Because of this sudden turn of events, He Zhuoming stood frozen in place, utterly bewildered, unable to utter a sound for a long time.
She didn’t for a second think she might have stumbled onto a film set; she quickly concluded that she must have transmigrated. And because of her strange attire, the passersby on both sides began casting glances at her and whispering amongst themselves.
He Zhuoming stood there, back-strapped schoolbag on, wearing a school uniform, her hair neatly braided. She stuck out like a section of ancient Chinese music spliced onto the soundtrack of a radio gymnastics exercise.
The gazes assessing her grew denser and more intense, and she hurried away at a light jog. But being completely lost on an unfamiliar street, she had no idea where to go, so she just walked aimlessly along the street where she had first arrived.
As she marched along, she searched blankly for how she could have transmigrated: she hadn’t been hit by a car, she hadn’t died from over-studying, nor had she met a strange old man or woman on the road gifting her jade pendants… There was no reason for her to have transmigrated!
Could it be because she had left a few extra mean comments about the male lead in the review sections while secretly reading web novels lately?
This thought flashed through her mind, but she didn’t take it seriously, let alone realize that she hadn’t just transmigrated through time, but into a book.
Just as she was wandering aimlessly, two burly men suddenly jumped out, grabbed her schoolbag straps, and dragged her into a nearby dead-end alley. He Zhuoming staggered from the pull, and the moment the men let go, she tumbled to the ground.
By the time she scrambled up in a panic, the two men were standing side-by-side at the alley entrance, blocking the only exit completely. One of them growled, “Robbery! If you’re smart, hand over everything of value you’ve got!”
He Zhuoming’s face fell and tears began to stream down; not daring to wipe them away, she tremblingly pulled a school cafeteria meal card, a bus card, and an opened pack of tissues from her coat pocket…
Before she could finish emptying her pockets, the burly man slapped the assorted junk out of her hand in a fit of rage, cursing, “Who wants this garbage? I want something valuable!”
“I—I don’t have anything, wuu—I just use my bus card when I go out, wuu—”
The two men exchanged glances. One of them pointed at the hair clip on her head. “Don’t try to fool us! First, take off that jewelry on your head—”
Before he could finish, he was violently ambushed from behind, his head struck by a wooden club. He collapsed with a howl. His companion, stunned, turned back, only to have a cloud of red powder flung directly into his face, causing him to cover his eyes, roll on the ground, and wail.
While terrified by the sudden situation, He Zhuoming quickly scrambled over the two men and bolted out of the alley. The youth who had helped didn’t expect her to be so quick; he originally intended to grab her wrist, but missed, so he had to run after her.
The two ran for a great distance without stopping, only finally sitting down on the ground to catch their breath when He Zhuoming was completely exhausted.
The youth who had helped her out of the goodness of his heart was the younger version of the villain—though at first, He Zhuoming didn’t recognize him as such. The reason, once again, was that the male-oriented novels’ descriptions of male character appearances were too abysmal…
The youth told He Zhuoming that he lived nearby and made a living running errands and delivering goods.
He had finished his work for the day and was on his way home to eat when he saw two notorious local thugs sneakily following her. Worried they had malicious intentions, he followed them—and when they acted in the secluded area, he seized the chance to intervene…
He Zhuoming was recounting the experience of her transmigration—minus the actual transmigration part—to Lin Qingyun, from beginning to end.
Lin Qingyun suddenly raised a hand to stop her. “Wait. By your account, you never met Tang Shuayu before. So how did you recognize him as Tang Shuayu? Did he tell you himself?”
“Of course I asked him!”
“How did you ask?”
“I just asked if he was called Tang Shuayu, and he admitted it.”
Lin Qingyun found this even stranger. “You’d never met him; why would you suspect a random stranger was Tang Shuayu?”
He Zhuoming waved her hands, looking dejected. “That brings up another matter—I told you this before! I don’t know if I was starved half-to-death in the village or if that Corrupt Deity used some dark magic on me… but it made my memories all fuzzy…”
“But when I first arrived, my memory was much clearer! I still remembered some characteristics of Tang Shuayu, and he happened to match all of them! So I just asked! And once I asked, he admitted it, and the other traits matched too…”
Lin Qingyun raised an eyebrow. “What characteristics?”
“I forgot—my memory is fuzzy now. In any case, that bastard played the nice guy to save me, so I told him I was here looking for relatives and didn’t know where they were yet. He said he lived nearby and invited me to sit for a bit, eat something, and he’d help me find them…”
“What relatives?” Lin Qingyun sneered.
