The news of the Moon Sacrifice Festival swept through Qingqiu like a storm, instantly igniting the emotions of all the tribal members. Zhao Wuxie, in league with the council of elders, laid out an elaborate trap under the guise of divine will. The announcement, engraved on the central stone tablet of the tribe, was written in blood-soaked characters: "Divine grace is vast, the hero has arrived, a fortune for Qingqiu. However, the dark forces in the north are growing stronger, endangering the people. Divine warning states that if the hero does not embark on the northern campaign within seven days, Qingqiu will lose the divine protection and become a land of demons!"
Suddenly, fear gripped everyone. Reverence for the gods and dread of the future weighed heavily on the hearts of every Qingqiu tribesperson. They pinned all their hopes and anxieties on the lazy figure atop the tall tower.
Countless eyes converged, filled with pleading, doubt, and angered agitation.
Inside the tower, Su Wanqing's delicate brows were tightly furrowed, her tone one of unprecedented urgency: "Lin Xiuyuan, this is no longer a game! Zhao Wuxie is using the fate of all Qingqiu to force you to comply! Even if you don't consider yourself, you should think about the safety of the tribe. Just agree now, stabilize the hearts of the people, and we can plan further!"
However, Lin Xiuyuan was as if nothing was wrong, lounging leisurely on a wicker chair, crunching on a slice of ice-cooled spirit melon, juice splashing everywhere. He squinted, lazily spitting out seeds, mumbling unclearly: "Why rush? The gods want me to save the world, but they didn't say I had to do it in person. Besides, this divine warning seemed too convenient, don't you find it suspicious?"
Su Wanqing was so enraged by his indifferent attitude that she couldn't speak, only stomping her foot and turning away. She knew any persuasion was futile. The Moon Sacrifice Festival tonight would be an unavoidable ultimate showdown.
As night fell, the silver moon hung high. On the central square of the tribe, a massive holy fire blazed, its light piercing the sky, illuminating every tense and solemn face. Thousands of tribespeople surrounded the altar, the atmosphere so heavy it felt suffocating.
When the time came, Zhao Wuxie, draped in a dark golden sacrificial robe and holding a bone-embedded staff, slowly climbed onto the altar. He surveyed the sea of people below, his voice loud and authoritative: "Moon deity above, the people of Qingqiu pray! Now, our tribe's hero has received divine enlightenment, and shall bear the heavenly mandate to purify the north! Now, please let the hero ascend the altar, face the holy fire and all the people, and swear to embark on the expedition!"
As his words ended, all eyes turned to the solitary tower at the end of the square. One second, two seconds, ten seconds passed... The tower window remained pitch black, no movement.
The crowd began to stir, whispers rising like a flood.
Zhao Wuxie's face darkened, but he maintained the dignity of the high priest, calling out loudly: "Perhaps the hero is preparing, let us wait patiently. Once more, please let the hero ascend the altar!"
Su Wanqing's heart tightened, and she whispered urgently to her attendant. The attendant obeyed, swiftly running towards the tower. However, moments later, she returned with a face as if she had seen a ghost, whispering in Su Wanqing's ear, her voice trembling: "Holy Maiden... the Hero says... says his daily check-in task isn't complete yet, he needs to sleep two more hours to fulfill it..."
"Spit—" Su Wanqing nearly choked, almost losing her composure. She couldn't believe her eyes as she looked towards the tower. Was this man crazy?!
The entire square fell silent again, followed by even louder murmurs. This excuse was so absurd that everyone thought they must have heard wrong.
On the altar, Zhao Wuxie's face was already completely livid, the anger in his eyes almost bursting forth.
He gripped his staff, each word squeezed through his teeth: "Good, what a hero! I shall invite you one last time! If you do not come after three invitations, it will be blatant defiance of the divine will, insulting the entire tribe! You shall be punished for the sin of blasphemy, executed on the spot!"
The killing words echoed over the square, the atmosphere instantly plummeting to an icy point.
Just then, the door of the tower creaked open. A lazy figure slowly emerged.
