Chapter 4: Inviting a GOD
Staring at the shifting mark in his palm, Zhang Yu couldn't help but wonder,
"What does this even mean?"
"Don't tell me that once it's completely filled, I'm dead?"
Unfortunately, no one could answer the unease in his heart.
After barely surviving his morning physical education class, Zhang Yu dragged his exhausted body to lunch with Bai Zhenzhen and Zhou Tianyi. A short rest later, the afternoon classes began anew.
The first lesson was history, taught by an elderly professor with a head full of white hair.
The old man entered the classroom, took his seat behind the podium, and began lecturing at his own pace, flipping through the textbook without much enthusiasm.
Meanwhile, the students below used the time to rest, regulate their breathing, cultivate, or even leave the classroom for body refinement. The teacher, however, seemed utterly indifferent.
Zhang Yu had no interest in the history lesson either. He skimmed through the textbook quickly, letting the information resurface in his mind and integrating it with his own memories.
"Kunxu has no nations—everything is monopolized and controlled by the Ten Great Sects. The first layer of Kunxu spans an area twice the size of China, consisting of countless cities, each managed by a government established by a major sect."
"Beyond the realm of immortality, the technological level here seems about the same as my past life. But ordinary people… their lives seem much harder."
"I've only ever lived on the first layer of Kunxu. As for the higher layers… I've only seen them in movies and TV dramas."
According to Zhang Yu's inherited memories, only by getting into a university could one ascend to the second layer of Kunxu. And only after graduating and joining a major sect could one climb even higher.
In Kunxu, one's ability to wield greater immortal power and access higher privileges determined how far they could ascend.
The higher the level, the denser the spiritual energy, the more advanced the immortal arts, and the greater the abundance of resources—so the legends say.
As these thoughts swirled in his mind, Zhang Yu gazed out the window, basking in the golden sunlight.
"Such a real sky… such real sunlight… Is this place truly inside some colossal megastructure?"
"If the first layer alone is twice the size of China, then how vast must the entirety of Kunxu be? It can't possibly still be on Earth, right?"
"And more importantly… how did I even get here?"
His thoughts drifted back to the moment he arrived in this world—the eerie ritual, the inexplicable transition—sending a wave of dizziness through his head.
Shaking it off, Zhang Yu forced himself to focus. Compared to these grand mysteries, his more immediate concerns were far more pressing—his high school grades, living expenses, making money, physical education...
Thinking about his grades and cultivation, Zhang Yu's headache only worsened.
Besides physical education, the school's Immortal Dao curriculum was divided into four subjects: Dao Heart (150 points), Mana (150 points), Martial Arts (100 points), and Dao Techniques (100 points).
Judging by his memories, his rankings had been plummeting across the board—there wasn't a single subject in which he wasn't falling behind.
At this rate, it was only a matter of time before Songyang High expelled him.
And another question nagged at him.
"His family isn't wealthy, and he has no exceptional Immortal Dao talent. His entrance interviews in both the first and second years weren't particularly impressive either... So how did the original Zhang Yu even get into Songyang High?"
Digging through his inherited memories, Zhang Yu could only recall that the original host somehow managed to scrape through with a barely acceptable interview result.
Thinking of his family situation, his expression shifted slightly. He took out his phone and opened his contact list.
"Should I try reaching out to Zhang Yu's parents and sister after school?"
The rest of the afternoon passed with Zhang Yu alternating between reviewing lessons and sorting through his fragmented memories. The more he pieced things together, the clearer his understanding of this world—and his identity—became.
Before he knew it, six o'clock had arrived, marking the end of the school day.
For most students at Songyang High, however, the day was far from over. Many rushed to their supplementary classes, followed by self-study sessions that would last until deep into the night.
Unlike his classmates, Zhang Yu sat alone in the empty cafeteria.
With no money left in his account and his loan limit maxed out, he had stopped attending supplementary classes two weeks ago.
After finishing his dinner, he hesitated for a moment before finally pulling out his phone.
"Might as well give it a shot."
He first dialed Zhang Yu's mother, then his father, but both calls went unanswered.
Sifting through his memories of Zhang Yu's parents and sister, he sighed and reluctantly called his sister instead.
"Zhang Yu?"
Her voice was cold, distant.
Bracing himself, Zhang Yu said, "Sis, can you lend me some money?"
A long silence followed.
Just as he thought she might hang up, her voice finally came through.
"When you were in first grade, I told Mom and Dad that you had no talent for the Immortal Dao. Pursuing this path was nothing but a waste of time and money."
"But after the divorce, Mom still believed in your delusions. She struggled to support you through high school, even coming to us for loans recently. She wanted to take money from my tutoring fund."
"And you… you stupid, self-important fool, actually took out loans to pursue cultivation. Just to stay in school, you've buried yourself in debt, haven't you?"
Zhang Yu had no words to refute her accusations.
Because, based on his memories—she wasn't wrong.
After the divorce, even knowing their mother's income wasn't enough to support them, the original Zhang Yu had stubbornly insisted on walking this path. He had taken out loan after loan, barely keeping himself afloat.
And his mother, despite her initial support, had eventually reached her limit. After repaying his debts one too many times, only to see the hole grow deeper, she had finally given up on him.
His sister's voice carried on.
"This is the last time we're speaking. Pay off your own damn debts."
"One last piece of advice—drop out and get a job."
"Since we were once family, I'll send you 500 yuan. It should be enough to keep you from starving while you find work."
The call ended.
Zhang Yu let out a long breath. "Well… at least I got 500."
With the 500 yuan Bai Zhenzhen had given him earlier, his total savings had finally broken four digits.
Yet as he walked home, his sister's words kept replaying in his mind.
"Drop out and work?"
Lying in his cramped, moldy apartment, Zhang Yu stared at the ceiling in silence.
His grades were failing. He was broke. Drowning in debt. Physically exhausted beyond measure.
He had to admit—quitting school and getting a job did seem like the rational choice.
Just then, a sharp pain shot through his palm. The mysterious symbol there finally turned completely black.
At that very moment, a crisp female voice echoed beside him—
"Kid, the god-inviting ritual is complete. Time to grant you three wishes."
Zhang Yu whipped his head around—only to see a ragged, poorly sewn cloth doll sitting at the edge of his bed.
Its fabric was yellowed with age, its stitching uneven, as though it could fall apart at any moment.
Recognition struck him like lightning.
"This… this is the same doll from that eerie ritual on the rooftop yesterday!"
The doll's button eyes gleamed as it spoke again,
"Well? Did you hear me? Three wishes—no more, no less."
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