After Transmigrating into an Evil God - Chapter 16

Dawn was breaking, with mountain mists swirling around.

Li Chi opened his eyes and stretched lazily.

He had slept quite long this time—from yesterday afternoon all the way until this morning.

It was another dreamless night. Having plucked the karmic thread of “sorrow” yesterday, the injuries on his body had healed several more degrees.

Li Chi now had some speculation about which karmic threads could be plucked.

The karmic thread he had plucked from Ding Qin’s body was “fear”—in the face of life and death lies great terror. This karmic thread had condensed her fear of being hunted by demons along the way, reaching its peak when she nearly got devoured by the wolf demon.

The karmic thread he had plucked from Qing Fu’s body was “sorrow”—great grief and pain too difficult to bear, only madness could mask the remnants of life. This karmic thread had condensed the pain of losing a child that she shared with the green cash bug mother, along with the sorrow of forgetting her child’s death and spending half her life in madness searching for her child.

Joy, anger, sorrow, fear, love, hatred, desire—they were all among the seven emotions.

These two karmic threads had both formed connections with him. Beyond that, they both condensed an extreme and pure emotion.

Looking at it this way, what he had plucked might not be karmic threads at all, but rather the Seven Emotion Triggers that induced karma.

When the seven emotions were as intense as Qing Fu’s, they could actually forcibly continue karma for over a hundred years even when it had already been severed…

Li Chi put away the two Seven Emotion Triggers and was about to go practice the qin when he suddenly caught the scent of incense smoke.

A wisp of pale blue smoke curled before his eyes. Li Chi reached out, and this wisp of incense obediently coiled into his palm, with threads of prayer voices transmitting from within.

“Respectfully thanking the divine, for saving my little daughter.”

This was the devout voice of a woman. Li Chi remembered—this was the voice of Zhou Xing, Tongdou’s mother.

“Pray for divine protection, may no disasters befall us.”

This was a man’s voice, from Tongdou’s father, Zheng Liang.

“Thank you, immortal! Please protect me and my parents in the future, and also eldest brother and sister-in-law, second brother and second sister-in-law, third brother and third… third brother doesn’t have a third sister-in-law yet, please bless third brother to successfully marry a third sister-in-law—he likes pretty ones—and also fourth brother, father says he’s not old enough to marry yet, no rush, then there’s fifth…”

…This childish little voice was Tongdou’s.

Besides these, there were some other prayer voices, probably from Tongdou’s eldest brother and sister-in-law, second brother and second sister-in-law, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth brothers.

Tongdou ranked seventh— Zheng Liang’s household was truly prolific…

Making a divine tablet wasn’t difficult. Zheng Liang had selected the wood that very day and had the household’s best woodworker, his second son Zheng Shu, carve a tablet and inscribe the characters.

The family still had leftover incense from worshipping Great King Yishan, so that very evening they offered three sticks of incense at home. After the incense burned out, they removed the tablet from the table and stored it in a separate box.

Thus, Zheng Liang’s household became the first family to provide Li Chi with the enjoyment of incense offerings.

Li Chi observed this wisp of incense for a moment before attempting to absorb a trace of it.

It didn’t provide much benefit to his injuries, but it could easily be converted into divine power. If he ever encountered a state where his divine power was exhausted, incense could serve as a means for rapid recovery.

Besides the portion that could be converted into divine power, this incense also contained the prayer power of the supplicants—those voices he had heard earlier.

Li Chi sensed this prayer power and frowned slightly.

This prayer power was, plainly speaking, the thoughts of mortals. They weren’t useless, but… were more like a double-edged sword.

Prayer power could enable him to master certain divine arts. For instance, Tongdou’s request for him to find a third sister-in-law for her third brother could serve as a trigger, allowing him to master divine arts related to matchmaking. Of course, Tongdou’s tiny bit of prayer power wasn’t enough—to tie red strings of fate for people would require collecting tens of thousands of similar prayer powers to even begin.

But prayer power was equally influencing his divine consciousness. This influence was extremely subtle; if Li Chi hadn’t been vigilant, he would have found it difficult to notice the slight effects on his divine consciousness.

This wisp of prayer power was too weak, and Li Chi easily resolved it.

But if too much prayer power accumulated and became difficult to dissolve, over time he would unknowingly become what his believers perceived him to be.

Incense was like a tonic pill laced with chronic poison. Though the toxicity could be resolved, it wasn’t of much use to Li Chi.

The limited divine power that small amounts of incense could restore was far inferior to his own cultivation recovery speed, especially now that his injuries had somewhat improved and his divine power recovery rate was much faster than before.

Unless he turned ten times the population of Liquan Village into his believers, the divine power recovered would truly be unnecessary. But that would inevitably create conflict with those great demons who intended to cultivate into demon gods.

And the divine art triggers that prayer power could produce held little attraction for him. It wasn’t worth confronting great demons for this.

In comparison, the Seven Emotion Triggers that might condense on karmic threads were more useful to him.

Moreover, Li Chi had a vague feeling that those karmic threads from which Seven Emotion Triggers couldn’t be plucked were also useful to him—he just didn’t know their purpose yet.

Li Chi opened the door and walked out of his room.

The mountain mists were half-dispersed. In the courtyard, Ding Qin was playing with the little mouse.