“Finding them was a lie; but he was my savior then, and I’d been running for so long my throat was burning—I thought sitting for a bit would be fine, and he didn’t seem like a bad person… Who could have known! This bastard is all gilded on the outside, but rotten to the core!”
“The moment I arrived, I drank a cup of water he poured, and I felt drowsy and fell asleep immediately.”
Lin Qingyun took over the story. “And when you woke up, you found yourself sold to villagers who enshrined a Corrupt Deity.”
He Zhuoming nodded repeatedly, shaking her fists and fuming. “He even stole my schoolbag! My coat! And my necklace!”
Lin Qingyun hypocritically agreed, mimicking the tone she had used earlier to accuse the sect of corruption. “How could he do such a thing!”
“If I catch him, and he can’t beat both of us, he’s a dead man!”
Lin Qingyun clenched his fists along with her, repeating with a smile, “Dead man!”
He changed one character, but He Zhuoming was too caught up in her anger to notice, simply thinking that Lin Qingyun was indeed a fine, young man who loathed evil.
The two soon reached a main thoroughfare—though she didn’t realize it, only seeing it as a slightly wider dirt road, completely lacking any pavement tiles.
The road was bustling with people, and because the sun hadn’t been up long, many breakfast stalls were still set up.
Feeling a bit hungry, she touched her bundle and beckoned to Lin Qingyun—who merely raised an eyebrow, unmoved.
Irritated by his sluggishness, she grabbed his arm and yanked it downward. Seeing her straining so hard she might as well have jumped, he found it amusing and, without resisting, obediently bent down in front of her.
He Zhuoming leaned close to his ear. “I have a piece of gold in my bundle this big… it’s this big.”
She stretched out her loosely gripped fist to show him. “How much money can a piece of gold this size get?”
Lin Qingyun looked at her fist, pondered for a moment, and made a fist of his own, placing it next to hers.
She saw it, didn’t understand, but instinctively bumped her fist against his.
Lin Qingyun laughed, his eyes crinkling. He uncurled his fist and answered, “Judging size isn’t accurate. Gold is too soft; you have to weigh it in your hand to know what it’s worth. What do you want to exchange the gold for?”
“Buying you a meal—I need to eat, too. I’m starving. But there are too many people here; should we find somewhere empty…”
Lin Qingyun snapped his fingers. “What a coincidence, I know just the place for some privacy.”
He led the way, guiding her along the main road for a while longer.
The dirt road, packed firm by countless feet, gradually turned into more refined stone slab paving. The pedestrians grew sparse, and the breakfast stalls disappeared. Instead, the surrounding walls grew taller, and the eaves became increasingly ornate.
The tiles on some of the roofs shimmered, flashing like glass in the sun, making He Zhuoming’s eyes ache.
She hurriedly looked away and rubbed her eyes quietly.
Finally, they stopped in front of a pair of massive, symmetrical vermilion doors, with a stone beast crouching on each side. He Zhuoming leaned in to look at the stone beast’s open mouth, only to find that despite the carved tongue and sharp teeth, there was no ball inside.
Before anyone could knock, the main gate opened on its own—the sound startled her, and she immediately jumped back to Lin Qingyun’s side. Seeing his calm expression, she whispered, “Your place?”
“Just a place to stay,” he replied blandly.
He Zhuoming looked up at the vermilion doors and white walls, and the upturned eaves behind them, where a string of unidentified animal statues crouched along the ridge.
“This place doesn’t look like an inn,” she said nervously.
“I did spend a fortune to register my name at an orthodox sect, after all,” he whispered in cooperation.
Her mind raced, and she had an epiphany. “Oh, oh! Public property of the sect?”
Lin Qingyun smiled, neither confirming nor denying. “Xiao He is so clever.”
Two rows of people, men and women, all neatly and cleanly dressed, greeted them from inside. Seeing strangers, she couldn’t help hiding behind Lin Qingyun, observing them with great vigilance.
Lin Qingyun led her inside—beyond the gate lay a perfectly square courtyard with walkways and corridors. The open ground was filled with crabapple trees, their various colors blooming in defiance of the season, their sweet fragrance permeating the entire courtyard.
She peered left and right, curious. Though she thought the crabapple flowers were pretty, she didn’t find the courtyard’s scenery particularly special and felt no urge to even gasp in wonder.
After all, having grown up in a historical context, even with immortals, their creation skills were nowhere near industrial society—at the very least, the visual impact of this courtyard was far inferior to the Oriental Pearl Tower or Pudong Airport.
