The sole heir of the Daoist sect

It was said that when someone was executed by a gunshot to the back of the head, the trajectory of the bullet formed a downward slant, entering through the occipital region and exiting right through the mouth.

Lin Guichen felt fortunate about this.

Thankfully, he once learned a little trick for facing execution, and now, as he was about to be executed, it was finally useful.

—If you force your mouth open and press your tongue tightly against your lower jaw, the bullet won’t shatter your teeth, lips, and tongue together. That way… you can die a little more decently, and make it easier for the forensic sister to clean up the execution site.

No wonder they say you should keep learning as long as you live—see, it came in handy.

A very practical tip, thanks to the expert who shared it. I hope my colleagues can use it too.

“Bang!!”

The cold, hard muzzle pressed against the back of his head, then erupted with a deafening blast. As his brain trembled, it seemed as if his skull had exploded with a soul-shaking roar.

In that moment, Lin Guichen felt his consciousness lift, his mind blank.

In a foggy haze, he felt like a dying oil lamp, struggling to drive away the surrounding darkness but powerless to do so. His weakened senses made the world distant and blurry.

He didn’t know how much time passed before a thread of pain trickled in, like a ray of light through the confusion, gradually restoring his senses.

“How am I still alive… Can executions really fail?”

Baffled, Lin Guichen felt a little disappointed and helpless.

If one shot didn’t kill him, would they need to fire another?

See, a criminal like him—punished by fate—gets fed two peanuts…

After a while, he sensed something was wrong.

Hiss…

Why did it hurt so much?

His neck hurt, his shoulders hurt, his limbs ached, his stomach ached… His whole body was aflame with pain.

Could the gun have misfired?

Quick, emergency treatment… uh, quick, shoot me again for pain relief—it really hurts!

Lin Guichen tried to open his eyes, like a newborn entering the world for the first time. His eyelids trembled a few times before finally lifting.

What he saw made him pause.

Before him was a door made of wooden planks, sunlight streaming through the cracks, dust motes floating in the beams.

Around him, rough wooden pillars supported the roof, and the walls were so cracked that mud and straw couldn’t hide the damage.

Piles of scattered firewood and twigs leaned against the walls, along with some dried grass and corn stalks.

Was this a woodshed?

Lin Guichen realized immediately.

No wonder the air was thick with the scent of dried wood and faint traces of smoke.

In one corner lay two axes, large and small, two sickles, and a square-headed hammer, their handles etched with the marks of age and decay.

He himself was bound to the thickest pillar in the center of the woodshed.

“What is this place? The countryside? What’s going on…”

Lin Guichen was bewildered, barely able to support his aching neck as he looked up and then down, discovering his hands and feet tied with hemp rope.

He was dressed in a patched, rough short jacket and trousers, clearly mended many times, with tears exposing swollen, scabbed wounds.

Were those whip marks?

Wait…

Staring at his own body, Lin Guichen’s pupils contracted sharply as he awakened.

These skinny limbs like reeds were not his own!

Suddenly, the scene seemed to trigger a floodgate of memories, and sounds and images surged into his mind.

…

He didn’t know how long had passed.

When the memories finally settled, Lin Guichen understood his situation.

“So crossing over really does happen…”

Lin Guichen, born in Yihai of Jiangzuo Huai Province, his biological father went abroad to study but died in a shipwreck. At age five, after his mother remarried, he followed her to Kangle County. Now sixteen years old…

That was his summary of the life of this namesake.

“Disappointing—it’s not even orphaned parents…”

Lin Guichen muttered to himself, recalling his current stepfather. His body trembled reflexively with instinctive fear.

Residual terror?

He glanced at his battered body and couldn’t help cursing, “No wonder I hurt all over, damn…”

His miserable state was entirely thanks to his stepfather.

After marrying into Kangle County, his mother hadn’t enjoyed a good life. Chen Zhonghai, the stepfather, often beat and scolded her, and her son from a previous marriage was beaten countless times, even crippled in one leg. Fear had sunk into his instincts.

