Chapter 161: Even the Evil God Gets a Sequel?!

Moonlight slanted in through the window.

It fell across the thin crease at the back of Hu Tutu’s neck.

Lu Yuan was plunged into a surge of intense shock.

It wasn’t only that he was stunned Hu Tutu was... a paper person.

What shocked him even more was...

Although Lu Yuan’s strength had dropped a lot recently, he still had quite a few ritual tools the system had given him.

Some of those tools could detect non-human presences.

But before this moment, even now, there had been no reaction at all.

Of course, if you only consider the ritual tools, you could force an explanation.

That would be that this Hu Tutu...

Although not human, she was not an evil spirit either.

There was not a trace of malice on her, nor any wicked thought.

So precisely because of that, Lu Yuan’s instruments for detecting yin and sensing malevolent presences remained completely still?

If ritual tools could still be explained away...

Then...

Why had the Deity of Beauty not noticed earlier?

This morning, the Deity of Beauty had eaten breakfast at the same table as Hu Tutu.

Yet the Deity had shown no sign of noticing either...

The Deity of Beauty’s power—she was legitimately a Grand Celestial Master...

This...

“Daozhang?”

Hu Tutu’s voice sounded again, still bright and crisp.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?”

At that moment Hu Tutu turned her head and looked at Lu Yuan with a puzzled face.

Lu Yuan lifted his head and looked at her face.

Under the moonlight that clear little face was the same as ever.

Round, shining eyes, a small nose, the corners of her mouth slightly upturned.

Two little hair buns on top of her head trembled gently in the night breeze,

just like during the day.

Hm...

Not quite... not exactly the same...

Lu Yuan couldn’t put his finger on the subtle change, but there was definitely a difference.

For a moment, Lu Yuan couldn’t help wondering...

Could it be because of the difference between day and night...

After all, during the day Lu Yuan had truly found no sign of anything odd about Hu Tutu...

Only just now...

Lu Yuan was about to speak, then stunned to realize that in that instant Hu Tutu had returned to normal!!

The moonlight was still the same, still slanting in through that window.

But the thin crease on Hu Tutu’s palm, right under Lu Yuan’s eyes, faded away like the tide receding across sand, bit by bit, strand by strand.

First the edges of the crease blurred, as if some invisible force had ironed it out; those tiny paper-like flakes vanished.

Then the depth of the crease lessened, the shadowed trough formed by the fold slowly filled in.

Finally the skin color, that faint gray-white line that contrasted with the surrounding flesh, melted like snow and soaked back into regular pink flesh.

It took no more than three seconds.

Lu Yuan did not even blink.

When he came to his senses, Hu Tutu’s palm and the back of her neck were smooth and clean.

There was no difference from any normal little girl’s neck.

Moonlight shone on it, only the fine vellus hairs giving off a soft halo.

Lu Yuan instinctively looked at her face.

That clear little face blinked at Lu Yuan in the moonlight, round eyes full of puzzlement,

different from just now.

Lu Yuan finally caught that subtle distinction.

When he had first noticed Hu Tutu was a paper person, though her face was the same, it had seemed a bit... stiff?

Like features painted on, delicate, but missing something.

Now it was different.

Now those eyes genuinely “blinked”; when the eyelids moved, even the eyelashes trembled slightly.

The small nose seemed to move faintly, and the arc of the mouth’s smile carried a lively warmth.

The little buns on top of her head swung with more natural mischief.

It was as if that earlier oddity had been a trick of the moonlight and of his own mind.

“Daozhang?”

Hu Tutu called again; this time worry crept into her voice, still crisp but with the soft, sticky sweetness unique to the night.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“Did you stand too long and your legs went numb?”

As she spoke, Hu Tutu withdrew her hand from Lu Yuan’s palm and waved it in front of his eyes.

Her fingers were white and tender, the pads of her fingers showing a bit of flesh, her nails catching the moonlight with a healthy pink sheen.

Now there was no sign at all.

Not the slightest trace remained.

As if it had never happened.

Lu Yuan lifted his head and looked at Hu Tutu’s face.

