Chapter 671: Jerusalem: 1

Jerusalem: 1

The rented room's light was warm and yellow.

Yu Lin sat on the edge of the bed, clutching the crumpled medical exam report in his hand.

The four characters "Late-stage stomach cancer" were starkly obvious.

Outside, the city remained noisy—car horns, the shouts of the barbecue stall downstairs, the oily aroma mixing in, all seeping through the window cracks; everything felt so vivid, so—normal.

And his world collapsed the moment they announced the diagnosis!

I'm only eighteen.

Yu Lin tossed the report onto the nightstand and flopped onto the bed piled with dirty clothes.

The ceiling light tube flickered intermittently, like the hallway light that forever glows outside an ICU ward.

He had seen that light in a hospital.

Back then he still thought the term "stomach cancer" was far from him.

As distant as something on another planet.

He turned over, buried his face in the pillow, and said in a muffled voice:

Twelve years of hard study… got into university, a new life about to begin.

Damn, this cursed world!

The pillow smelled of laundry detergent—the kind bought on sale at the supermarket for 9.9 yuan a bottle.

He kept meticulous count of every cent earned from part‑time jobs, thinking about studying, about buying things.............

Now that money still lay quietly in his phone balance.

And he might not live to see the start of school.

Sigh…

A long sigh, as if he squeezed every breath out of his chest.

Yu Lin lay for a long time, long enough for the light to flash repeatedly, while customers came and went at the barbecue stall outside.

He finally moved.

It wasn't to call anyone or write a will.

He couldn't do any of those calm‑ending things.

He simply reached out and grabbed his phone from the bedside.

His thumb swiped the screen, opening the green payment app.

Balance: 7,346 yuan.

This was the total savings he scraped together between the bubble‑tea shop, the courier station, tutoring, and handing out flyers.

But.

Now is the "accept fate" stage.

Live one day at a time.

Tonight I'll spend all the savings I earned from part‑time work.

He gritted his teeth, his voice a little fierce.

At least—

His words cut off abruptly.

As if someone pressed the pause button.

The light in the rented room stopped flickering, the sounds outside suddenly faded, and time seemed to slow by half a beat at that moment.

Yu Lin's pupils suddenly dilated.

In his mind, within the boundless dark void, a white light suddenly lit up.

The light didn't come from outside but surged from deep within his consciousness, like something that had slept for millions of years finally opening its eyes!

Pure white radiance spread across his mind, like the first ray of light at dawn piercing the eternal night.

He saw a book.

Its whole body was snow‑white, the cover plain and simple, three large characters floated on it—

【Myth Book】

The pages turned on their own, from closed to open, emitting a distant sigh as if from the primeval ages.

Words surged like golden spring water, each stroke engraving into his consciousness:

【Myth Book Unseal】

【Task:】

【Steal Jesus's corpse】

【Reward: One of Jesus's random traits】

【Temporary Ability: Feather Divine Valor (once)】

【Feather Divine Valor: Instantly gain two hours of Xiang Yu's full abilities (Feather Divine Valor, unparalleled)】

Immediately, more text appeared:

【Enter the task?】

【Upon entering, gain knowledge of the current era, and Twelve Bolts of Silk】

Yu Lin was stunned.

He remained half‑sitting on the bed, phone still clenched in his hand, the balance number on the screen not yet dimmed.

In his mind, that snow‑white book hovered silently, as if waiting for his response.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

"Good!"

Yu Lin sprang up from the bed, the dead‑gray on his face swept away, replaced by excitement!

"My cheat has finally been unlocked!"

He swung his fist hard, striking the air, and the medical report on the nightstand trembled and fell to the floor.

The page about his late‑stage stomach cancer turned face‑down, as if embarrassed to show its face again.

Yu Lin didn't glance at it at all.

All his attention was on the "Myth Book" in his mind.

"Jesus... steal Jesus's corpse... Jerusalem around AD 33..." he muttered at breakneck speed, his brain whirring like a wound spring.

The person who three seconds ago was pondering how to spend his last money now even had a different look in his eyes.

