I hadn’t even finished explaining before Lian’s voice, clear and smooth as jade, drifted from ahead.

  “And how would you know that ghost only bites the ones who walk too neatly?”

  My heart lurched. I forced a smile.

  “Ah, I just… saw it limping funny, so I thought I’d—uh—try copying it.”

  “Copying it that precisely?” He stopped, turned his head, and gave me a look that was gentle in tone, but cold enough to freeze rivers.

  “You wouldn’t happen to already know where that creature came from, would you?”

  Before I could stammer out an excuse, Hua—ever the opportunist—jumped in with a laugh.

  “Yeah, how come you nailed that ‘ghost step’ so perfectly? Be honest, did you secretly study some forbidden geomancy art?”

  My temple twitched. I forced a grin, but inside I was screaming:

  System! Where the hell are you—save me!

  System prompt: “If the host discloses system-related information, the Mad Ramble Punishment Protocol will be automatically triggered.”

  “...”

  I swear, my throat locked up so tight I nearly triggered it myself.

  Coughing to regain some dignity, I improvised:

  “Actually… when I fell off that cliff, something strange did happen.”

  “Oh?” Hua Shang perked up. “Did you meet an immortal?”

  My eyes darted. “Not exactly an immortal… more like… a glowing book.”

  “A book?” Lian’s voice was soft, but it pierced straight through me. “What kind of book?”

  “I didn’t catch the title—it flew right to my forehead. Next thing I knew, lightning struck, and bam!—I woke up able to see life and death, dodge misfortune, and predict fate itself.”

  “You mean you opened your heavenly eye?” Hua said, doubtful.

  “Yes! Exactly that!” I nodded like a broken puppet.

  Truth be told, I once thought my destiny was about to change—

  that I’d found the Legendary Ancient Manual, unlocked hidden powers, and would soon walk the world like a main character.

  Instead?

  When I jumped off that cliff, I nearly turned my insides into soup—and all I got for my trouble was a sarcastic system that told me:

  “You are a Special Trash-Type Male Lead. Cliff-jumping has triggered the Non-Typical Destiny Route.

  No cultivation method. No beauty companion. No immortality.

  Current state: Survival Mode.”

  That was when I realized—

  my fate wasn’t “Heaven itself helps me rise”… it was “Everyone gets to step on me once.”

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  The true protagonist conquers worlds with a single sword.

  Me? I’m just trying not to sneeze on my broken ribs.

  Lian was silent for a long moment, then said mildly,

  “So that’s how it is.”

  Something in his tone told me he didn’t buy a single word—but couldn’t be bothered to expose me.

  The morning mist still hung low. Birdsong trickled through the trees. A stray beam of sunlight slipped over the ridge, giving our shabby lodging the illusion of a divine temple—if “divine” meant “two leaks and a draft.”

  I was just wondering where to scavenge breakfast when drums and flutes suddenly erupted from the village entrance.

  I jumped. “What now?”

  Lian frowned. “Does this village… always celebrate at dawn?”

  Before I could answer, a beaming old man in a flowered jacket came running up, leading a crowd of barefoot children.

  “Honored heroes!” he cried. “Please ascend the altar and receive our offering!”

  “...What?”

  He pointed reverently to three bright-red altars by the gate.

  “Our village has long suffered disappearances. The ancestors foretold that only three strangers with different gaits could save us! Last night’s thunderous footwork proved your divine might. We’ve prepared offerings and beg you, noble ones, to remain and bless our lands as the Three Gods of Feet!”

  At the words Gods of Feet, the back of my neck went cold.

  Hua, of course, grinned.

  “How long would that blessing last?”

  “Er… eighty-one days… though that’s negotiable…”

  “Yeah, let’s not.”

  I grabbed both of them by the sleeves. “Thanks, but no thanks—we’re busy, goodbye—”

  Too late.

  A few sturdy aunties had already dragged out three half-finished statues—each modeled perfectly after us.

  One serene, one waving a fan, one grimacing mid-sneeze.

  Mortifying. Absolutely mortifying.

  System! I screamed internally.

  Explain this!

  System prompt: “Due to excessive out-of-character behavior, the villagers have activated the Deification of NPCs side quest.

  New mission: Escape from Qushan Village.”

  My knees went weak. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  I hadn’t come this far to become some barefoot god of bad posture!

  Lian coughed softly, as though hiding a laugh.

  “Well then, Your Divinity… any divine insight on what we should do next?”

  That tone. That smile. That trap.

  “Maybe we… uh… split up?”

  Too late again—two firm grips clamped down on my shoulders.

  “Come now, our dear God,” Lian murmured, all warmth and gentle menace.

  Hua added, fanning himself lazily, “Yes, Your Holiness. Let’s not keep your worshippers waiting.”

  I’m doomed.

  “Wait, you two—”

  Before I could protest, Lian’s fingers brushed my palm twice short, once long—our secret signal.

  Fake along. Wait for the right time.

  Oh thank the heavens. They were acting.

  The only one losing his mind here… was me.

  “Kneel and welcome the gods!”

  “Present the Three Sacred Treasures!”

  “May our footsteps ever… wobble—uh, walk smoothly!”

  I was ushered onto a creaky old chair they called the Divine Seat—red paint, crooked legs, and two ominous carvings labeled Long Foot and Short Foot.

  I eyed it warily.

  Why did it look less like a chair and more like a trap?

  Click.

  A thin red thread snaked from the backrest down to the floor, straight into the altar’s center.

  The blood pattern glowed.

  My stomach dropped.

  System prompt: “Warning: Host is about to trigger Secondary Sacrifice Quest. Proceed with caution.”

  “I’ll proceed you to hell!” I shouted. “Didn’t I already clear this stupid arc?!”

  “Multi-stage chain quest,” said the system blandly. “Next phase: now active.”

  Before I could explode, Hua Shang leaned close and muttered,

  “The ritual’s unstable. We’ll only get one shot at breaking it.”

  “What’s the plan?” I hissed.

  “I calculated the odds—you act first.”

  “Wait, what?—”

  “Not yet,” Lian interrupted softly, eyes fixed on the glowing sigil. “Let’s see what’s in those ‘sacred treasures’ first.”

  Three items were carried up on a silk tray:

  a redwood box, a cracked clay jar, and… a handkerchief embroidered with footprints.

  “...You’re kidding me.”

  “These are the treasures?” Hua muttered. “What are they, lost and found?”

  “Quiet.”

  Lian crouched near the array, his gaze sharp.

  “Not a summoning array,” he murmured. “A sealing one.”

  “Sealing what?” I asked.

  He hesitated, then met my eyes.

  “Most likely… you.”

  I froze. “Then I resign! End the ritual! I quit being the God of Feet!”