Looking at the piles of demon corpses as large as small hills, the disciples of Tai Xuan Sect couldn't help but feel a headache coming on.
In the warmth of spring, the stench of rotting flesh would soon attract swarms of flies and mosquitoes.
Xu Junlan, ever vigilant, immediately steered the battle skiff to a distant spot—terrified that someone might get the bright idea of using it to haul carcasses.
Who would want to keep a skiff after transporting that?
"Heh," Master Yuan sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Can't even spare a single skiff, yet you expect to lead this sect? If this is how you act as a candidate for sect master, what a joke."
Bai Yi and the others scoffed. "Listen to this old coot!"
Xu Junlan stood to the side, tilting her head and curling her fingers in a mocking imitation of Master Yuan's mannerisms.
Master Yuan's face darkened with rage. "You brats—have you no respect for your elders?!"
"Enough, enough!" Luo Luo quickly stepped in to mediate. "Uncles, aunts, seniors—listen to me for a moment."
The group turned to her expectantly. "Does little junior sister have a way to deal with these demon corpses?"
"Nope." Luo Luo shook her head honestly. "I was just going to say—there's no rush. We'll probably get more soon anyway."
Everyone: "..."
That ominous remark was depressingly accurate.
With the Sealed God Hall compromised, demons would eventually break free from the underworld and wreak havoc.
A few more corpses wouldn't make much difference then.
"Zhao Yu," Xu Junzhu called, gesturing. "Prepare some preservative and insect-repellent powder. We can't let flies spread disease to the villages below."
"On it!"
"Bai Yi, Yang Zhao, Nan Gong Lingyu." Xu Junzhu assigned tasks swiftly. "Tend to the wounded and inspect the mountain's defensive arrays."
"Understood!"
Xu Junzhu's voice was firm. "Deploy the crane puppets. Gather intelligence from every region—quickly."
She issued orders one after another, and the cleanup proceeded with smooth efficiency.
The chaos gradually subsided as everyone settled into their roles.
Master Yuan stood off to the side, arms crossed, his lips pressed into a thin line. After a moment, he scoffed. "Tch. Just like Leng Xue—only good for handling trivial nonsense!"
"Ohhh, 'just like Leng Xue'?" Elder Bai drawled, grinning. "So you do think Xu Junzhu is doing well? Admitting defeat, old man?"
Master Yuan flicked his sleeve. "As if I care about these petty affairs. Annoying, the lot of them!"
He stormed off, then suddenly whirled back. "Not that I give a damn, hmph!"
Elder Bai waved him off. "Sure, sure. Whatever makes you happy."
Mirror Twin Peak.
Luo Luo stood before the Radiant Pavilion.
Li Zhaoye had cleared out her room entirely, leaving the doors wide open, dust motes drifting lazily in the air.
She pointed at the empty space in front of the pavilion, then at the corpse puppet's waist. "This is where I stabbed Chen Xuanyi—his combat instincts were terrible!"
Li Zhaoye strolled over and ruffled her hair.
Luo Luo ducked slightly, muttering under her breath, "Chen Xuanyi was useless, and his disciple wasn't much better."
Li Zhaoye arched a brow.
"I thought you weren't going to bring this up." His hand slid down, hooking around her shoulders to pull her against him. "The old man's just... gone. Feels like a dream, doesn't it?"
Luo Luo was silent for a beat. "...Yeah."
Li Zhaoye rummaged through his spatial pouch, pulling out items one by one to show her.
A tiny wooden bowl and spoon. A palm-sized wooden horse. A thin, well-worn undergarment.
Each piece bore delicate carvings or embroideries of a sprouting grain stalk.
Luo Luo studied them quietly. "His things?"
Li Zhaoye nodded. "Mm."
She pressed her lips together. "I see..."
Li Zhaoye had mentioned before—how the old man kept relics from the past, each marked with that same symbol.
Now that he was dead, his belongings had fallen into Li Zhaoye's hands.
Luo Luo's emotions tangled. "What a... person."
So cruel, yet so sentimental.
He murdered his parents, yet clung to the keepsakes they made for him.
