Corruption is Great—Sect Perks!

He Zhuoming stood frozen in place, stunned by the sudden turn of events, unable to make a sound for a long while.

It never crossed her mind that she might have wandered onto a film set. Her immediate conclusion was that she had transmigrated. And because of her strange outfit, people passing by began to cast glances her way and whisper among themselves.

He Zhuoming stood there with her backpack, school uniform, and neatly braided hair—as jarring as a broadcast gymnastics routine spliced into a classical music video.

The stares around her grew increasingly obvious and dense. He Zhuoming hurriedly trotted away, but since she was completely lost in unfamiliar streets, she had no idea where to go, so she just wandered aimlessly along the road she had appeared on.

She walked briskly, racking her brain for how she had transmigrated. She hadn't been hit by a car, hadn't studied herself to death, and hadn't met any mysterious old man or woman offering her a jade pendant... There was no reason for her to transmigrate!

Could it be that recently she had been reading web novels and scolded the male lead in the comments a few too many times?

The thought flashed through her mind, but she didn't take it seriously, never imagining that she had been transported not only to another era, but into a book.

Just as she was wandering aimlessly, two burly men suddenly jumped out, grabbed her backpack straps, and yanked her into a nearby dead end. He Zhuoming stumbled, and before the lead thug even let go, she had already fallen.

When she scrambled to her feet in a panic, the two men stood side by side at the entrance of the alley, blocking the only exit. One of them barked gruffly, "This is a robbery! If you know what's good for you, hand over anything valuable!"

He Zhuoming, tears streaming down her face, sniffled and trembled as she fumbled in her coat pocket, pulling out her cafeteria card, bus pass, and an opened pack of tissues...

Before she could finish emptying her pockets, the thug slapped the items out of her hand, fuming, "Who wants this garbage? I want something valuable!"

He Zhuoming sobbed, "I-I don't have anything... I use a bus card when I go out..."

The two thugs exchanged glances. One pointed at the hairpin in He Zhuoming's hair. "Stop trying to fool us! Hand over that jewelry on your head first—"

He didn't finish before he was struck from behind, a wooden stick cracking against the back of his skull. He collapsed with a shriek. His companion spun around in shock but was met with a faceful of red powder, and he fell to the ground, clutching his eyes and howling.

He Zhuoming, startled by the sudden rescue, burst into louder sobs, but she quickly stepped over the two thugs and bolted out of the alley. The young man who had helped her hadn't expected her to react so quickly; he had meant to grab her wrist but caught only air, so he simply chased after her.

They ran a long distance until He Zhuoming was out of breath, then collapsed onto the ground, panting, still shaken.

This young man who had come to her aid was none other than the villain's teenage form—though He Zhuoming hadn't recognized him at first, for the same reason as before: male-oriented novels are notoriously sparse in describing male characters' appearances...

The boy told He Zhuoming that he lived nearby and made a living running errands and delivering goods.

Today he had finished his deliveries and was heading home for a meal when he noticed two notorious thugs from the county lurking behind He Zhuoming. Worried they meant her harm, he had followed quietly—and when they made their move in a secluded spot, he acted...

He Zhuoming was recounting her post-transmigration experiences to Lin Qingyun, minus the transmigration part, with a clear beginning and end.

Lin Qingyun suddenly raised a hand to stop her. "Wait, according to you, you had never seen Tang Shuyu before. So how did you recognize him? Did he tell you his name?"

He Zhuoming: "Of course I asked him myself!"

Lin Qingyun: "How did you ask?"

He Zhuoming replied, "I just asked if he was called Tang Shuyu, and he admitted it."

Lin Qingyun found it even stranger. "You'd never seen him, so how could you suspect a random teenager was Tang Shuyu?"

He Zhuoming spread her hands in frustration. "That brings up another thing—I told you before! Maybe I was starving in that village, or maybe that Corrupted Deity used some evil sorcery on me... It messed up my memories..."

"But when I first got here, my memory was still pretty clear! Back then I remembered some traits of Tang Shuyu, and he happened to match all of them! So I asked him! And he admitted it! And the other traits matched too..."

Lin Qingyun raised an eyebrow. "What traits?"

He Zhuoming: "I forgot now—because my memory's all muddled. Anyway, that bastard pretended to save me, and I told him I'd come to town to stay with relatives, but I didn't know where they were yet. He said his home was nearby and invited me to sit down, have something to eat, and he'd help me find my relatives..."

Lin Qingyun snorted. "What relatives?"

