Chapter 12: The Spirit Drum

The middle-aged man in the black tunic lay dead on the ground, no longer breathing. Lin Guichen didn’t approach; he simply watched from a distance. Though the blow just now would have been fatal to any ordinary man, this world was hardly normal, so he dared not be careless. Yet, the Daoist did not appear; it seemed this man was just an ordinary person, uninitiated into any sinister legacy. He probably hadn’t even opened his spiritual orifices; otherwise, Lin would have sensed a murderous intent before the man struck.

“Master... Master...” Xiao Cui, trembling, had collapsed to the ground, staring at Lin Guichen in disbelief at what had just taken place. She never imagined that this gentle, thin young master could kill so ruthlessly.

“Can you stand?” Lin Guichen glanced at her, his tone casual. “If you can, go tell Third Master what happened.”

The words he’d spoken to the corpse earlier were, in truth, meant for Xiao Cui—after all, she was a witness.

“But... but...” Xiao Cui was on the verge of tears. “You just killed Third Master’s disciple, and you want me to go to him...?”

She had thought the young master would ask her to keep this secret, or perhaps threaten her. She never expected to be ordered to tell Third Master directly.

“Do you really believe what he said?” Lin Guichen smiled. “He was lying to you. Besides...” He trailed off for a moment. “Just go.”

There was something he left unsaid. Even if it was true, so what? Third Master Chen had wanted him dead all along, had deliberately deceived him about the bone flute—what did killing one of the old scoundrel’s disciples matter?

“It wasn’t true?” Xiao Cui relaxed a little, then forced her trembling legs to stand. Before she could leave, a young woman appeared at the gate. It was Su Zichu.

“Just in time,” Lin Guichen said, approaching her with a smile. “Look at the man on the ground—is he your fellow apprentice?”

Su Zichu glanced without emotion at the corpse. “No. He’s from the Fourth Young Master’s quarters. But... could you tell he was about to kill you?”

Lin Guichen lifted an eyebrow, then laughed softly. “So Miss Zichu, you already knew he was here to kill me?”

“Since last night, Third Master told me to stay and protect you.” Su Zichu’s voice was calm. “I saw everything just now—he did intend to kill you. I was waiting for an opportunity to shoot him, but you acted first.”

As she spoke, she walked over and nudged the man’s arm with her toe, revealing the tip of a dagger hidden in his sleeve.

“Good thing I was quick,” Lin Guichen said, feigning a sigh of relief. “I almost got killed myself.”

“You don’t look like someone who just escaped death,” Su Zichu said quietly. “In fact, you seem more ruthless than anyone.”

“It’s all just an act inside,” Lin Guichen replied with a smile. “But the man not only wanted to kill me—he must have wanted the bone flute too. Otherwise, he could have struck as soon as he got close. He probably heard me say I’d hidden the flute, got worried he wouldn’t find it or would waste time, and decided to wait until I went to fetch it.”

He glanced at Su Zichu, his tone playful. “Miss Zichu, didn’t Third Master say last night that the snake-faced man’s attempt on my life was just a coincidence?”

Su Zichu was silent for a moment. “Come with me and ask Third Master yourself.”

“What about the body?” Lin Guichen asked.

“Leave it,” Su Zichu replied. “I’ll have someone take care of it.”

…

Beneath an old pagoda tree, Third Master Chen sat at a stone table, eyes fixed on a board of chess pieces, while Su Zichu whispered in his ear. When she finished, the old man looked up at Lin Guichen with a faint smile.

“Sit. Do you play chess?”

“No,” Lin Guichen replied honestly.

“A pity.” Third Master Chen shook his head. “You’re quite cautious—but I suspect you didn’t believe a word I said last night.”

“I was just maintaining a healthy skepticism,” Lin Guichen said.

He couldn’t explain that the little Daoist had warned him someone was after his life, but there was no need to explain.

“That’s just as well,” Third Master Chen nodded. “I did deceive you last night, but it was for your own good. If you’d known the truth, you’d have been unable to eat or sleep. Besides, telling you would’ve served no purpose.”

