====== CHAPTER 039 ======
After exiting the back hills of the mass grave, Ding Songyan’s Yin Eye quickly faded.
He did not mind this, as he already possessed a stable method to activate it.
He deliberately slowed his pace, waiting until the sky had turned completely dark before arriving at the dilapidated temple.
The interior was no different from a few days prior: the holes in the roof remained, cobwebs clung to every corner, and weeds grew in abundance.
Ding Songyan did not rush to trigger his Yin Eye. Instead, he cast his gaze toward the filthy, broken statue of the deity.
It was likely a local Earth God, but it had long since been abandoned by worshippers. In Dingjiang Prefecture, whether within the city or out in the countryside, the people now worshipped Dangkang and the Kitchen God, while the incense at Taoist and Buddhist temples was primarily offered by the upper and middle classes.
Only after paying his respects to the deity abandoned by the masses did Ding Songyan transfer the clear, misty "seed" from his Sea of Consciousness to the center of his brow.
His Yin Eye opened, and the boundless, pitch-black wilderness overlapped with the scene inside the temple, manifesting before his eyes.
Ghostly shadows drifted aimlessly through the smoke-like darkness, while the broken statue remained as filthy as ever, devoid of blood or tears.
I was quite afraid of opening my Yin Eye and seeing a god of incense who had fallen from grace, so I bowed again and again, sincerely explaining the situation... Is it that this world has no gods of incense, or has this one here fallen so long ago that he has already vanished into thin air? Ding Songyan turned his gaze toward the wooden pillar he had leaned against when he first awoke.
Black wind, nearly solidified, swirled around that spot, and a figure nearing dissipation lingered there, unable to move on.
Ding Songyan held his breath and drew closer.
The figure raised its head, revealing a refined and open face.
It was identical to Ding Songyan’s own!
The only difference was that the face was deathly pale and ghastly, with bulging eyes shedding streaks of bloody tears, its expression twisted in an unnatural way.
So, you really did return on the seventh day after your death... I was truly afraid that your soul had scattered, and that I had transmigrated long ago but simply forgotten what happened before... Ding Songyan swallowed hard, controlling the involuntary trembling of his hands as he shifted the clear, misty "seed" to his throat.
In a cold, ethereal voice, he asked:
"Ding Songyan, who killed you?"
The figure’s twisted expression shifted instantly, replaced by an indescribable, bone-deep terror.
He began to mutter incessantly:
"I won't run anymore...
"Don't kill me..."
"I won't run anymore...
"Don't kill me..."
"I won't run anymore!
"Don't kill me!"
His voice rapidly turned shrill and hysterical, filled with the panic of the dying.
Illusory tears, stained with fresh, crimson blood, traced lines down his cheeks.
"Don't kill me!"
With that final shriek, the figure completely collapsed and dissolved, merging into the smoke-like darkness and the boundless wilderness.
Ding Songyan watched this scene in silence, his heart heavy with complex emotions.
He did not know if this was a sense of "the rabbit dying and the fox grieving," a feeling of shared fate, or the realization that he himself had yet to escape those two sentences, still begging others not to kill him.
Once his Yin Eye naturally faded, Ding Songyan pondered the final obsession left behind by his predecessor:
"He really was running at that time... and the situation was so urgent that he couldn't even worry about the potential disaster that the Secret Classic of Mountains and Seas and those other books might bring upon his family...
"Where did his private savings go? I didn't find them... Did he have a premonition that he would have to flee on the spot, so he took them with him, only for them to be taken by someone else? Or had he already spent them? Spent them on the matter of the Secret Classic of Mountains and Seas?
"In such a desperate flight, why did he enter this abandoned Earth God temple? It forced him away from the surveillance of the Watchtower and cost him his last chance at survival...
"Was someone waiting for him here, forcing him to meet them, or was he, too, 'not in control of his own body'?"
