Luo Yuan fell into the “quilt” made of piled red silk threads and regretted it at once.

She belatedly remembered what exactly these red threads were made of. Her body instantly stiffened into a block of stone, her back arched as she remained frozen in a prone position, not daring to move.

What made her even more rigid was that her hand and her head seemed to have touched another body inside the red cocoon. The sensation of pressing so closely against something cold was so vivid—so vivid that she almost couldn’t breathe, and her heart nearly stopped.

Before she could scare herself to death, the innermost curtain was pulled open. Sunlight poured in, illuminating everything.

Two elderly women walked in holding incense sticks. They lit the incense at the outermost layer, then knelt devoutly, pressing their bodies to the ground as they bowed their heads to the floor. Their voices were filled with endless worry and caution. “Clan Deity, your slumber this time was so brief. Is it because the matter of the offering did not allow you to fully recover?”

After a period of silence, Luo Yuan heard a voice coming from right above her head.

“Indeed, I have not recovered.”

The voice was like a hidden flowing spring—gentle, and unhurried.

With that reply, Luo Yuan felt the deity beside her move, as if he had sat up. Inevitably, he brushed against her. She felt a light sleeve sweep across her cheek, and her scalp tingled at once—probably because she had been traumatized by those white sleeves that night.

Discovering a foreign presence beside him, the deity seemed to pause for a moment, but then acted as though nothing had happened, sitting up from within the overlapping red silk threads. He sat in the center like a true god upon a shrine, making the two clan women outside too afraid to lift their heads.

“Everything happened because the Qin clan’s offspring in charge of the offering were negligent. They will receive the punishment they deserve.”

“To have failed to help you return to your full strength is our dereliction. Please reprimand us.”

The bodies of the two elderly clan women trembled. Their remorse and self-blame were palpable. In her terrified daze, Luo Yuan heard their hoarse voices and felt they had already begun to cry.

“A small punishment as a warning. Do not let it happen again.” That gentle, unhurried voice sounded once more, instantly sweeping away the gloom in one’s heart.

Regardless of how the two aged clan women reacted outside, Luo Yuan had already relaxed naturally. This was truly strange, because she was leaning against the back of a god who ate people—by all logic, she should have been terrified. Yet she seemed bewitched, not even hearing the brief conversation that followed. She only noticed the two clan women withdrawing.

She still lay motionless there, but the deity before her shifted. A hand extended from the white sleeve—a hand pale as snow, cold as frost—and brushed away the heap of red threads covering her face.

That night a few days ago, she had nearly been eaten by this deity. But at that time his form and movements had been extremely eerie. Now, just looking at him, he seemed more like a human.

A boy of seventeen or eighteen, about the same age as her younger sister. Beneath the veil of black hair was the face of an outstanding youth. He resembled a smiling statue that had sat in a shrine for a thousand years, maintaining an unchanging expression. The drifting incense smoke seemed to have carved out his calm eyes, which looked at her as though gazing through the human world.

Luo Yuan met his gaze blankly for a moment and felt she saw countless ethereal, chaotic things—yet none of them felt “human.” Even though he had a human appearance, those eyes carried a distinctly “non-human” feeling.

The deity from the high platform had come alive and now sat beside her, asking in a peaceful, faintly smiling voice, “Why are you lying here?”

The piled red threads wriggled of their own accord, slipping into the wide sleeves spread on either side of him.

“I—I was…” Luo Yuan scrambled up, lowering her head in embarrassment, not daring to look again at this deity who radiated an inexplicable aura of authority. “I think… I am an offering.”

“I see.” He spoke neither fast nor slow, his tone utterly calm and without ripples.

Hearing his gentle words, hope surged endlessly in Luo Yuan’s heart. She begged, “Since you are a deity, could you please let me leave safely?”

The clan deity still wore a smile as he asked her, “Have you ever killed someone?”

Luo Yuan concealed nothing. “Yes.”

The Clan Deity said, “Everyone harbors evil thoughts in their heart, but ‘evil’ only gathers within the body after one harms another. No matter the reason, if you have killed, then you possess evil sufficient for me to devour. Yet you are somewhat… unusual.”