It was the light that only a dying person sees when a lifeline appears.

No, it's not just a lifeline.

It was a person sentenced to death suddenly seeing a door.

A door leading to another world.

The mission is to steal Jesus's corpse, and the reward is one of Jesus's random traits.

What traits does Jesus have?

Resurrection.

Jesus has resurrected!

As long as we can obtain this trait.............

The thought struck Yu Lin's mind like a bolt of lightning; his whole body froze, then his breathing quickened.

He wasn't sure whether "random traits" included resurrection, nor how valuable the reward from the "Myth Book" truly was.

But—what if?

Even if there's no resurrection, what other traits does Jesus have?

Healing? Divine Miracle? Even just a one‑percent chance…

For someone with late‑stage stomach cancer, any possibility of a Son of God trait is far better than waiting to die in this rented room!

"Calm down, calm down."

Yu Lin took a deep breath, forcing himself to pull reason back from ecstasy.

He stared at the pages of the "Myth Book" in his mind, rereading them word by word.

Mission location: Jerusalem, around AD 33.

Mission objective: steal Jesus's corpse.

Pre‑mission benefit: upon entry, gain contemporary knowledge and Twelve Bolts of Silk.

Temporary ability: one use of "Feather Divine Valor" (two‑hour full Xiang Yu capability).

"Silk..." Yu Lin squinted.

He rapidly searched his mind for knowledge about Jesus's Passion.

Although school doesn't specialize in religious history, extracurricular books and marginal notes in history textbooks gave him enough to piece together a rough outline.

Jesus was nailed to the cross, buried in the wealthy Yuese's new tomb, and rose on the third day.

What he must do is act before Jesus's resurrection, or rather before the disciples discover the tomb empty.

Steal the corpse.

"The difficulty is..." Yu Lin frowned, "the tomb is guarded."

He vaguely recalled that Pontius Pilate, at the request of the High Priest and the Pharisees, sent soldiers to guard the tomb and sealed the entrance with a stone.

An ordinary person couldn't even get close, let alone steal a corpse.

But "Feather Divine Valor" can solve this problem.

Who is Xiang Yu? A man whose strength can lift a cauldron, an enemy of ten thousand.

Two hours of Xiang Yu's full capability means he could unleash crushing force in that age of cold weapons!

But this is a last resort.

"If you can avoid acting, don't act," Yu Lin muttered to himself, "once you act it's easy to expose your identity, and if you're taken as a tomb‑raider or heretic… the mission is doomed."

He needs a disguise.

Fortunately, the "Myth Book" provides knowledge of the era, including language, customs, and geographic information.

That solves the biggest information gap.

Twelve Bolts of Silk—this is his seed capital and proof of identity.

In first‑century Jerusalem, silk was an exotic luxury; someone who could produce Twelve Bolts of Silk was at least a reputable merchant.

Such a status would let him mingle in high society, approach Jesus's disciples, and even get near the tomb district.

"One more issue..." Yu Lin's finger paused, "the Time Point."

He didn't know which exact day after entry.

If it's before Jesus's Passion, he has time to plan, possibly approach Jesus or his disciples directly, build trust as a merchant, then act when the chance arises.

If it's after Jesus has been nailed, the window is tight—he must get the corpse before the resurrection!

"Can't gamble, must have multiple preparations."

Yu Lin dug out an old backpack from under the bed and began stuffing things into it.

He took a few fruit knives he had bought, their steel edges decent, and packed them into the innermost layer.

A few disposable lighters, wrapped in a plastic bag, waterproof.

A small packet of salt, for sterilizing, seasoning, and can serve as hard currency in emergencies.

A needle‑and‑thread kit, fishing line, fishhooks—basic wilderness survival kit.

Finally, he also stuffed his phone inside.

Bringing an extra of something is just the same.

He remembered something else, and pulled a small notebook and a pen from the drawer.

He first wrote a few lines in the notebook:

"Jesus crucifixion time: around the Jewish Passover"

"Burial site: the rich Yuese's new tomb"

"Guard: Roman soldier? Sent by the High Priest?"

