17. Celestial Deities and Earthly Spirits

"I'm sorry..."

Chen Linyu clenched her teeth tightly, forcing herself to utter those three words.

But it was clear she didn't mean it; the lie had barely left her lips before Lin Guichen, still bound by the Mystic Fire of the Spirit Talisman, sensed it at once.

"Though there's not a shred of sincerity, it's a start," Lin Guichen remarked with a faint smile.

Chen Linyu stood there in silence.

Lin Guichen knew how stubborn she was; this was only an apology in words. He had never expected her to truly submit to him from the heart.

He glanced at her again and said, "Don't worry. As long as you treat me normally, I won't do anything excessive to you. But if I really wanted to, you wouldn't be able to resist, would you?"

Chen Linyu secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

In her heart, she conceded that he was right. If he was truly malicious, there was nothing she could do to stop him.

...

That night, Lin Guichen conversed with his fiancée until deep into the night.

Of course, it was mostly him asking questions and her answering. It was obvious she was only pretending to be obedient; she still harbored no respect for him in her heart.

But that didn't matter. It was enough for him to learn more about her. After all, he could tell whether she was being truthful or not.

However, he didn't ask about the things he truly wanted to know—such as the worship of gods or the mysteries of spiritual aptitude. The time was not yet right.

She was still wary, and probing into those matters would only make her more guarded.

Besides, he had only opened two spirit apertures so far. Even if he went to worship a god, he would have only the slimmest chance of 'dreaming of a deity by night.'

Better to wait until he had opened more spirit apertures.

"I'm tired," Lin Guichen said, yawning. "Are you going back to your shrine tablet?"

Chen Linyu hesitated before replying, "Grandfather said there's a chance you could be attacked by evil spirits or wandering ghosts. I don't need to sleep; I can keep watch for you."

"Thank you," Lin Guichen said offhandedly. "It's rather shameful, really. If I were to die, this curse's black flames would continue to torment you forever."

Chen Linyu's expression changed.

"No need to worry," Lin Guichen said with a gentle smile. "Before our joint burial, I'll remove the curse. After all, you're innocent. My grudge is with your grandfather—I never intended to drag you into this."

Chen Linyu was startled and fell silent.

"Believe it or not, that's up to you. That's all. I'm going to sleep," Lin Guichen added, saying no more. He walked to the bed, lay down fully clothed, and turned his back to her.

Still, his mind was active: "This can't go on. I need to find a way to win her genuine trust and willingness to help me..."

At least for now, he no longer had to worry about Chen Linyu running to complain to Old Master Chen—unless she wished for mutual destruction.

...

The next morning.

Lin Guichen lounged lazily on a recliner, soaking up the sun, as if content to just let time pass.

By his reckoning, it would soon be time for the young Daoist to refine pills.

Since he'd dealt with Old Drummer, the Chen clan’s spy in the ancestral home, life had been far more peaceful. The intervals between the Daoist child's alchemy sessions had been reduced to just one day.

So, by this calculation—

The third spirit aperture would require four Opening Pills, or two days; the fourth would need eight, or another four days.

In six days, he would have opened four spirit apertures.

"With two apertures, there's a slim hope of dreaming of a deity by night; with three, the chance is much better. Four, and the odds should be quite high," Lin Guichen mused.

Chen Muzhi had said that opening five spirit apertures marked one as a rare genius, so four couldn't be too far behind.

If he went to worship a god, in theory, it should work.

"Today is February 12. There's a month left until the burial on March 15."

"The fifth aperture will take another eight days—that is, fourteen days in total. And that's only if nothing new goes wrong in the meantime. Too time-consuming..."

"Yes, before opening the fourth aperture, I need to have a plan in place," Lin Guichen thought, eyes closed, reclining, silently weighing the steps ahead.

He didn’t think himself cleverer than someone as shrewd as Old Master Chen.

His only real advantage was the unpredictability introduced by the Daoist child and master.

He had to remain hidden, yet not appear too weak, lest he be taken advantage of. Better to seem thorny—then at least there was room to negotiate.

"Let me ask you something," Lin Guichen called out suddenly to the young Daoist sunning himself not far away. "After you refine the pills, can you store them for a while before I take them?"

"Of course," the young Daoist replied without opening his eyes, sprawled under a tree. "But you'd better choose in advance."

"Alright," Lin Guichen nodded. "From now on, just refine Opening Pills every time. Keep making them until we've saved up twelve."

The young Daoist grunted in reply.

"By the way," Lin Guichen asked, "if I take all twelve Opening Pills at once, will the effect be the same? Any side effects?"

"You could take five hundred at once, it wouldn't matter. They're all refined from the breath of heaven and earth," the young Daoist muttered lazily.

"Good," Lin Guichen sighed in relief.

Now, it was just a matter of stockpiling Opening Pills and figuring out everything about Chen Linyu.

...

The days seemed to pass peacefully.

In the blink of an eye, it was five nights later.

"That new cheongsam suits you well," Lin Guichen said with a smile, sitting in his chair and admiring Chen Linyu, who had changed into new attire. "It really fits you."

During the day, Old Master Chen had sent the cheongsam Chen Linyu requested. He himself burned it in a brazier, mixed with her birth date and name, as an offering to her.

—The principle was a bit like mail: cremation served as the delivery, and the address was the birth date and name.

Tonight, Chen Linyu wore a plain cheongsam, free of ornate patterns, simple and elegant. The fabric was soft cotton-linen, light and unadorned, with a natural air.