Under the moonlight that small face was clean and fair, eyes round and gazing at him, the window and his reflection mirrored in them.

Just like during the day.

Just like any ordinary little girl.

“...I’m fine.”

Lu Yuan heard his voice, calm and even.

“I slept little during the day, I’m just tired.”

He stretched lazily after speaking.

Hu Tutu gave a small “oh,” withdrew her hand, and sat down across from Lu Yuan quietly, waiting for the supper.

Moonlight continued to slant in through the window.

It fell on the smooth back of Hu Tutu’s neck.

There was nothing there.

Lu Yuan said nothing, no longer staring at Hu Tutu; like her, he turned his head to look out the window.

Lu Yuan did not know what had just happened.

But he was certain Hu Tutu was a paper person!

She was not a normal human being!

That crease had not been an illusion, nor was it just poor sleep playing tricks on him.

In that instant, that change had occurred.

However...

Lu Yuan felt no strangeness toward her.

He was not afraid.

After all...

This was Zhenlong Temple!

Behind them stood the Three Pure Ones, behind them the ancestral tablets of past masters.

To the right in the side hall was Qing Wan.

What was there to fear!

More importantly, Hu Tutu had never shown any malice, nor anything weird.

So naturally there was nothing to fear.

Lu Yuan stared at the moon outside the window, but his mind was far from idle.

Continuing the Lamp’s Hu family.

Truly amazing techniques!!

Tonight’s trick...

Lu Yuan stole a glance at Hu Tutu across from him.

The little girl sat quietly, hands neatly on her knees, also watching the moon.

Moonlight softened her profile, eyelashes casting a small shadow under her lids.

How was this a paper person?

This was plainly a living little girl!

And yet, she was a paper person.

Lu Yuan had traveled south and north with the old man—what strange things had he not seen?

He had once personally watched the old man make a paper person, cast a spell, and send it to watch over a grave.

That paper person could move, walk, sit and keep watch at the tomb.

But what kind of paper person was that?

Joints stiff, knees not bending when walking, as if wheels under it slid across the ground.

Its face forever held the same expression, a painted-up smile that never moved; staring at it made one uneasy.

Those paper people could not speak, could not eat, could not touch water—water made them collapse.

The Dao also had similar techniques.

Some temples used paper people as laborers to sweep courtyards or guard incense.

Those paper people, though more skillfully made, could move more nimbly and do more work.

But no matter how skilled, they could not escape the traces of “paper.”

Pale complexions as if pasted with mulberry paper.

Movements, though agile, always carried a floating quality, as if feet had no roots and did not touch the earth.

The eyes might move, but the gaze was empty, lacking the sparkle of living eyes.

But Hu Tutu?

Lu Yuan recalled the daytime.

This morning Hu Tutu had been eating in the dining hall.

He remembered clearly: the little girl held a bowl, used chopsticks, spooning porridge into her mouth bite by bite.

The porridge was hot; she blew on it, her lips puckered, breath puffing.

When she ate the pickles, her brow furrowed slightly and she muttered in a low voice, “a bit salty,” then lifted the bowl and drank a big mouthful of porridge to wash it down.

A paper person?

Which paper person would complain the pickles were too salty?

Which paper person would be afraid of hot porridge?

Which paper person would mutter while eating?

Then there was her gaze.

Lu Yuan stole another glance.

Hu Tutu was watching the moon, as if thinking of something; her mouth curved up, and the eyes curved with it.

That wasn’t a painted smile; it rose from the heart.

Such a smile must have light in the eyes, feeling in the heart, for the face to hold it.

Could Daoist paper people manage that?

They could not.

Could the old man’s techniques manage that?

They could not.

Lu Yuan mentally ran through every paper-person spell he knew within the Dao.

The Shangqing sect’s “Scripture on Lingbao Teachings for Salvation and Compensation” recorded the “substitute-form paper person” technique, using a paper figure to absorb disaster for someone.

No matter how finely made, that paper person was at best a human-shaped puppet—movable, but speechless.

The Zhengyi sect’s “Imperial Heaven Jade Code” also had paper-person commands.

But those paper people required the caster’s thought energy to control them; every action carried the caster’s mark, like a marionette tugged by strings.