He Zhuoming: "Well, the relative part was a lie. But he had saved me, and I'd really been running for ages, my throat burning. I thought it couldn't hurt to take a seat. He didn't seem like a bad guy... Who would've thought! That son of a...—all gold on the outside, all rot inside!"

"The moment I got to his place, I drank a glass of water he gave me, and I was out like a light."

Lin Qingyun picked up the thread. "Then you woke up to find you'd been sold to the villagers who worship the Corrupted Deity."

He Zhuoming nodded vigorously, clenching her fist and shaking it in fury. "He also stripped me of my backpack! My jacket! And my necklace!"

Lin Qingyun echoed her with mock indignation, mimicking the tone He Zhuoming had used earlier to accuse the sect of corruption. "How could he do that!"

He Zhuoming: "When I catch him, if he can't beat both of us, he's dead!"

Lin Qingyun clenched his fist along with her, smiling as he repeated, "He's dead!"

He changed a single word, but He Zhuoming was too caught up in her anger to notice. She just felt that Lin Qingyun was indeed a fine, upstanding youth who hated evil as much as she did.

Soon they stepped onto the main road—though He Zhuoming had no idea it was the main road; to her, it was just a slightly wider dirt path, not even paved with bricks.

The main road bustled with people, and since dawn had barely broken, many breakfast stalls were still set up.

He Zhuoming felt a pang of hunger. She patted the bundle on her back and waved at Lin Qingyun—who raised an eyebrow, unmoved.

He Zhuoming found him slow, so she grabbed his arm and tugged him down. Seeing her straining, almost bouncing on her toes, Lin Qingyun found it amusing. He didn't fight her, but obediently bent over.

He Zhuoming leaned close to his ear and whispered, "In my bundle, I have a piece of gold this big... this big."

She held up her loosely clenched fist for him to see. "How much money would gold like this get?"

Lin Qingyun looked at her fist, thought for a moment, then made a fist of his own and held it next to hers.

He Zhuoming looked at him, puzzled, but tapped her fist against his.

Lin Qingyun laughed out loud, his eyes curving into crescents. He unclenched his fist and replied, "You can't tell by size. Gold is too soft; you have to weigh it in your hand to know its worth. What do you want money for?"

He Zhuoming: "To treat you to a meal! And I need to eat too—I'm starving. But there are so many people here. Should we find someplace quiet..."

Lin Qingyun snapped his fingers. "How convenient—I happen to know a perfect spot for privacy."

He led the way, and they walked a bit further along the main road.

The hard-packed dirt road gradually gave way to more polished stone slabs. Pedestrians thinned out, breakfast stalls disappeared, replaced by walls that grew taller and roofs that grew ever more ornate.

Some rooftops had glossy tiles that sparkled like glass in the sun, dazzling He Zhuoming's eyes.

She quickly looked away and quietly rubbed her eyes.

Finally, they stopped before a pair of enormous vermilion gates, flanked by two stone beasts. He Zhuoming leaned in to peer at one beast's open mouth, and noticed it had carved tongue and fangs, but no ball inside.

No one knocked or called out. The gates simply swung open on their own—the creak of the hinges made He Zhuoming jump. She scurried back to Lin Qingyun's side, and seeing his calm expression, asked in a low voice, "Is this your house?"

Lin Qingyun said casually, "It's a place to stay."

He Zhuoming looked up at the vermilion gates and white walls, the upturned eaves beyond, and a row of animal figures she didn't recognize perched along the ridge.

She said nervously, "This doesn't look like an inn."

Lin Qingyun lowered his voice to match hers. "I did pay a fortune to be listed under a proper sect."

He Zhuoming's mind turned, and it clicked. "Oh! Sect property?"

Lin Qingyun smiled, neither confirming nor denying. "Xiao He is so clever."

From inside the gates, two rows of people came out to greet them—men and women, all neatly dressed. He Zhuoming shrank behind Lin Qingyun at the sight of strangers, eyeing them warily.

Lin Qingyun led her inside. They entered a square courtyard with a main path and winding corridors, and everywhere were crabapple trees, blooming out of season in a riot of colors, their sweet fragrance saturating the air.

He Zhuoming looked around curiously. The flowers were pretty, sure, but the scenery didn't strike her as particularly special—not even worth a "wow."

After all, even with immortals, an ancient setting couldn't compare to an industrial society in terms of creation—at least, this courtyard's visual impact fell far short of the Oriental Pearl Tower or Pudong Airport.

