A Quiet Homecoming

He Zhuoming had suffered heatstroke.

Lin Qingyun could swear He Zhuoming hadn't been digging for even half an hour, and the hole she'd managed to carve out was so shallow it would barely have buried a dog. In stark contrast, his own labor had already produced three buried corpses.

But as they worked, he watched He Zhuoming topple over stiff as a board.

The ground was so hard—if Xiao He fell, she might just die on impact. To keep that from happening, Lin Qingyun caught her before she hit the dirt and moved her to a shady spot beneath a tree to rest.

He Zhuoming was down for the count, but Lin Qingyun still had work to do. He glanced at the corpses awaiting burial, sighed, and resignedly picked up his shovel to dig.

By the time He Zhuoming woke again, the sky had turned to a night lit by bright moonlight.

The auspicious spot Lin Qingyun had chosen was barren wasteland during the day, but now it was covered with burial mounds, marked by nameless gravestones, white funeral banners—even scattered spirit money on the ground.

A campfire burned in the middle of the grave mounds, giving off the aroma of food. Lin Qingyun was roasting meat in the middle of a freshly made graveyard.

He Zhuoming floated over unsteadily on weak legs, sat down beside Lin Qingyun, and opened her mouth to ask what it was—but the moment her lips parted, drool came out before words could.

She felt embarrassed, frantically wiped her chin with the edge of her sleeve, and swallowed the unasked question in awkward silence.

*I wonder if the male lead saw that.* He Zhuoming's heart was uncertain, and she shot what she thought was a cautious, subtle glance toward Lin Qingyun.

She met Lin Qingyun's smiling face gazing straight at her.

He Zhuoming was silent for a moment, then turned her face away, lightly slapping her own mouth in frustration. If only she'd eaten a few more steamed buns last night, she wouldn't be this hungry now.

Lin Qingyun asked, "I roasted a wild bird. Want some?"

He Zhuoming turned her face back toward the campfire, sat up straight, and said, "Yes."

Lin Qingyun chuckled and handed her the stick with the bird skewered on it, warning, "Just came off the fire. Careful, it's hot."

He Zhuoming held the roasted bird, tentatively trying to pull off a wing—only to immediately fling it back and forth with a hiss, her face twisting in pain.

She sucked on her reddened fingertips with small breaths, but her eyes stayed glued to the bird, refusing to look away. Yet she couldn't think of any way to rapidly cool it down, so she could only stare helplessly and fume in silent frustration.

While He Zhuoming waited hungrily for the bird to cool, Lin Qingyun pulled out another clean branch from who knew where and skewered a second skinned wild bird onto it.

Lin Qingyun: "Do you feel unwell anywhere else?"

He Zhuoming: "I'm so hungry... Does being hungry count as unwell?"

Lin Qingyun thought about it, then said with a smile, "I suppose it does. Other than that? Is your head dizzy? Do you feel nauseous?"

He Zhuoming answered seriously, "My head doesn't hurt, but I'm so hungry I feel a little sick. Sorry, I said I'd help you, but I ended up falling asleep on you."

Lin Qingyun: "...Xiao He, did it ever occur to you that you didn't fall asleep? You passed out from the heat—heatstroke."

He Zhuoming was stunned by this, shocked enough to even momentarily tear her gaze away from the roasted bird to look at Lin Qingyun. "That was heatstroke? I just felt sleepy and thought I was nodding off for an afternoon nap!"

He Zhuoming had never suffered heatstroke before—in her mind, she simply wasn't the kind of person who could get it.

Modern technology spoiled kids like that; all year round, industrial products could adjust the temperature to the most comfortable level. The worst illness He Zhuoming had ever had since childhood was a seasonal cold.

Lin Qingyun was stunned by her shock, and marveled, "Xiao He, it's a miracle you've survived this long."

He Zhuoming touched her own face and murmured, "It's not hot, though..."

Lin Qingyun: "Because I already pressed a wet handkerchief to your forehead."

He Zhuoming's gaze drifted back to the roasted bird. "Ah, I see... Thanks, roasted bird... No, wait! I mean... thank you, Qingyun—Qingyun, you're such a good person... I'll always remember your kindness..."

The bird had cooled down enough, and He Zhuoming was busy eating, unable to spare her mouth to express gratitude to the male lead.

Lin Qingyun slowly turned the stick to continue roasting, paying no mind to the fact that He Zhuoming's mouth was too full to talk, and asked casually, "You said before that you were deceived here by—'Tang Shuyu'... Your parents must be frantic, searching everywhere for you by now."

He Zhuoming hummed twice in acknowledgment.

Lin Qingyun: "So why go through the trouble of seeking out some relative? Wouldn't it be better to just go home straight to your parents?"

That question hit He Zhuoming's sorest spot. Suddenly, the meat in her mouth lost its flavor. Clutching the stick, she froze for a few seconds, and tears began to pour out in a race to fall.

He Zhuoming sobbed a few times, then wailed between hiccups, "I—I want my mom and dad too, waaaah... I want to go home so bad... Waaaah... I don't know how to get back, I—I don't even know how I—waaah—got here—"

She cried louder and louder, and with grave mounds all around, her halting sobs added a certain atmosphere to the burial ground.