Though Lin’s mother was from the prosperous city of Yihai in Jiangzuo, she’d severed ties with her family before marrying into this remote county.

Without her family’s support, and with the Chen clan dominating Kangle County, appealing to the authorities was useless. Chen Zhonghai could beat and scold as he pleased.

Surviving to sixteen was no small feat; he'd been beaten into submission over the years.

But this time, the reason he was tied up and beaten so badly in the woodshed was a marriage.

“Marriage…”

Lin Guichen couldn’t help his eye twitch at the thought of the marriage the previous self had refused.

Normally—

Given how terrified he was of Chen Zhonghai, even if the bride were hideous as a ghost, fat as a pig, or even that “eighteen-year-old plus five hundred months” spinster from the Chen clan, he wouldn’t dare refuse.

But this marriage was even more dreadful than those.

“Thump, thump, thump.”

Just then, someone knocked on the woodshed door.

A rascal’s voice followed from outside:

“Son, have you thought it over? If you agree now, I’ll let you down, let you eat and drink well for a while, then let you marry Third Master’s granddaughter in style, sound good?”

It was Chen Zhonghai.

Every few hours, the stepfather would come to ask.

Lin Guichen said nothing, just tried twisting his bound hands and feet to see if he could break free.

But the rough hemp rope was tightly knotted, and his wrists and ankles were already raw from struggling, each movement bringing fresh waves of agony.

The worst part—

The previous self had spent years half-starved, never eating well, his body weak even before, and he hadn’t eaten for three days now. He was barely alive, with no strength left.

Even if he untied himself, he couldn’t stand.

Outside, Chen Zhonghai sneered and continued, “If you want to die early, I can oblige. If Third Master hadn’t said you should be alive, do you think I’d waste time with you?”

“If you keep being stubborn, on the wedding day, I’ll tie you up and force you to bow at the altar. You’ll suffer then.”

He continued, “I heard when the clan held ghost marriages, if the new groom was stubborn like you, they’d pull out the tongue, sew the mouth shut, and nail the hands and feet in the coffin—so you couldn’t complain to the King of Hell. Only then could you be buried. If you behave, you’ll suffer less. Makes sense, right?”

Lin Guichen lifted his head, wanting to curse his ancestors, but had no strength left.

“Think it over,” Chen Zhonghai grunted, then left.

“Just crossed over, and it’s this miserable?”

Lin Guichen felt powerless, darkness clouding his vision from hunger and exhaustion.

Wasn’t the feudal dynasty “Great Yong” already fallen in this world?

How was it still so backward, with such insane ghost marriage customs?

He was to marry a corpse—and be buried alive with it!

Damn.

The thought of lying with a corpse in a coffin, buried alive, waiting for death in pitch darkness made Lin Guichen shiver.

If that was the case, he’d rather die now.

What kind of bastard stepfather would do this, just for the generous dowry from Third Master’s family, willing to eat his own stepson’s blood-soaked bread?

“What a nightmare start…”

Lin Guichen gritted his teeth and tried struggling again, but it only brought fresh pain to his wrists.

He had already died once.

He’d been given a second chance at life. If possible, he wanted to live well.

But tired and hungry, he soon fainted.

In his haze, Lin Guichen felt his consciousness swallowed by dark currents, the boundary between dream and reality blurring.

Then he heard faint chanting.

“The human heart is cunning. Establishing the way of heaven is to define humanity…”

“The way of nature is tranquil, thus all things are born. The way of heaven is permeating, thus yin and yang prevail…”

“Thus the sage knows the way of nature cannot be defied, and so he sets the rules…”

Who was chanting outside the door?

Lin Guichen listened drowsily, finding it strange—the chanting seemed to come from a child, hesitantly spoken.

Like someone just learning to talk.

And along with it was a strange, low sound—like thunder rumbling in clouds, or the growling of an empty stomach…

What was that noise?

