Volume One: The Lonely Beta Test Chapter Thirteen: The Dreadful News

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“Courting death!” Zhang Meng drew his bow, ready to shoot the man in black. Seeing that things were taking a turn for the worse, Han Dang leaped to Zhang Meng’s side, seized the arrow with one hand, and whispered urgently, “Brother, the Great Immortal is currently possessing Feng’er. You must not take a life in the presence of the Celestial!”

At these words, Zhang Meng quickly relaxed the bowstring and retrieved the arrow. He gave the man in black a kick and snarled, “Consider yourself lucky to keep your miserable life—for now!”

He then strode several steps toward Lin Feng, knelt down, and pleaded, “Great Immortal, do not be angry. I was fetching fruits for you and, passing by the kitchen’s old tree, happened upon your divine display. Four shafts of celestial light flashed by, illuminating this thief who was hiding in the branches. I caught sight of him as I looked up and seized him then and there. That’s the reason for my delay. I beg your forgiveness!” With that, Zhang Meng bowed deeply.

Lin Feng listened to Zhang Meng’s explanation, thinking to himself: So my blundering luck caught this fellow. But why would the man in black sneak back to the Lin estate? Could he really be a thief? Night has only just fallen—hardly an ideal hour for burglary. Besides, there’s nothing of value in the kitchen. There must be more to this.

Clearing his throat, he spoke again in the same mystical voice, “This thief is indeed despicable.” He paused, then continued, “But as there is cause, I will not hold you accountable. As for you, thief—why have you come? Speak the truth. Should you utter even a single falsehood, I shall consign you to the eighteen hells!”

“Great… Great Immortal, I am a scout from Azure Dragon Stronghold. On the first day of the sixth month, our chief—no, our leader—waylaid a group of merchants on the road at the foot of the mountain. The two leading men were clearly no common traders, so he spared their lives, took them captive, and sent word to their families for a ransom.

“One of them is truly a man of iron—no matter how we questioned him, he revealed nothing! If not for the threat to his wife, we would still know nothing of his identity. Afterwards, our leader sent me to deliver the ransom note.

“At the city gate, while reading the notices, I discovered someone calling himself ‘Zhang Meng’—the very name the merchant used for his third brother. So I kept watch and, after some inquiries in the city, confirmed they were the ones I was seeking. I tailed them here. But, Great Immortal, I am new to the gang and have only scouted a few times. I beg you to judge fairly.” With that, he resumed his desperate kowtowing.

From his perch in the tree, he had witnessed Lin Feng’s sorcery firsthand; the thunderclaps had nearly scared the soul out of him, and he’d almost fallen—if he hadn’t, Zhang Meng would not have caught him so easily. Now, he bitterly regretted his greed. For a handful of coins from his chief, he had volunteered for this errand. Now his life was forfeit, and worse, he feared the Immortal would damn him to the lowest hells—just the names of the blade mountains, fire seas, and boiling cauldrons made his blood run cold. How could he dare lie?

When the man in black finished, Zhang Meng flew into a rage. “What? You lot have kidnapped my eldest brother and sister-in-law! I’ll kill you now!” He raised his bow and prepared to shoot.

“Meng!”
“Third Brother!”

Lin Zhen and Han Dang both shouted, but it was too late. With a twang, the arrow flew, and the man in black collapsed face forward. The townsfolk, still kneeling, cried out in terror.

Lin Feng himself was stunned—murder, right before his eyes. Though he had slain tens of thousands in games, that was virtual; now a living, breathing man had fallen dead at his feet. How could someone not yet twenty years old remain unmoved by such a sight?

Lin Zhen and Han Dang rushed to the fallen man. There was no arrow in his body; yet he lay there, trembling as if in his death throes. Had the arrow passed through him? Impossible, Lin Zhen thought.

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Han Dang supported the man, examined him carefully, and announced, “Fortunately, he wasn’t hit.”

Lin Zhen bent down for a closer look and, reassured, said, “Indeed, no wound.” He quickly pinched the man’s philtrum.

The truth was, the man in black had already been terrified senseless by Lin Feng’s earlier words. Zhang Meng’s arrow, though it missed, was the final straw—he collapsed from sheer fright.

When the man awoke, Han Dang immediately turned to Lin Zhen. “Second Brother, do you believe his story?”

“With the Great Immortal present, he would not dare lie. By the dates, our eldest brother should have returned days ago. I thought he was delayed by other matters—never imagined he’d fallen into such peril.”

Lin Zhen’s analysis dispelled Han Dang’s last doubts. He kicked the man in black and growled, “Wretched thief! Should anything happen to our benefactor, I swear to tear you and your ilk limb from limb.”

Of course, Lin Feng had no idea what was transpiring in their hearts. He encouraged himself inwardly: To survive in this world, bloodshed is inevitable. The carnage of future battlefields will be a thousand times more brutal than this—I must steel myself. The weak are swept away, the strong endure, and the mighty command the storm. If I cannot even face this, what right have I to challenge the warlords for supremacy over the land, let alone the entire realm?

