“It also can't be ruled out that the Goddess of Beauty is very fond of Cupid. Since I've entered the dungeon, I'll figure out these questions sooner or later.”
“As it stands, aside from gaining a 'daily bang' buff, my condition hasn't been affected. My level is still there, and my inventory isn't sealed...”
“Since this buff exists, it won't be meaningless. It might be meant to weaken me. If I get attacked by the followers of the God of Light at night, I'll be in serious danger.”
For instance, cannon fire roaring outside while he was fiercely pounding away with some woman in his room.
And then getting reduced to ashes together.
Zhang Yuanqing pondered silently while keeping his mouth busy, constantly bringing up topics to probe for intelligence.
After a round of conversation, he gathered plenty of useful information.
First was the island's recent situation. Due to the threat from the God of Light, the believers and offspring of the Goddess of Beauty on the island were actively preparing for war.
Amini's job was to lead craftsmen in crafting arrows.
Second was the Goddess of Beauty Aphrodite's whereabouts. This deity had left Paphos Island not long ago to seek reinforcements, most likely looking for one of her divine lovers.
Finally, there was the number of divine offspring on the island, the current social hierarchy, and Aphrodite's romantic affairs.
Aphrodite had a husband, but he had never appeared. The Goddess of Beauty disliked anyone on the island mentioning him, so Herasine had no idea who he was either.
She had only heard older “slaves” gossiping in private, which was how she knew the Goddess of Beauty had a husband in name.
As for her de facto husband—meaning the Goddess of Beauty's public lover—he was a powerful God of War.
That God of War was Cupid's father, and he had fathered multiple offspring with the Goddess of Beauty.
Unlike demigods like Amini and Herasine, those children were all brave, divine, and mighty, possessing exceptionally high combat prowess, and all resided on Paphos Island.
Naturally, besides that God of War, the Goddess of Beauty had plenty of other lovers in secret.
How could a deity symbolizing sex and love possibly be a devoted, diehard monogamist?
Zhang Yuanqing feigned a sigh of woe. “My dear Herasine, why doesn't Cupid like me? It truly troubles me.”
The girl with long, dark green hair said softly, “Amini, it's because you are upright and kind. Cupid is a mischievous bastard who finds joy in punishing mortals and playing tricks on his brothers and sisters.
“Everyone fears him. You were the only one willing to stand up and reprimand him, protecting weak mortals—even though it earned you Cupid's grudge.
“Hmph. He must be so wicked and unruly that he's cursed never to grow up. It's the curse of all living beings.”
*Things aren't looking good. My trouble isn't just the followers of the God of Light, but Cupid on the island as well...* Zhang Yuanqing bared his teeth.
Talking as they walked, the two soon traversed the forest and arrived at the eastern side of the island.
Zhang Yuanqing's vision suddenly opened up. A massive, towering castle sat perched upon the coastal reef cliff.
The sound of waves crashing against the rocks was faintly audible even hundreds of meters away.
The castle was constructed from giant black stones, complete with round watchtowers, a pointed bell tower, and a cluster of soaring domed structures supported by a multitude of tall columns.
It bore an uncanny resemblance to ancient Greek architectural styles.
Behind the castle stood rows of stone houses cast from yellow mud, their walls bearing distinct traces of sea-breeze erosion.
Through their conversations along the way, Zhang Yuanqing had gained a general grasp of Paphos Island. This island was where the Goddess of Beauty was born and also served as her earthly palace.
Living in those mud-cast stone houses were mortals who believed in and followed the Goddess of Beauty.
Their daily duty was to offer fine wine and delicacies to the Goddess of Beauty and the divine offspring in the castle. In return, the Goddess of Beauty protected them from storms when they went out to sea for fishing and kept wild beasts from troubling them.
At this moment, mortals wrapped in animal hides with sun-darkened skin were hauling timber and ironware up toward the castle.
Along the way, many mortals in the forest were also setting traps and mounting crossbows, fully engaged in wartime preparations.
