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 gleaming like rubies and a silk robe embroidered with faint golden patterns. Leaning against a marble colonnade of the academy, his eyes darted about as if 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 not expected Zhou Yun to appear here.

But that stiffness and surprise vanished the next instant. A delighted smile appeared on his face, making him seem overjoyed to see Zhou Yun.

He changed expressions so quickly that no one but Zhou Yun noticed that brief moment of stiffness.

"My dear brother." The man bowed to Zhou Yun with an exaggerated flourish. "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 Scholar Cicero, the one who had always taken the previous owner of this body to gambling houses.

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

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

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

"He is not going." Tita stepped between Cicero and Zhou Yun, her voice quiet but firm.

Cicero seemed amused by Tita's action.

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

Cicero's tone was exceedingly sincere. He was putting his oratorical talents to work, and his voice became persuasive.

"I am sincere. Have you read my On the Soul? Souls should not be bound. Souls descend into this world in order to experience it."

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

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

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 appeared so small and fragile.

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

Tita's body trembled despite herself. To drag Zhou Yun to the gambling house, Cicero had once urged him to use violence against Tita.

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

Yet Cicero paid no heed to the surrounding gazes. Smiling, he reached his hand 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 familiar...

A mortal protecting the Emperor...

His temple suddenly throbbed with pain.

Memories surged forth, memories that belonged neither to the Scholar nor to him.

The dim throne room aboard the Revengeful Spirit, the screaming and laughing Ancient Four, and him...

Memory and reality intertwined. From Zhou Yun's perspective, Cicero's body became incomparably immense, black armor covering him from head to toe, while crimson eyes burst with bloody light from his breastplate.

Blood. The shadows became viscous blood mixed with feathers, spreading to Zhou Yun's feet.

A mortal body, tiny beside that black figure, stood before Zhou Yun, clutching a rifle and resolutely firing at the nearly divine black figure...

The black figure raised the warhammer called Worldbreaker.

No...

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

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

The surroundings fell silent. Students and teachers nearby stared at the scene in shock.

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

When Cicero's shadow vanished and sunlight fell upon Zhou Yun, Tita almost thought golden light was shining from his body. He seemed larger, dependable, like... like... something divine.

Cicero covered his hooked nose as blood continuously seeped 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 that memory, he spoke almost instinctively.

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

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

"Haha... It is fine, it is fine."

Cicero froze for a moment, then held his nose and laughed, as though Zhou Yun's punch were a gift bestowed upon him.

"This counts as... a novel experience."

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

He got to his feet and brushed the dust from his clothes. Bent over by the pain in his abdomen, his face twisted a few times.

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

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

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

"And what about your debts, my dear brother? If you do not go win the money back, how will you settle them?" Cicero smiled, putting on a sincere expression as he asked.

"Wouldn't going only make him owe even more?" Tita retorted.

"But at least there is a chance to pay them off, is there not? You 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 the excitement alcohol pours into them?"

"When you gamble, does your heart not pound furiously with excitement?"

"When you kiss, do your glands not secrete 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 possess 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 but repeats yesterday every day—which 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, because... tomorrow, we may all die."

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 was still on 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 saw the body's original memories, he should gradually learn the body's skills as well, but...

Yellow Skin did not seem to have given him any skills either...

No psychic arts, no transformation of his physique into that of an immortal, no biological knowledge from the Emperor... It could not possibly be the Emperor's MyGO skills, could it?

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

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

Tita froze.

What kind of question is that...

"God... man..." Tita's expression became strange as she looked at Zhou Yun. 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 skills.

He was still far from the Emperor, that god who walked among men. In Tita's eyes, he could at most be considered a god-man.

Zhou Yun sighed.

"The debt. I will 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 held relatively low status in her household. A wife was regarded as 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, held much higher status. She had independent personal rights, and the marital relationship was more equal, with husband and wife jointly managing household affairs and property.

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

"I am only lending it to you!" Tita emphasized. "You must promise me that you will not fool around with Cicero again. You must devote yourself fully to preparing for Lord Marcus's interview and work hard to become his family tutor."

"Otherwise, forget my dowry—even the debts after that will be beyond your ability to repay. You will have to go become a debt slave."

Zhou Yun looked at Tita and blanked out for a moment. He felt an impulse to find the Scholar's soul on the Golden Throne and give him two vicious slaps.

"I promise you," Zhou Yun said to Tita. "But can you do me a small favor?"

Tita paused. "What?"