So among all paper-person techniques Lu Yuan knew,

even a complete layperson spending time with such a paper person—say an hour or two—would detect something off.

But Hu Tutu?

She could talk by herself, eat by herself, watch the moon and smile on her own.

She didn’t need anyone to control her.

She simply was herself.

In this Zhenlong Temple full of Daoists, with even a deity like the Deity of Beauty present,

throughout the whole day no one had detected anything unusual about Hu Tutu.

This could not be explained by mere “technique.”

Lu Yuan thought for a long time, and one word popped into his head: creation.

Yes, creation.

Like heaven and earth creating all things, letting birds fly, fish swim, people speak.

The Hu family of Continuing the Lamp’s craft had stopped “making” paper people and instead were “creating” people!

They used paper, bamboo strips, glue...

Using some unknown method, they had created a being that ate, spoke, smiled, and sat here quietly watching the moon, waiting for supper.

And this “person” had not a trace of evil qi.

No wicked thought, no malice, no yin energy, no ghostly aura.

Clean, pure.

Cleaner than many living people.

Impressive.

Incredible.

At least in this matter.

Daoist magic emphasizes “borrowing.”

Borrow the power of heaven and earth, borrow ghosts and gods, borrow the force of talismans and seals.

Borrowed things are never truly one’s own; they always leave traces and flaws.

But the Hu family’s craft...

Lu Yuan pondered; this was not “borrowing,” it was “transforming.”

Turning a sheet of paper into a person.

Turning the dead into the living,

turning the false into the real.

The Ten Families beyond the Great Wall were indeed not only about prolonging life—some of them truly possessed real skills!

Lu Yuan looked at Hu Tutu again.

The little girl was still watching the moon.

Moonlight washed over her hazily, as if she were veiled by a thin gauze.

She suddenly turned her head to meet Lu Yuan’s gaze.

“Daozhang?”

Hu Tutu blinked.

“Why are you staring at me so much?”

Moonlight remained still and quiet.

Lu Yuan came to his senses and grinned:

“Nothing, I was just thinking that if I ever have a daughter in the future, I hope she’ll be like you.”

Hearing this, Hu Tutu blinked, then adorably shook her head:

“She definitely will be!”

After saying that, Hu Tutu cheerfully turned her face back and continued watching the moon.

Her hands remained neatly on her knees, fingers occasionally twitching, both obedient and cute.

Lu Yuan looked at her profile, at her little buns, at a stray lock of hair lifted by the night breeze.

His heart suddenly softened.

Not the soft feeling one has looking at something cute.

It was a vague, muffled feeling.

After all, when he first met Hu Tutu he had treated her as a person.

Now suddenly learning she was merely a paper figure felt strange.

Especially...

She sat under the moon, hands on her knees, quietly watching the moon.

She was probably thinking about what to eat tomorrow, when supper would be, how round the moon was tonight.

She... did not know she was a paper person.

Hm...

The feeling was odd.

Maybe because it was around eleven or twelve at night, and Lu Yuan had been a bit lax recently, he felt a little sentimental.

As the old saying goes: idle minds wander.

After a brief shake of his head, Lu Yuan stopped overthinking.

Whether Hu Tutu was genuinely human or a paper person, since she had done nothing wrong and was not malicious—

in fact, she did good things!

—there was nothing to do but treat her as before: feed her well, then send her on her way.

Footsteps came from outside soon.

Not heavy, not hurried, step by step, steady.

Before Lu Yuan turned his head he heard Elder Zhou’s voice from the doorway,

“Supper’s here.”

Hu Tutu immediately turned her head, eyes bright.

Elder Zhou carried a tray in, on which were two large steaming bowls of noodles, vapor rising white in the moonlight.

He set the tray on the low table by the window, looked up at Lu Yuan, then glanced at Hu Tutu.

“Nothing good for supper, just two bowls of noodles and a couple of eggs, make do with that.”

Hu Tutu hurried over, both hands grabbing the table edge, eyes fixed on the bowls, little nose inhaling.

“Smells so good!”