He manipulated his disciples ruthlessly, yet couldn't let go of the past.
Family bonds, master-disciple ties, romantic love—he betrayed them all, yet each remained a weakness that could unravel him.
Luo Luo didn't understand him at all.
Li Zhaoye caught her puzzled expression and chuckled, glancing skyward. "Ah, he was just... an ordinary man."
Luo Luo blinked. "Him? Ordinary?"
"Of course." Li Zhaoye's tone was light, almost amused. "Indecisive. Contradictory. Too afraid to be good, too hesitant to be truly evil—isn't that what ordinary means?"
Luo Luo: "..."
That made a twisted kind of sense.
"Hey." Li Zhaoye nudged her with his shoulder. "Want to bet on it?"
"On what?"
He smirked, confidence oozing. "Whether he was ordinary. I say yes."
Luo Luo blinked slowly, playing along. "Then... I'll say no?"
"Deal." His grin widened. "If you lose, you do whatever I say."
"And if you lose?"
"I won't."
"...Right."
Luo Luo trailed behind Li Zhaoye as he entered the pavilion, laying Qing Xu's corpse on the bare bed.
He pressed fingers to his forehead, crushing the Soul Phantom Jade.
By now, Li Zhaoye was nearly proficient at weaving dreamscape illusions.
"Let's give him a chance to be ordinary. See for yourself."
With a backward tug, he pulled Luo Luo's spirit free, plunging them both into a scorching, sun-baked world.
"This is—"
Luo Luo found herself with wings again.
Third time's the charm.
Now a seasoned mosquito-spirit, she hovered effortlessly, scanning their surroundings.
Her gaze landed instantly on Li Ermiao.
This was a memory—the famine, the desperate flight.
Li Ermiao trudged beside his parents, lips cracked, cheeks hollow. Too weak even to beg for food.
Among the starving refugees, Li's father stood out like a deity—a burly farmer still clutching his sickle.
No one dared harass this family. Though weakened, they were still better off than most.
Li Ermiao's eyes kept darting to the pots lining the road.
Boiling water churned inside, chunks of meat bobbing—stringy, bony, unmistakably human.
The sight turned stomachs.
But he was so hungry.
His fingers plucked at his parents' sleeves, wordlessly pleading, saliva thick in his throat.
Father sighed, using his body to block his child's line of sight as he reassured him hoarsely, "Once we reach the mountains ahead, it'll be better. Your grandfather once dug up a kind of root there—it was quite tasty."
Li Ermiao pressed his lips together, turning his eyes away in resentment.
He didn’t believe it.
He had heard the story of "quenching thirst by thinking of plums," and his gaze kept accusing: Liar, liar, liar!
There was food. There were weapons.
Why wouldn’t they give him anything to eat? Why spin such lies?
At noon, he fell asleep curled against his mother.
He slept until dusk, the setting sun casting a dim, cold red glow over the world.
His mother was exhausted, so it was his father who carried him now.
The sickle hung around his father’s neck, so close that Li Ermiao’s fingers were just a breath away from it.
He stared at it dazedly.
His cracked lips trembled slightly, his eyes flickering wildly.
He was starving.
"I heard it… I heard it…" He couldn’t tell if the voices he’d heard were real or part of a dream, murmuring silently, brokenly, "You were going to trade me for someone else to eat… I heard everything…"
As if possessed, he reached out to touch the sickle.
His father had sharpened it to a fine edge—just a light cut, and flesh would part.
"Meat… meat…"
His weak fingers closed around the handle.
Just one quick pull inward…
Li's father looked down.
The moment he saw the small hand gripping the blade, he held his breath, afraid any sudden movement might startle the boy and make him cut himself.
That split-second hesitation was all it took.
The blade pressed against his pulsing vein.
Blood could have sprayed three feet in the next instant.
But in the nick of time, a large, fierce mosquito dove down and bit Li Ermiao’s hand.
Li Ermiao was far too weak and too frantic.
Startled by the sudden sting, he jerked violently—and dropped the blade.
The sickle clattered against his father’s chest.
"Ah Miao, what’s wrong?"
