Chapter 54: The Second Gate of Immortality Opens

Due to an unexpected matter, I made a trip to the provincial capital of the Eastern Metropolis.

When Chu Xiaoyu hurried back to the countryside farm, the time was just a little past eight o’clock.

He had only just twisted open the main gate when he sensed something was amiss.

Someone had entered the farm!

Could it be a thief?

Sun Wukong, Iron Fan, and Fatty Niu had all agreed to return together to the Journey to the West, so for now, the farm was uninhabited.

Someone was in the kitchen.

The visitor was tall and broad-shouldered, his back to Chu Xiaoyu, wolfing down food at the stove like a starved ghost.

Uh… why was this person dressed in a sumptuous, brocaded long robe? The material looked rather luxurious!

Was he an actor gone mad? Or perhaps a devotee of ancient styles?

After all, with the film studio nearby, Chu Xiaoyu’s first thought was to imagine this man as a cosplayer like Feng Sanniang, Four-Eyes, Frog, or Toad.

But judging by the visitor’s elegant attire, he wasn’t a vagrant, and certainly couldn’t be a thief.

But then how had he suddenly barged into the farm?

It was all quite inexplicable.

“Ahem… hey there, brother, how did you get in here?”

Chu Xiaoyu’s sudden question startled the man, who spun around, still clutching a rice ball in his hand.

The newcomer stared at Chu Xiaoyu in shock.

“Ah… you, who are you? How did you appear here? Guards, protect your king!”

Guards? What nonsense was this? Was he deep in character as an actor?

Chu Xiaoyu, face twisted in utter bewilderment, asked, “You… you’re not a thief, right? When I came in just now, the main gate was locked up tight. How did you get in? Did you climb over the wall?”

“Climb the wall? Hmph, I, the Lonely King, walked in openly and without shame. Seeing this thatched cottage deserted, and since I was hungry, I had no choice but to scavenge for food. As it happened…”

Chu Xiaoyu, still half-listening in confusion, suddenly felt a sharp buzz in his mind. An abrupt fragment of information sprang forth:

Name: King Zhou
Age: 35
Occupation: Emperor
Fortune: 98

Luck: 55

Remaining lifespan: 28 years, 56 days, 18 minutes, 12 seconds.

King Zhou…? King Zhou of Shang?

My god! This fellow was actually an emperor? And not just any emperor, but one who had crossed thousands of years from the Shang dynasty?

With the information about fortune, prosperity, and longevity imprinted in his mind, Chu Xiaoyu didn’t even know how to begin doubting it.

After all, with the precedent set by the Monkey King, and given the strange prompt in his mind, Chu Xiaoyu was already convinced that the intruder in his farm was none other than King Zhou of Shang from millennia ago.

For King Zhou, stumbling into this novel place, surrounded by things and buildings utterly foreign to him, was a shock beyond words.

What sort of place was this?

And this young man who appeared—he looked like a fool, dressed in strange clothes, with hair cropped short?

Outrageous!

One’s skin and hair are inherited from one’s parents—how could anyone just cut it off? Unfilial!

Seeing Chu Xiaoyu’s baffled expression, King Zhou berated him, “Insolent wretch! Where do you come from? How dare you not kneel before your king?”

“Kneel? Sorry, you’re in the wrong place.”

With the details of fortune, prosperity, and longevity having appeared, Chu Xiaoyu knew this man’s true identity was not in question.

But why had the tyrant King Zhou suddenly appeared on his farm? Could it be that, like the Monkey King, he too had stumbled upon a stroke of fate?

Yes—that must be it.

“Insolent wretch, you still refuse to kneel before me? Guards, seize this wild and barbaric ruffian—!”

“Shut up! Stop squawking, or I’ll feed you to the sharks. Hah! You, a fallen tyrant, want me to kneel to you? What are you thinking? Are you dreaming?”

“What did you say? Fallen tyrant? You call your king a ruler of a lost nation? Scoundrel, you deserve death!” King Zhou roared in fury.

“Noisy!”

Chu Xiaoyu suddenly snapped his fingers. Without warning, the air itself underwent a sudden transformation—heaven and earth fell silent.

Everything around them froze.

The ability to manipulate time at will in this godlike domain was an awe-inspiring skill—one that deserved a perfect score.

King Zhou instantly felt an overwhelming, terrifying power emanating from Chu Xiaoyu, shackling him so completely that he could not breathe, let alone move.

What kind of power could instantly imprison all things?

Could he even be human?

No!

He was not. He was like an immortal from the heavens, wielding a fearsome, otherworldly magic.

Creak! Creak!

King Zhou could even hear his own teeth chattering: “You… what have you done to me? Why… why can’t I move at all?”

As a supreme monarch, ever since his ascension to the throne, King Zhou had never feared a single soul.

Not even Grand Preceptor Wen Zhong, the highest of ministers, earned his deference.

But today, for reasons unknown, having blundered into this manor and encountering this young man, he found himself paralyzed in place.

For the first time in his life, King Zhou understood the true meaning of “fear.”

“Well? Where has that arrogance gone now?”

With a casual gesture, Chu Xiaoyu lifted the immobilized King Zhou into the air.

King Zhou, terrified, cried out, “Ah—sir, please, no! I know my error, I’ll never dare to offend you again! Spare me—!”

What did it matter if he was an emperor? When his body was seized by such a dreadful and irresistible force, rendering him utterly immobile, he was as helpless as a chicken or fish on the chopping block, at the mercy of the executioner.

King Zhou was truly terrified—more than he had ever been in his life.

With another flick of his hand, Chu Xiaoyu spun King Zhou through the air in dizzying circles.

Ugh!

In that moment, King Zhou wished for death, so disoriented and nauseated that he retched continuously, miserable and desperate as a salted fish.

“Master, sir, immortal—have mercy! I beg you, I truly know my mistake!”

So frightened he nearly lost control of his bowels, King Zhou could only plead for his life.

After thoroughly tormenting King Zhou, and seeing that the lesson was sufficient, Chu Xiaoyu snapped his fingers once more. King Zhou crashed to the ground with a thud, sprawled like a dead dog, gasping for air.

That mysterious power had held him so tightly he could not even twitch. Such terrifying force was simply too overwhelming.

Now collapsed on the ground, limp as a dead dog, King Zhou dared not act up again. He could only grovel meekly, even his breathing careful and subdued.