As for that pile of off-season crabapple flowers… every year in elementary school, she had to visit botanical gardens or flower shows and write a 600-word review after, so it was hard for her to have any emotional reaction to them.
Lin Qingyun pointed to a nearby girl. “You, take her to get something to eat, wash up, change into some clothes, and redo her hair.”
The young girl in the white dress responded softly, her eyelashes lowered from start to finish, never meeting Lin Qingyun’s gaze.
She glided lightly to He Zhuoming. “Please come with me, miss.”
She completely blocked her from observing the surroundings. He Zhuoming hesitated, turning her head toward Lin Qingyun.
He smiled, reassuring her. “Sect benefits; use them or lose them.”
Only then did she release his sleeve and follow the girl.
Watching the two disappear into the twisting, covered corridors, the smile on Lin Qingyun’s face faded.
With his hands tucked into his sleeves, he walked through the dense crabapple trees. The low-hanging branches automatically retreated as he approached, and the falling petals likewise avoided him—the attendants trailing behind him even kept their distance from the youth’s shadow.
Everyone kept their heads down, holding their breath, determined to minimize their presence. They matched their stride exactly, fearful of becoming the conspicuous, unlucky soul he might single out.
The youth walked along, issuing orders in a soft voice. “Find someone. He is in Wen County. He used my name and left traces. Bring him before me.”
The person at the front of the group acknowledged the order and broke away, exhaling silently as they left.
Since the boss was willing to give them work, it meant there was no danger today. Hooray!
Hot springs! Huge hot springs! Huge open-air hot springs!
Soaking in the hot spring, He Zhuoming felt her entire being float away in bliss—she would never again call a major sect corrupt!
If major sects weren’t corrupt, how could Qingyun register his name there? If Qingyun couldn’t register his name, how could she be soaking in a hot spring in the sect’s dormitory?
Leaning against the warm stones at the edge of the spring, she scooped up a handful of hot water and splashed it on her face, feeling as though she had come back to life.
There were also gentle, pretty girls in white dresses serving her fruit and snacks.
She didn’t have to lift a finger to eat; the snacks and fruit were all cut into small pieces, and two of the girls knelt halfway at the edge of the spring, one on each side, holding dishes and feeding her with gentle movements.
The girls were perfect in every way, except they didn’t like to talk. No matter what she said, they only smiled at her—at most nodding or shaking their heads.
It made her wonder if they were mutes, but one of them had clearly spoken when she was leading the way earlier.
After the bath, the two brought out a gown in shades of green and moon-white for her to change into.
It was an incredibly complex set of clothes, with seven or eight straps alone to be tied around her body. She was directed by them, lifting her arms one moment and turning the next, feeling quite dizzy from the ordeal.
Moreover, the skirt was far too long—she was used to wearing pants and felt very uncomfortable in such a floor-length dress, constantly bowing her head to lift the hem.
The girls pushed a massive bronze mirror before her, and when she saw her reflection, she couldn’t help spinning around and leaning in closer: it was the first time she’d seen herself in ancient attire in a mirror.
It was a bit strange—the skirt was so long, so many straps, and her hair was a bit short, but it also looked rather good.
Thinking this, she combed her hair in front of the mirror.
A girl in white, holding a comb, stepped behind her and spoke softly, “Please sit down; let me style it for you.”
“Okay,” she replied, sitting down cross-legged while lifting her hem. Feeling the ground was too cold, she quietly bunched the hem up and tucked it under her behind for padding.
Since the girl had spoken, she couldn’t resist chatting. “Sister, do you work here? What’s your salary… how much do you get paid every month?”
Thanks to Lin Qingyun always flicking her head, she couldn’t help but look at the other person’s eyes whenever she talked.
However, she felt a hand press on her head again—the girl pushed her head to straighten her up; this way, she couldn’t see the girl’s face, only her reflection in the mirror.
Not only were she and the girl there, but also the girl in white, smiling silently at the mirror.
She understood: this meant the girl wouldn’t answer her.
The girl’s combing motions were very slow, making He Zhuoming feel drowsy.
Cupping her face, she looked at the bronze mirror, watching as the other person styled her short-ish hair into a decent bun.
Suddenly, a vague figure appeared at the doorway in the reflection—He Zhuoming, who had been so bored she was counting the patterns on the mirror frame, saw an acquaintance and shouted joyfully: “Qingyun, Qingyun, Qing—ouch!”