Throughout the entire first month of the lunar year, starting from the New Year, the clan women would bring jade-carved talismans every day, requesting the clan god to consecrate them.

Ethan Clark had seen neighbors and colleagues visit temples and Taoist shrines to pray for good luck, romance, health, and so on. Sometimes they would bring back talismans, which were said to have been consecrated. Ethan Clark didn’t know if those were effective; she hadn’t believed in such things before. But now, seeing with her own eyes the clan god draw out strands of red divinity from his body and let them fall onto the jade plaques, she felt that these items, “consecrated” by the clan god, must surely be effective.

Amidst the lustrous green and white jade pieces, a streak of vivid red was infused, like a trace of flowing blood.

Every day, the clan women would bring jade pieces and take them away, and only after the first lunar month ended did this consecration ritual come to a close.

With the first month over, the altar returned to its quiet state. No more members of the Qin clan came to worship or pray, and the offerings that had filled the altar were taken away one by one, leaving the altar cold and silent once more.

Ethan Clark felt that the clan god seemed to have changed a little… and not for the better.

His body, wrapped in a loose white robe, was usually hidden from view, but gave the impression of being no different from an ordinary person—his limbs and body all seemed normal. Now, however, Ethan Clark felt that his form had become somewhat hollow. When he floated above the ground, his robes billowing, it was as if there was no body beneath them.

Ethan Clark recalled the first time she saw the clan god. Months had passed, and she had deliberately tried to forget, so her memory was hazy; only the fear she’d felt in the presence of something other still lingered in her heart.

She watched in silence, several times unable to resist the urge to pull back the clan god’s sleeve to see what was inside, but in the end, she never dared.

The questions she didn’t ask were raised by the clan women. She wasn’t the only one to notice the clan god’s change; the two elderly women, who had served the clan god for decades, were especially sensitive to his condition.

“Clan god, have you entered your decline period so soon this time?”

“Or was there a problem with the previous offering, causing your decline to come early?”

The two clan women spoke of this with deep guilt. The offering herself, listening at the side, also felt guilty.

After the clan women left, the clan god looked at Ethan Clark and smiled gently. “Why do you feel guilty? Guilty that I didn’t eat you?”

With that reminder, Ethan Clark realized—right, she really shouldn’t feel guilty for not being eaten by someone else; after all, that was a rather strange thing.

“But… if it hadn’t been me, if it had been another death row inmate, someone whose evil you could absorb, you wouldn’t be suffering like this.” As Ethan Clark spoke, she wondered if she was starting to believe in gods, almost like a devotee.

Her neighbor, an old lady who believed in Buddhism, was like this. She thought everything the Buddha said was right, everything the temple master said was right, always thinking about offering incense, chanting scriptures, donating for incense oil… If she ever left this place and circumstances allowed, Ethan Clark also wanted to set up a statue of the clan god, offer some tributes every day, burn incense and recite prayers, just to show her sincerity.

The fact that she had such thoughts meant she had become a follower of the clan god. Since she was a believer, it made sense to feel this kind of guilt.

Ethan Clark nodded inwardly at her own thoughts, and then heard the clan god say, “I am not suffering.”

“The life and death of humans is like the withering and flourishing of plants. The clan god may seem to transcend life and death, but is still caught in this endless cycle. Decline, slumber, revival… countless times. When it becomes a pattern, there is no such thing as suffering.”

Ethan Clark still couldn’t let it go, and cautiously asked him, “Can I worship you in the future? If you don’t mind, I’d like to offer you some tributes, incense, and flowers.” Just like how her neighbor brought home a small statue from the temple.

“You want to worship me?” The clan god’s expression was a bit strange.

Ethan Clark: “Is that not allowed? Right, I’m not a member of the Qin clan, so I probably can’t worship you.” She was a little disappointed, but could understand—it was, after all, the clan god, not some other deity, and perhaps the clan god was a special kind of being.

The clan god continued to look at her with a strange, thoughtful gaze, watching her for a long time.

Ethan Clark: “…” Did I say something wrong?

At last, the changes in the clan god’s appearance became obvious. His hands never emerged from his sleeves again, the smile on his face grew more and more stiff, as if painted on, and his cheeks became so gaunt as to be frightening. He spoke less and less, sitting motionless on the altar, the sense of “humanity” slowly draining from him.

When the clan women came to offer incense, their attitude toward him was respectful yet fearful, and they asked cautiously, “In another month, should we prepare the offering for you?”

The clan god’s response was slow; he nodded and said, “You may.”

So next month, would the clan god become like he was the first time she saw him? Would she still be here then? As Ethan Clark was thinking this, she heard the clan god’s wooden yet gentle voice in her ear. He said, “It’s time for you to leave.”

The departure she’d thought about for so long was suddenly placed before her, and Ethan Clark was stunned. She stared blankly at the clan god, whose terrifying and ferocious appearance was gradually emerging, and gave a low “Mm.”

“All right, thank you.”