Love and Its Absence

He Zhuoming paced about until she spotted a corpse that didn't seem too tall, intending to lift it—but when it came time to actually grab hold, she circled the body once and found herself in a bind.

If she hooked her arms under its armpits, the severed neck would press against her chest... no, no, that wouldn't do. The body hadn't rotted, but the broken neck was a horrifying sight—she'd pass out from fright!

But if she dragged it by the feet, the uneven ground and all the obstacles in the way would make it impossible to pull the body out.

Stuck between two bad options, she hesitated for a moment, then turned to Lin Qingyun for reference. She saw him crouched on the ground, fitting a head onto a corpse.

After finishing the one in his hands, Lin Qingyun hoisted the body up as easily as if it were a sheet of paper and tossed it out into the clearing before the wild shrine. He didn't move so much as a step from where he stood, yet when the thrown corpse hit the ground, it landed perfectly intact, the head he'd attached still sitting snugly on its neck.

He Zhuoming made a show of tugging at a corpse's ankle to demonstrate she was doing her part, but her mind was elsewhere: *How does he even reattach severed heads... and how did he chop off all these heads in one go?*

She hadn't actually seen Lin Qingyun cut the heads off—when the groom had gone on his killing spree, the bride had been too busy scrambling around on the floor trying to escape to look up.

Suddenly, Lin Qingyun called to her: "Xiao He, pick up that head on your left and bring it to me."

He Zhuoming acknowledged him, held her breath, and fetched the head he'd pointed at.

Lin Qingyun took it and, without hesitation, fitted it onto the headless corpse in front of him.

He Zhuoming was skeptical. "Is that even his head?"

Lin Qingyun snapped his fingers in front of the corpse's wide, unseeing eyes. "Hello, is this your head?"

The corpse, naturally, said nothing.

Lin Qingyun looked up at He Zhuoming with a sweet smile. "He didn't say it wasn't, so it must be."

He Zhuoming: "..."

She suspected Lin Qingyun was just slapping random heads onto random bodies, but she had no proof, since none of the parties involved had any objections.

What had seemed like a hopelessly disorganized task suddenly found its division of labor—Lin Qingyun began directing He Zhuoming to retrieve the scattered heads while he handled all the heavy lifting of hauling bodies out.

At first, He Zhuoming found it revolting, wrapping her sleeves around her hands before touching any of the heads. But after collecting enough of them, she developed a sort of numbness toward all manner of human heads and no longer felt as frightened as she had at the start.

Once all the bodies in the wild shrine had been moved out, He Zhuoming bent down to wipe her hands on the hem of her own clothes—she'd touched so many heads that her hands were caked with bloodstains.

Lin Qingyun noticed and walked over, pulling a corner of her clothes to wipe his own hands.

This was when the advantage of red robes revealed itself—wiping away bloodstains didn't leave any visible marks.

He Zhuoming looked at the corner of her clothes that Lin Qingyun had grabbed to clean his hands, thought for a moment, then released her own garment and grabbed a corner of his robe instead, wrapping it around her fingers to wipe them clean.

The two of them wore identical robes in the same color, so Lin Qingyun's clothes naturally didn't show bloodstains either.

This was the first time anyone had grabbed his robe to wipe their hands, and Lin Qingyun found it rather novel. While she was wiping, he kept his eyes fixed on her face—Xiao He hadn't actually done any heavy work, just picked up a few heads, yet sweat already beaded her forehead and neck, and her heartbeat had grown so fast and frantic it seemed like she might keel over at any moment.

*So fragile.*

If he left her to run around on her own, she'd die soon enough. If not eaten by monsters, she'd definitely be "eaten" by people.

Lin Qingyun voiced his genuine curiosity: "Xiao He, how did you manage to grow this old?"

He Zhuoming was baffled by the question but answered obediently: "My mom and dad raised me."

Lin Qingyun froze, then felt a sense of bewilderment wash over him—Xiao He was weak and cried easily, and besides being somewhat cute, she was practically useless. Why would any parents be willing to raise such a useless burden?

Lin Qingyun couldn't help asking: "Who are Xiao He's mom and dad?"

He Zhuoming: "Mom and dad are just mom and dad..."

Lin Qingyun: "Then how did Mom and Dad raise Xiao He?"

He Zhuoming: "Mom and Dad worked hard to earn money to raise me—thanks for the clothes, by the way!"

Seeing that all ten of her fingers were now spotless, He Zhuoming released Lin Qingyun's robe and casually pulled her own hem out of his grip.

Since she was no longer using Lin Qingyun's clothes to wipe her hands, he naturally couldn't keep using hers either.