*These weapons and traps might work against ordinary people or enemies at the Transcendent stage, but against powerful foes at the Saint stage and above, they're completely useless...* Zhang Yuanqing muttered inwardly.
Before long, they passed through the dense rows of stone houses and reached the castle towering atop the reef cliff.
The moment he stepped into the castle, Zhang Yuanqing was drawn by the sound of scolding.
“Lord Aphrodite's royal guards should possess the talons of an eagle, the fangs of a tiger, and the strength of an elephant! Yet your spears are as limp and feeble as a woman's!”
The one shouting the reprimand was a blonde woman with an athletic build and wheat-toned skin. She wore a one-piece tunic, holding a straight sword in one hand and a shield in the other.
In addition, she wore bracers and a breastplate—a rare figure equipped with metal armor.
Around her lay more than twenty burly men wearing helmets and holding spears, strewn across the ground in disarray.
Zhang Yuanqing scrutinized this woman, who moved with the grace of a leopardess. From their conversation earlier, he easily identified her.
Menia, one of the offspring of Aphrodite and the God of War, and Cupid's younger sister.
This goddess had inherited the God of War's power and held sway over war. She was Aphrodite's most powerful offspring—
—the strongest in combat prowess.
“Amini!” Menia looked over coldly. “Cupid is looking for you. You'd better go see him immediately, before his temper erupts.”
...
The sixth day of the eleventh month in the fourteenth year of Tianbao.
Dark clouds rolled across the sky. The mountain wind whipped against the body, strong enough to knock a person off their feet.
On the narrow mountain path, a young scholar led a scrawny horse, trudging with difficulty through swirling sand and flying stones.
The horse's back carried two bamboo baskets—one filled with books, the other with supplies for a long journey.
The youth held his head high and chest out, unaffected by the wind and sand. In contrast, the scrawny horse behind him kept stopping in its tracks, its eyes squeezed shut against the howling gale as it snorted continuously.
Xiahou Aotian sighed. His current identity was a student traveling to the capital for the imperial examinations. Having spent ten years studying by the cold window, his mind packed with classics and scholarship, he intended to take Chang'an by storm.
Unfortunately, today was the sixth day of the eleventh month in the fourteenth year of Tianbao.
In three more days, An Lushan would rebel!
That was right—the dungeon he had entered was the Scholar class's S-rank dungeon, “An Lushan Rebellion.” The main quest was: randomly participate in three battles and emerge victorious!
When Xiahou Aotian had first read the dungeon description, he had slapped his thigh and declared: “Winning three battles? Child's play! Watch me handcraft a nuclear bomb in minutes and turn Little An and Little Shi to dust.”
The Scholar class specialized in alchemy, formations, and artifact crafting. Erudite and multi-talented, they could bring peace and good governance to a nation with the pen, and develop armaments to defeat enemies with the sword.
War dungeons were not uncommon among high-tier Scholars; after all, items, mechanisms, and equipment were all related to combat and warfare.
To be honest, however, he somewhat regretted choosing the “An Lushan Rebellion” dungeon. Aside from the main quest, he had a side quest: Arrive in Chang'an!
Reaching Chang'an shouldn't have been difficult. However, his level had been sealed.
He had encountered the exact same predicament Yuanshi Tianzun faced in the “Ruler of a Fallen Nation” dungeon.
Right now, Xiahou Aotian had only the strength of the Transcendent stage, and the items and consumables he could use were restricted to the Transcendent stage as well.
And the Transcendent stage of the Scholar class was notoriously pathetic. Along with the Musician, they were known as the Twin Turkeys of the Spirit Realm!
“On the way to Chang'an, I'm bound to encounter danger. Most likely bandits or brigands. Rebels are unlikely, since the An-Shi rebels won't revolt for another three days.”
“My current strength... well, I still have quite a few Transcendent-stage items. If ordinary bandits come, they'd just be throwing their lives away. The only worry is if there are cultivators among the bandits...”
Xiahou Aotian pulled a long face, debating whether he should fight back if he ran into bandits.
