The entire Xuanzhen Hall was just like their general—quite particular about appearances. After Emma entered the Nanyang Temple, she spent a whole hour critiquing the statue of Nanyang: the twisted posture, the garish colors, the poor craftsmanship, the bizarre taste. William Carter noticed the veins on George's forehead slowly bulging and thought he’d better quickly change the subject. Just then, he saw another young woman enter to worship, kneeling devoutly, so he gently said, “Speaking of which, Nanyang Zhenjun’s main domain is in the southeast. I didn’t expect the incense offerings to be so prosperous for you even here in the north.”

People build temples and palaces as imitations of the celestial palaces in the heavens, and the statues are reflections of the gods themselves. Temples gather believers and attract incense offerings, becoming an important source of power for the gods. Due to various geographical, historical, and cultural reasons, people in different regions usually worship different gods. In their own territory, a god’s power is at its peak—this is the home field advantage. Only a god like the Martial Emperor, who has followers everywhere and temples in all directions, is unaffected by the concept of a home field. For their own general’s temple to have such thriving incense offerings even outside its main domain was a good thing; George ought to be proud, but his expression was anything but. Emma, on the other hand, smiled slightly and said, “Indeed, indeed, deeply beloved.”

William Carter said, “But I have a question, I wonder…”

George said, “If it’s ‘I don’t know whether I should say this,’ then don’t say it.”

William Carter thought, “No. What I want to say is, ‘I don’t know if anyone can answer this.’”

However, he sensed that saying this out loud would not be wise, so he decided to change the topic again. Unexpectedly, Emma drawled, “I know what you want to ask. You must be wondering why there are so many female devotees coming to worship?”

That was exactly what William Carter wanted to ask.

Female followers of martial gods have always been fewer than male followers, with the only exception being himself eight hundred years ago. But the reason for that exception was very simple—just two words: good-looking.

He knew very well it wasn’t because he was virtuous or possessed extraordinary divine power; it was simply because his statue was handsome, and his temple was beautiful. Almost all his temples were built by royalty, and the statues were sculpted by the most skilled craftsmen from all over the country, modeled after his own face. Moreover, because of the phrase “the body is in the abyss, the heart in paradise,” the craftsmen often liked to add flowers to his statues and plant the temple grounds into a sea of blossoming trees. So, at that time, he had another nickname: “The Flower-Crowned Martial God.” The female devotees liked that his statue was handsome and that his temple was full of flowers; just for that, they were willing to come in and worship him.

But ordinary martial gods, due to their strong aura of slaughter, usually had their faces sculpted to look stern, fierce, and cold, which made female devotees prefer to worship Guanyin or others instead. This Nanyang statue, though it had nothing to do with the aura of slaughter, was even further from being good-looking, yet the number of female devotees coming to worship was almost greater than the males, and George clearly didn’t want to answer this question, which made him quite curious. Just then, the young woman finished her prayers, got up to take some incense, and turned around.

At that turn, William Carter nudged the other two. The two of them had been quite impatient, but when he nudged them and they looked over, their faces instantly changed.

Emma said, “Too ugly!”

William Carter choked for a moment before saying, “Emma, you shouldn’t talk about girls like that.”

To be fair, Emma was telling the truth. The girl’s face was extremely flat, as if someone had slapped it flat, and to say her features were ordinary would be an understatement—if one had to describe it, perhaps only “crooked nose and slanted eyes” would suffice.

But in William Carter’s eyes, he couldn’t even tell if she was pretty or not. The main thing was, when she turned around, there was a huge tear at the back of her skirt, so obvious that it was impossible to pretend not to see it.

Emma was startled at first, but quickly regained composure. The veins on George’s forehead instantly vanished without a trace.

Seeing his expression change dramatically, William Carter quickly said, “Don’t be nervous. Don’t be nervous.”

The girl took the incense and knelt down again, praying as she bowed, “General Nanyang, please bless me, your devotee Little Emma, and help me catch that ghost groom soon, so that no more innocent people will suffer at his hands…”

She prayed devoutly, completely unaware of the situation behind her, or that three people were crouching at the feet of the statue she was worshipping. William Carter felt a headache coming on and said, “What should we do? We can’t just let her walk out like this, can we? People will stare at her all the way back.”

Moreover, judging by the tear in her skirt, it was clearly slashed deliberately with a sharp object. She would not only be gawked at, but also ridiculed and humiliated—a real disgrace.

Emma said indifferently, “Don’t ask me. She’s not worshipping our Xuanzhen General. See no evil. I didn’t see anything.”

George’s handsome face was now pale and green, and he could only wave his hand, unable to speak—a proud young man forced into silence, completely unreliable. William Carter had no choice but to act himself. He took off his outer robe and tossed it down. The robe fluttered down onto the girl, covering the unsightly tear at the back of her skirt. The three of them all breathed a sigh of relief.