Do I Look Like a God or a Man?

He was a man nearly two meters tall, with a hooked nose and small eyes.

He wore leather shoes that gleamed like rubies and a silk robe embroidered with faint golden patterns. Leaning against a marble colonnade of the academy, his eyes darted around as though searching for something, trying to confirm something.

Those eyes, squeezed into narrow sockets, spotted Zhou Yun.

Then his expression froze, with a trace of surprise mixed into the stiffness, as though he had never expected Zhou Yun to appear here.

But that stiffness and surprise vanished in the next instant, replaced by a delighted smile, as if he were overjoyed to see Zhou Yun.

He changed expressions so quickly that no one but Zhou Yun noticed that momentary stiffness.

"My dear brother." The man bowed extravagantly to Zhou Yun. "You were terribly drunk last night. I was deeply worried. Seeing that you are safe and sound brings me great joy."

Cicero... Zhou Yun recognized the man. He was the scholar Cicero, who had always taken the previous owner of this body to gambling dens.

They had met during Marcus Guilliman's recruitment examination. After losing to Zhou Yun in the test, Cicero had become excessively enthusiastic toward him.

His explanation was that he had been won over by Zhou Yun's learning and could not bear to see a soul as wise as Zhou Yun confined within such rigid, stiff, conservative surroundings.

"Since you are safe and sound, my friend, let us go to the Agate Baths tonight. Priest Libo of Semoneta Church is holding a feast, and it will surely make you feel—"

"He isn't going." Tita stepped between Cicero and Zhou Yun. Her voice was quiet but firm.

Cicero seemed amused by Tita's action.

"Little girl, if you are worried about your uncle, you may come with us as well."

Cicero's tone was remarkably sincere. He put his oratory skills to work, and his voice became compelling.

"I mean it sincerely. Have you read my On the Soul? The soul should not be constrained. A soul descends into this world in order to experience it."

"If you are worthy of enlightenment, then you should understand that you ought not stop your uncle from enjoying himself. You should join him in enjoying yourself."

As he spoke, Cicero approached Tita and Zhou Yun step by step.

Tita spread her arms and stood even more resolutely in front of Zhou Yun.

Tita was not particularly short.

But before Cicero's nearly two-meter height, she seemed so small and fragile.

The sunlight was almost entirely blocked by Cicero's tall, thin body. His shadow crept toward Tita like a venomous snake.

Tita's body trembled despite herself. To drag Zhou Yun off to gamble, Cicero had once incited Zhou Yun to use violence against Tita.

Tita could only hope that Cicero would not dare act in broad daylight.

Yet Cicero paid no heed to the surrounding stares. Smiling, he reached toward Tita, who stood before Zhou Yun...

Tita clenched her teeth, the muscles in her face taut, but she did not move.

For some reason, Zhou Yun suddenly found the scene before him strangely familiar...

A mortal protecting the Emperor...

His temple suddenly throbbed with pain.

Some memories surged forth—memories that belonged neither to the scholar nor to him.

The dim royal court aboard the Revengeful Spirit, the shrieking and laughing Ancient Four, and him...

Memory and reality intertwined. From Zhou Yun's perspective, Cicero's body became incomparably enormous. Black armor covered him from head to toe, while crimson eyes burst from his breastplate with blood-red light.

Blood. The shadow became thick, sticky blood mixed with feathers, spreading to Zhou Yun's feet.

A mortal figure, tiny beside that black silhouette, stood before Zhou Yun. With a rifle in hand, the mortal resolutely opened fire on the nearly godlike black figure...

The black figure raised the warhammer known as Worldbreaker.

No...

By the time Zhou Yun awoke from that memory, his fist had already slammed into Cicero's face. At the same time, he violently raised his leg and kicked Cicero in the abdomen.

Cicero twisted through the air like a long snake flung upward, then crashed heavily onto the ground.

The surroundings fell silent. Students and teachers in the distance stared at the scene in astonishment.

Tita's eyes widened and her mouth fell open. Just now, Zhou Yun had stepped out from behind her at a speed almost too fast for the eye to follow and punched Cicero in the face.

When Cicero's shadow disappeared and sunlight fell over Zhou Yun, Tita almost thought golden light was radiating from him. His figure seemed larger and more dependable, like... like... something imbued with divinity.

Cicero covered his hooked nose, blood constantly seeping through his fingers.

"What are you doing?" He had never expected Zhou Yun to suddenly punch him.