Lin Guichen chuckled. “I only have a month left to live—what’s there to fear?”

“Fair point.” Third Master Chen nodded. “If you want to know, I’ll tell you.”

Lin Guichen made a show of listening intently, though he knew the old man would still lie, or at least not tell the whole truth.

“The one who sent the snake-faced man after you last night was likely the one you just killed,” Third Master Chen said. “And he did it because of me.”

He paused, then continued, “I have an old adversary, known as Drum Ghost. We call him Old Drumstick. He and the Chen family have a long-standing grudge, especially with me. He even planted spies in my ancestral home.”

He glanced at Lin Guichen. “The marriage between you and my granddaughter is to her benefit. Naturally, he wanted to ruin it. Once his informant here learned of it, he sent the snake-faced man to kill you on his own initiative.”

“But... Drum Ghost’s man probably didn’t expect that, since you failed to receive the protection of the five household guardian spirits, I’d give you ash from the sun furnace. Now that the snake-faced man is dead, the informant must have decided to take a chance, kill you, and reclaim the bone flute—since the flute was a magical tool bestowed by Drum Ghost himself to both the snake-faced man and his informant.”

Lin Guichen pondered this. Much of what the old man said seemed plausible. It was indeed after he agreed to the marriage that disasters began to befall him. The adversary was only a common person, so the level of danger wasn’t high, and the little Daoist was willing to give him pills every three days. If Drum Ghost himself were involved, the danger would be far greater.

“You said Drum Ghost’s spy acted on his own? Why? Wouldn’t Drum Ghost prefer to handle it himself?”

“That’s because Drum Ghost is away from Kangle County right now,” Third Master Chen replied. “At the end of the month, there’s a festival at Black Lantern Temple in Yihai. The sinister god behind Drum Ghost is a wandering deity sent by the temple—so Drum Ghost had to accompany him to the festival. He won’t return until next month.”

“A wandering god?” Lin Guichen asked curiously.

“Ancestor gods and wandering gods are all sinister spirits—just with different titles,” Third Master Chen explained. “This one is called the Drum Yama, and Drum Ghost is his chosen successor—or, you could say, his agent. Now that the wandering god has gone to Yihai, Drum Ghost had to follow. He’ll be back at the start of next month.”

Lin Guichen understood. The title Drum Yama sounded truly menacing.

“How skilled is Drum Ghost? Is the Drum Yama behind him truly powerful?”

“More than powerful,” Third Master Chen said, shaking his head. “No ancestor god in the Chen family can compare, except perhaps two who come close. The snake-faced creature that attacked you last night was a monster Drum Ghost created after inheriting the art of beast-making from the Drum Yama—a half-man, half-beast, neither living nor dead. And that’s just one of his skills.”

No wonder, Lin Guichen thought, that his ‘calamity’ was only every three days—Drum Ghost himself wasn’t even in the county, and the matter was handled by an underling. So he wasn’t in as much danger as he might have been.

“So if Drum Ghost returns, I’ll be in real danger,” Lin Guichen said, frowning deliberately. “But then again, he’s sure to have more than one spy here. Maybe another monster will come before he’s back?”

Third Master Chen looked at him for a moment. “That’s possible. But I’ll do my best to protect you.”

Lin Guichen turned to Su Zichu. “Why not have Miss Su protect me personally?”

“That won’t do,” Third Master Chen said, shaking his head. “I can assign more people to guard you. Snake-faced creatures like that are, in the end, just special beasts—a group of men can handle them.”

Lin Guichen had expected as much. Third Master took Su Zichu everywhere; she was more bodyguard than disciple, and he was unlikely to assign her elsewhere.

Still, he pressed on, “But what if some of your men are Drum Ghost’s spies, or can be bribed? I don’t dare trust anyone else.”

Third Master Chen fell silent, considering Drum Ghost’s methods. “Then what do you propose?”

“People are unreliable, but tools are not,” Lin Guichen said. “Why not give me several large sacks of that furnace ash, or some magical implements?”