This little creature had purple-gray fur, lustrous and thick, with bright black eyes like beans, crystal clear and adorable. It was usually alert and clever, but when it let down its guard in front of trusted people, it appeared charmingly silly and endearing, truly loveable.

Ding Qin had come to ask the High God about spreading faith and collecting incense. Though she wanted to help the High God recover quickly, she should still ask for the High God’s opinion before taking action.

The simple wooden door opened, pale mountain mists flowed, and the deity lifted his head to look at the sky.

Today the clouds were thick, and the sunlight filtering through them was gentle and mild.

The deity in white robes and black hair stepped across the threshold, and morning light immediately bathed his entire form.

Watching this scene, Ding Qin’s breathing involuntarily caught.

High God Li Chi was like the clouds atop mountain peaks, like light hanging from the heavens—something to be gazed upon but not approached, revered but not climbed, making one unable to help but lower their head in his presence.

Ding Qin lost herself for a moment before hastily standing up. “High God.”

“Is there something you need?” Li Chi smiled at her and asked.

This young girl, for some reason, had always been extremely reverent toward him, to the point of seeming distant.

Li Chi pondered—he didn’t seem to have frightened her. Perhaps it was those few days when he had wanted her to leave and thus left her alone in the manor, making her afraid to approach?

He should be gentler, Li Chi thought, looking at her thin, small frame with baby fat still on her cheeks. She was still a child—in a normal household, she’d be at the age for studying.

Ding Qin explained her thoughts, her lively eyes both nervous and expectant.

But Li Chi shook his head. “Incense isn’t of much use to me.”

Ding Qin’s expression visibly fell.

Li Chi patted her head. “You’re still young and shouldn’t worry about so much. Your energy should be focused on studying.”

“St-studying?” Ding Qin’s eyes widened. “Girls can study too?”

“What’s wrong with that?” Li Chi asked in return.

Ding Qin was stunned. Yes, what was wrong with that?

She then asked, “I don’t know how to read, and I’m already quite grown up. Can I still study?”

She had seen children’s education beginning—they started learning characters at three or four, and went to private school at five or six. She was already more than double the age for attending private school. Was it still possible now?

“It’s never too late, no matter how old you are,” Li Chi said.

He considered it—teaching should have a system, but with his memories completely gone, though he could understand written texts through residual knowledge, he didn’t know how to teach others. If Ding Qin was to study, it would be best to find her a teacher.

“Hou Li,” Li Chi called, “could you instruct Ding Qin?”

Hou Li manifested his spirit form and said with difficulty, “Though I know how the Li family school conducted classes, that was all knowledge from over two hundred years ago.”

Or perhaps… let Ding Qin attend a mortal school? For Ding Qin, who had mastered divine arts, a twenty-li round trip would take only moments, so distance wouldn’t matter. In that case, following convention, he should probably prepare tuition for the teacher?

“Would attending a private school work?” Li Chi asked.

Hou Li said again, “Teachers in mortal private schools often have prejudices and are reluctant to accept female students.”

Li Chi made a thoughtful sound and continued pondering. Ding Qin had already become his divine messenger and stepped onto the path of cultivation. Her path differed from that of ordinary mortal education, so private school might not suit her. It would be best to find a teacher. But where could he find a teacher without prejudices who could provide individualized instruction?

Just as he was thinking, Jin Yan flapped his wings and flew over. “You’re all here!”

Ding Qin smiled when she saw him. The dove had a patch of white pearl-spotted feathers behind his neck that was beautiful and delicate, but now had a bald spot.

“What happened to you?” she asked.

“And you’re laughing!” Jin Yan said plaintively. “Those bird demons couldn’t out-argue me, so they started fighting. With more birds on their side, they plucked several of my feathers—it really hurt!”

Hearing this, Ding Qin felt distressed and placed her finger on his neck, channeling divine power converted to life force. “You should have hidden in the manor!”

The bald patch immediately regrew feathers. Jin Yan proudly ruffled himself and chuckled. “They got it worse! I plucked even more feathers from them! I specifically chose the pretty ones to pluck. You can go collect them later—perfect for making a hundred-feather fan!”

Jin Yan was gloating when he suddenly felt a chill. Turning around, he saw Hou Li glaring at him, so he shrank his neck. “Continue your conversation, don’t mind me.”

He had been pestering Hou Li these past two days to give him a different room. Though the woodshed was better than his self-built nest, who would want to live in a woodshed when there were proper rooms available!

Li Chi found this amusing and thought that Jin Yan, with his wide social circle, might know suitable candidates.

“I want to find a teacher for Ding Qin,” Li Chi asked. “Do you know any suitable candidates?”

Jin Yan thought for a moment. “I know someone! I know an old fox who loves mortal learning and is quite scholarly and knowledgeable. He lives nearby too!”

“This is for hiring as a teacher,” Hou Li reminded. “Are you sure he’s suitable?”

“Hey!” Jin Yan flapped his wings. “That old fox isn’t bad. Years ago when his illusion arts weren’t refined and he sought learning from humans, he was discovered and got his paw injured, but in the end he just threw a couple of rotten eggs at the person’s house and called it even.”

Hou Li, familiar with his loose tongue, asked, “Spreading people’s business everywhere—are you sure you haven’t offended him?”

Jin Yan shrank his neck again, rolled his eyes, and looked at Li Chi hopefully. “As long as you approve of him, I guarantee I can invite him over!”