This uninvited guest looked like a god of slaughter who had walked out of the biting north wind. Just standing there was enough to make breathing difficult.
The air pressed heavily on Chen Lian’s shoulders, leaving him unable to resist. His gaze didn’t even dare meet the other’s.
Chen Lian’s face was still pinned ruthlessly to the ground by a war boot. He couldn’t lift his head and could only mumble, “Mmph… You? Who are… you?”
As half a cultivator after all, the moment Chen Lian spoke, a name flashed through his mind.
With such an overwhelmingly powerful divine graven that could even stir changes in the heavens, this figure was most likely the original god of this land.
“Cang… Cangyu…”
The moment the two words left his mouth, Chen Lian’s eyes bulged wide, and he abruptly coughed up a mouthful of blood.
“My dharma name is not something you have the ability to invoke yet.”
The man moved his boot away and dropped the words lightly.
For ascendant cultivators, the stronger the divine graven, the more intense the backlash when mortals invoked their names.
Before “Cangyu” could fully leave his lips, half of the organs in Chen Lian’s body had ruptured, and his sea of consciousness nearly burst apart.
This was Fragrant Ze Mountain’s Mountain God, Cangyu True Monarch.
He raised his hand, and the sound of clanging sword cries rang out from a nearby valley.
Then, a silver sword covered in plum blossom cracks shot out in an instant, slicing through the icy wind before landing precisely in the Mountain God’s palm.
Wenren Sheng rubbed his eyes and barely made out the name above the sword’s guard.
Color Kill.
This was the Mountain God’s matching sword.
The silver flash that had streaked past Wenren Sheng earlier was precisely this “Color Kill.”
The Mountain God twirled a sword flower, and Color Kill’s tip pointed squarely at the center of his shoulder blade.
He spoke slowly, “Sword Cultivator, why have you come here?”
His voice was deep, evoking snow-laden green pines. It didn’t seem heard through the ears but poured directly into the mind.
Others might find it terrifying, but Wenren Sheng felt much more at ease. The grip on his bundle slowly relaxed.
Great, he had finally waited for him this time.
As expected, the Mountain God was the gentle immortal who wouldn’t even harm an ant, willing to help even a little beggar like him.
Chen Lian felt none of that “gentleness.” His jaw trembled nonstop as he shakily spat out a few words.
“It’s that… that monster. H-he stole my things! I came to get them back!”
Wenren Sheng pursed his lips and huffed lightly, “The one with the long tail is the monster. I’m a mortal. I don’t have a tail.”
With that, he guiltily glanced at the Mountain God.
Fortunately, the Mountain God showed no reaction. His gaze fixed straight on Chen Lian, golden pupils gleaming as the sword tip hovered behind Chen Lian for a moment.
“You have a mixed spirit root,” he mused, “and you’re not yet at the stage where you need to refine mortals to advance your cultivation.”
Feeling the sting at his back, Chen Lian had no time for more lies and burst into loud sobs. “No no no, Mountain God, don’t extract my spirit root! I swear I won’t come here again. Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to!”
He cried while clawing at the ground desperately, trying to wriggle free from under the Mountain God’s foot.
But it was like a massive boulder weighed on his back; no matter how he dug, he didn’t budge an inch.
The Mountain God didn’t respond. Color Kill paused for a moment in his hand before shifting slightly toward Wenren Sheng in front of Chen Lian.
“Hurting one of my people damages my merit,” he said. “If you can obtain his forgiveness, I’ll let you go.”
My people.
Wenren Sheng silently repeated the words in his heart.
Did that mean he was now under the Mountain God’s protection too?
He couldn’t help feeling a bit happy inside, sensing he was one step closer to his goal of gaining a family.
Great, keep pushing!
If the Mountain God weren’t there, he would have wanted to shift back to his original form and roll around in the snow.
Wenren Sheng was thrilled, but Chen Lian was so furious his teeth nearly shattered.