Zhou Yun looked at his fist, at Cicero's blood on it.

Still immersed in the memory from moments ago, he spoke almost instinctively.

"Why did you use your face to hit my fist?"

"Ah... ah... you..."

"Haha... It's fine, it's fine."

Cicero froze for a moment, then laughed while holding his nose, as though Zhou Yun's punch had been a gift bestowed upon him.

"This can also be considered... a novel experience."

"I shall simply assume that my face and your fist happened to collide."

He rose to his feet and brushed the dust from his clothes. Bent over from the pain in his abdomen, his face twisted several times.

Cicero could not help viciously kicking the ground several times with his red leather shoes.

Then he smiled and asked Zhou Yun, "Does this mean you refuse?"

"Of course it means he refuses! Why are you still hanging around here?" Tita once again stood between Cicero and Zhou Yun.

"And what about your debts, my dear brother? If you do not go win them back, how will you settle your debts?" Cicero smiled, adopting a sincere expression.

"If he goes, he'll only owe even more." Tita retorted.

"But at least there is a chance to pay them off, isn't there? He might even earn more."

Cicero seemed amused by Tita.

"And besides, what if you owe even more?"

"When you drink, do your nerves not thrill with excitement from the alcohol?"

"When you gamble, does your heart not pound violently with exhilaration?"

"When you kiss, do your glands not release hormones stirred by entwining tongues?"

"As long as you enjoy yourself, you have already won."

As he spoke, Cicero looked at Zhou Yun.

"My friend, you have a wise mind. Come, listen to what I have to say."

"An infant who dies after one month yet miraculously experiences everything in the world, and an old man who lives to a hundred yet repeats yesterday every day—which one is happier? Would you rather be that infant or that old man?"

"Which is more important: experiencing more or living longer?"

"I choose to seize the day and experience more. After all... tomorrow, we may all be dead."

With that, Cicero went around Tita, patted Zhou Yun on the shoulder, and left the Grammar Academy with a smile.

Zhou Yun watched Cicero's departing back and lightly clenched his fist. Cicero's blood still stained it.

That memory just now... seemed to have been the Emperor's own memory.

Since transmigrating here, this was the first time Zhou Yun had seen the Emperor's own memories.

Based on Zhou Yun's previous experience, as he witnessed the memories originally belonging to the body, he should gradually learn the body's own abilities as well, but...

The yellow-furred creature did not seem to have given him any abilities...

No psychic arts, no immortal physique, no biological knowledge from the Emperor... Could it possibly be the Emperor's MyGO skills?

"Uncle." Tita softly called to Zhou Yun. She looked at his bloodstained fist, surprise on her face as well.

"Tita, do I look like a god or a man?" Zhou Yun turned to Tita and asked with a solemn expression.

Tita's expression froze.

What kind of ridiculous question was that...

"God... man..." Tita looked at Zhou Yun strangely. She was beginning to wonder whether something had gone wrong with her uncle's head.

Seeing Tita's expression, Zhou Yun understood that the Emperor truly had not given him any abilities.

He was still far from the Emperor, that god who walked among mankind. In Tita's eyes, he could at most count as a godman.

Zhou Yun sighed.

"The debt. I'll help you settle the first installment next month."

Tita sighed as well. She seemed to think Zhou Yun was worrying about the debt.

"The compensation my father left behind is enough to cover the first installment."

"...That is your dowry, isn't it?" Zhou Yun raised an eyebrow.

Macragge's marriage customs were rather unusual.

A woman who married without a dowry would hold relatively low status in her husband's household. A wife was equivalent to her husband's property, with no independent personal rights, and only the husband had the right to divorce.

A woman who married with a sufficient dowry, however, would hold much higher status. She had independent personal rights, and the marital relationship was more equal, with husband and wife jointly managing family affairs and property.

Thus, most women from relatively well-off families still chose to marry with a sufficient dowry...

"I'm only lending it to you!" Tita emphasized. "You must promise me that you will not fool around with Cicero again. You must focus entirely on preparing for Lord Marcus's interview and work hard to secure the position as his family tutor."

"Otherwise, forget about my dowry—you will not even be able to repay the debts that follow. You'll be thrown out to become a debt slave."

Zhou Yun looked at Tita and blanked out for a moment. He felt an impulse to go to the Golden Throne, find the scholar's soul, and give him two hard slaps across the face.

"I promise you." Zhou Yun looked at Tita. "But can you do me a small favor?"

Tita froze for a moment. "What?"