Ding Songyan immediately associated this with Chen Yuliang and Wang Yishu, and with the Vermilion Moth and the "Moth Seed."
He quickly dismissed this speculation; if his body had truly been possessed by a "Moth Seed," Master Physician Shao’s two examinations could not have failed to find a trace.
Following this, he thought back to earlier, to how he had voluntarily gone to the North Ward to seek an opportunity despite knowing there were certain issues, and felt no strangeness:
"Was the predecessor also influenced in his thoughts, 'voluntarily' entering the Earth God temple?
"Does this mean the person behind the scenes shares the same origin as Yan Changqing?"
As his thoughts raced, Ding Songyan’s eyes suddenly brightened. He recalled a sentence Yan Changqing had spoken:
"It seems an old friend of mine has arrived, though I do not know which one..."
Fellow disciples were also a type of "old friend"!
And there was no rule stating there could only be one person behind the scenes; it was entirely possible that an expert from the Moth God Sect was collaborating with Yan Changqing’s "old friend" to set the trap.
The more Ding Songyan thought about it, the more he felt this guess was close to the truth. Through this, he also understood why the behavior of Chen Yuliang and Wang Yishu differed from typical "Moth People."
They likely had a clear, misty "seed" in their own Seas of Consciousness!
By injecting thoughts, ideas, and dialogue through the "seed," the "Moth People" naturally appeared more agile and lifelike!
"This must be why Yan Changqing guessed an old friend had arrived, but judging by his reaction, it is more likely an enemy than a friend... In that case, he really did betray his own sect, to the point where his fellow disciples came to purge the sect?" Ding Songyan walked slowly out of the abandoned temple, lost in thought, and returned to the main road leading to the city gate.
He realized that the divine arts of Yan Changqing’s sect and the techniques of the Moth God Sect complemented each other perfectly, creating an effect where one plus one was greater than two.
The problem Ding Songyan was currently considering was how to bypass the restrictions and inform the authorities, as well as Xiaoqing and Ren Youyang, of this discovery.
Returning to the city and turning into Chengyu Lane, Ding Songyan forced a smile onto his face, appearing as if nothing were amiss.
Under the dark blue sky, still faintly lit, he saw his father, Ding Shengyi, standing by the well with a folding fan, chatting with a group of neighbors.
After exchanging greetings, Ding Songyan did not immediately return home, but stood beside his father, engaging in idle chatter.
"Clerk Ding, it’s a pity your third daughter was too young to catch the imperial concubine selection in the fifth year of Jianwu. Otherwise, given her beauty, you would be the father-in-law of the Emperor by now." A woman said with a mix of envy and emotion.
Ding’s third daughter naturally referred to Ding Qingyan, sometimes called Third Miss Ding or Little Miss Ding.
Before Ding Shengyi or Ding Songyan could respond, an idler nearby laughed:
"Little Miss Ding will come of age next year, and the year after will be the tenth year of Jianwu. The Emperor might hold another selection. Heh heh, the Fire God’s techniques surely leave one with a lot of 'fire' in the end."
Ding Shengyi waved his folding fan to shoo away the buzzing mosquitoes:
"I only wish for my third daughter to marry nearby so we can see each other often. I don't ask for great wealth or status, only that she lives in peace and that we can look after one another."
"Haha, Clerk Ding, what about me?"
"You need to be more ambitious."
"..."
Ding Songyan chatted for a while before returning home, where he saw his mother, Liu Yuzao, just setting down her needlework beside the oil lamp.
"Er'lang, come try on these new shoes. Your sister and I each stitched one." Liu Yuzao picked up a pair of black cloth shoes and gestured for Ding Er'lang to sit so she could help him change.
Ding Songyan felt a sudden sense of embarrassment and quickly said:
"Let me clean up first; I’ve walked quite a distance."
Being loved too much by one's family was not necessarily a good thing, especially since he had not yet fully integrated into this identity.
After washing his feet, Ding Songyan tried on the cloth shoes.