The collar covered her collarbone, and the hem revealed just a slim, pale calf—modest, yet still graceful.

Her long, dark hair was tied in a low ponytail, a few loose strands falling by her ears, softening her usual sharpness and lending her a gentle poise, like a delicate ink painting radiating a classical charm.

"Tell me," Lin Guichen said suddenly, a mischievous thought in his eyes, "if I burn any clothes for you, does that mean you have to wear them?"

Chen Linyu shot him a glare, frowning. "Of course not. Just because you send them doesn't mean I'll wear them if I don't want to."

"I see..." Lin Guichen shook his head in mock disappointment. He'd hoped he could treat her like a life-sized figurine—what a pity.

"..."

Chen Linyu could tell at a glance that he was up to no good.

But she dared not voice her anger.

Over the past few days, she and Lin Guichen had grown somewhat familiar. He had not tormented or humiliated her again.

In their conversations, she noticed that his thinking, vision, and manner of speech were very different from his peers—free, forward-thinking, untouched by the old patriarchal prejudices.

To her surprise, she found him rather agreeable; her impression of him had improved.

She also realized he could see through her thoughts: every time she lied, he would expose her.

So she stopped bothering to play mind games and simply answered honestly—after all, he never asked anything too private.

"May I ask you something," Lin Guichen said, looking at her. "Did you worship any god when you were alive?"

Chen Linyu nodded slightly. "Of course."

"Which one?" he asked.

She glanced at him, replying, "I inherited the legacy of the Sun Palace's Yin gods, so naturally, I worshipped the Dark Lantern Mother."

"Of course? Why do you say that?" Lin Guichen pressed, unconcerned about revealing his ignorance since he could tell truth from lies.

Chen Linyu explained, "Throughout the Sun Palace lineage in Huaidong Province, those who worship an earth deity almost always worship the Dark Lantern Mother at the Dark Lantern Temple."

Dark Lantern Temple?

Lin Guichen pondered.

He suddenly recalled that Old Master Chen had mentioned the sinister god behind Old Drummer—the Drum-Yama—was a wandering spirit sent by the Dark Lantern Temple.

Furthermore, at the end of this month, there would be a temple fair at the Dark Lantern Temple, so Old Drummer and that wandering god Drum-Yama had gone to Yihai for the occasion.

So, by this logic...

That Drum-Yama might well have been dispatched by the Dark Lantern Mother herself?

"So everyone in the Sun Palace lineage of Huaidong Province worships the Dark Lantern Mother?" Lin Guichen marveled. "That's rather domineering."

"You didn't know?" Chen Linyu looked at him in surprise. "In Huaidong, the only earth deity temple for the Sun Palace line is the Dark Lantern Temple, and the only celestial deity temple is the Black Heaven Lady's Shrine."

"Celestial deity shrine, Black Heaven Lady?" Lin Guichen nodded thoughtfully, remembering the name.

He looked at Chen Linyu again. "How many spirit apertures do you have?"

She glanced at him. "Four."

"Four?" Lin Guichen asked in astonishment. "That many?"

"I was born with three, and by chance, opened a fourth last year," she replied calmly.

"Impressive," Lin Guichen feigned admiration.

But inwardly, he felt indifferent—given time, he could open nine apertures, so it hardly seemed remarkable.

"You've probably noticed I've opened some as well," Lin Guichen went on. "With two apertures, how much hope is there of dreaming of a deity by night if I worship the Dark Lantern Mother or the Black Heaven Lady?"

According to Chen Muzhi, only by worshipping a deity could one hope to dream of the deity, imprinting its image in the mind, thereby improving spiritual aptitude and perhaps opening more apertures.

To inherit Chen Muzhi's secret art, three apertures would be easy—the challenge was the requirement of 'twenty years' worth of spiritual aptitude.'

"How much hope?" Chen Linyu sized him up. "You're naturally born with two apertures, and you're only sixteen. If you worship the Dark Lantern Mother, you have about a twenty to thirty percent chance of success."

"Only the Dark Lantern Mother?" Lin Guichen asked, puzzled. "What if I worship the Black Heaven Lady?"

"Then you have no hope at all," Chen Linyu shook her head. "I've heard that to dream of a celestial deity, you need to be a genius with at least five apertures before you have even a slight chance."

"Oh?" Lin Guichen pondered. "Is there a difference between contemplating earth deities and celestial deities?"

"I don't know," Chen Linyu replied blandly. "I've only heard rumors, but I'm sure it's entirely different."

Lin Guichen's mind was racing.

Even if a five-aperture genius had only a slim chance of dreaming of a celestial deity, wouldn't six or seven apertures make it possible?

Unfortunately, the sixth would take another sixteen days to open, and only if everything went smoothly.

He wouldn't have enough time before he planned to escape.

But once he had opened enough apertures in the future, there would still be a chance to worship the celestial deity.

Of course, worshipping the Daoist Ancestor would be best.

But compared to that, with the Dark Lantern Temple and Black Heaven Lady’s Shrine right there, those options were much more accessible.

Once he’d opened six or seven apertures, he could seek an opportunity to try.

After a moment’s thought, Lin Guichen asked, “What exactly is involved in worshipping a god?”

“Nothing special. Even kneeling before the statue and offering a single stick of incense is enough,” Chen Linyu answered. “The key is talent—in other words, the number of apertures.”

“You know my situation,” Lin Guichen said, looking at her. “What do you think I should do to have a chance to worship at the Dark Lantern Temple?”