As for the out-of-season crabapples... He Zhuoming had been taken to botanical gardens and flower shows every year in elementary school, and had to write a 600-word reflection afterward. She had long since lost the ability to be moved by such things.

Lin Qingyun pointed to a nearby girl. "You. Take her to get something to eat, clean up, change her clothes, and redo her hair."

The white-robed girl murmured in assent, keeping her eyes lowered the whole time, never meeting Lin Qingyun's gaze.

She drifted over to He Zhuoming with light steps and smiled. "Miss, please follow me."

She completely blocked He Zhuoming's view of the surroundings. He Zhuoming hesitated, turning her head to look at Lin Qingyun.

Lin Qingyun smiled reassuringly. "Sect perk—might as well use it."

Only then did He Zhuoming release his sleeve and follow the white-robed girl.

Lin Qingyun watched them disappear into the winding corridor, his smile fading as their figures dwindled.

He tucked his hands into his sleeves and walked through the dense grove of crabapple trees. The low branches of the trees bent out of his way as he approached, and even the falling petals avoided him. His attendants trailed behind, maintaining even the shadow's distance.

Each of them kept their heads down, holding their breath, trying to minimize their presence. Even the distance of their footsteps was measured to be identical, lest they become the conspicuous one the boy singled out.

As he walked, Lin Qingyun issued a command in a gentle voice: "Find someone. He's in Wen County. He's used my name, and he's left traces. Bring him to me."

The person at the front of the procession saluted and broke off from the group, letting out an inaudible sigh of relief as he left.

If the boss was giving out work, it meant there was no danger today. Hooray!

*

A hot spring! An enormous hot spring! An enormous open-air hot spring!

He Zhuoming soaked in the springs, floating with bliss—she would never again say the big sects were corrupt!

If the sects weren't corrupt, how could Qingyun have gotten his name on their rolls? If Qingyun weren't on the rolls, how could she be soaking in a hot spring in their compound?

He Zhuoming leaned against a rock warmed by the spring, scooped up some hot water, and splashed it on her face, feeling completely revived.

And there were gentle, beautiful women in white serving her fruit and snacks.

She didn't even have to lift a finger; the food came cut into bite-sized pieces. Two white-robed sisters crouched on either side of the pool, holding small plates and feeding her gently.

The sisters were perfect in every way except that they never spoke. No matter what He Zhuoming said to them, they just smiled—at most nodding or shaking their heads.

He Zhuoming even began to suspect they were mute, but one of them had definitely spoken when showing her the way earlier.

After her bath, the two sisters brought her a set of clothes in jade green and moonlight white to change into.

It was a complicated outfit—at least seven or eight ribbons just to fasten it. He Zhuoming was directed, raising her arms here, turning there, until she was dizzy from the ordeal.

And the skirt was too long! He Zhuoming was used to pants, and this floor-length skirt kept making her want to lift the hem.

The white-robed girls wheeled a huge bronze mirror in front of her. He Zhuoming looked up at her reflection and couldn't help spinning around, then leaned closer to the mirror: it was the first time she'd seen herself in ancient costume.

It was a bit odd—the skirt too long, too many sashes, her hair a little short—but she looked good.

With that thought, she began to brush her hair in front of the mirror.

One of the white-robed sisters came up behind her with a comb and said softly, "Please sit, and I'll brush your hair for you."

He Zhuoming hummed in acknowledgment and sat cross-legged, bunching her skirt. Then, feeling the cold floor, she quietly gathered the fabric and tucked it under her bottom.

Since the sister had spoken, He Zhuoming couldn't help but ask, "Sister, do you all work here? What's your salary... how much do you get each month?"

Thanks to Lin Qingyun's habit of turning her head, He Zhuoming now felt compelled to look people in the eye when talking.

But this time, her head was stopped again—the sister pressed gently on her crown to straighten her. Now He Zhuoming couldn't see the other's face, only the mirror's reflection.

It showed not just her, but also the white-robed sister, who was smiling silently at the mirror.

He Zhuoming understood: this was a sign that she wouldn't answer.

The sister combed her hair slowly, so slowly that He Zhuoming grew drowsy.

She propped her cheek on her hand and stared listlessly into the mirror, watching as the woman arranged her half-long hair into a respectable bun.

Suddenly, a figure appeared in the doorway of the mirror—He Zhuoming had been counting the patterns on the frame to stave off boredom, and when she spotted a familiar face, she shouted joyfully, "Qingyun, Qingyun, Qing... ouch!"