"They fit perfectly and are very comfortable," he praised.
Liu Yuzao offered a faint, gratified smile and nodded, tidying up her needlework as she said:
"Then wear them tomorrow."
Seeing his mother’s expression, hearing her words, and thinking of the remnant soul of Ding Er'lang he had seen not long ago, Ding Songyan felt a sudden pang of melancholy and discomfort.
When Ding Shengyi returned, the family of five tidied up and prepared for bed.
Ding Songyan naturally helped Ding Daniu move the wooden chest and lay out the bedding.
"Er'lang, Er'lang." Ding Daniu glanced at the east wing where their mother was, and lowered his voice to Ding Songyan, "Do me a favor tomorrow."
Ding Songyan straightened up, and while sliding the door bolt of the main room, asked with a smile:
"Big Brother, what favor do you need?"
Ding Daniu hesitated for a moment before saying:
"Come find me at the wharf tomorrow afternoon and say you have something for me to help with, so I can ask the foreman for leave."
"Where are we going?" Ding Songyan had a vague premonition.
Ding Daniu gave a simple, honest smile:
"The North Ward."
"..." Ding Songyan thought for a moment and decided it was fine.
Better to expend some energy than to keep thinking about killing!
He turned his thoughts to long-term plans: once his own affairs were settled, if he were still alive, he would tell his mother, and find his brother a wife.
But with my brother’s nature, wouldn't that be harming some girl? Ding Songyan suddenly felt a sense of reluctance.
He returned to the west wing and saw his sister, Ding Qingyan, sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting with a smile.
"Do you have something, too?" Ding Songyan asked, feeling a bit helpless.
Ding Qingyan gave a sweet smile:
"Second Brother, tell me a story tonight."
Compared to Xiaoqing, Ding Qingyan’s smile was sweeter and more approachable, without any sense of inferiority.
Sigh, it’s only because I just saw the remnant soul of my predecessor, otherwise... Ding Songyan sighed again:
"Alright."
"Second Brother, you’re the best!" Ding Qingyan praised him with a bright smile, then obediently returned to the inner room and lay down on the bed.
Ding Songyan shook his head, leaned against the headboard, and began to tell the story, starting from Lady White stealing the immortality herb all the way to Xu Xian entering Jinshan Temple.
The night was deep, and Ding Qingyan’s voice carried a clear hint of sleepiness:
"Second Brother, Mother said that before I come of age, we need to rent a larger house with five rooms. By then, I won't be able to listen to your stories or chat with you before I fall asleep."
"Then I’ll finish the story before returning to my own room." Ding Songyan was quite professional when it came to coaxing his sister.
Although he was an only child, his parents' siblings had given him two younger female cousins and three older female cousins, and they were the type who visited often and played together frequently.
Ding Qingyan drifted into a satisfied slumber, and Ding Songyan continued his work of burning the midnight oil.
This time, the sect, hindered by the fact that Bai Suzhen was a demon, was unwilling to help Xu Shilin deal with Fahai. Only a few fellow disciples helped in their personal capacities. When Fahai learned of this, he set up the Arhat Formation in advance, causing Xu Shilin’s first attempt to save his mother to end in failure.
As he wrote, Ding Songyan caught a glimpse of Xiaoqing out of the corner of his eye.
Xiaoqing had changed back into the outfit she wore when they first met: a plain white short shirt with a round collar and a white-edged green skirt, her hair styled in double buns.
Ding Songyan pondered for a moment, then spoke directly:
"Miss Xiaoqing, I heard that the person following me is a 'Moth Person' from the Moth God Sect."
"Them..." Xiaoqing was startled at first, then frowned slightly, "Who told you that?"
Ding Songyan wanted to speak but found the words stuck in his throat.
"Can't say?" Xiaoqing’s eyes darted with intelligence, "Just answer me yes or no—is it someone from the Zhen Mansion?"
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