A Misstep, but Even a Horse Can Stumble, and the Male Lead Is Good…

He Zhuoming was deeply moved, her eyes welling with tears as she took the roasted wild bird. She looked at Lin Qingyun and said, "Qingyun... you're really such a good person..."

Lin Qingyun smiled and reminded her, "The bird's not hot anymore, you can eat it directly."

He Zhuoming touched it and was utterly amazed. "Really! Why?"

Lin Qingyun: "Why? I have no idea—"

He spoke with a smile, his face tilted toward He Zhuoming as he watched her happily tear off a wing and take a bite, the grease making her lips glisten.

Roasted meat wouldn't naturally cool to a mouth-friendly temperature the moment it finished cooking, but Lin Qingyun could make it so.

He observed He Zhuoming's reactions—whether she was burning her fingers and biting them, or tearing at the meat—all of it was oddly entertaining.

He Zhuoming asked, "Why aren't you roasting more?"

Lin Qingyun countered, "You want more?"

He Zhuoming: "Aren't you going to eat?"

Lin Qingyun said, "I've reached the stage of fasting from grain; I don't get hungry."

Hearing this, He Zhuoming slowed her movements as she broke apart the bones, a clearly thoughtful expression surfacing on her face, which couldn't hide anything.

She fell silent for a moment, but Lin Qingyun wasn't in a hurry. He poked at the campfire with a wooden stick, stirring the flames brighter.

The new graves around them were utterly silent, cowed by his presence, not even a wisp of chilling yin energy seeping out.

After fiddling with the bones for a while, He Zhuoming made up her mind and asked, "Qingyun, does your sect still take in new disciples?"

Lin Qingyun: "You know which sect I'm from?"

He Zhuoming: "I saw your sect token."

Lin Qingyun thought for a moment, then it dawned on him—he unclasped the wooden token from his waist and held it in his palm. The firelight flickered across its surface, making the crabapple blossom patterns on it seem all the more captivating.

Lin Qingyun turned his palm over, angling the token toward He Zhuoming. "Xiao He, but there's no sect name written on it here—"

He Zhuoming: "…"

A misstep.

But even a horse can stumble, and even a man can slip up; the male lead is a good person, so it's not a big deal.

Guiltily avoiding his gaze, he said, "Actually, I recognized you from your name…"

Before she could finish, Lin Qingyun reached out and pressed her head, turning it toward himself.

With nowhere to look, He Zhuoming met his smiling face. She dropped her gaze, not daring to look him in the eyes, and instead fixed on Lin Qingyun's neck—a shadow of his jaw slanted across it, faint veins visible, and his Adam's apple quite prominent.

Lin Qingyun's voice stayed its usual soft and light tone as he reminded her, "I told you, when you talk to me, you have to look at me!"

He Zhuoming pried his hand off her head. "Got it, got it—next time just tell me, don't keep twisting my head around. It's weird!"

Lin Qingyun agreed readily. "Alright, then."

He liked to tack on little particles when he spoke, and his tone was soft, making him sound like he was cooing after a few exchanges—yet that manner of speech wasn't at all incongruous with his looks.

He Zhuoming had been talking with him for the past couple of days, getting used to his verbal tics, and nothing seemed off—indeed, because Lin Qingyun's tone sounded like coaxing, she often felt he was an easygoing person, and failed to realize that his habit of directly twisting people's heads to force eye contact was, in essence, a willful rudeness that had never been challenged by anyone.

"Still, am I really that famous? Xiao He recognized me the moment she saw a token with my name on it, huh?"

He Zhuoming's heart raced at the question. She tried hard to recall just how famous the male lead was in the original book—she couldn't be sure. It seemed like he gained some modest renown after clearing a few dungeons, but which point in the timeline was this male lead from?

Her gaze, fueled by guilt, drifted down again until she was staring only at Lin Qingyun's collar. She murmured, "It's just, well, I overheard some passersby talking... saying you're an accomplished disciple of a prestigious sect—something like that."

She remembered that the original male lead had indeed been taken under the wing of a True Deity, though she couldn't recall which one.

The fire burned hot against He Zhuoming's cheeks. She truly wasn't good at lying, and as the last syllable faded weakly from her lips, she unconsciously turned her face away again.

Lin Qingyun saw the tips of her ears, red enough to drip blood among her messy black hair, and her lips trembling slightly from unease.

All at once, he lost interest in pressing further.