He wore a loose white robe, wooden slippers clicking as he walked, and even carried half an unfinished pancake. Under thousands of eyes—some shocked, some angry, some disdainful—Lin Xiuyuan yawned widely, eyes half-closed, walking up the altar as if strolling in his backyard, casually complaining: "What's all the noise in the middle of the night? Can't people sleep?"
Zhao Wuxie shook with rage, shouting sternly: "Lin Xiuyuan! This is the Moon Sacrifice Festival, sacred and solemn! As the hero, how dare you appear in such disheveled clothes and behave so rudely! Quickly, put on a proper demeanor and swear to embark!"
Finally, Lin Xiuyuan lifted his eyelids, glanced at him, a playful smile on his lips: "You want me to work hard? Fine." He paused, then muttered in a tone only he could understand, "First, let's see if my system agrees."
Almost instantly, a crisp mechanical voice sounded in his mind: [Ding! Continuous sign-in day 4, achieved 'Persistence' small achievement! Reward: Silence Ring (Rare Item). Wearing this, all sounds within a ten-step radius around the wearer will be forcibly reduced by 50%, effect lasting eight hours.]
Lin Xiuyuan's timing was perfect! He quietly slipped the ancient, shadow-like ring onto his right middle finger, then dusted the crumb off his hands, looking around the square.
Seeing that Lin Xiuyuan was not only unresponsive but also daydreaming, Zhao Wuxie, unable to bear it, gathered all his strength to unleash a thunderous roar: "You...!"
But as he opened his mouth, he froze. Despite his full strength, his voice was barely a mosquito's buzz, so weak he could barely hear it himself.
He cleared his throat uncertainly and roared again: "Lin Xiuyuan! You dare!"
This time, the sound was equally light, as if wrapped in an invisible layer of cotton, dissolving in the air the moment it left his throat.
The tribespeople looked at each other, confused.
"What's the high priest doing? His mouth is moving, but there's no sound?"
"Yeah, can't hear clearly, it's like chanting..."
"Did he damage his voice just now?"
Su Wanqing stood at the front of the crowd, her sharp mind quickly sensing something amiss. Her gaze fell on Lin Xiuyuan's hand with the new ring, her eyes flickering before returning to calm, choosing silence.
Lin Xiuyuan looked at Zhao Wuxie's face, swollen red from exertion but unable to project any authority, and smiled harmlessly. He stepped forward, warmly patting Zhao Wuxie's shoulder, leaning in to whisper in a not-so-quiet voice: "High Priest, you've worked hard hosting this festival. Seeing you so tired, with a hoarse voice, I'm saving you some energy. No need to thank me."
He turned and faced the thousands of tribespeople below, his voice clear and loud, instantly spreading across the entire square: "Everyone! I know you're anxious, but please don't rush."
He pointed at himself, face calm: "I admit, I'm lazy, the laziest in the world. But I never break my word—the gods chose me for a reason. That reason is, as long as I get enough sleep, I automatically grow stronger. So, urging me is useless, forcing me is useless. When I feel I've slept enough and grown strong, I'll go to the north on my own, no need for your invitation."
He waved casually, his wide robe fluttering in the night breeze, turning to walk down the altar. That lazy yet indescribably upright and composed back became the focus.
The square was first deathly silent, then erupted in thunderous laughter.
"Hahaha! So that's it! Sleeping can make one stronger? What an interesting hero!"
"Look at the high priest, his face is all purple!"
On the altar, Zhao Wuxie became the laughingstock. Standing before the holy fire, pointing at Lin Xiuyuan's back, his mouth opened and closed, but no sound could suppress the laughter.
That silent roar made him look like a ridiculous clown. Humiliation, anger, frustration... countless emotions surged in his chest, finally converging into a scorching blood rage, rushing to his throat. He tightly gripped his own neck, feeling it burning as if scorched by fire, excruciating pain, unable to utter even the faintest sound.
Under the moonlight, his flushed face was frozen into a silent, hideous picture.