Feeling: Xiao He's Hometown

He Zhuoming didn't deliberately avoid Lin Qingyun while fiddling with her phone—actually, avoiding it or not hardly mattered, because the phone had been placed there by Lin Qingyun himself.

Shu Yu was so short on money that he'd even sell people, so of course he wouldn't spare He Zhuoming's belongings. The books and test papers were hard to sell, but the Guanyin golden statue, hairpins, jacket, and other items were indeed finely made and of rare material, so he quickly sold them off.

The local black market was a mixed bag. Once something flowed in, it was like a river merging into the sea—it would immediately lose all trace. Whether the thing was a person or an object, it became very hard to find.

But Lin Qingyun had his own connections—when he wanted to find something, it was impossible for him not to. If he told someone he couldn't find it, then it wasn't that he couldn't, but that he didn't want to.

In just one night, he recovered everything Shu Yu had sold and put it all back in its original place. Even the things that hadn't originally been in the schoolbag, like those strange cards and bracelets, were wrapped in the jacket and stuffed into the bag.

Lin Qingyun's restoration wasn't meticulous, but fortunately He Zhuoming wasn't observant either, and she didn't notice anything amiss.

She opened the apps on her phone one by one: the signal bars were all empty, no network connection, calls wouldn't go through, and any app that required the internet couldn't even open...

The novel reading app opened fine, but every book displayed as gibberish, and even the once flashy covers on her bookshelf had all turned into black-and-white default covers.

The titles had naturally turned into gibberish too.

He Zhuoming then opened the photo album—her real-life photos from the modern world were still there, but her stored anime images had all turned blank, including the fan art of the novels she'd saved.

She had thought that, even if her memories were fuzzy, she could rely on the phone to recover a bit, but now the phone couldn't be counted on either.

He Zhuoming was greatly disappointed and sighed, finally opening the camera. When her face appeared clearly on the phone screen, she immediately cheered up—since transmigrating, she'd always been looking at herself either in water or bronze mirrors.

Bronze mirrors were actually clearer than she'd imagined, but compared to the glass mirrors or front cameras of the industrial age, they were naturally far inferior.

He Zhuoming was still crouching by the schoolbag, not planning to stand up or move, just turning her face and waving at Lin Qingyun, saying excitedly, "Qingyun, Qingyun! Come here, quick!"

Lin Qingyun moved over unhurriedly, crouched down beside her, and looked at the phone screen in her hand.

On the screen, his and He Zhuoming's faces appeared clearly, clearer than any bronze mirror reflection. He Zhuoming reached out and looped her arm around his neck, making a peace sign at the camera.

Their faces were so close they nearly touched, and He Zhuoming could feel his cold earring sway and brush against the tip of her ear.

The scent emanating from him was also subtly cold.

He Zhuoming looked at the phone screen and saw Lin Qingyun's face—he wore a slight smile, his half-lidded eyes curiously gazing at the phone in her hand.

Taking a photo was a momentary thing. If it were only a moment, then even if she met Lin Qingyun's gaze in the phone screen, He Zhuoming wouldn't feel anything special.

But now, for some reason, the photo wasn't being taken; the gaze was prolonged.

He Zhuoming couldn't remember if she'd set a self-timer. If she had, she'd have to wait three or five seconds. Then she realized she'd tapped the video button, not the camera.

She felt a slight fluster, her heart suddenly beating faster than usual. She quickly stopped the recording and, with her finger on the hand holding the phone, swiped the screen—finally switching to camera mode, which gave a quick shutter sound.

Lin Qingyun asked, "Is this a memory stone?"

He Zhuoming replied, "No, it's a phone. Hmm... it's a specialty from my hometown. This is the phone's built-in camera function. Look."

She opened the photo album and showed the just-taken photo to Lin Qingyun: in the photo, the young man had his neck hooked by He Zhuoming's arm, his upper body leaning toward her. Their heads touched, and both had smiles on their faces, except He Zhuoming's eyes were still open when she smiled, with only the obvious smile lines under her eyes rising.

But when Lin Qingyun smiled, he usually curved his eyes first.

His eyelashes were naturally long and thick, casting long, dense shadows. When his eyes curved slightly, the shadows completely covered his pupils. Thus, it gave a visual illusion that he was smiling so hard his eyes had completely squinted shut, and that he was more sincere and happier than others.

He Zhuoming had that illusion at that moment.

Her hand making the peace sign was beside Lin Qingyun's head, so at first glance, it looked like Lin Qingyun himself was making the peace sign.

He Zhuoming stared at the Lin Qingyun in the photo for several seconds, then secretly glanced at the real person crouching next to her.

