A Crime Like Yesterday

In the first year of the Tianqi era, the gods descended.

The world was split into countless fragments by walls of light, and fourteen gods brought down a game of faith: indulge in one of the Seven Sins to survive, or observe the precepts of one of the Seven Virtues to survive. Each trial lasted seven days. Those who cleared it received a blessing; those who failed were erased.

Zhen Yan had no faith.

He was an ordinary nobody, the kind of man a cultivator would turn away at the grain window, snatch back his wooden token, and sneer, "No stamp? Get lost." To stay alive, he found a scrap of copper and carved a fake [Compassion] brand into his palm. From then on, he had old rice, water, and a fake identity as an "ascetic priest."

He thought he could keep up the act until he died and that would be the end of it.

Until the trial at the Court of All Sins. The God of Pride put him on trial: "What is your greatest sin?"

He looked up and smiled. "My greatest sin is that I fooled everyone."

After that day, the God of Pride wanted him burdened with every sin, while the God of Humility wanted him to be a shield forever. Two gods had chosen the fake priest with the counterfeit brand on his palm.

Zhen Yan clenched both brands inside his sleeve.

I won't take either side. I'll stand in the middle.

From the Court of All Sins to the Feast of Gluttony, from the Temple of Chastity to the Maze of Sloth, he relied on his silver tongue to rescue the innocent from the executioner's block right under the noses of fourteen gods, dump divine blessings into a slop bucket, and feed "desire" to man-eating ghouls.

He could no longer remember the taste of the noodles his mother made.

But he remembered one thing: this mouth of his had fooled the gods, the courts, and everyone else, but it would never fool his own people.

Sin is yesterday's news; today, he laughs at it.