11. Arcane Arts

“This is...”
Old Third Chen reached out to take the bone flute handed over by Lin Guichen. He examined it carefully, then peered through one of the finger holes, checking the inner wall of the flute. Suddenly, his expression changed.

“What’s wrong?” Lin Guichen asked. “Does this bone flute have some special origin?”

Old Third Chen was silent for a while before he replied slowly, “This is a magical instrument. If you play it with spiritual energy, it can isolate sounds within a certain range. But now it has almost exhausted its spiritual power.”

He glanced at Lin Guichen and said, “If you want it, I can give it to you. You can have Zichu help you activate it at night, so you’ll sleep a bit more peacefully.”

Lin Guichen considered this, frowning. “But that snake with a human face brought this bone flute to find me, deliberately hiding her movements. Clearly, she didn’t mean well.”

Old Third Chen looked at him calmly. “You’re overthinking it. Who would target a dying man like you?”

He shook his head. “It’s just a coincidence. That snake with a human face has some skill too. It’s not strange for her to have lucked into such a magical instrument. Maybe she didn’t come to kill you, just to steal some of your essence.”

Lin Guichen fell silent.

If the little priest hadn’t said he was haunted by calamity, he might have believed this explanation.

But it was obvious Old Third Chen recognized the bone flute and was now lying.

Still, if Old Third Chen was unwilling to talk, what could he do?

He could only wait patiently for the right moment.

“Perhaps I’m just being paranoid,” Lin Guichen said, putting on a relieved expression. He then asked, “You said the snake with a human face had some skill? And what does it mean to open the ‘spiritual orifices’?”

Seeing that Lin Guichen had dropped the subject, Old Third Chen explained patiently, “All things have spirit. Only by opening the spiritual orifices can one better sense all things and use their own spiritual energy. If one opens the orifices and receives the true teachings of an Ancestral Spirit, that’s what we call initiation.”

“True teachings of an Ancestral Spirit?” Lin Guichen asked, puzzled.

“Yes,” Old Third Chen said. “Ancestral Spirits are gods, after all, and quite special. If they’re willing, they can pass down a particular skill they mastered in life to a suitable person through spiritual inheritance. But that person must have opened their spiritual orifices.”

“A skill?” Lin Guichen was still unclear.

“For example,” Old Third Chen explained, “before the Chen clan’s people entered your house today, you must have seen someone climb over the wall and easily pick the lock, right? He inherited the skill of ‘breaking and entering’ from an ancestor-spirit.”

Lin Guichen was astonished. Such skills could be inherited?

“Actually, decades ago, his lock-picking skill wasn’t nearly as refined,” Old Third Chen remarked. “But once his forebear inherited the skill from the ancestor-spirit, over time it became even more polished. After his forebear died, he became an ancestor-spirit through a spirit burial, then passed the even more refined skill to the next generation. Passed down like this, the skill grows ever more profound.”

Lin Guichen grew increasingly amazed.

So that’s how it worked? The previous generation becomes an ancestor-spirit, passes on the skill, then the next generation does the same, and so on?

“No wonder the Chen clan is so strong...” Lin Guichen murmured. “This kind of inheritance not only preserves the craft, but even improves it. If you could pass it down to multiple people, wouldn’t you be invincible?”

Old Third Chen chuckled dryly and shook his head. “It’s not that simple. This inheritance is essentially a transfer. Once it’s passed on, it’s gone. So it can only be given to one person at a time.”

Only one person per generation? Lin Guichen wasn’t surprised. If it could be freely copied, that would really be invincible.

“And besides, only those who have opened their spiritual orifices can receive the inheritance,” Old Third Chen went on. “But where would you find so many people born with open orifices? Forcing them open later is costly. If the ancestral spirit passes on a skill to someone whose orifices aren’t open, the skill is lost.”

“Lost?” Lin Guichen asked curiously.

“For example, your stepfather, Chen Zhonghai—he ruined a skill,” Old Third Chen sighed. “He was meant to inherit his great-grandfather Chen Yuanfang’s calligraphy technique. In his day, Chen Yuanfang’s calligraphy was renowned. But among his descendants, not a single one was born with open orifices.”

He sighed again. “Especially by Chen Zhonghai’s generation, the family had dwindled, and he was impotent as well. Over the years, Chen Yuanfang’s spiritual incense grew weaker. Fearing the family line would end, he had no choice but to pass on his calligraphy before fading away.”

Chen Zhonghai was impotent? Lin Guichen raised his brows; this was news to him.

No wonder he was so twisted.

“Someone whose orifices aren’t open can still receive the ancestor-spirit’s inheritance?” Lin Guichen asked.

“They can,” Old Third Chen replied, “but what they receive isn’t really a skill, but a talent.”