There was no fun in bullying Xiao He; ask a few more questions and she might just start crying.

Lin Qingyun stood up and said, "It's getting late, let's head back and rest—if you want to cultivate, you don't need to join a sect. I can teach you directly. Starting tomorrow."

He Zhuoming was both surprised and delighted. "Really?"

Lin Qingyun looked down at her flushed face and smiled lightly. "Of course. It's just a small matter."

And such a small matter could make Xiao He happy—

Lin Qingyun extinguished the campfire, and the two of them walked single file through the rice paddies.

It was a clear night; the moonlight was bright as a glossy lip gloss, spread across the ridges of the fields. The air brimmed with a warmth like being soaked in hot water, and the chirping of cicadas and insects rippled through that warm layer.

Because He Zhuoming wasn't used to walking on dirt paths—especially at night—she moved slowly, stumbling a little. But fortunately, Lin Qingyun wasn't walking fast either. Every time He Zhuoming looked up, she would see him just three paces ahead of her.

A few fireflies flew out from the rice paddies, darting across the three-pace gap between He Zhuoming and Lin Qingyun.

The earring hanging from his left ear swayed and glinted, always drawing He Zhuoming's gaze—like a cat lured by a red dot.

They were walking along without trouble when, suddenly, from the pitch-black mountain forest in the distance, a piercing, long howl of a wild beast echoed out.

Startled, He Zhuoming pressed against Lin Qingyun's back and grabbed his arm. "What was that sound?!"

Lin Qingyun raised a hand to shield her, then turned to look toward the forest. "A wild beast, probably."

He Zhuoming's eyes were wide. "A wild beast? What kind of beast?"

Lin Qingyun: "A snake or an earthworm, something like that."

He spoke flippantly, yet oddly enough, it made He Zhuoming less afraid.

She slapped his forearm. "Nonsense. Snakes and earthworms don't make sounds—"

Suddenly, Lin Qingyun poked her nape with his finger and deliberately made a hissing sound like a snake. Sure enough, He Zhuoming jumped in fright, nearly leaping into the rice paddy beside them.

Lin Qingyun burst out laughing, and as he laughed, he grabbed He Zhuoming's arm and pulled her in front of him. "Don't be scared, don't be scared—I was just teasing you. Snakes do hiss, after all."

He Zhuoming, terrified to the point of tears, angrily smacked the back of Lin Qingyun's hand.

He didn't release her arm even after being hit, but smiled and playfully shook it. "Don't be mad. I just wanted to help you relax, that's all."

He Zhuoming wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and sulked, refusing to acknowledge him.

He still held her arm, bending halfway down to bring his face close, with two symmetrical dimples floating at the corners of his smiling lips.

"How about this, hm—I'll grant you one wish, how does that sound?"

He Zhuoming stared at his face for a moment, then pouted and deliberately turned her head away. "I'm not mad anymore."

Hearing this, Lin Qingyun immediately let go of her arm and let out an obvious sigh of relief. "Phew—good."

He Zhuoming: "But the wish still counts, right?"

Lin Qingyun nodded. "Counts, counts. Make your wish."

He Zhuoming thought for a moment, then said, "I haven't thought of one yet. I'll tell you when I do."

Lin Qingyun enthusiastically offered a suggestion. "Aren't you trying to get home to your parents? You could wish for me to send you back."

He Zhuoming waved her hand. "That's too hard. You can't do it!"

Lin Qingyun was displeased. "You haven't even tried, so how do you know I can't? I'm pretty impressive, you know!"

He Zhuoming: "I don't need to try. I just know."

After all, this was a leveling-up novel—the male lead wouldn't become the strongest until the final climax when he defeated the ultimate villain, Tang Shuyu.

The current male lead wasn't even the strongest yet; how could he possibly have a way to send her home?

The two walked and chatted, gradually leaving behind the mountain peak where the beast's howl had come from. He Zhuoming was too busy dealing with Lin Qingyun to remember to look back—if she had turned around at that moment, she would have seen a blue-white dragon sweeping its tail across the night sky over the mountaintop.

Back at the farmhouse, He Zhuoming smelled herself and caught a mix of dirt and blood. She resolved to take another bath.

The firewood shed still held the dirty clothes she'd changed out of yesterday—while drawing water, He Zhuoming asked Lin Qingyun if there was a spell that could instantly clean dirty clothes.

Lin Qingyun said matter-of-factly, "Just throw the clothes away when you're done with them. Why bother making them clean?"