“Magical implements?” Third Master Chen looked at him in surprise. “If you haven’t opened your spiritual orifices, you can’t use magical tools. As for the sun furnace ash... it’s more valuable than most magical items, and you want several sacks?”

He hesitated. “I can give you three more bags like last night, and assign you a reliable helper to stand guard every night. How’s that?”

“A reliable helper? Are you sure?” Lin Guichen was already thinking of how to refuse. He wanted to lure out more monsters and destroy them with the furnace ash, earning more rewards from the Daoist. Having someone watching him would complicate things.

“Rest assured, absolutely reliable,” Third Master Chen said with a smile. “It’s my granddaughter—your future bride.”

Lin Guichen was about to find another excuse, but stopped short, nodding. “That’s someone I can trust.”

He was already thinking about using the Spirit Taming Talisman—this was perfect.

“But before you meet her, you’ll need to see her father and finalize the betrothal,” Third Master Chen said cheerfully. “Then we’ll burn the contract at her grave, and take her memorial tablet to your place. Even if she doesn’t like you, she’ll have to protect you, and at night she’ll keep watch for you.”

He paused. “But you must treat Yu’er well—if you harm her, I won’t forgive you.”

“Don’t worry,” Lin Guichen replied. Having another female ghost as a helper was no bad thing—she could watch for evil spirits and serve as an assistant, making him safer.

“You can go back for now,” Third Master Chen said. “I’ll visit the sun furnace and some other places to gather more ash for you. I gave you all I had last night.”

“Shouldn’t I see Chen Linyu’s father now?” Lin Guichen asked.

“Wait until noon,” Third Master Chen replied. “The yang energy is strongest then—it’s the best time to visit the sun furnace.”

Lin Guichen nodded.

…

When he returned to his small courtyard, the corpse had already been removed, the blood scrubbed away, leaving only faint stains. Xiao Cui was still there, scrubbing hard, the water in her basin tinged red.

“Enough, leave some patterns—it looks better that way,” Lin Guichen said with a smile.

“Master, you’re back,” Xiao Cui replied, shaking her head. “It’s fine; I have nothing else to do. It feels better to clean thoroughly.”

“Suit yourself.” Lin Guichen left her to it and went inside.

As soon as he shut the door, he looked to the little Daoist child who had silently followed him back. “The calamity has been dealt with. How often can you make pills now?”

The child leaped lightly onto the table, reclining with her hands behind her head and legs crossed. “Your calamity is still present, but things are much quieter now. I can draw more energy from the world, so... one pill a day.”

“Much better!” Lin Guichen said, delighted.

The Daoist had already given him one pill the previous morning.

“One more hour,” the little Daoist said, glancing up at Lin Guichen, who was reading nearby. She grinned mischievously. “Call me ‘Grand-aunt,’ and I’ll give you the pill in eight quarters of an hour. What do you say?”

But an hour is eight quarters, Lin Guichen thought, his lips twitching. He flicked her on the forehead. “Don’t tease me, little girl.”

But his finger passed right through her, as though through air.

“What are you doing? You can’t touch me,” the little Daoist huffed. “This is the highest state of tranquility—untouched by all things, free from dust.”

“Can you touch anything yourself?” Lin Guichen asked.

“...Grand-aunt can’t be bothered,” she replied, turning away.

Lin Guichen understood then. It seemed the outside world couldn’t affect the Daoist child, and she, in turn, couldn’t affect the world.

He grew more curious—why were the Daoist and the Daoist child so insistent on not letting anyone else see them?

An hour soon passed.

“Time’s up. You need your medicine,” the little Daoist said languidly, sprawling across the table. She picked up the pouch at her waist. “So, what kind of pills do you want this time? Two, as usual.”

“Two Opening-Spirit Pills, of course,” Lin Guichen answered without hesitation.

Last time, one Opening-Spirit Pill had unlocked his first spiritual orifice. This time, with two, perhaps he could open two at once—who knew what changes that might bring?