Now Lin Guichen understood.

No wonder Chen Zhonghai was barely literate, yet his calligraphy was so excellent, as if innately gifted.

So that was the reason.

Talent is just talent; for it to become a true, refined skill, one needs not only talent but also years of practice and study—a mastery that comes from experience.

So in essence, the skill resets.

Which is why, after Lin Guichen killed Chen Zhonghai, the Daoist priest only gave him a fragmentary reward.

“And since Chen Zhonghai never opened his orifices, even if he were spirit-buried, he couldn’t become an Ancestral Spirit. The skill is lost,” Old Third Chen concluded with a shake of his head.

“Can’t it be passed to outsiders?” Lin Guichen asked.

“It can,” Old Third Chen said, “but passing it to an outsider drains the Ancestral Spirit far too much. Unless that outsider has more than one or two orifices open, most Ancestral Spirits won’t pay that price.”

He looked at Lin Guichen. “But passing it to a blood relative costs far less. The closer the kinship, the less it costs. For Chen Yuanfang, by the end, he didn’t even have enough spiritual power left to pass it to anyone else.”

Lin Guichen pondered, gaining some understanding of Ancestral Spirits.

They rely on incense offerings to exist, but eventually they fade away.

However, they can pass their skills to their descendants, like a baton in a relay race.

He also noticed an important point—

The more spiritual orifices opened, the less it costs the Ancestral Spirit to pass on their knowledge.

No wonder the little priest said that taking the Orifice-Opening Pill marks one as favored by ghosts and gods...

“Did you also receive an ancestor-spirit’s inheritance?” Lin Guichen asked, as if unintentionally.

Old Third Chen replied calmly, “Anyone with high status in the Chen clan has basically opened their orifices and received an ancestral inheritance.”

Lin Guichen wasn’t surprised by this.

It made sense.

And from Old Third Chen’s status, it was likely more than just an ordinary skill.

“Can a snake with a human face also receive an Ancestral Spirit’s inheritance?” Lin Guichen couldn’t help but ask.

Old Third Chen glanced at him. “A snake with a human face is still human. If she’s opened her orifices, she can receive inheritance too.”

“What?” Lin Guichen was stunned. “The snake woman is human?”

“Are you familiar with the arts of ‘harvesting life and severing limbs,’ or beast-crafting?” Old Third Chen explained, “It’s a bizarre skill, fusing living humans with animals, turning them into monsters neither dead nor alive. The snake woman was created this way.”

Lin Guichen was shocked into silence.

Limb removal, fused with a snake? Unimaginable.

“Who did this?” he couldn’t help asking.

Perhaps the one who made the snake woman was the source of his calamity?

“You don’t need to know,” Old Third Chen said softly. “That’s someone even my Chen clan has to fear.”

Lin Guichen didn’t press further.

But he found it odd.

If such a powerful figure wanted him dead, why did the little priest say the crisis was only three days away?

It seemed someone else had sent the snake woman after him.

“Rest well. Tomorrow you’ll meet the Ancestral Spirit,” Old Third Chen said. “Later, I’ll have Zichu bring you another bag of ash from the sun furnace.”

Lin Guichen nodded.

With that, Old Third Chen left, leaning on Su Zichu’s arm.

Lin Guichen picked up the bone flute Old Third Chen had left on the table. Imitating him, he brought the flute to his eye and peered into one of the holes.

He paused.

Inside the chamber of the flute, a pattern was carved.

It was a drum.

...

Night fell, shrouded in gloom.

On a quiet path in the estate, Old Third Chen glanced at Su Zichu, who was supporting him, and spoke softly, “This boy does have some composure. But...don’t you think he seems a bit too mature?”

Su Zichu nodded slightly. “I agree. He doesn’t act like a sheltered sixteen-year-old.”

“There may be another reason,” Old Third Chen said. “But whatever it is, nothing must interfere with his marriage to Yu’er.”

Su Zichu asked quietly, “Master, do you know who’s trying to kill Lin Guichen?”

“Who else but that old Drumstick?” Old Third Chen snorted. “But this month is the festival at Black Lantern Temple, and Drumstick went to Yihai long ago. He won’t be back in Kangle County for a while. The one who ordered the snake woman to act tonight must be Drumstick’s agent in the estate. Drumstick himself probably doesn’t even know.”

“That makes sense,” Su Zichu agreed. “If Drumstick had acted himself, it wouldn’t have been just one snake woman.”

Old Third Chen mused, “Keep a close eye on Lin Guichen. Drumstick’s agent in the estate probably doesn’t know what happened yet—he may show himself again.”

Su Zichu nodded, then realized something. “So that’s why you deliberately left the bone flute with him.”

“It’s only a flute,” Old Third Chen said, shaking his head.

...