"Key figures: Jesus' disciples (Peter, John, etc.), Yuese, Nicodemus.............."

"Risks: being discovered as an outsider, language barrier (but the Myth Book provides knowledge, so cross that out), identity exposure, being hunted after taking action"

After writing, he stared at the notebook for a while, then added another line:

"Don't forget— you have no other choice now."

Yu Lin shoved the notebook back, suddenly remembered something, bent down and picked up the medical report from the ground.

Late‑stage stomach cancer.

The four big characters still glare painfully.

But his feeling when looking at those four characters now is completely different from three minutes ago.

Three minutes ago, it was a death sentence.

Now, it's just a piece of paper!

"One of the random traits…" Yu Lin folded the report, folded it again, finally slipped it into a pocket of his old schoolbag, murmuring, "I don't hope for resurrection; a cure would do............."

A smile tugged at his mouth, then quickly faded.

He sat back on the edge of the bed, closed his eyes, and said to the Myth Book in his mind:

"Enter."

This time, his voice did not hesitate.

WhiteLight exploded in his consciousness.

Warm, soft, like being wrapped in something.

Yu Lin felt himself falling, yet also rising.

His sense of direction vanished, time grew vague, and only the Myth Book floated at the center of his vision, its pages turning, golden letters streaming into his brain like flowing light—

Basic Aramaic grammar, Jerusalem street maps, the Roman Empire's governance structure in Judea Province, Judaism's purification rites, Temple Mount layout, who the current magistrate is, market prices, which words may be spoken and which may not…

The massive influx of information poured into his mind like a breached dam, yet caused no discomfort.

Those unfamiliar vocabularies, grammars, customs automatically categorized, tagged, and stored in his mind, as naturally as if he had lived in that era since birth.

When he opened his eyes again.

The sunlight was blinding.

The noon sun hung high over Jerusalem.

A dry wind brushed his face, carrying a mix of dust, spices, and livestock dung.

In the distance, the Temple's golden dome glittered under the blue sky; nearby, pedestrians in flowing white robes came and went.

Yu Lin lowered his head.

He wore a coarse linen robe, a cloth belt at his waist, and simple straw sandals.

Beside him, neatly stacked, were Twelve Bolts of Silk, shimmering softly in the sunlight.

He licked his lips with his tongue, found an unfamiliar language on the tip, and tried to speak:

"I... am in Jerusalem."

His voice was hoarse, but indeed the local tongue.

Yu Lin inhaled deeply, the dry heat wave flooding his lungs.

He lifted his head, gazed toward the Temple, then toward the various directions beyond the city walls—the place said to witness death and resurrection.

He bent down, cradled the Twelve Bolts of Silk, and walked toward the market, a slow smile rising at his mouth.

"Jesus."

He whispered the name, his gaze heavy.

"Wait for me."

After nearly eight months.

Nearly 1.5 million words, Wandering Myth reached its final chapter.

Neither too long nor too short.

In those eight months, this book kept me company through many late nights, and accompanied many readers from the first chapter to the end.

Thanks to every patron, reviewer, and silent follower; your presence gave me the drive to finish this story and the courage to write it until I am satisfied.

As the author, I have also walked a long road.

From the initially awkward dialogues to gradually finding rhythm, from thin plotlines to increasingly rich character relationships, each update has been a lesson.

After all, this was my first attempt at this genre; honestly, researching was truly painful.

Especially since many sources contradicted each other, yet after half a day of searching I found they were all correct—so despairing, huh.

But that also allowed me to see various mythic stories and figures.

It's just that, limited by chapters and an immature initial concept, many things I wanted to write remain unwritten.

I will, just like today, keep adding from time to time until the story is complete!

The end.

I am most grateful to all of you who have accompanied Wandering Myth to this point.

See you in the next book.

The new book was already conceived earlier, and I tried writing some of it; later I refined it a lot. It is now released, and in a few days it will be regularly updated.

The very final.

May your lives be as brilliant as a myth.

—Love you all, Yang, May 10, 2026