Li Ermiao’s pupils shook as he whispered, "I dreamed of bad people…"
"Don’t be scared, don’t be scared." His mother lifted a hand, gently patting his back. "Your father’s here. No bad people would dare come near."
"Mm… mm."
Guiltily, Li Ermiao lowered his eyes.
Li Zhaoye, mission accomplished, flew back to Luo Luo’s side, flaunting his wings with a flourish.
Luo Luo: "…"
She flipped onto her back, hovering upside down just to spite him.
Li Zhaoye laughed so hard he nearly tumbled midair. "You really are the most infuriating mosquito!"
Luo Luo secretly stuck her tongue out at him.
She was an utterly adorable mosquito, thank you very much.
Just a tiny ripple—a single mosquito bite—and Li Ermiao’s patricide was thwarted.
"A single thought’s difference," Li Zhaoye buzzed, amused.
The next day, the family of three finally reached the valley.
Every scrap of bark had been stripped from the trees. No birds, no beasts—not even a grasshopper could be found.
Li Ermiao pouted, sulking.
Li's father tilted his head. "Come."
With the last of his strength, he led his wife and son up the mountainside, settling them in a cave.
Then, sickle in hand, he dug up the same tasteless roots Luo Luo remembered—brittle, crumbling at a touch—and shaped them into rough cakes for his family.
Li Ermiao’s eyes widened in shock.
"There really was food… there really was…"
Li Zhaoye hovered beside Luo Luo.
Calmly, he told her, "The old man once got drunk and rambled about these roots. Kept saying they were edible. I thought they’d taste better."
Luo Luo’s heart clenched.
By the time Li Ermiao learned the truth—that the roots could sustain them—it was already too late.
Just half a day.
If he had waited just half a day, he would have known his father hadn’t lied. That food was within reach.
But alas—a single thought’s difference, and an eternity of regret.
Luo Luo watched the family in the cave, sorrow twisting inside her. Li Ermiao clutched the crude "cake," devouring it with tears streaming down his face.
Li Zhaoye’s voice was dry. "When you ate this stuff, you looked even more like a starving ghost."
Luo Luo: "…"
This guy truly was a master at ruining the mood.
She turned and bit him hard, ruffling his obnoxiously fluffy fur.
With enough to eat, the family made it safely to Guangling Prefecture.
Walking through the long gate tunnel, Li Ermiao craned his neck, marveling at everything. Ahead, the exit shone blindingly white—beautiful, like a mirage.
Luo Luo sighed quietly.
In his nightmares, that tunnel had become a symbol of life.
Even as a monstrous giant, part of him still longed for someone to lead "Li Ermiao" out of hell.
"He could have had this."
In Guangling, Li's father—hardworking and skilled—quickly found work as a carpenter. His employer provided room and board for the whole family, with generous wages.
Life improved swiftly, dreamlike in its comfort.
Li Ermiao lay in warm bedding, staring blankly at the ceiling beams.
Luo Luo wondered aloud, "Is he thinking how close he came to killing his father? How lucky he didn’t, or this good life wouldn’t exist."
Li Zhaoye chuckled. "No."
Before she could ask why, Li Ermiao’s muttering reached them:
"If we’d arrived just half a day sooner, we could’ve joined the immortal sect’s labor recruitment! Half a day, Mother! We might’ve become immortals!"
Luo Luo was speechless.
Li Zhaoye smirked. "Mortals never treasure what they have."
After a long pause, Luo Luo sighed.
Time flowed like water.
Li Ermiao grew older. Sometimes, while helping his mother at the market, he passed the South Wind Pavilion.
His mother would always spit in disgust. "Men selling their bodies—disgraceful!"
Li Ermiao copied her. "Shameless!" he’d declare, shaking his head.
Their employer was kind, letting Li Ermiao study alongside his own son.
Now a scholar, he had grown strikingly handsome—fair skin, long peach-blossom eyes, red lips, and a slender frame.
He turned heads wherever he went. Even the employer’s youngest daughter had fallen for him.
Beneath the ginkgo tree, the young lady stood like a dream, cheeks flushed with first love.
