Yin Feng suddenly died at his desk while working overtime over Lunar New Year and slurping noodles.
An old white-haired man took pity on him for missing out on his triple overtime pay and granted him another life.
In another world, he was the Wind Gate's divine son, a once-in-a-millennium prodigy and the most powerful divine force of his era. Even the emperor had to show him respect.
Old Man: Want it?
Yin Feng, who'd long been dreaming of retiring and enjoying life, slapped his thigh. Was there even anything to think about? Of course he wanted it!
He opened his eyes to find himself surrounded by a massive army. Their banners read: "Burn the Immortal Witches, Set the Court to Rights, Kill Demons to Fill the Granaries," "Destroy the Immortal Sects," and "Restore Human Order."
Completely baffled, Yin Feng looked around and saw eighty-one followers who had been sacrificed, not a scrap of bone left. This was bad!
This world was fighting against gods and superstition, and he was the new leader of a superstitious cult, summoned through a human sacrifice!
How was this any different from joining the Nationalist Army in 1949?
The Wind Gate has thrown the government into chaos, and the crown prince has raised his banner to purge the treacherous officials.
Prince Ning, placed under house arrest for three years after slaughtering the White-Robed believers, leads three hundred cavalry straight to the altar, determined to kill the White-Robed believers, destroy the Wind Gate, behead the Celestial Master, and execute the divine son.
As his blade came down, the divine son turned around. In that instant, Prince Ning, who had long intended for them both to die, felt his heart twist with anguish.
The Wind Gate's divine son, a once-in-a-millennium prodigy, looked exactly like his sworn elder brother!
The man who had taught him to ride and shoot, and taken an arrow for him before falling off a cliff, had died three years ago. His body had been stolen.
Now, the Wind Gate's divine son occupied that body. Dressed in white, with dark hair and cool, clear features, he stood atop the altar like an otherworldly immortal untouched by human joys and sorrows.
Prince Ning's blade stopped in midair, his fingertips trembling. "You insolent demon! How dare you steal the body of the young heir of the Zhenbei Marquis's manor! You deserve to die!"
Yin Feng glanced inexplicably at the man with red-rimmed eyes who could barely hold his sword, then slowly walked up to him.
Amid tens of thousands of soldiers, atop the ten-zhang-high altar,
the Wind Gate's divine son lifted the face Prince Ning had dreamed of countless times, his expression faintly puzzled. "I took over the body of the heir of the Zhenbei Marquis's manor? What does that have to do with you, Prince Ning?"
1. The pacing will be a little slower than in my last novel, and the tone more lighthearted.
2. As usual, mutual pursuit and a happy ending.
An overworked divine son with anxiety about charging up × a prince with bottomless wealth and power who is hopelessly lovesick
Premise: Fighting for retirement!
