Stealing faith from a deity was no easy feat. The first certainty Li Pingtian established was this… she wasn’t bound to hear the call of just one god.
Divine Art Mastery was a talent shrouded in mystery.
Think carefully.
If these so-called deities had summoned them to this world, why could she master divine arts from every school? A deity’s followers needed absolute devotion to earn blessings, level up, and wield higher-tier divine arts.
But she was different. It wasn’t faith—it was more like… contribution points.
The more she did for a deity, the greater her divine power grew. Spreading a god’s teachings was one high-yield way to earn faith.
So after a week at the church, Li Pingtian began preaching daily in the bustling trade market. It was church-sanctioned—praised, even—but utterly meaningless to other believers.
To the other nuns, she was likely just currying favor with the bishop. A foolish move.
Preaching to strangers, standing like a fool giving speeches—it tested her limits. Her first day at the market, she couldn’t even find a spot to stand.
Her face stayed expressionless, but inside, panic flickered. Until…
“Pingtian?”
A familiar voice from behind startled her. She turned to see that familiar figure, hauling a large sack of who-knew-what.
“Wang Qi.”
A faint smile touched her lips—the most she ever showed. Wang Qi, who knew her well, could still read her emotions through the subtlest shifts, even now that she was a woman.
He grinned back, bright and easy. “Feels like ages since we last met, even though it’s only been days.”
It truly did.
Life at the church, though brief, felt like isolation. Wang Qi must feel the same—after all, this was a completely alien world.
But Wang Qi quickly noticed how odd it was to find a nun in the marketplace.
“What are you doing here? Shopping?”
Li Pingtian shook her head and explained.
“Preaching, huh…” Wang Qi nodded. “Come with me. I rented a stall to sell stuff. Quick business. Then you can use my spot to preach.”
He didn’t wait for her reply, already leading the way.
Li Pingtian followed naturally, just like old times—after evening classes, walking silently behind Wang Qi to some random snack stall off-campus. She never offered opinions; she simply ate whatever he chose.
Wang Qi’s goods sold fast.
“Don’t let the small stall fool you—I queued all day to rent it.”
Shoppers shot curious glances at the nun standing aside, but nuns were common here. No one batted an eye.
Soon, his stock was gone.
“You can preach here now.”
Li Pingtian nodded. She stepped to the center of the stall, opened her mouth—but no sound came out.
She glanced at Wang Qi.
He sighed, walked over, took her hand, and gave it a firm, almost painful slap.
She didn’t flinch. Instead, a trace of a smile appeared.
She’d relaxed.
Her clear, girlish voice soon drew a small crowd. She preached ordinary doctrine; interest was mild. But Li Pingtian was content.
Seeing her settled, Wang Qi turned to leave—
Only to have his hand caught.
Li Pingtian kept preaching, her fingers tightly laced with his.
Wang Qi’s heart lurched.
*Hey, Li—this is a trade market! A nun holding a man’s hand in public? What if the church finds out?*
As if reading his thoughts, Li Pingtian paused mid-sermon and locked eyes with him.
Somehow, Wang Qi sensed mischief beneath her blank expression. He’d seen that look before… where? The Dorm Leader?
“The church I serve preaches mercy and love… It doesn’t forbid nuns from bonding with men.”
Was she hinting at something?
Wang Qi’s heart hammered traitorously against his ribs.
*What’s going on with these people? The Dorm Leader, Li Pingtian—even Zou Moan, fine—but why do these former guys keep making my heart race like this?*
Even after preaching ended, Li Pingtian didn’t release his hand.
She just stared at him.
“Where’s the Dorm Leader?”
“At home, hammering things. All this stuff I sold? Her handiwork.” Wang Qi shifted awkwardly under her lingering grip.
Li Pingtian’s expressionless face gave little away.
Wang Qi could usually read her micro-expressions, but now—was she tired from preaching? Upset? He couldn’t tell.
After his answer, she finally let go. She glanced at the sky. “It’s late. I must return for prayers.”
“Being a nun seems unexpectedly tough…”
“Yes. Unexpectedly tough.”
Her words carried weight. She held his gaze, waiting—as if hoping he’d say something specific. But Wang Qi had no clue what she wanted to hear.
She stared for a full minute before sighing with theatrical disappointment—a rare gesture for her, clearly meant for his eyes only.
*But why?*
Wang Qi couldn’t decipher his best friend’s thoughts.
Thankfully, Li Pingtian hadn’t expected him to understand.
She waved lightly. “I’ll come again tomorrow.”
Wang Qi blinked. “Tomorrow? You freeloader—once wasn’t enough?” *Or… will I see you here every day?*
She nodded, expressionless, and walked away—the white-clad nun fading into the crowd.
Wang Qi scratched his head, utterly baffled.
All of it had been witnessed by an elf at the neighboring stall.
He turned to her. “Miss Lily… what did she mean?”
The elf stared at him, deadpan. “Let me tell you a story. Maybe you’ll understand.”
“Go on.”
Nostalgia softened her features. “Elves live long lives. Before settling here to sell goods, I wandered the continent for decades. I learned this: elves age slowly, but we level up slowly too. Often, when I revisited places, old adventuring partners were either dead—just graves left—or had become high-level heroes I could never imagine. Either way… it ached. Knowing how things would end, why didn’t I cherish our time together more?”
Wang Qi nodded slowly, feeling the loneliness in her words.
“That truly is sorrowful.”
“So? What do you think?”
“Think?” Wang Qi still didn’t grasp her point.
Lily sighed. “Maybe buy some bard’s love poems. Read them.”
*Bards sing of grand love. Maybe this wooden block will finally get it.* But why would such a rigid man attract that equally rigid nun?
*Same species?*
Even the elf was puzzled.
Wang Qi left with more questions, hunting monsters on the plains, selling loot, and returning home with coins jingling in his pocket.
He hesitated. “I ran into Li Pingtian today.”
Zhang Yemiao’s reaction was odd—just like Li Pingtian’s when he’d mentioned the Dorm Leader hammering iron earlier.
*Do they dislike each other?*
He’d avoided letting them meet. When forced together, their interaction had been… flat. Strange.
Zhang Yemiao clutched his sleeve, unusually clingy. She hadn’t been this attached before. *Just walking in public—no need to be this nervous.*
But with her high affection for him… holding on felt comforting. *If he’d just hold my hand…* But he never initiated. And she was too shy to reach first.
This was safer. Looking young, outsiders might think her his sister—or daughter.
She didn’t notice the flash of silver-white trailing behind them.
Back at the cathedral.
“Pingtian, finished preaching?” asked her senior nun—the one who guided her like a mentor.
Li Pingtian bowed respectfully. “Yes.”
The senior nun returned the bow, gently stroking Li Pingtian’s silver hair. “Don’t mind them. They can’t grasp the greatness of your calling… or your rapid progress.”
“Why do you say that, Sister?” Li Pingtian was confused.
“Because you look unhappy. Were you mocked? Or did preaching go poorly?”
Li Pingtian touched her own face, puzzled. *Was it that obvious?*