What the man in black revealed concerned his parents in this world. Though he had never met them, his feelings for them could hardly compare to those he held for Lin Zhen, Zhang Meng, and the rest.

Lin Feng’s outlook was not hard to grasp. He regarded this transmigration as little more than a journey far from home. He’d only just said goodbye to his real parents yesterday; now, suddenly, he had new ones—how could anyone adjust emotionally in so short a time?

“Today, I’ll treat it like playing a game,” he told himself.

With that, Lin Feng’s resolve grew firmer. His earlier thoughts had wandered too far; for now, he needed to send the “Immortal” away and wrap things up, lest some new complication arise.

“That thief is not to die.” Lin Feng meant to say “the thief’s crime is not deserving of death,” but misspoke, omitting “crime.”

“The Immortal’s foresight is unmatched—he was not hit by the arrow, only frightened unconscious,” Han Dang explained.

“Ah, that is well. I will not hold your earlier actions against you. Feng’er is my beloved disciple; this concerns his parents. Though I am a being beyond this world, and not meant to meddle in mortal affairs, I cannot stand idly by. I have already looked into it: this calamity was destined, but they will pass through it safely. If you do all in your power to help Feng’er rescue his parents, I shall bestow blessings upon you and safeguard your lives.”

“Thank you, Great Immortal! We will do all we can and will not fail your trust!” everyone replied in unison.

“Very good. And you, thief—if you turn from evil and aid my disciple in rescuing his parents, I shall pardon your past crimes.”

The man in black, long since awake, heard that he would not be sent to the deepest hells and bowed repeatedly, “Thank you, Great Immortal, thank you…”

“Enough, it grows late,” Lin Feng said. With a few moves, the megaphone in his hand transformed into a flat board—how, none could tell. At another “boom,” fire flared again, and all present bowed to send off the Great Immortal.

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It is said that women possess the keenest senses. When the smoke cleared and the others were still dazed, Teng Yan noticed that Lin Feng, who had been seated cross-legged, was nowhere to be seen. She rushed over and found him collapsed on the ground, seemingly unconscious.

She knelt without care for propriety, cradled Lin Feng tightly in her arms, and called out desperately, “Brother Feng, Brother Feng!” But Lin Feng gave no response.

The others, too, sensed something amiss and wanted to come closer, but feared they might startle the Immortal again—what if he returned upon seeing his disciple in distress? Only Lin Zhen, Zhang Meng, and Han Dang rushed to Lin Feng’s side.

They saw Teng Yan holding Lin Feng, weeping quietly, and all realized this was serious.

Zhang Meng anxiously shook Lin Feng’s head, shouting, “Feng’er, Feng’er, wake up!” With each call, a spray of wine-scented spittle splattered Lin Feng’s delicate face. Still, Lin Feng did not stir.

Han Dang stroked his beard, pondering aloud, “Could it be the young master, upon hearing of his parents’ misfortune, was so distressed for their safety that he fainted from worry?”

“That’s quite possible. Let’s press his acupoints,” Lin Zhen said.

And so, one pinched his philtrum, another squeezed his webbing, and a third patted his chest. Sure enough, Lin Feng soon awoke.

“Uncle, I’m fine! After I bid farewell to my master, I must have fallen asleep. Is he still here?” Lin Feng asked weakly, his face twisted in pain.

Wasn’t this fellow just now playing the part of the Immortal? How did he end up like this?

The truth was, Lin Feng intended to make the play more convincing; after sending off the “Immortal,” he pretended to faint. He thought he’d just rest for a moment before waking, but he hadn’t expected Teng Yan to rush over and hold him. The warmth of her embrace and the faint fragrance were so intoxicating that he felt no urge to rise at all.

Unfortunately, the heavens—or rather, his three overly-concerned uncles—couldn’t tolerate such lasciviousness. Their “rescue” left him no choice but to abandon his scheme and wake up.

Seeing Lin Feng awake, Lin Zhen finally breathed easy, repeating, “It’s all right, it’s all right!”

Now that he was “awake,” Lin Feng knew he could not, however thick-skinned, remain nestled in a beauty’s arms before so many watching eyes. Moreover, his parents were still to be rescued. Though he had yet to meet them, his sense of filial duty was deeply rooted.

Even in these waning days of the Han, filial piety was the most prized of virtues. From the time of Emperor Wu, the “Filial and Incorrupt” examination had been the principal route to office; many of the great and powerful had begun their careers thus—the most famous among them, none other than the warlord Cao Cao.

Lin Feng had no wish to be deemed unfilial. His earlier dalliance in the arms of a beauty was justified by three reasons: first, as the ransom note showed, his parents’ lives were not in immediate danger; second, he already had a plan for their rescue and was confident of success; and third, the allure of that gentle embrace was simply too hard to leave behind—it was a pleasure he relished deeply.