Luo Yuan was confused. “I don’t know.” Before arriving here, she had never imagined that deities would still exist in this world.

The Clan Deity looked at her with a faint smile, shaking his head slightly, though she couldn’t tell what he meant. Luo Yuan was about to speak when she saw the two elderly women return, bringing with them a group of people dressed in white. They carried offerings in their hands, supporting light-red incense sticks.

No one dared to look directly at the Clan Deity in the center of the shrine, and naturally no one saw Luo Yuan hiding behind him. For reasons unknown, the deity did not reveal her presence. They replaced the offerings, lit the incense, performed practiced bows toward the Clan Deity, then retreated swiftly and in order.

Greenish smoke curled within the shrine. The Clan Deity, whom Luo Yuan had instinctively treated as a shield, looked at the smoke, gathered his sleeves, and stepped out—floated out—of the shrine. His hair drifted outward slightly, as if drawn by an invisible wind, and so did his sleeves, making others afraid to approach too closely. Luo Yuan froze for a moment, then followed him neither too near nor too far, trailing behind like a tail as he circled twice around. “You… are you performing some kind of ritual?”

The Clan Deity replied kindly, “Merely stepping out for a walk and some fresh air. The smoke is a bit choking.”

Luo Yuan had never expected this answer and was stunned. A walk? He was clearly floating. And the smoke… choking? Granted, the smoke was a little choking, but since when would a deity dislike choking smoke?

“Then… put out the smoke?” she asked instinctively, just as she would when speaking to her younger sister.

The Clan Deity said, “No. The smoke is for driving away mosquitoes. Extinguishing it will bring more insects at night.”

Upon hearing this response, Luo Yuan once again showed a dazed, bewildered expression. To drive… mosquitoes?

The Clan Deity let out two soft laughs. “I was merely teasing you. It is incense with a special purpose. As long as I am awake, it must be lit every day.”

For an instant, Luo Yuan felt the deity seemed like a slightly mischievous elder, completely different from his overly youthful appearance—and completely different from what she had imagined him to be.

Her stomach suddenly grumbled loudly with hunger.

The Clan Deity sighed. “Ah, yes. Ordinary humans require food every day.”

Luo Yuan lowered her head. “Earlier, I secretly ate your offerings.”

The Clan Deity said, “It is of no consequence. Those offerings are placed there only to be wasted. I cannot eat them.”

Luo Yuan asked softly, “Then… may I go take a little more of the offerings to eat?”

The Clan Deity: “No.”

Luo Yuan: “…?”

The Clan Deity: “As I recall, mortals must eat grains. Only eating those offerings will not do.” As he spoke, he smiled and lifted one hand, letting the sleeve fall before her, looking somewhat like a bright and youthful boy.

Luo Yuan couldn’t react for a moment, shrinking her hands back as she stared at his sleeve.

The Clan Deity said, “Hold on.”

Trembling, Luo Yuan grabbed the soft “weapon” and followed the deity toward the courtyard exit. The deity floated out as usual, and she had to hurry her steps to keep up. Outside the courtyard stood many guards, all with stern expressions. They wore ancient-style clothing entirely unlike modern customs, yet at their waists were guns. Seeing them made Luo Yuan tense up, clutching the sleeve tighter.

But she soon discovered that these people behaved as though they could not see her or the Clan Deity at all, their gazes fixed straight ahead.

Luo Yuan stayed close behind the deity’s steps. She looked back at the guards, motionless like statues, then walked with him toward another courtyard. There, she saw the two elderly women who had called themselves clan women. They were accompanied by several young girls, kneeling before many memorial tablets, chanting some unknown song. As they chanted, they bowed, as though teaching proper rites. The Clan Deity led Luo Yuan past them, and their expressions did not change in the slightest.

They truly could not see them.

It turned out there were so many people in this large courtyard. When she had first come, she hadn’t seen a single person and thought only those two elderly women lived here. The courtyard by day and by night seemed like two different worlds—the surface and the underside.

“Here we are.”