He had nitpicked with Wenren Sheng for so many years. No one had ever protected this homeless brat. Apologizing to him was no different from flaying his own face.
But with the current situation, if he didn’t apologize, the Mountain God might cripple him outright, torching all his cultivation from the first half of his life.
After weighing it over and over, Chen Lian finally squeezed out in a low voice.
“Sorry, Wenren Sheng,” he rasped. “I won’t bother you anymore.”
Wenren Sheng paid no mind to what the man was saying. His gaze was entirely fixed on the Color Kill in the Mountain God’s hand.
So cool… I love it!
He had his own little wooden sword, carved bit by bit after the heavy sword in Cangyu True Monarch’s statue.
“Shall I let him go?” the Mountain God suddenly asked.
Seeing the Mountain God address him, Wenren Sheng quickly pulled back his gaze, shook his head, and tried to look like he was seriously pondering.
Finally, he nodded vigorously and said, “Yeah, let him off this time!”
The moment the words left his mouth, a light chuckle sounded in his ear again.
Wenren Sheng froze.
He laughed?
Had he… misheard?
Before he could react, Chen Lian on the ground let out a wail, his eyes rolled back, and he fainted dead away.
Whether from sheer terror or blood loss, who could say.
The Mountain God’s expression didn’t change. He sheathed Color Kill and slowly turned sideways, his gaze falling on Wenren Sheng nearby.
Seeing this, Wenren Sheng immediately scampered forward a couple steps like a good student called on by the teacher, stopping right in front of the Mountain God.
He curiously craned his neck to look up at the Mountain God. His face was filthy, but his clear pupils sparkled with pure brightness.
His gaze held no evasion, seemingly unaffected by the divine graven’s pressure at all. His eyes brimmed with eager excitement.
Paired with his poor, pitiful, destitute appearance, Wenren Sheng was just short of blurting out, “I want to follow you.”
The Mountain God: “…”
After a long silence, the Mountain God rubbed his forehead helplessly. “I’m not your dad. Don’t look at me like that.”
Wenren Sheng didn’t understand and blinked, slowly opening his mouth. “You’re Cangyu…”
Before the next two words could come out, Wenren Sheng felt his upper and lower lips glue together; he couldn’t pry them apart no matter what.
“Mmph!”
“Silence Curse. It’ll wear off in a moment,” the Mountain God kicked aside the unconscious Chen Lian and said to Wenren Sheng while rubbing his waist, “Call me He Mu. That name won’t affect you.”
He Mu… A name he’d never heard.
But exchanging names was the first step to becoming family.
Wenren Sheng nodded obediently.
He Mu didn’t respond to him. Instead, he crouched down and casually hooked a finger on one of Wenren Sheng’s wrinkled lapels. “Why are you so dirty all over? Got bullied?”
Wenren Sheng felt too embarrassed to admit he’d done it on purpose. He swallowed and shook his head vigorously, gesturing with his hands.
Fell… on the way… up the mountain… once.
After gesturing, he sneaked a couple peeks at He Mu.
He was too small. Only when He Mu crouched did Wenren Sheng get a clear look at his face—sharp and handsome features, a very young visage. The crimson gold in his pupils had faded to a cold gray, like a pool of icy water.
Having just summoned Color Kill, cold air still lingered around He Mu, not exactly gentle. But Wenren Sheng sensed no overt hostility from him.
Instead, there was a wintry aura that put Wenren Sheng right at ease.
“I’m going to lift your Silence Curse now,” He Mu said, steadying Wenren Sheng’s shoulders with a reminder. “Remember, don’t invoke my dharma name unless you want to end up like him.”
Wenren Sheng nodded quickly.
The moment he agreed, he felt his lips part, a puff of white breath escaping between them.
He brightened up at once, eyes curving into a sweet smile for He Mu.
“Thanks, Mountain God.”
Seeing him smile, He Mu’s lips unconsciously curved up too.
“You’re a monster?” he couldn’t help asking. “A little dog demon?”
