Chapter 54: Earthling, Have You Finished Speaking?

As Yao Yuan and his four companions set foot on the path leading to the Celestial Pavilion, their hearts raced uncontrollably, a blend of anxiety and anticipation churning in their chests. The Celestia Priest strode ahead to guide them, his steps brisk, until they reached the doors of the Celestial Pavilion.

He knocked lightly, then gestured for them to proceed.
“The High Priest is inside. You may go in.”
With those words, the Celestia Priest quietly withdrew, leaving the five of them facing the imminent encounter.

Though Yao Yuan and the others harbored a deep aversion toward Shen Xing, the High Priest of the Celestia Sect, their curiosity was irrepressible. They yearned to witness the bearing of the most powerful figure on the planet and to probe the secrets hidden behind his façade.

Upon entering the Celestial Pavilion, they were greeted by the imposing figure of a man in a white robe, his back to them as he gazed thoughtfully out the window. To one side of the room, six young people sat respectfully, their eyes keenly observing the newcomers, causing a flicker of discomfort to pass among Yao Yuan’s group.

It was clear these six were the High Priest’s disciples—known as the Six Divine Attendants.

“Are you Shen Xing, the High Priest of the Celestia Sect?”
Yao Ling’s voice shattered the silence, her tone direct and candid, tinged with a hint of insolence rather than reverence.

Yao Yuan and the others had no objections to her approach; after all, none of them subscribed to the doctrines of the Celestia Sect.
Yet for Ye Lian and the other six disciples, her words grated on their ears, their faces darkening with displeasure. Nevertheless, at Shen Xing’s prior instruction, they suppressed their reactions and maintained their seated composure.

At last, Shen Xing turned to face them.

Before these uninvited guests, his face wore a gentle smile, as mild as a spring breeze.
“Yes, I am Shen Xing.”
When Yao Yuan, Yao Ling, Zhang Yu, Yang Kui, and Peng Wenyan laid eyes upon Shen Xing’s face, they were momentarily stunned.

They were all struck by Shen Xing’s youthfulness. The High Priest, who by all rights should have been in his twilight years, now appeared no older than a man of twenty.

A sense of absurdity surged in their hearts, the reality before them utterly at odds with their expectations of Shen Xing’s age. In their understanding, no matter how well one preserved oneself, a man nearing a hundred should not possess such a youthful visage.

And yet, standing before them, Shen Xing defied their every notion of the passage of time, his nearly unbelievable appearance challenging the very nature of aging itself.

For a full minute, Yao Yuan and his companions stood frozen, their gazes and thoughts locked by Shen Xing’s impossibly young face, before slowly recovering from their shock and regaining their composure.

But their minds brimmed with ever more questions.

On a second Earth whose technological level lagged far behind the original, how could Shen Xing possess the power to reverse aging? Even with the advancements of Earth, at best, consciousness could be preserved through cloning.

Could this Shen Xing be a stand-in? A tool the Celestia Sect used to bewitch the masses and showcase so-called miracles?

Unable to restrain herself, Yao Ling questioned directly, “You’re not the real Shen Xing. The real Shen Xing is eighty-five years old. You’re an imposter, aren’t you?”

Shen Xing’s smile did not waver. He replied serenely,
“I am who I am. But you may not be who you think you are.”

His voice was tranquil, yet carried an unfathomable depth.

Yao Yuan and his companions sensed a condescending pity in Shen Xing’s gaze, as though he regarded them as insignificant insects. The sensation was both elusive and deeply unsettling.

They felt as though Shen Xing saw them as the ignorant rabble of this world, and a flicker of anger rose within them.

“You charlatan, stop your tricks and mysticism! We’re not falling for it!”
Yang Kui glanced at Yao Ling and Peng Wenyan, who both nodded. At once, Yang Kui directed his scathing voice at Shen Xing.

Seeing Yang Kui applying pressure, Zhang Yu promptly joined in. Their task was to provoke an emotional response from this so-called High Priest, granting the two psychologists space for analysis.

“The Celestia Sect’s methods of deceiving the people are crude beyond belief!”
“We’re here today to tear off your sect’s mask of hypocrisy and show everyone that the so-called Star Father is nothing but a lie!”
Their voices rang out sharp and clear, each word a blade aimed at the sect’s falsity and wickedness.

“The Celestia Sect is merely a tool for the power-hungry to rule, enslave, and oppress the people!”
“You hinder society’s progress, bring untold evils into the world, and such a corrupt, villainous religion deserves to be destroyed—so that the people can be freed in body and soul, and truly enjoy liberty!”

Ye Lian and the other six disciples listened to these fierce denunciations with faces growing ever more sullen. A volcano of anger built within them, yet at Shen Xing’s earlier command, they forced it down.

Shen Xing’s smile lingered, but a trace of mockery now glimmered in his eyes.

Yao Ling and Peng Wenyan remained silent, for their role was to craft a psychological profile of the High Priest under these circumstances.

Yet the High Priest’s composure was so absolute, so placid, that they began to doubt their own psychological expertise.

In psychology, microexpressions—those fleeting involuntary facial movements that surface in response to emotional triggers—reveal a person’s true feelings. Most people, when expressing themselves, inadvertently “leak” additional information in the depths or transitions of their expressions. These microexpressions flash by in an instant, so subtle that even those making or observing them rarely notice.

In psychological experiments, only about ten percent of people can reliably detect these subtle cues in conversation.

Yao Ling and Peng Wenyan were among that rare few—their skills could rightly be called mind reading.

When Yao Ling live-streamed to Natasha, she could tell that Natasha’s show of anger was feigned beneath the surface, prompting her to escalate her provocations.

Yet, before her now, the High Priest seemed utterly “inauthentic.” After the brain receives auditory signals, even if one consciously controls their microexpressions, there will always be a momentary slip—a fleeting muscle movement. But this High Priest’s face was as unmoving and inscrutable as a mask.

Was he an empty shell, devoid of emotion, or someone with superhuman control over every facial muscle?

For the first time, Yao Ling doubted her own professional skills. She turned to look at Peng Wenyan, who shook her head, face pale.

Yao Yuan noticed the psychologists’ reactions and quickly stepped forward to steady Zhang Yu and Yang Kui, who were still pressing their offensive.

Zhang Yu and Yang Kui, seeing the defeated looks on Yao Ling and Peng Wenyan’s faces, were first startled, and then their hands instinctively moved toward the energy pistols at their waists.

After that barrage, they had assumed even the most composed person would lose control. Yet, to their astonishment, the High Priest maintained his gentle smile. When the two finally fell silent, he at last spoke.

His simple words landed like a hammer blow upon the hearts of the five.

“Earthlings, have you finished?”