He was thrilled—a poor scholar marrying his benefactor’s daughter? Wasn’t that the stuff of legends?
Her family would surely pave his way to success.
Shyly, she whispered, "After the new year, I’ll tell Father. Ah Miao, I—I’ll marry no one but you!"
"Will he agree?"
"If he refuses, I’ll die!"
"No, no—you must persuade him gently."
"Yes, yes, I will!"
Li Ermiao appeared calm on the surface, but his fingers, clenched behind his back, had turned red.
For a while after that, he didn’t see the young lady sneaking out again.
As the year drew to a close, his face grew more anxious by the day, and his studies became increasingly disorganized.
Then, one day, as he entered the house, he bumped into the master, who was rushing out the door.
The master strode past the threshold without even glancing at him, his face dark as storm clouds. He tilted his head and ordered his attendants, "Daring to steal from me? Truly a toad lusting after swan meat! Find out who it is, stuff them in a sack, and throw them into the river!"
Li Ermiao was terrified.
Sweat poured down his forehead, his face turned deathly pale, and he staggered back to his quarters before collapsing onto his bed with a thud.
"It’s over, it’s over…"
"She wouldn’t betray me, would she?"
"No, I have to think of something. I can’t let the master suspect me!"
He jumped up and paced frantically around the room.
When Li’s mother returned, Li Ermiao stumbled toward her as if grasping at a lifeline. "Mother, arrange a marriage for me."
Li’s mother was stunned. "But you wanted to focus on your studies, to wait until you passed the imperial exams—"
Li Ermiao cut her off urgently. "There’s no time! I need to get married immediately. The tofu seller’s daughter from the back alley, or Sanya, the servant girl from the main compound—weren’t they both interested in marrying into our family? Mother, hurry and settle on a bride for me. I’m not picky. I’ll accept whoever you choose!"
"Well… if you insist!" Li’s mother nodded and set about making arrangements.
Before the New Year, Li Ermiao married a plain but earnest wife.
Poor families didn’t have elaborate wedding ceremonies.
They simply tidied up the house, laid out new bedding, pasted red "double happiness" characters on the walls, set off a few strings of firecrackers, and hosted a modest feast.
The newlyweds entered their home in high spirits.
When the young lady heard the news, she nearly lost her mind. She sent someone to deliver a letter to Li Ermiao, asking him to meet her under the ginkgo tree.
Li Ermiao didn’t dare go.
"The young lady must have misunderstood me," he told the messenger. "I’ve never had such feelings for her. Now that I’m married, I just want to live a quiet life. Tell her to listen to her father and find someone of equal standing."
His inner turmoil and fear didn’t escape Luo Luo’s notice.
Perched on a ginkgo leaf, she watched as the faint scent of firecrackers drifted through the courtyard, brushing against the down on her head.
"He really does seem like just an ordinary man."
After the wedding, the ordinary Li Ermiao settled into an ordinary life.
On the day the young lady married, he finally released the breath he’d been holding for so long and drank heavily with Li’s father.
Flushed with alcohol, he deliberately brought up the young lady. "Father, was the young lady ever interested in some poor boy? I heard the master was furious, threatening to throw someone into the river."
Li’s father waved a hand. "Nothing like that! The master always said the young lady’s marriage was entirely her own choice."
Li Ermiao froze. "But I clearly heard the master say something about throwing someone into the river…"
Li’s father laughed. "Ah, that must’ve been about business matters."
Li Ermiao felt as if he’d been struck by lightning.
Dazed, he returned to his room, pushing away his wife’s outstretched hand before collapsing onto the bed like a dead dog.
Life went on as usual.
Time flew, and Luo Luo watched as he grew into middle age.
His mundane existence kept him from doing anything truly wicked.
He became a schoolteacher. Far from harming or killing anyone, he would silently swallow his grievances even when cheated at the market, never daring to confront the offenders.
After a thunderstorm, he found a nest of baby birds outside the courtyard.
He brought them home and set up a warm, dry nest for them under the eaves.
Though he claimed to let them roam freely, he was surprisingly attentive—always covering them with oilcloth during storms and scattering grains in the yard when he returned from trips.