Lin Qingyun was also looking at the photo, his profile very close to her, and he wasn't speaking.

But Lin Qingyun's silence didn't last long. After a moment, he commented, "It's much clearer than a memory stone."

He Zhuoming quickly looked away, pretending she'd been staring at the phone screen, and asked, "What are memory stones like?"

Lin Qingyun pulled out a memory stone and infused spiritual energy into it—the memory stone looked a lot like a phone, flat and smooth, but its shape wasn't fixed. The smooth surface faintly glowed with the infusion of spiritual energy, reflecting the images of their heads leaning together.

The image quality was a bit like a bronze mirror, blurry; you could make out the outline of facial features but not the details.

He Zhuoming unconsciously leaned in, trying to see more clearly by getting closer. But even up close, the image remained fuzzy, like the dusty old VHS tapes at her house.

Suddenly, the image stopped moving.

He Zhuoming was puzzled and poked the cold stone surface with her finger, making the angular stone roll in Lin Qingyun's hand, almost dropping it.

Lin Qingyun put away the memory stone and said, "It's used up. A memory stone can only hold a short segment of images like this. To record longer images, you need a larger memory stone."

"The larger the memory stone, the more spiritual energy it requires."

He Zhuoming: "That's inconvenient."

Lin Qingyun smiled, meaningfully, "Although it's inconvenient, memory stones are also a rare item, worth a lot on the market... Of course, it's not as good as your phone."

He Zhuoming didn't catch the subtlety in his words and said, "Well, it's a product of technology."

Lin Qingyun: "Xiao He's hometown is quite interesting—"

He Zhuoming only felt her hometown was being praised, and she was proud, saying, "My hometown is indeed wonderful! Though we don't have True Deities, the people use their own hard work and wisdom to create a life of abundance."

Having crouched and talked with Lin Qingyun for too long, He Zhuoming felt her legs going numb. She stood up, shook out her jacket to check it, and finding no stains or strange smells, put it on directly.

The spring-autumn school uniform jacket was single-layered and could be worn in this weather. Mainly, He Zhuoming was tired of ancient clothes—she really needed jacket pockets!

After putting on the school uniform jacket, He Zhuoming slung her schoolbag over one shoulder, then stuffed her phone, transit card, and other things all into the jacket pockets—finally, she stuffed her hands into the pockets as well.

He Zhuoming, hands in pockets, with a serious and calm expression, walked two circles around Lin Qingyun.

When she looked up and met his eyes, seeing the smile on his face, He Zhuoming couldn't hold it in and burst out laughing.

She jumped in place and said, "I always felt something was off when walking before. Now that I've changed back into these clothes, it feels right!"

Lin Qingyun lowered his eyelashes, his gaze unconsciously following He Zhuoming's smiling face.

He Zhuoming in her school uniform, with her schoolbag on her back, looked very different from usual. Especially when she'd just kept a straight face and circled around him—Xiao He suddenly seemed a bit clever and very cool, with thick eyebrows and round eyes, exuding a spirited aura.

In contrast, the elaborate and gorgeous dresses the Pear Garden had prepared for her seemed to pale in comparison.

It was strange, really. The dresses were made of the finest fabric, sewn with expensive pearls and jade, embroidered with highly skilled patterns, but they couldn't compare to that strange, simple jacket He Zhuoming wore.

The dress was beautiful, and He Zhuoming looked good in it, but the dress didn't have that spirit, while He Zhuoming did, so it seemed incongruous.

But this jacket matched that spirit, fit together harmoniously.

He Zhuoming didn't know Lin Qingyun had thought so much—she'd changed back into her school uniform jacket, regained convenient pockets, and recovered all her belongings. She was in a great mood now, poking around with her wooden sword in search.

But aside from He Zhuoming's schoolbag, there was almost nothing of value in this shabby mud-brick house. The owner of the house was also missing, with only a large dried bloodstain left on the floor.

However, He Zhuoming believed Tang Shuyu must not be dead—not only was he not dead, but he'd likely obtained some opportunity, his cultivation about to soar, and he'd start causing trouble for the male lead everywhere!

Thinking of that, He Zhuoming worriedly instructed Lin Qingyun, "You must be careful of Tang Shuyu in the future."

Tang Shuyu smiled and asked, "Why?"

He Zhuoming: "Don't ask me why. Just remember what I said. I wouldn't harm you."

Tang Shuyu nodded, saying, "I naturally believe you. But the world is vast, and there are countless people with the same name. I can't treat every person called Tang Shuyu as if they were a viper."