Carrying all those heads had truly exhausted He Zhuoming. She walked over to the altar platform and sat down to rest—Lin Qingyun tilted his head, his gaze following her movements. It seemed he'd suddenly taken an interest in her parents, pressing further: "Why did Xiao He's mom and dad raise Xiao He?"

He Zhuoming found the question utterly bizarre. "Because I'm Mom and Dad's child."

Lin Qingyun: "That's it?"

He Zhuoming nodded. "That's it."

Lin Qingyun tilted his head, the smile fading from his face, leaving only incomprehensible confusion. "I still don't understand... why?"

He Zhuoming answered matter-of-factly: "Because Mom and Dad love me very much, so they raised me."

Lin Qingyun stared hard at He Zhuoming's face, at her eyes—he probed the girl's expression for her emotions, searching for even a trace of—

A numbed self-deception, a fear born of indoctrination, calculations wrapped in genuine and false feelings from a position of unequal power...

Anything at all, there should be at least *something*—wasn't that what the bond between parent and child was supposed to be?

He even tried listening to the girl's inner voice, considering the possibility that he'd misjudged her, that she wasn't as simple and sincere as she appeared, but rather a master of pretense.

He was very good at seeing through people. Most of the time, he didn't even need to listen to their hearts to know what they were thinking, because everyone who came before him wanted something from him, and desire was the hardest thing in the world to hide.

He never failed in this regard.

But He Zhuoming was the same inside and out.

What she said was exactly what she meant, with no concealment, no distortion, no self-deception.

...How could she be so candid?

Lin Qingyun watched her for a long while, but He Zhuoming didn't notice his intense gaze at all. She simply went on tapping her legs and massaging her sore shoulders and neck.

Lin Qingyun asked in a low, distant voice: "So then, children who aren't raised are children whose parents don't love them?"

He Zhuoming thought it over. "A child someone is willing to raise isn't necessarily a beloved child, but a child they're unwilling to raise is definitely not loved."

Lin Qingyun suddenly stepped forward, crossing the mottled dark-red floor tiles to approach He Zhuoming. The sunlight inside the wild shrine wasn't strong to begin with, and when he stopped in front of her, he blocked every bit of sun she could reach, his shadow swallowing her whole.

He Zhuoming looked up at him, dazed, and saw him lean down slightly, one hand bracing on the altar platform where she sat.

The distance between them closed abruptly, and He Zhuoming, slow as she was, noticed that Lin Qingyun's expression wasn't like usual—he wasn't smiling, his beautifully curved lips pressed into a flat line at the corners, the glimmer of his long earring swaying against his cheek, and those eyes with their overly thick lashes looked a little...

Cold when he wasn't smiling.

Before Lin Qingyun had come close, He Zhuoming had felt the wild shrine was swelteringly hot and reeked of the stench of rotting blood.

But when Lin Qingyun's shadow covered her, He Zhuoming felt a subtle chill—and the scent of flowers.

They were already very close, so close that He Zhuoming's bent knee pressed against Lin Qingyun's thigh, so close that she could feel that cool, faint fragrance of crabapple blossoms wafting against her cheek.

And yet Lin Qingyun was still closing the meager distance between them—the arm braced beside He Zhuoming slowly bent, his face drawing nearer and nearer to hers.

He Zhuoming unconsciously leaned back a little, bracing both arms on the altar platform behind her.

She didn't understand why Lin Qingyun was getting so close, but she could feel her heart racing, even faster than when she'd been working—He Zhuoming suspected Lin Qingyun was about to kiss her.

But the next second—Lin Qingyun turned his face aside. He didn't kiss her; instead, his lips merely drew close to He Zhuoming's ear: "So then, Xiao He, who's all alone now—are you a child whose mom and dad don't love her?"

Because he was so close, warm breath blew against He Zhuoming's ear as he spoke.

His long earring hung exactly between their nearly touching cheeks, swaying gently, brushing against He Zhuoming's face like a dragonfly skimming water, kiss after kiss.

An intimate posture, a gentle voice, cruel words.

At moments like this, Lin Qingyun smiled again, his pitch-black pupils beneath those thick lashes shifting slightly to the side, staring hard at He Zhuoming's face—his smile was sweet, but there was sharp malice in his eyes.

Only then did He Zhuoming realize Lin Qingyun wasn't going to kiss her.

He just wanted to talk to her, except what he'd said was rather unpleasant to hear. But recalling it, the original novel's male lead did seem to have a trait of saying unpleasant things.

But the male lead simply had poor communication skills; he actually harbored no ill intentions.