Lin Qingyun pulled out his sleeve and wiped her face with it.

But He Zhuoming cried without end, soaking his sleeve completely through, yet her tears showed no sign of stopping.

Lin Qingyun looked at his drenched cuff, then switched to his other sleeve to keep wiping her face.

He certainly had plenty of ways to dry his sleeve. Because no matter how much Xiao He could cry, she was, after all, only one person with two eyes—the tears she could shed were quite limited. That bit of moisture, Lin Qingyun could easily peel away from his clothes and scatter onto whichever grave mound he pleased.

But he didn't do that.

The soaked fabric pressed against Lin Qingyun's wrist, and he felt as though He Zhuoming's tears were warmer than his own skin.

He spoke to her in a gentle voice, trying to soothe her: "It's all right. Don't you have me now? Tell me the whole story, and maybe I can think of a way to help."

*That way, I can find out where Xiao He grew up and how she ended up with such a foolish head on her shoulders.*

He Zhuoming grabbed Lin Qingyun's arm and harshly scrubbed her face against his relatively clean sleeve, wiping away the remaining tears.

She pressed so hard in that wipe that her entire face dragged from his wrist all the way to his palm.

Lin Qingyun's fingers twitched unnaturally, and the tendon connecting his fingers to his wrist abruptly pulled taut—his palm was scalded by another person's warmth, and he felt a moment of confusion.

He couldn't understand that sharp, numbing sensation in that instant—as if his palm had been slapped by an enemy with a lightning spiritual root.

He Zhuoming had cleaned her face using Lin Qingyun's sleeve without noticing the faint twitch in his fingertips, and said, "My home is very, very far away... I don't know exactly how far yet, but it's an extremely distant place."

"Ever since I arrived here, there's been something wrong with my memory. I can't remember a lot of things from before, and I don't recall how I even got to this place. The moment I arrived, I ran into that vicious villain... that Tang Shuyu! He tricked me into coming here and sold me off. And after that, I met you."

He Zhuoming did not tell Lin Qingyun that she had transmigrated from another world—her instincts told her that being a transmigrator was her deepest secret. Even back when she'd first arrived and been duped into a dizzying mess by the villain's younger self, He Zhuoming had guarded that secret fiercely.

The mention of the vicious villain reignited a nameless fury burning hotter in He Zhuoming's chest. With her eyes red as a rabbit's from crying, she slapped Lin Qingyun's thigh beside her and ground her teeth: "That little brat! That stinking pig! He even stole my backpack!"

Lin Qingyun's thigh made a sharp slap sound, but he seemed not to feel it at all and continued asking, "Do you remember where exactly you met that Tang Shuyu?"

Everything that had happened since transmigrating, He Zhuoming remembered with crystal clarity, and she answered with certainty: "I remember! It was a place called Wen County—I saw the inscribed stone tablet at the entrance!"

Lin Qingyun was surprised. "You can read?"

Because Xiao He often spoke in such a disjointed way, he'd half suspected she might be a little slow.

He Zhuoming puffed out her chest with great pride. "I was even a Pioneer youth member!"

Lin Qingyun didn't understand, but he smiled and praised her: "How impressive—"

He Zhuoming: "I also speak three foreign languages!"

Lin Qingyun: "Bird, dragon, and insect tongues?"

He Zhuoming: "No—English, French, and Japanese."

Lin Qingyun didn't understand, but still cheered her on: "Xiao He, I never would've guessed you were so exceptionally gifted."

He Zhuoming felt light as air from the praise. Her tear tracks had yet to dry before she broke into a smile, eyes curving into crescents.

Because she was smiling, Lin Qingyun stared at her face for a moment, lost in thought.

But he snapped out of it quickly and said, "I know of Wen County—I passed through it on my way into the mountains. Once we leave these hills, we can go take a look around. Maybe we'll find a clue as to why you appeared there, and..."

His smile suddenly turned even brighter, his voice light and cheerful: "...and catch that 'Tang Shuyu' who tricked you, and give him a lesson."

He Zhuoming would very much like to beat that lowlife, too, but recalling the vague memories from the original novel, Tang Shuyu seemed to be a villain with a heavy role—in the early stages, the male lead didn't even have the qualifications to meet him face to face; even into the middle of the story, he only learned the villain's name.

Because that's just how villains were! Cunning and treacherous! Like a rabbit with three burrows! Masters of concealment! Full of lies!

He Zhuoming asked worriedly, "Can you even beat him? He seems... seems pretty strong, a cultivator of no mean cultivation."

The villain she'd encountered was still in his youthful form, so wouldn't the male lead be even weaker now? But—

He Zhuoming looked at Lin Qingyun roasting the bird beside her and felt he looked strong no matter how she sized him up. Meanwhile, the young villain who'd needed to rely on trickery to sell her didn't seem as terrifying as the books had made him out to be.

This strange dissonance left He Zhuoming thoroughly confused.

Lin Qingyun handed her the newly roasted bird and said with a grin, "What's there to worry about? Let's just scope out the situation first. If we can take him, we fight; if we can't, we slip away quietly. I've got plenty of clever escape tricks, and I'll teach them to you when the chance comes."