She lifted her face and smiled at Elder Zhou, eyes curved.

“Thank you, Daozhang!”

Elder Zhou waved his hand.

He spoke, then looked at Lu Yuan once more.

Lu Yuan looked at the two bowls of noodles, then at Zhou Shouzuo and asked:

“You’re not eating?”

Zhou Shouzuo shook his head, indicating he was going into meditation and would not eat.

Lu Yuan nodded and said no more.

Zhou Shouzuo turned and left; his footsteps receded, and the dining hall fell silent again.

Moonlight still slanted through the window; now it shone directly on the low table, lighting the two bowls brightly.

The noodles were pale, the broth clear, each topped with a poached egg, and sprinkled with a handful of scallions, green and glistening.

Hu Tutu had already sat down, both hands neatly on the edge of the table, looking at the noodles with longing, then glancing up at Lu Yuan.

“Daozhang, may I eat now?”

Lu Yuan sat down opposite her and nodded.

“Eat.”

Hu Tutu immediately lifted her bowl, took her chopsticks, and blew on the steam.

Her cheeks puffed as she blew, lips a perfect round.

Huff—huff—

After two blows she carefully picked up a strand of noodle.

She chewed, and her eyes curved at once.

“Delicious!”

She mumbled with her mouth full, chewing away.

Lu Yuan watched her and couldn’t help smiling; he picked up his own bowl.

“When you’re done, where will you go? Which ‘deity’ will you continue the lamp for?”

Hu Tutu was chewing as Lu Yuan asked; her cheeks bulged with noodles as she looked up.

“Hmm?”

She swallowed, wiped her mouth with her sleeve, and blinked.

“Daozhang asking where I’m going?”

Lu Yuan nodded and picked up another bite of noodle, blowing on it.

“I was just asking casually; if you can’t say, then don’t.”

Hu Tutu shook her head, her little buns wobbling.

“There’s nothing inconvenient to say.”

She drank a sip of soup, smacked her lips, then spoke:

“Heishui Lingzi.”

Lu Yuan’s chopsticks froze midair.

Heishui Lingzi?

That name sounded a bit...

Lu Yuan raised his head.

“Heishui Lingzi?”

“Which Heishui Ling?”

Hu Tutu, chewing, mumbled indistinctly:

“It’s thirty li further in from Huai Shu Gully, past two mountains, there’s a black water pool, and behind the pool is Heishui Lingzi.”

She said it lightly, as if naming the Wang family hamlet or Li family hollow east of the village.

Lu Yuan’s chopsticks hovered.

Huai Shu Gully?

He had been to that place...

It was when Lu Yuan had just transmigrated, not long after, he had gone there with the old man!

The old man had passed that area and said something upon returning, warning that if Lu Yuan ever came here himself...

If you walk into Huai Shu Gully and into the mountains, don’t go deeper; something is wrong there.

When Lu Yuan had asked what wrong, the old man had not explained in detail, only muttered:

“That place had a demon problem long ago.”

Lu Yuan looked at Hu Tutu and blinked...

“What’s it called?”

Hu Tutu finished the last mouthful, set down her bowl, and thought seriously for a moment.

“I don’t know the exact name.”

She said.

“My family just told me to call it the ‘Faceless Venerable.’”

When Lu Yuan heard those three words, something clicked in his mind.

Faceless Venerable?

He had heard that name!

He had heard it from the old man!

Once the old man helped handle a malevolent case and came back drinking in a sulk, cursing through the night.

Lu Yuan had been nearby tending to him and had vaguely heard the old man mutter things like “faceless malevolent deity,” “incense offerings turning into spirits,” “faking gods and ghosts,” and so on.

Later Lu Yuan asked the old man what a faceless malevolent deity was.

The old man, drunk, said disconnected things, but roughly meant...

That thing was an evil deity.

No face, so it was called faceless.

With no face, it could become any face.

With no form, it could take any form.

Damn.

Could the Faceless Venerable Hu Tutu mentioned...

be the very faceless evil deity the old man had spoken of??

No way!!

The Hu family of Continuing the Lamp provides lamp continuation for deities...

They even continue for evil deities?!!