Luo Yuan saw a kitchen, as well as a dining hall arranged like a cafeteria. Although the exterior was an ancient building, one could still see modern machines and equipment inside. Walking in gave her a slight sense of disorientation.

“Everyone takes their meals here,” the Clan Deity explained, like a thoughtful and polite host entertaining a guest.

Luo Yuan saw many dishes set out neatly on clean plates, waiting for people to take them. She hadn’t eaten normal food for several days, and the rich aroma made it impossible not to swallow.

The Clan Deity smiled and motioned with his hand. Luo Yuan picked up disposable bowls and chopsticks and tried to take food. She still didn’t dare release his sleeve with one hand, afraid the chefs a short distance away would see her if she revealed her presence.

Seeing Luo Yuan hesitate and not start eating, the Clan Deity suggested, “Why not try this?”

He pointed at a dish of duck with a rich sauce. Luo Yuan obediently picked up a piece and put it in her mouth.

The Clan Deity asked gently, with a hint of curiosity, “How is it? What kind of taste is it?”

Although it was delicious, Luo Yuan truly didn’t know what words to use, so she described dryly, “Just… the taste of meat.”

The Clan Deity sighed. “The taste of meat… it sounds not very appetizing.”

Miraculously, Luo Yuan instantly understood what he meant. Remembering the scene she had witnessed that night, she suddenly found the delicious meat in her mouth somewhat nauseating. But she didn’t dare spit it out; she forced herself to swallow it firmly.

After that, she absolutely didn’t dare eat meat again. Fortunately, the Clan Deity didn’t insist that she eat meat. Instead, he looked at the food with interest, occasionally suggesting she try something, then asking about the taste. It was as though he himself could not eat and could only watch others eat, asking about flavors to imagine them himself.

After trying a cat-shaped little bun at his suggestion, Luo Yuan asked vaguely, “You… can’t eat these?”

The Clan Deity: “I cannot.”

Luo Yuan had wanted to ask what would happen if he did eat them, but she remembered how the Clan Deity had bitten her that night and ended up vomiting on the ground. She quietly closed her mouth.

After she was full, she grabbed the deity’s sleeve again as they left. Seeing the hallway she had come through earlier, she couldn’t help looking several times and asked, “Can I leave here?”

The Clan Deity, still peaceful as ever, replied, “Stay here for a period of time.”

Luo Yuan understood his meaning, and her eyes lit up instantly. This was already countless times better than the situation she had imagined earlier. The Clan Deity had no intention of killing her. Perhaps after some time, she would be able to leave safely. As long as she could leave alive, that was enough—she still had something she had to do.

The Clan Deity spent most of his time in the shrine, like a dull and unchanging statue. The two clan women came three times a day to offer incense and pray. As for everyone else, unless they had specific duties, they could not approach the shrine, and they could not even enter the courtyard.

Whenever the two elderly women came to pray, Luo Yuan hid behind the deity. She was actually puzzled—since he was the god whom these people revered, why didn’t he simply tell them she was here? Why make it seem like he was secretly keeping a wild animal behind his family’s back?

After the clan women left, the deity would come out of the shrine and go to the cluster of red camellias, smiling quietly as he looked at the flowers.

Luo Yuan approached him and asked her question. The Clan Deity smiled without speaking, so she didn’t dare ask again.

Seeing him constantly gazing at the red camellias, looking as though he liked them very much, Luo Yuan walked into the shrine. From the red paper wrapped around the incense sticks, she pulled out a sheet. Her fingers moved skillfully, and she quickly folded it into a camellia blossom.

The Clan Deity looked at the paper camellia she offered and glanced at Luo Yuan several times.

Feeling uneasy under his gaze, Luo Yuan asked, “You… what’s wrong?”

The Clan Deity picked up the paper camellia, pondered for a moment, then smiled. “I have never received such an offering.”

Luo Yuan said, “It’s not an offering. It’s a gift for you.” She felt slightly ashamed, but she wanted to please this deity in hopes he would let her leave sooner.

The Clan Deity said, “I see.”

However, no one would dare give a gift to a Clan Deity. This was likely the courage of the ignorant.