“Not a little dog,” Wenren Sheng said earnestly. “Just an ordinary mortal.”
With that, he guiltily covered the base of his tail and added softly, “No tail.”
“Oh, no tail.”
He Mu repeated it, glancing at the faintly visible, swaying furry tail behind Wenren Sheng.
Looks like not just a little monster, but a particularly dumb one.
He Mu had ascended to godhood via the Emotionless Dao, granting him eyes that pierced through spirit bodies. Wenren Sheng’s minor shapeshift spell was child’s play to him.
He saw right through it: Wenren Sheng was Fragrant Ze Mountain’s snow wolf.
He’d spotted this little wolf from afar a few times before. It seemed friendless, always wandering alone.
Coming to the Divine Temple alone probably meant it had heard he was returning to Fragrant Ze Mountain lately and came specifically seeking protection.
Tch, what to do with him?
He Mu rubbed his chin, troubled.
Maybe… just leave him here and ignore him? This snowy mountain was his home, after all; he’d survive on his own, right…?
He looked at Wenren Sheng and probed, “No other friends? Ostracized?”
“Not ostracized.” Wenren Sheng put on a cool expression. “I’m too mature to play with them.”
He Mu nodded. “Oh, I see.”
“Yeah!”
“…Alright.”
…
Perhaps due to a few centuries’ generation gap between them, after he responded, the two fell into a long silence again. Aside from the howling wind, all that remained was Chen Lian’s pained groans on the ground.
…
He Mu pressed his lips together, finally unable to endure it, and broke the awkward atmosphere.
He pointed at Chen Lian. “Then I’ll toss him down the mountain first. See you.”
With that, he turned to grab Chen Lian.
Wenren Sheng beside him suddenly snapped to attention, abruptly recalling the reason he’d come up the mountain today.
He hurriedly stopped him. “Wait, no!”
He Mu looked puzzled. “What’s wrong?”
“Fam… family…”
Halfway through, Wenren Sheng’s heart leaped to his throat. All his earlier worries and anxieties crashed over him at once.
Wait, should he say it?
If his monster identity got exposed, would the Mountain God just hate him outright?
What then?
Would he get chased off Fragrant Ze Mountain? Lose the only place he had to stay?
Wenren Sheng panicked at once, his head growing dizzy. He lowered his gaze desperately to his two shoe tips on the ground, trying to calm his racing heart.
He Mu seemed to notice Wenren Sheng’s unease and leaned in to stare at him.
“Nervous about what?”
Wenren Sheng’s ears turned beet red. He didn’t dare meet his eyes and stammered bashfully, “Please let me, um, take you in…”
“Uh, no no! You’re supposed to take me in…”
The kid’s mouth was clumsy; when nervous, he just jumbled words together.
He Mu couldn’t help chuckling lowly, soothing him. “Don’t be nervous. Take your time.”
Wenren Sheng swallowed, then seemed to remember something. He hurriedly took off his small bundle and set it on the ground.
He Mu raised a brow at his actions. “Looking for incense money?”
“I’m really poor. No money.”
Wenren Sheng answered honestly.
He Mu felt his question had been a bit stupid and awkwardly pressed his lips together, falling silent.
Wenren Sheng didn’t mind much. With his back to He Mu, he squatted and rummaged through his bundle noisily.
He Mu glanced at Wenren Sheng’s bundle a few times.
Small stature, but packed with stuff: cicada shells, snake skins, insect pupae, even a whole blue butterfly specimen, sandwiched among a pile of ugly clay figures. On top sat a little wooden sword.
He Mu narrowed his eyes, peering past Wenren Sheng’s dirty face at the wooden sword.
The carving was clumsy, clearly a beginner’s work, and the little owner’s arm strength was weak—many spots weren’t smoothed out.
At the hilt was a crooked line of text:
Endless Void Profound Firmament Calamity-Cleaving World-Supreme Divine Sword.
He Mu: “…”