“Good.”

A soft sigh sounded suddenly, and Lin Guichen felt a hand, cold as a corpse, press down on his head, the palm against his forehead, chilling him to the core.

Then, a detached voice echoed in the dream:

“You suit me well. Are you willing to enter my sect?”

As the voice spoke, the chanting ceased and was replaced by a girl’s stifled giggle, while the strange thunderous growling grew stronger.

Huh? Why couldn’t they speak plainly… He tried opening his mouth and found he could make a sound:

“Mm…”

He hesitated, about to ask more, but the detached voice spoke again:

“Good. From this moment, you are a disciple of my Daoist sect.”

Lin Guichen stared.

Daoist sect?

Wait, he hadn’t agreed yet!

But before he could protest, a cold wave washed over his scalp, jolting him awake.

“…A dream?”

He opened his eyes to the dim woodshed, pain returning throughout his body, his eyelids twitching.

The dream had been so vivid, it hardly felt like a dream.

Suddenly—

“Hehe…”

A floating giggle sounded inside the woodshed, crisp and childlike, like laughter in hide-and-seek, yet also ghostly, sly and strange.

Lin Guichen froze.

He’d heard that giggle in the dream!

Could it not have been a dream?

Enduring the pain in his neck, he searched the dim woodshed, and soon spotted a small figure hiding behind the leftmost pillar.

“I see you.”

Lin Guichen stared, his voice hoarse, “You were chanting outside the door just now, weren’t you? How did you get in?”

His throat was rough and dry from two days without water, rasping like wood rubbing together.

“Hehe…”

The giggle came from behind the pillar, and a child’s delicate face peeked out, bashfully glancing at him, but with slyness in her big, black eyes.

“A Daoist child?” Lin Guichen was taken aback.

Just that half of a pale, exquisite face, clearly still childish, seemed to belong to a young girl. She wore a Daoist headscarf, a Daoist robe, and a pouch at her waist—a Daoist child for sure.

“The Daoist master told me to follow you.”

Hiding behind the pillar, she blinked her clear eyes and grinned, “Blessings of the Daoist Ancestor—finding such a suitable successor is rare. Now you’re the only heir to our sect! Congratulations!”

She raised her small hand and clapped quickly, her sleeves fluttering.

“Daoist sect…” Lin Guichen recalled the dream.

He hardly thought himself suited to be a Daoist, but in his current situation, he wasn’t foolish enough to doubt.

“Where is the Daoist master?”

Lin Guichen weakly asked, “Since I’ve been accepted as a disciple, the master can save me, right?”

The little Daoist probably had neither strength nor courage to rescue him—he needed an adult’s help.

“Hehe… You’re not qualified to meet the master, nor to worship the Daoist Ancestor yet.”

The little Daoist shook her finger cutely. “The books say the sect emphasizes tranquility and non-action, following nature. We can’t intervene to help you, or else it wouldn’t be Daoism.”

As she spoke, she walked over to Lin Guichen, hands behind her back, tilting her head and scrutinizing him for a while. Suddenly, she covered her mouth with a gasp, retreating a few steps in fear.

Her eyes were already brimming with tears.

“What’s wrong?” Lin Guichen asked, stunned.

“Boo hoo… How could this be…”

The little Daoist covered her mouth with both hands, about to cry. “You won’t live past today. Oh heavens, our sect finally found such a precious heir, and the Way is so unfair…”

Before Lin Guichen could respond, she suddenly broke into a smile, leaped up, hooked her legs around a beam, and ripped off her Daoist headscarf, letting her waterfall of black hair tumble down.

The tears she’d just shed flowed back into her eyes.

With a flick of her finger, the tears vanished.

She grinned at Lin Guichen, excited: “Since that’s the case, I’ll start looking for the next heir. No need to risk refining pills, hehe…”

Lin Guichen was dumbfounded.

Changing heirs already?

Wasn’t that a bit too hasty…