I Walked Right Past That

He Zhuoming blinked hard a few times, finally bringing the speaker's face into focus. Without a second thought, she shrieked. Her hand recoiled from Tang Shuyu's palm as if burned, and she kicked him viciously, trying to shove him away.

The image that had swirled in her mind before she passed out—the face revealed through the crack in the curtain, that terrible face weeping blood—overlapped with the one before her now, and every nerve in He Zhuoming's brain screamed.

Tang Shuyu's upper body swayed under her kicks, and he grabbed her ankle, pulling her toward him. But the next second, she shoved his head away with all her strength. Amid the violent struggle, her fingernails raked across his cheek.

Thin lines of stinging pain laced across his face, and only then did he realize that this time, He Zhuoming was truly terrified.

That realization made Tang Shuyu pause. He stopped trying to dodge her, letting her wail and scream and beat him all she wanted.

On his way over, seeing the mess scattered everywhere, Tang Shuyu had known He Zhuoming would be frightened—after all, Xiao He was naturally timid, brave only within her own little circle, fierce only with him. When she met unfamiliar monsters or that unfamiliar girl with a knife, she'd hide behind him and turn mute.

But now he suddenly realized that "knowing" and "seeing it with his own eyes" were two entirely different things.

Tang Shuyu had seen many people terrified by "himself" before.

Mortals could hardly accept the true form of an ordinary Corrupted Deity, let alone those eerie puppets. He could often see from the memories of other puppets how easily they drove people mad with fear, and he'd frequently seen people driven insane by parts of his own true form.

Those faces twisted with intense emotion had once briefly amused him, and for a while he'd even taken delight in that game of terror.

But that pleasure was too fleeting—it lingered in Tang Shuyu's heart for only an instant before vanishing. So he quickly lost interest in the game, and with it, those fear-filled faces rapidly faded from his memory, leaving not a trace behind.

Those expressions of terror, so easily forgotten, had led Tang Shuyu to believe that being frightened was nothing remarkable—let alone for Xiao He, that fool who was stupid, dense, and couldn't understand a word he said.

But in reality, that was far from the truth.

He Zhuoming's loud crying and panicked expression left Tang Shuyu at a loss. He couldn't even spare a thought for how presumptuous it was that she'd nearly clawed his face to shreds.

An ordinary corpse wouldn't have scared He Zhuoming like this. Thinking it over, it had to be the fault of those two puppets—Tang Shuyu had already forgotten that, on his way over, he'd been cursing He Zhuoming just as much as he'd been cursing the puppets.

He could no longer recall a single flaw of Xiao He's. He only felt that Xiao He was pitiful, and in turn, he couldn't even be bothered about those punches she'd landed on his face.

Xiao He had been driven to this state by those two puppets; if she wanted to vent, let her. It wasn't like she could beat him to death anyway.

He Zhuoming soon ran out of strength. Panting, she stopped and stared at Tang Shuyu's face. His hair had been mussed into chaos, and his face looked like a painter's palette had been knocked over.

Until he'd run into He Zhuoming, Tang Shuyu had subdued countless evil spirits without a single bloodstain touching his clothes. Yet it was He Zhuoming, barely starting out in cultivation, who'd gotten the better of him—kicked, scratched, and not once struck back.

He hadn't fought back. His face was slightly swollen, a few wounds scraped raw, oozing thin threads of blood.

Oddly enough, that gave He Zhuoming a strange sense of safety. He could be hurt. He could bleed. He looked normal.

She froze for a moment, her gaze slowly drifting down from Tang Shuyu's battered face to his ordinary neck and ordinary body—a build between youth and young man, tall and slender, with the black Wuyi Sword coiled at his waist, its hilt decorated with red crabapple blossoms.

Her lowered head slowly rose again, and she looked back at Tang Shuyu's face.

His eyes were perfectly ordinary. There were brow bones, eye sockets, eyelashes—thick and straight, casting long shadows at the corners that made his eyes look deep and narrow.

Beautiful eyes. Eyes He Zhuoming knew well.

She stared at Tang Shuyu for a long while—long enough to observe every detail she could see on him—before she cautiously spoke. "Lin Qingyun?"

Tang Shuyu touched his own face and sighed. "Xiao He, if I'm disfigured, you'll have to compensate me... never mind."

He glanced at He Zhuoming, then shook his head and said faintly, "You couldn't afford it anyway."

The familiar tone. He Zhuoming blinked, her nose stinging, and burst into tears as she threw herself into his arms.

"Wuwuwu... I... I thought I was going to die... wuwuwu... you don't know what kind of terrifying monster I ran into... and it even had your face wuwuwu... I don't want a sister, I want to be an only child wuwuwu..."

The harder she cried, the more her tears seemed endless, dripping onto Tang Shuyu's neck without stopping.

Tang Shuyu's heart suddenly felt damp too, as if a drizzling rain had settled in, or perhaps He Zhuoming's tears had seeped through her skin and dripped onto his heart.

Tang Shuyu even wanted to shove He Zhuoming away immediately—or pry open his own chest and dig out his heart to dry it in the sun.

