CG Chapter 162: Steward of the House of Wei
A sudden jolt of soul-tearing pain spiked through Aretius's skull, as if ten thousand needles were callously tearing apart his very essence.
His eyes felt heavy, as if something was trying to obscure his vision; he felt like he was in a dream that refused to end.
Luckily, that did not stop him, as he was able to push through this thick fog. Still, that was only the beginning.
At the exact moment he opened his eyes, he was welcomed by the sight of a shoddy broom meant for sweeping the floor. What was even more bizarre was that his hands seemed to be moving on their own as he carefully swept the spot where he stood.
He tried to stop his movements, but just as with his sight, it felt like someone was forcing him to continue with his actions.
Pondering it, he felt like he was taking the role of an insignificant background character in a grand play. This pressure was merely the stage forcing him to conform to his predesigned role, ensuring he didn't step into a spotlight that wasn't his.
After a few fruitless attempts at pushing back, he decided to shift his focus to the stage he had been thrown into.
Giving the place a long glance, he was able to get an understanding of where he was. It was a small, ancient courtyard with a single main house in the middle and two separate huts.
Over the short courtyard wall, he could see the few scattered cottages surrounding the courtyard he was in; from there, he concluded that this courtyard was the center of this entire place.
Thinking back to what happened before he was swallowed by that light, he came to the only semi-logical conclusion: he was inside the village.
Yet, the abnormal part was that the whole Wei Ji Village, with all of its people, was reported to have either perished or disappeared in abnormal circumstances. At the same time, the residences around him seemed to be full of life.
The strangeness, however, didn't stop there. As Aretius's sight fell upon his hands, he found them weathered and aged like dried husks.
This meant that whoever placed him here had the ability to see through his disguise well enough to place him in a role fitting his life experiences: an insignificant man.
Nevertheless, instead of feeling fearful or worried, a slight grin appeared on his face. Although the entity playing with him might have been able to place him in the role, even going as far as forcing him to play his part faithfully, it gave him the role fitting the original owner of his body, Jin Mozi. This meant that the entity could only tell so much about him.
To add to this, he had the absurd theory that the entity didn't want to hurt them. Since it could place them in these roles, it could just as easily take their lives. Or maybe, it couldn't?
As if by some divine force, and at the same instant he had that thought, the steady motion of the broom began to slow down for a breath before coming to a complete stop in the next.
This bliss didn't last for long; shortly after, he felt a jolt of pain stronger than what he had initially experienced. The pain wasn't the problem, as he could handle it; he felt like his body had been attacked due to his breaking the rules, as if that entity were outraged by his defiance.
This problem made him feel like he was going in circles. If he didn't break through the role, then he would stay here forever, but if he did, he would probably die. His mind went back and forth between all the possible solutions and outcomes...
Suddenly, a thought came to his mind: 'This place is like a play. I can't break my role completely, yet I can slowly change my role until the play naturally falls apart.'
The two solutions might seem similar at first, but that couldn't be further from the truth. These two were akin to trying to pull a needle: the first would be like forcefully tugging it from a pile of other needles, while the other would be like masterfully drawing it out from cotton without damaging either of the two.
It didn't take long for him to get the chance to test this conjecture. A small boy wearing scholarly clothes that were oversized for his body stepped from the ancient central house.
The way the boy was carrying himself was carefree, full of playfulness. Yet, a mere glance at the maid dutifully following him would reveal that he was one of the masters of this house.
Seeing this, Aretius's pupils shone with a fiendish light. He knew that this boy could be his chance to break away from the role of a janitor and ascend to a higher role.
Some might question where the other two who came in with him went. Aretius had the same thought for a second, but believing it wouldn't benefit him for now, he pushed the matter to the back of his mind. As for what happened to them? He couldn't care less.
He didn't want to deal with the hassle of going against their clans, but just like how they had a backer, he, too, had a tiger to hide under. If things turned worse and they disregarded their face, well, he too could change his.
He had already acquired a new face and wouldn't mind changing it once more before disappearing.
The world was wide, and he could go anywhere; he could become a righteous Confucian scholar, a bald monk, or even a Daoist under the grand path.
In life, one might feel stuck playing a certain role. A physician's son might feel fated to be a physician, and a scholar might feel that a government office is his destined cage.
Nothing is fated, and if one doesn't have the heart to break through a mere role, then one should just die in one's place. For he had already given his life to chase the dreams of another.