Chapter 844: I Am Yan Zhichun

My name is Yan Zhichun. I am the "Jidao Wang."

As the ancients said, there are three hundred and sixty professions, each with its own path, and those who reach the pinnacle are called "Jidao."

Taoism also teaches that there are three thousand great paths, each leading to divinity.

But the meaning of "Jidao" is to abandon all other paths and focus solely on one.

Yet, the path we pursue goes against all others—could it be too dangerous?

My life didn't change when I entered the "Zhongyan Zhidi"; it was set in stone from the moment I opened my eyes and saw that white sheep.

Though our interview room always had three "Shengxiao"—a white sheep, a Shar Pei dog, and a sheep—we could only remember the white sheep.

The other two "Shengxiao" didn't even need to speak; we would all end up yielding to that stern white sheep.

The game that started it all was called "Shuo Huang Zhe," where the nine of us had to tell a story from before we arrived here and then identify the liar among us.

It sounded like a simple game, but in reality, none of us knew each other.

We had different identities, occupations, origins, and ways of doing things, so how could we tell if someone was lying in their story?

I can't explain how much ingenuity that white sheep used in this game, and I don't even remember how many times we died in it—after all, before the white sheep taught me to manipulate "Hui Xiang," I couldn't retain my memories.

Ironically, none of us nine were powerful "Hui Xiang Zhe," which meant we couldn't save our memories; each time was a fresh start, with us making the exact same choices in the game.

Without any external interference, we would just repeat the same words and vote randomly, leading to our demise every time.

From the beginning, I saw through the game's trick. I told them that since the eight of us were strangers, the liar was likely the referee, "Ren Yang," but I'm not good at communicating, so I could never convince the others.

My only supporter was a middle-aged man named Zhang Qiang.

Even if Zhang Qiang and I voted for "Ren Yang," it was no use against the majority—we still died, and it felt utterly helpless.

I often wondered why that strange white sheep would bother to help me.

In his game, each of us got an identity card, but on mine, he wrote a message.

He taught me how to properly use my emotions to gain "Hui Xiang." I don't know how many times he wrote that message or how many revisions he made before it became what it is.

Back then, I was truly curious. As the host of the room and someone who surpassed us in every way—from physical abilities to intelligence—wasn't his goal just to kill us all?

Why else would he host this game that creates "Shen," or go to such lengths to gather us from different provinces?

But that white sheep really did help me; he found the trigger for my "Hui Xiang."

As long as I desperately tried to control those who opposed me, I would gain my own "Hui Xiang," called "Duo Xin Po."

This trigger went against everything I'd done before. In my life, I'd faced many people who opposed me, but I never bothered to persuade them.

The white sheep told me that my "Hui Xiang" wasn't strong enough yet—it could barely "Duo Xin," but if I ever managed to "Duo Po," I'd have the same ability as the "Shen" in this place.

From the day I awakened my "Hui Xiang," I learned many things I'd never known before.

For example, I found out that after "Shuo Huang Zhe," there were games like "Yu Hou Chun Sun" and "Tian Jiang Si Wang." I also learned that the white sheep would commit suicide after the first game, and I even found a "Shengxiao Feisheng Duidu Hetong" on his body, which revealed what he was truly after.

He didn't want us to die in the room; instead, he hoped we'd all go out adventuring and completely disappear from the room.

Unfortunately, his name on the contract was obscured by deep red bloodstains, so I didn't know what to call him.

With his cold voice and always wearing a white sheep mask, I might as well call him "Yang Ge."

Though "Yu Hou Chun Sun" and "Tian Jiang Si Wang" were still challenging for me, I had a huge advantage.

Everyone in the room would be under my control, making the same actions as me. Coincidentally, whether it was turning the table boards together or hanging from the ceiling, as long as the participants mirrored my movements, there was a high chance we'd survive.

I didn't need to discuss with them or listen to what they said; I just had to make them follow along.

That way, I could successfully use my "Duo Xin Po" to lead everyone out of the room, then walk down that long corridor to this mysterious place.

Sadly, because I had to forcibly control the other eight to get here, they built up a lot of resentment toward me. As soon as we reached the city, they all distanced themselves and started their own adventures.

It was no different from my experiences in the real world—I was always isolated.

Walking down the dark street, I held up my finger and looked at the words I wanted to say to myself at sixteen—"YNA."

But was I really alone?

Though I hate to admit it, people in this world will isolate you for any reason.

Poverty will isolate you, wealth will isolate you, excelling in studies will isolate you, and failing will do the same.

Being too hardworking won't work, and being too lazy won't either. Having too many ideas won't fly, and having none won't either.

People can't accept anyone too different from them, whether the differences are positive or negative. They want you to be just like them, with no obvious distinctions, so you can be "one of their own" and they might want to be friends.

So, to fit in, people have to become mediocre.

I only realized this too late. As a child, to fit in and have enough to talk about with my classmates, I spent time watching animations and idol dramas I didn't even like. I even became a fan of the idol groups all the girls in class were chasing.

But what was the point of all that wasted time?

I regret it now—my life shouldn't have to revolve around accommodating others, or bending over backward just to get friendships that aren't even real.

Later, Yang Ge told me that elites in the world are few and far between. If you become mediocre to fit in, you'll one day blend into the masses, becoming just another ordinary person in the vast crowd.

Years later, Yang Ge said to me, do everything you can to surpass the "masses" and stand at the pinnacle.

The bricks at the top of a pyramid are always the fewest.

That aligns with my own thoughts. Honestly, I never needed friends or teammates; I have a clear understanding of my life. I just need to do what I want.