He Zhuoming shuffled aside and leaned her upper body in the opposite direction to put distance between herself and Lin Qingyun's close face—her cheeks were hot from her racing heart, but Lin Qingyun's earring was very cold, and its touch made her uncomfortable.

He Zhuoming: "Of course not! Because I'm not alone by choice—I was tricked into coming here... My mom and dad are definitely looking for me everywhere right now, worried out of their minds—and this is all that little punk's fault!"

Mentioning her parents made her brow furrow in displeasure; at the mention of "that little punk," she ground her teeth and slammed her fist on the altar platform in anger—right onto Lin Qingyun's fingers braced there.

Lin Qingyun looked at the back of his hand, now red from the impact, and was silent for a moment. He pulled his hand back on his own and turned to sit on the altar platform next to He Zhuoming.

Lin Qingyun: "Little... punk?"

He Zhuoming said indignantly: "A bad seed! A damned villain! He's the one who tricked me into coming here to be a bride! Oh, right, Qingyun, you'll run into this person someday too—you have to be careful of him—his name is Tang Shuyu, rotten to the core! Vicious, vulgar, worthless, a dead pig's head! That man doesn't have a single honest word in his mouth—no matter what he tells you, don't believe a thing!"

Lin Qingyun raised an eyebrow. "Tang... Tang Shuyu?"

He Zhuoming nodded. "Yes! That's him!"

Lin Qingyun: "...He told you his name was Tang Shuyu?"

He Zhuoming: "Yeah, I even confirmed it several times... You haven't already met him, have you? He hasn't tricked you already, has he?!"

He Zhuoming whipped her head around to stare at Lin Qingyun—Lin Qingyun curved his eyes into a smile. "Haha, no, I don't know him! I just think the name sounds nice. Just from the name, he doesn't seem like a bad guy."

He Zhuoming jumped off the altar platform, her voice fierce. "That's exactly what I thought too, before—I was fooled by the name just like you. Damn liar! He deceives with his words, and even the name he picks is a deception!"

"Once I get home, I'll become a devoted fan of the male lead, cursing out that damned villain as my daily check-in, and sell off all his merchandise at rock-bottom prices—hah! The man looks absolutely nothing like his fan art! If it weren't for the fan art..."

Speaking of fan art, He Zhuoming glanced back at Lin Qingyun.

Lin Qingyun received her gaze and maintained his bright, harmless smile—though from the word "home" onward, he hadn't understood a single sentence in her long tirade.

But he could tell she was cursing at "Tang Shuyu."

He Zhuoming walked over and patted Lin Qingyun on the shoulder, speaking seriously: "You're much better-looking than the villain. Once I'm home, I'll use the power of money to hire the best artists to make you fan art, I promise I'll capture your beauty perfectly!"

Lin Qingyun said nothing, because he understood none of it, so he only smiled.

He Zhuoming picked up her shovel, stretched her arms, and said with vigor: "I'm well rested now! Let's go dig the pit—oh, and by the way, next time you talk, don't get so close to me."

Speaking those last words, He Zhuoming couldn't help touching her cheek, feeling as though the skin there still retained the cold touch of the earring.

Lin Qingyun lowered his eyes. "Why?"

He Zhuoming replied: "Because your earring is freezing cold, and it feels all weird and intimate when it touches my face... Why do you only wear one earring anyway?"

Lin Qingyun smiled cheerfully: "Ah, this earring is actually a star, you know. I only wear one because I haven't found another matching star yet."

He Zhuoming: "...So fake."

Lin Qingyun: "Hahahaha, is it? I thought it was pretty interesting!"

His tone had regained its lightness, his eyes curved into crescents as he smiled, sweet dimples floating on his cheeks, devoid of any pressure or menace—as if the malice he'd revealed when discussing parents had never existed at all.

And He Zhuoming remained utterly incapable of reading the room, completely oblivious to any hostility.

The weather was sweltering, and cicadas droned on without end.

Lin Qingyun found an auspicious spot, saying that burying the villagers there would ensure they reincarnated into good lives in their next existence. He Zhuoming couldn't help silently marveling: *Truly, the male lead is overflowing with kindness—he even considers the afterlife of the dead.*

In her opinion, everyone in this village should just drop dead. The villain tricking her into being sold was scum of the earth, and the village buying brides wasn't any better. Who cared if they came back as pigs or dogs in their next life!

If they really did become pigs and dogs, that would be an insult to the pigs and dogs.

While grumbling curses in her head, He Zhuoming diligently worked the shovel into the earth.

Beside her, Lin Qingyun dug as he listened to He Zhuoming curse out "Tang Shuyu" and the villagers as not even equal to pigs and dogs. As he listened, he began to laugh.

Xiao He cursed so politely.