If he fought back, casualties would inevitably follow, turning it into a fight to the death where surrendering meant certain doom. Unless he was completely confident in victory, it would be better not to resist.
But not resisting meant placing his life in the enemy's hands, which left him feeling uneasy.
“Maybe I should learn from that shameless bastard Yuanshi Tianzun. The moment I see bandits, I'll drop to my knees and bow, shouting: 'I'm a man of letters! I can read and write, and I'm skilled in arithmetic! I can serve as your accountant, I have so many uses!'
“Besides, I'm just a penniless scholar. Killing me won't earn the bandits much coin; there's no profit in it.”
Xiahou Aotian mumbled to himself.
The mountain wind grew fiercer, cutting against the skin like cold blades. The ridges on both sides rolled like waves in the gale. The clouds hung heavy in the sky; though it was barely ten in the morning, the sky was as dark as night.
A torrential downpour was imminent, and in this desolate, mountainous wilderness, there wasn't even a place to rest and take shelter from the rain.
He had no choice but to lead his horse and hurry along.
*Patter~*
A cold raindrop landed on his cheek, followed by the clatter of heavy rain. It quickly soaked through his outer robe, chilling him to the bone.
Xiahou Aotian hadn't suffered from the cold in a long time. Shivering involuntarily, he lowered his head and sprinted ahead with his scrawny horse. After an unknown amount of time, he spotted a temple with red walls and black roof tiles on a gentle slope beside the mountain road ahead.
It stood silently in the bleak wind and driving rain, set against the backdrop of the gloomy sky and deep mountains thrashing in the wind.
Xiahou Aotian hesitated for a moment before leading his horse toward the somewhat dilapidated temple.
Arriving at the temple gate, he found the wooden doors half-ajar and riddled with rot and wormholes. There were no lanterns or plaques beneath the eaves; it seemed to have been abandoned for years.
Xiahou Aotian breathed a sigh of relief. No people was good—no people meant safety.
What he feared most was pushing open the doors only to find a bunch of bandits sheltering from the rain inside. That would have been awkward.
Looking through the half-ajar wooden doors, the interior was dim, silent, and cast in shadowy silhouettes.
Xiahou Aotian opened his inventory, took out a crimson half-finger glove, and with a soft *whoosh*, a flame over a dozen centimeters high flared up from his palm.
Guided by the warm firelight, he led his horse over the threshold and walked deeper into the temple, soon arriving at the main hall.
The hall was empty, covered in dust and cobwebs. Enshrined on the pedestal was not a statue of Buddha, but a cracked divine statue, showing that this was not a Buddhist temple, but a Mountain God or City God temple.
Xiahou Aotian circled the hall but found no dry firewood. He reached into one of the bamboo baskets on the horse's back, pulled out half a jin of low-grade charcoal, and used his glove to kindle a fire.
Scholars traveling to the capital for the imperial examinations in the twelfth month would more or less carry some charcoal with them to keep warm, after all, as they occasionally had to camp out in the wilderness.
Xiahou Aotian took out books, tore them out page by page, and tossed them into the coals to kindle the fire.
The exam-bound scholar was merely an assigned identity; he couldn't care less about the words of ancient sages.
After warming himself for about half a quarter of an hour, the cold was driven from his body, and warmth returned. Xiahou Aotian glanced at the pitch-black exterior outside the hall. The freezing rain continued to fall, droplets tumbling from the eaves like broken strings of pearls.
The mountain wind blew splashed mist into the hall, leaving the air damp and chilly.
Xiahou Aotian draped his outer robe over the horse's back, using the horse's body heat and the charcoal fire to dry it.
Trekking along the mountain path for hours had left his body exhausted. With a physical constitution only slightly stronger than an ordinary person's, Xiahou Aotian yawned, intending to take a short nap to recharge before continuing his journey.
Right at that moment, knocking sounded from outside the hall.
*Thud, thud~*
Carried through the silent curtain of rain, it was abrupt and eerie.
Xiahou Aotian frowned. Before the knocking sounded, he hadn't heard any footsteps at all.
Chapter 933