He Zhuoming was stunned by his words: she hadn't considered the possibility of sharing a name.

...It couldn't be that coincidental, right?

He Zhuoming muttered, "That name isn't very common, so it shouldn't be that easy to have a duplicate, right?"

Although He Zhuoming didn't believe such a coincidence existed in the world, because of Lin Qingyun's words, she couldn't help but doubt 'Tang Shuyu'.

The reason was that the current development was somewhat against the original novel's setting.

The male lead Lin Qingyun looked very strong, cutting down the Corrupted Deity and villagers in the village like twisting cabbage. And the villain Tang Shuyu... though he was sinister and despicable enough, if we talk about strength—if he had to use knockout drugs even to deal with a little girl like her, it was hard to believe he had profound cultivation...

But in the original novel, Tang Shuyu was very strong! Although he was just a teenager now—wait, how old was the male lead when the original story began?

He Zhuoming racked her brains for a long time but couldn't remember the original storyline at all.

The more she thought, the more tangled it became. Plus, it had been three days since they arrived in Wen County, and there was still no clue about going home, which made He Zhuoming heavy-hearted all day. At night, for the first time, she couldn't fall asleep.

She simply took out her phone to pass the time—the battery was a bit over forty percent, but there was nothing to play since it couldn't connect to the internet, and games barely opened.

He Zhuoming opened the photo album, flipped through it randomly, found the most recent family photo, and set it as her phone wallpaper.

Afraid of running out of battery, she turned off the phone, planning to turn it on later to look at the photo when she missed her parents.

*

He Zhuoming soon fell into a deep sleep, half her face buried in the soft pillow, breathing even and long.

The room she stayed in had several bronze candelabra as tall as half a person, but before sleeping, He Zhuoming blew out all the candles, leaving only one white candle.

Not because she wanted to keep it, but because that white candle wouldn't blow out. To keep the candlelight from affecting her sleep, He Zhuoming deliberately moved that candelabra outside the screen.

The candlelight spread through the spacious room, appearing faint due to the large space, casting only a misty glow on the silk screen.

Inside the candle's flame core, the paper figure still trembled violently, its simple lines almost twisted into a mess. If any cultivator or ghost with sufficient cultivation were there, they'd hear the entire room filled with sharp ghostly wails.

But He Zhuoming had only just touched the threshold of absorbing qi, far from the realm of 'sufficient cultivation.' So she heard nothing and slept soundly amidst the ghostly cries.

Lin Qingyun appeared out of nowhere, holding a pair of scissors, and casually cut the paper figure.

The paper figure trembled even harder, and the cut parts gradually turned red.

The dim candlelight flickered on Lin Qingyun's face, lengthening the shadows of his lashes—he wore a smile on his face, two dimples sinking at the corners of his mouth, and his voice was light and gentle: "What's there to cry about? It's just a game, burning you for a few days, not a death sentence."

"If you can't take the game and cry all day, you'll cry all your blessings away."

The paper figure immediately fell silent, not daring to tremble.

Lin Qingyun used the scissors to pry open the incense burner lid and tossed a few plum-shaped incense cakes inside. The remaining embers in the burner quickly caught on the new incense, but the aroma that rose was no longer the fresh floral scent.

The scent of dream-inducing incense was richer, like falling into a dream from which one would never wake.

"What kind of triangle is this? Tell me! When side A and side B are equal, what kind of triangle is it? Yes, it's an isosceles triangle!"

The math teacher's chalk rapped loudly on the blackboard, the vibrations reaching the projector screen on the other half.

He Zhuoming sat in the third row by the window, hiding behind an upright math book, secretly yawning.

Her deskmate whispered, "What is this?"

He Zhuoming turned her head and saw Lin Qingyun sitting next to her.

In fact, everything was strange, because Lin Qingyun was still wearing ancient clothes. His hair, though short for his era, was considered long in a modern campus.

Not to mention his piercings and earrings.

But He Zhuoming didn't find anything strange at all—everything was harmonious; Lin Qingyun had always been her deskmate.

She lay on the desk, cupping her mouth with her hand, and whispered, "We're in class. Hey, don't talk to me, or the teacher'll call on us."

Lin Qingyun couldn't understand but obediently shut his mouth. After all, this was Xiao He's dream, so it was better to listen to her.

But less than half a minute after shutting up, He Zhuoming mysteriously nudged his arm with her elbow—he turned to look at her, pointed to his mouth, then shook his head.

He Zhuoming didn't heed his gesture at all.

With a serious and earnest expression, she asked, "Do you know? The apocalypse is coming."