He figured it must be because Xiao He's tears were too many, making moss grow over his heart... or maybe it had already grown. Otherwise, why would his heart ache and tingle so?

"I... I wanted to go find you... but I got caught by the monster wuwuwu..."

He Zhuoming sniffled and, with no sense of decorum, wiped her nose on Tang Shuyu's clothes. Tang Shuyu glanced down at the spot, sighed, and the hand he'd already raised to push her away instead turned to wrap around her shoulders, drawing her into his embrace.

Tang Shuyu: "It's okay. It's okay."

He Zhuoming: "The monster..."

Tang Shuyu patted her head. "The Earth Immortal already took care of all the monsters."

As he patted her head, he casually plucked the withered crabapple blossom from her hair and tossed it far away.

He Zhuoming clutched his collar, her voice thick with congestion. "The Earth Immortal showed up? When?"

Tang Shuyu: "While you were unconscious."

He Zhuoming: "Then where is the Earth Immortal now..."

Tang Shuyu said calmly, "The Earth Immortal is very busy—he still has to return for a gathering with the other True Deities. So after dealing with the troublemaking Corrupted Deity, he left."

He Zhuoming let out an "oh" and rubbed her soaked face carelessly against Tang Shuyu's clothes before trying to stand. Tang Shuyu considerately supported her, but once she was upright, he found that the moment he let go, He Zhuoming was about to topple over.

She clung to Tang Shuyu's arm, her face crumpling. "I... my legs don't have any strength wuwuwu—"

Tang Shuyu pressed a finger to the corner of her mouth as it started to droop and said, "Talk properly. Don't keep crying. What if you cry yourself unconscious again? And I'm busy too."

"The Corrupted Deity has thrown the Divine Palace into chaos, and there's still a pile of things waiting for me. I can't very well be idle and spend all my time doting on you."

He Zhuoming was just about to accuse Tang Shuyu of having a heart of stone and no sense of friendship—but when she looked up, she saw her own handiwork on his scratched face.

She remembered that when she woke up, the first person she'd seen was also him. Clearly, when the chaos broke out, just as her first thought had been that Tang Shuyu was in danger because he couldn't see, Tang Shuyu had also come looking for her because he was worried.

He Zhuoming pursed her lips and made a small request. "Fine, I won't cry anymore. Then you carry me out—just carry me somewhere safe and put me down."

Tang Shuyu was stunned. He pointed at himself, dubious. "Me? Carry you?"

He Zhuoming nodded seriously. "I can't walk anymore."

From birth until now, Tang Shuyu had never heard such an absurd demand. Why on earth would he...

He Zhuoming: "What, you can't carry me?"

Tang Shuyu immediately released He Zhuoming's arm. Without support, she wobbled and stumbled, nearly falling before she finally grabbed hold of something. She turned to look—it was a crabapple tree.

Some not-so-pleasant memories surfaced, and her face went pale. She snatched her hand back as if scalded, jumping a good distance away from the thick tree.

Then she heard Tang Shuyu's impatient voice. "Weren't you asking me to carry you? What are you hitting the tree for?"

He Zhuoming turned to look and saw that Tang Shuyu was already crouched down with his back to her.

She climbed onto his back, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. Tang Shuyu stood up with ease, shifting her up by the crook of her knees.

He Zhuoming hissed. "Don't bounce me... the backs of my knees hurt."

Tang Shuyu complained, "I didn't even use any force."

He Zhuoming said petulantly, "But my skin broke there."

Tang Shuyu frowned, about to speak, when He Zhuoming rolled up her sleeve to show him her wrist. "Look, look."

He lowered his head to look and saw rings of red, swollen bruising with blood seeping through. He Zhuoming's skin was pale and delicate, and these not-so-serious scrapes looked shocking on her arm.

Tang Shuyu had seen countless wounds far more severe than this, and he knew perfectly well that these were just alarming to the eye. But the moment his gaze touched them, his eyelids still twitched twice.

He Zhuoming said, "You don't know how terrifying that monster was... that thing all wrapped in red thread—is that the Corrupted Deity?"

The strength in Tang Shuyu's hands gentled, as light as if he were carrying a paper lantern. He answered her as he went. "He wasn't a Corrupted Deity to begin with."

"The one who lured everyone into gambling at the heroes' gathering was the real Corrupted Deity. He was gravely wounded by the combined efforts of the Demon Suppression Bureau and the Pear Garden musicians, and he fled into the Divine Palace. He was hoping to use this wave of gambling to guide cultivators into making wishes to him—as long as he had enough offerings and prayers, his injuries could recover quickly."

He Zhuoming thought for a moment and said, "Then I did run into that Corrupted Deity. He even turned into you and tried to trick me, but I didn't fall for it. I could tell he was a fake at a glance!"

By the end, she sounded a little proud, believing herself to have sharp eyes. Tang Shuyu let out a laugh.

Just as she was about to ask what he was laughing at, he continued on his own. "The monster wrapped in red thread was a puppet."

He Zhuoming was blank. "A puppet?"

