She had indeed mentioned to Lin Qingyun yesterday that she was leaving the mountains to find her relatives—but yesterday was yesterday, and today was today. People were naturally subject to change.
Dawdling over to the piebald horse, He Zhuoming feigned interest in the woven vine saddle on its back and said, “A-am I going alone? Didn’t you just say that foul deities usually draw clusters of wicked spirits and ghosts around them… What if I encounter one along the way?”
Lin Qingyun replied, “Qingyang will avoid them.”
He Zhuoming pushed, “Then—then what if, by chance, he doesn’t avoid them?”
Lin Qingyun offered a warm smile. “Qingyang is very clever; you don’t need to worry about that.”
His response was entirely earnest, leaving He Zhuoming unable to come up with a single counterargument despite wracking her brain. It was only when her peripheral vision caught the iron shovel in his hand that she gave a dry cough and stiffly shifted the subject: “What are you holding that shovel for?”
Lin Qingyun explained to her with unyielding patience: “Didn’t I tell you yesterday? The deceased deserve respect; I must help bury the dead villagers inside the wild temple.”
“With so many dead, I have to dig many pits so they can all rest in peace.”
Hearing this, He Zhuoming’s eyes lit up instantly. “Then I’ll stay and help you!”
Lin Qingyun hesitated. “But weren’t you going to find your relatives…”
He Zhuoming declared with righteous fervor, “You saved my life; you are my benefactor. How could I abandon you to dig so many graves all by yourself while caring only for my own affairs? Absolutely not. I must stay and help you—just consider it giving me a chance to repay my debt! If my relatives knew I stayed behind to repay a life-saving favor, they would certainly support me!”
She delivered this long speech in a single breath, believing her reasoning to be flawless and fully justified. Yet, terrified that Lin Qingyun might still refuse, she stared at him after speaking without so much as blinking.
Lin Qingyun met her gaze for a brief moment, then abruptly changed his mind, consenting with a smile: “Alright then, come help.”
Tools were not a concern, as the farmhouse woodshed was well-stocked. He Zhuoming retrieved another iron shovel from inside and followed Lin Qingyun toward the wild temple. As they crossed the ridges dividing the paddy fields, flanked by waist-high green rice seedlings, the piebald horse ambled leisurely behind He Zhuoming at an unhurried pace.
Midway through their walk, the sun climbed overhead, showering them in warm heat.
A light sheen of sweat soon formed on He Zhuoming’s forehead. As she raised her arm to wipe it with her sleeve, she suddenly realized the sound of hooves following her had vanished. Turning around, she couldn’t help but shout, “Qingyun! Your horse is gone!”
Lin Qingyun remained calm and unbothered. “He disappears often; it’s nothing to worry about.”
He Zhuoming asked, “He isn’t an ordinary horse, is he?”
Lin Qingyun answered, “Mm, he’s actually a dragon.”
He Zhuoming: “…Saying he’s a dragon sounds a bit fake.”
Lin Qingyun burst into a hearty laugh. “Is that so? I thought it would be quite amusing, hahahaha—”
Chatting as they walked, the pair quickly traversed the rice fields and arrived before the wild temple.
Paper-cuts of the red “Double Happiness” character still clung to the exterior walls, and lanterns and banners hung decorated along the eaves, completely unchanged.
Clinging to the open temple door, He Zhuoming cautiously stuck her head in to peek inside: the hall was littered with corpses and severed heads, and the grotesque deity statue in the center had been sliced straight down the middle, falling apart to either side.
Lin Qingyun had intended to step straight in, but seeing He Zhuoming’s stealthy, dog-like caution, he found it amusing and stepped up behind her, poking his head in to look as well.
He Zhuoming remarked, “Two whole days have passed, and it’s summer with heat like this, yet these corpses haven’t rotted at all.”
Lin Qingyun explained, “Those affected by a foul deity possess corpses distinct from ordinary people after death. The specific anomalies vary depending on the foul deity they served.”
A foul deity, as the name implied, referred to an unclean and unrighteous god—in the world-building of *Seeking the Dao*, spirits and monsters that usurped the title of a deity to erect shrines, build temples, and collect incense for themselves were known as foul deities.
However, not just any random monster could become a foul deity. Monsters capable of occupying a territory and maintaining a temple were powerful local demon kings, even if their strength could not compare to true deities. So long as their temperaments were not excessively cruel, cultivators generally avoided seeking trouble with them.
As for the true deities—so long as foul deities did not stir up chaos in their territory, the true gods were even less inclined to intervene.
Yet He Zhuoming vaguely recalled that the male lead despised foul deities to the point of instantly slaying them the moment they showed their heads.
Still, the plot He Zhuoming had read before transmigrating didn’t seem to mention why the male lead hated foul deities so deeply—wait, had the author not written it yet, or had she forgotten it again?
He Zhuoming felt confused for a moment, unable to tell the difference. But realizing the male lead himself was standing right behind her, she bent her arm and nudged Lin Qingyun’s chest with her elbow, asking, “Let me ask you, why did you kill this foul deity?”
Lin Qingyun glanced down at his chest, then looked at the top of He Zhuoming’s head.
She hadn’t even turned around to look at him when asking.
Lin Qingyun reached out, placed his hand on her head, and turned her face around to face him.
He Zhuoming: “?”
Lin Qingyun smiled sweetly. “Look into my eyes and ask that again.”
He Zhuoming was baffled, but she complied, looking straight into Lin Qingyun’s eyes as she repeated the question.
Lin Qingyun answered, “I didn’t kill it just to kill a foul deity. I simply felt the villagers here were pitiable—controlled by a foul deity, deprived of their ears and tongues, and turned into half-human, half-demon monsters.”
“Transforming into a monster is pitiable enough in itself, yet they were still forced to fulfill breeding duties for the foul deity, birthing litter after litter of little monsters. What point is there in living like that… I had to help them.”
His words were entirely sincere, accompanied by a faint, incredibly sweet, and approachable smile.
He Zhuoming felt there was something slightly off about what he said—part of her thought Lin Qingyun’s intentions were merciful, yet another part felt that killing so many people was quite… quite…
Looking at Lin Qingyun’s face turned down toward her and the charming dimple on his smiling cheek, He Zhuoming found it impossible to hurl any negative descriptor at his face.
Just as she was caught in a dilemma, Lin Qingyun suddenly released her head and snapped his fingers before her eyes: “Stop spacing out, let’s get to work, Little He!”
He Zhuoming snapped back to reality, though still somewhat dazed as she stepped into the wild temple behind Lin Qingyun while clutching her shovel.
Looking from outside was one thing, but stepping inside was entirely another—a overpowering stench of blood rushed against her face, causing He Zhuoming’s entire expression to twist, tears welling up in her eyes before her brain could even process the horror.
Wiping her tears with her sleeve, she carefully avoided the corpses and heads on the floor, attempting to find a clear spot to step among the chaotic mess.
So long as she didn’t tread on a corpse, that was enough. As for cleanliness—He Zhuoming had already abandoned all expectations, as every single floor tile inside the temple was soaked through with congealed, dark blood.
Unlike the young girl who stumbled with every step and found progress agonizingly difficult, Lin Qingyun moved with light, brisk footsteps. Walking through this corpse-strewn ground felt no different to him than walking on flat earth, and he managed to avoid stepping on a single body or head throughout.
He picked up a nearby corpse, identified it for a moment, and then scooped up the corresponding head from the floor to attach it back in place.