The birds grew, left the nest, and flew farther each day.
They became full-fledged adults.
Eventually, one by one, they flew away and never returned.
Luo Luo sidled up to Li Zhaoye, their wings touching.
Watching Li Ermiao care for the birds, scenes from the past eleven years flashed before her eyes.
"He raised us just like he raised them," she said, turning to Li Zhaoye. "If he doesn’t do evil, if that cruel ‘malevolent soul’ never emerges, then this is all he is—an utterly ordinary man."
Li Zhaoye: "Figured it out?"
"Mm!" Luo Luo nodded. "This is him—his remnant soul. You didn’t erase him completely. Instead, you gave him a dream world."
She looked at him, her heart aching faintly.
"Hey, hey," Li Zhaoye nudged her head away with a mosquito leg. "Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t do it out of pity."
"Right, right."
"Tch." He scowled. "Did you forget we promised to take care of him in his old age? A promise is a promise."
"Mm-hmm."
In the dream world, Li Ermiao grew older day by day.
His parents passed away one after another.
Then his wife died, leaving him a widower.
The world felt vast, and he was utterly alone.
He came and went in solitude, his back bending further with time, his eyes growing cloudier.
"Looks pitiful," Luo Luo murmured. "He doesn’t even know two mosquitoes have been keeping him company all this time."
Li Zhaoye chuckled. "Pretty sure he wouldn’t want that."
The sun rose and the moon set.
Finally, one day, the white-haired Li Ermiao tripped over the threshold.
Once he fell, he couldn’t get up again.
A kind neighbor carried him to bed, returning daily to feed him gruel and change his straw mat.
On his deathbed, two mosquitoes landed before him.
"Well?" Li Zhaoye said smugly. "See? Just an ordinary man—I win."
Luo Luo nodded. "You win."
How could she not know? He’d done this mostly for her.
He was helping her "leave the nest."
Watching the old man on the bed slip away, she felt like one of the birds under the eaves—saying goodbye to him, and to her past self.
‘Master… it’s time for you to go. And for me to move on.’
The dream world dissolved before her eyes.
Suddenly, the old man on the bed rallied, his eyes snapping open to fixate on the two mosquitoes.
A guttural rasp escaped his throat.
His eyes widened, his face flushing red as he mustered every ounce of strength to bellow:
"Beware the Sage! Beware—beware!"
The force of that outburst was terrifying.
The dream world shattered instantly, Li Ermiao’s aged face overlapping with Qing Xu’s corpse before Luo Luo’s eyes.
Even the long-dead body’s eyes flew open.
Li Zhaoye reached out, trying to close them.
They wouldn’t shut.
"What’s this about?" He narrowed his eyes. "The old man’s refusing to rest in peace?"
Luo Luo’s heart still hadn’t settled from the shock.
The corpse on the bed lay with eyes wide open, the echo of that explosive sound still ringing in their ears.
"Beware of the Sage?"
Li Zhaoye tugged several times, but Qing Xu’s eyelids simply wouldn’t close.
"Fine, fine," he said dismissively. "We’ll be careful around that guy, alright?"
Still, they wouldn’t shut.
Li Zhaoye gritted his teeth and tried again—no luck.
"Tch," he muttered. "I bet he found something about Hongmeng Jun. Old man, I’ll look into it. Now close your eyes."
He nudged Luo Luo with his elbow. "He’s obviously worried about you. Tell him you won’t trust that guy blindly."
Luo Luo mumbled, "Even though I believe the Sage is a good person… I’ll be careful."
Li Zhaoye scoffed. "Seriously? Listen to yourself. Are those eyes ever going to close?"
Luo Luo fell silent.
She stared at her master’s corpse for a long moment.
Then, it hit her.
"Wait, Li Zhaoye," she said. "Master knew everything—he was acting in the dream realm! How could he possibly be just an ordinary person?"
Li Zhaoye sucked in a breath. "Hah!"
Luo Luo blinked. "...So, I win?"
With a soft snap, the corpse that had refused to rest finally closed its eyes—content at last.