Tang Shuyu: "Mm. A puppet that an Earth Immortal placed in the Divine Palace to intimidate ghosts and monsters. The puppet swallowed the Corrupted Deity, and in turn, its own flesh was corrupted by the deity's blood, turning it into the monster you saw."

Most of what he said was true. A small part was a lie. He Zhuoming thought it over with her empty head for a few seconds and believed it completely.

He Zhuoming: "Then the puppet must have been pitiful."

Tang Shuyu scoffed. "Pitiful puppet? I'm the pitiful one! You've never given me anything, and yet you've hit me more than once."

Remembering that he was also the one carrying He Zhuoming on his back right now, Tang Shuyu gritted his teeth in a cold smile. For the first time in his life, he felt so aggrieved—he'd done all the work and gotten no reward at all. And as for that puppet...

If he ate it, it would add to his karmic burden. And right now, during the Day of Divine Celebration, if he wasn't careful, the other True Deities might just work together to purify him.

If he didn't eat it? Just looking at that polluted thing left a sour taste in his mouth and made him sick. What annoyed him even more was how fixated the puppet had been on Xiao He—and that was all Xiao He's fault. Why did she have to give the puppet a crabapple blossom? She should have given one to him!

He Zhuoming muttered, "I did say I'd treat you to a meal, but you're the one who said no..."

When Tang Shuyu heard that, he remembered that he couldn't taste anything anyway, which only made him angrier. He smiled without meaning it. "I'm not interested. Go treat your new friend—the one who nearly put a knife through your neck—to a meal instead."

He Zhuoming: "I already did treat her."

Tang Shuyu: "...Oh. Then I wish you both the best."

He Zhuoming didn't understand, but she was polite. "Mm-hm, thank you."

Tang Shuyu: "..."

He really wanted to throw He Zhuoming on the ground and make her crawl back on her own!

Tang Shuyu thought furiously while carrying He Zhuoming lightly and carefully, all the way back to the room behind the main hall of the Divine Palace.

He Zhuoming hugged his neck a little tighter and asked, "Can you leave that white room now?"

Tang Shuyu answered vaguely, "Mm. Special circumstances. I can come out."

He Zhuoming: "And your eyes are better too?"

Tang Shuyu: "My eyes were never actually a problem."

He Zhuoming blinked blankly. "But last time you told me..."

Tang Shuyu: "Oh, that was a lie."

He Zhuoming: "?"

Tang Shuyu said serenely, "Before today, I was a man of low character, habitual lies, and poor morals."

"So this morning, I reflected deeply, mended my ways, and decided to become a noble, kind, and refined gentleman."

As he spoke, the two of them reached the door of the room.

He Zhuoming listened to his nonsense and pursed her lips. She let go of his neck, thinking that now that they were at the door, Tang Shuyu would put her down.

But he didn't.

Despite having seemed reluctant to carry her at the start, he didn't release her at the door either. He kicked it open in one motion, and the mechanism at the entrance might as well have not existed for all he cared—he didn't bother turning the compass wheel. The door opened, and the bedroom lay beyond.

Tang Shuyu carried He Zhuoming all the way to the bedside before finally setting her down.

He Zhuoming sat on the edge of the bed and pulled at his sleeve, asking seriously, "Are your eyes really fine now?"

As she spoke, she tilted her face up to look at him intently, meeting his gaze. Tang Shuyu realized that He Zhuoming was the kind of person who liked to look into someone's eyes when she spoke.

She didn't avoid his gaze, and naturally, Tang Shuyu didn't avoid hers either.

To be honest, He Zhuoming's current appearance had nothing to do with words like "pretty" or "cute." Especially now—her eyes were swollen like walnuts, her face was deathly pale, and the veins at her temples were clearly visible.

Even her hair was a complete mess.

But strange enough, Tang Shuyu couldn't see any of that. He couldn't see the unattractive parts of He Zhuoming's appearance.

He reached out, his fingertip brushing lightly beneath her lower eyelid. He didn't answer her question. After a moment of silence, he said instead, "You need to put some swelling medicine on your eyes."

What he really wanted to say was: Don't cry like that anymore.

So many tears, eyes swollen from crying. She looked so pitiful.

He Zhuoming: "You haven't answered my question!"

Tang Shuyu: "...They're really fine now. I can even count your eyelashes clear as day."

He Zhuoming still looked at his eyes doubtfully, and he let her look—because his eyes had never had a problem to begin with.

Tang Shuyu dragged a chair over and sat down, pulling out several bottles of medicine and lining them up on the nightstand. He said to He Zhuoming, "Bring your face here."

He Zhuoming obediently leaned in and closed her eyes.

Tang Shuyu dabbed some ointment onto his fingertip and spread it over her eye socket, then teased, "Don't open your eyes suddenly, or you'll go blind."

He Zhuoming asked nervously, "Really?"

Tang Shuyu: "Hahaha, I'm just kidding—"

He Zhuoming breathed a sigh of relief, and the soft breath she exhaled drifted onto Tang Shuyu's wrist, making the motion of his hand applying the medicine pause for a moment.