At the age of 170,000, he ascended to godhood, becoming the youngest High God in the Upper Realm.
On the day of his ascension ceremony, he stood atop the high dais and received the worship of countless immortals. The world called him the Divine Lord Jicang.
A taciturn older brother shielded him from every gaze; a gentle and calculating older brother paved every road for him. But the wounds brought back from the Northern Border, the sandalwood box delivered in the dead of night, and the words spoken at the banquet, “The one most likely to succeed is still the young prince,” all quietly wove a web in the shadows, ensnaring all three of them.
He was originally a ray of light formed from a prayer, born on Mount Cangwu as disease spread. Countless people lifted him up, giving him shape. Now he has returned to that mountain and stands before his own golden likeness, hearing the incense offerings throughout the hall speak on his behalf.
Above the Upper Realm's Five Cities, some want power, some want life, and some want a place they can never return to.
And as he stands at the edge of the high dais, looking down at the bowed figures below, he suddenly feels that it has all happened too fast.
The ascension ceremony is over. The real show has only just begun.
Theme: The common good or the individual