The next morning.

When Lin Guichen opened his eyes, the sun had already risen, and he felt a bit more at ease.

In the side room, the servant girl Xiaocui had already gotten up early to work.

When she saw he was awake, she hurried over with a basin of warm water to help him wash his hands and face.

Then she brought hot steamed buns and meat porridge from the kitchen, set them on the stone table in the courtyard, wiped the stone bench, and finally called him to breakfast.

Lin Guichen’s body hadn’t tasted proper, nutritious food—let alone meat—in a long time.

Even after taking the Fasting Pill, so that eating was unnecessary, he still couldn’t resist having two buns and a bowl of meat porridge to nourish his frail body.

There were still a few buns and half a pot of meat porridge left on the table. Lin Guichen glanced over at Xiaocui, who was loosening the soil in a flowerpot with an awl, and said, “Why don’t you come eat some, Xiaocui?”

“Sir, may I?” Xiaocui asked in surprise.

“Of course. Come sit here to eat,” Lin Guichen replied, standing up. “I’ll stretch my legs a bit. All these flowerpots need the soil loosened, right?”

Xiaocui quickly shook her head. “You should rest, sir. I’ll take care of this.”

“I just got up. What’s there to rest from?” Lin Guichen laughed, took the awl from her hand, and started loosening the soil himself.

There wasn’t even an interesting book to be found in this house, let alone any entertainment. He’d get sick of lying around. In his previous life, he’d have just gone back to bed and played on his phone without a second thought.

Xiaocui, a bit ill at ease, finally sat down and began eating carefully. The kitchen only gave servants vegetarian buns today—she’d been eyeing those greasy meat buns for a while.

At that moment, a middle-aged man in a black jacket suddenly came into the courtyard.

Xiaocui was so startled she put down her half-eaten bun and stood up, pretending to tidy the table.

The man glanced at her, then turned his attention to Lin Guichen, who was working on the flowerpots. “Sir, Old Third Chen is looking for you.”

“Oh?” Lin Guichen looked at him, a bit puzzled. Why hadn’t Old Third Chen sent Su Zichu this time?

He pulled out the awl, stopped what he was doing, and asked, “Wasn’t our meeting set for this afternoon? Why now?”

The man replied, “Sir, Old Third Chen looked into last night’s events and found something new. He wants to ask you more about the bone flute.”

“The bone flute?” Lin Guichen eyed him. “Old Third Chen really trusts you. Should I bring the flute? I hid it so well last night, and now I have to dig it out again?”

As he spoke, he glanced at the little priest sitting nearby. She was pointedly looking away, muttering, “Why can’t it ever be quiet...”

The man nodded. “Naturally. I suppose Master just wants to verify something.”

“You’re one of Old Third Chen’s disciples too?” Lin Guichen’s eyes lit up. He hurried over, smiling warmly. “Can you teach me how to please Old Third Chen? Does he have any quirks?”

The man was taken aback, then gave a helpless smile. “I really can’t say. You’d best come with me to see him.”

“All right.” Lin Guichen shrugged and was about to turn away when suddenly his eyes brightened and he exclaimed, “Su Zichu?”

The man’s expression changed and he instinctively turned his head.

In that instant—

Lin Guichen swung his arm back, plunging the awl in his hand into the man’s neck.

With a muffled pop, the awl pierced his throat, and blood began to flow.

“Hu...hu...” The man managed to turn, staring at Lin Guichen in disbelief, his mouth opening as if to ask why.

At that moment, Lin Guichen let go, leaving the awl embedded in the man’s artery, its tip piercing his throat and pressing against the fragile vertebra.

Xiaocui, still pretending to clean up, was frozen in shock.

“Don’t talk—it hurts. Relax...it’ll be over soon,” Lin Guichen said softly, backing away.

The man collapsed, blood gushing out, but he kept his head raised, eyes fixed on Lin Guichen.

“What are you staring at? Did you really think you could trick me into giving you the flute?” Lin Guichen shook his head at the man’s incredulity. “So it was you who sent the snake woman to kill me... You made too many mistakes. I never agreed to a meeting time with Old Third Chen, just said it would be today.”

The man, lying on the ground, stared at him, eyes full of unwillingness.

If he’d known, he would have attacked at once—killed Old Third Chen’s grandson-in-law and the servant girl, then searched for the flute.

It would have been better than dying here without even trying.

What he couldn’t understand was how this young man could be so cautious.

A casual test, and just one flaw, and the boy killed him without hesitation?

“Of course, it could have been a misunderstanding,” Lin Guichen said evenly. “But the bone flute was left here by Old Third Chen on purpose. When I said I’d bring it, you agreed without hesitation?”

Of course...

But the main reason was the little priest’s reaction.

That was the real, decisive warning.