stab himself. Fortunately, Lin Zhen, sensing danger, kicked the weapon from his hand.

“Brother Han, what are you doing?” Lin Zhen asked in confusion.

The change had come so quickly that Lin Feng, still bewildered, rushed over, laying his hands on Han Dang’s shoulders and checking him anxiously. “Are you hurt?” he asked.

“Brother Lin, young master...” Han Dang knelt, cupping his fists to Lin Zhen and Lin Feng in turn, then spoke with deep remorse: “Though I am but a rough man, I know that righteousness and benevolence are the cornerstones of a man’s life.

The Lin family saved me from death, yet now I have caused their son to lose years of his life. That is unrighteous. For my own selfish wishes, I have reduced the young master’s lifespan. That is unkind. Now I, Han Dang, am both unkind and unrighteous. What face have I to remain in the world? I beg you both to let me atone!”

What the hell is going on? Lin Feng thought in dismay. All I did was spout a few lines, and now a famed general of the Three Kingdoms is trying to kill himself over my nonsense. If only it were this easy in wartime—just talk them into suicide and win the battle.

But in truth, Lin Feng was overthinking it. In ancient times, reputation was as precious as life itself—remember how Wang Lang was driven to death by Zhuge Liang’s scorn? Yet not everyone was like that; otherwise, the god of war Lü Bu would not have borne the infamous title of “three-surnamed slave.”

So as Lin Feng mocked himself, he felt a deeper admiration for Han Dang’s rare character. Now was the perfect moment to win him over.

“Uncle Han, I haven’t finished speaking yet!” Lin Feng said.

Han Dang was only about twenty-six or twenty-seven, and Lin Feng was no more than seven or eight years younger. Yet Zhang Meng had already addressed Han Dang as a brother, and to secure Han Dang’s loyalty, Lin Feng now called him “uncle” with great emphasis.

Hearing this, Han Dang turned and replied, “Young master, after harming you so, how could I be worthy of that title?”

“You are worthy, you are! It’s just that I didn’t make myself clear earlier—there is a way to remedy this,” Lin Feng quickly reassured him.

Lin Zhen, hearing this, brightened with hope and asked, “Feng’er, are you saying there’s a way for the candle to last until dawn?”

“What is it? As long as it restores your lost years, I’d walk through fire and water!” Han Dang declared eagerly at the prospect of a solution.

“It’s not as difficult as Uncle Han imagines. Let’s stand up first and I’ll explain,” Lin Feng said, trying to pull Han Dang to his feet.

“Not until you tell me, young master—I won’t be tricked into standing,” Han Dang insisted.

What a stubborn bull! Lin Feng mused. First Zhang Meng, the brash ox, now Han Dang, the stubborn one—my future will be nothing if not ‘bullish.’

He had no choice but to bend over and continue his ruse: “How could I deceive my elders? The solution is simple: move the candle into an oil lamp, connect its wick to the lamp’s wick, and as long as the oil doesn’t run dry, the flame will last. It just needs to keep burning until this time tomorrow.”

“That’s it?”

“Will that really work?”

Both Han Dang and Lin Zhen questioned him skeptically.

“Of course—it’s not as if I’d joke about my own lifespan. Otherwise, I’d lose both a good uncle and several years of life!” Lin Feng replied breezily.

“Haha! Brother Han, I know my nephew well—he’s only just returned from the gates of death and now cherishes his life more than ever!” Lin Zhen laughed, his worries melting away as he helped reassure Han Dang.

“Very well. In that case, young master, leave the task of tending the lamp and oil to me. Let me use this chance to make amends,” Han Dang said, grasping Lin Feng’s hand.

“This was my fault, let me handle it. Brother Han, you’ve had a long journey, you should rest,” Lin Zhen countered.

“No, I have yet to repay even a fraction of the Lin family’s kindness. Brother Lin, please don’t fight me on this,” Han Dang insisted.

...

Watching the two argue, Lin Feng felt warmth bloom in his heart, for their dispute showed just how much he meant to them.

As for Han Dang’s allegiance, it was now a certainty—just a few more words, and it would be sealed. Lin Feng was in no rush; sometimes, letting things happen naturally was best of all.