A Lamp

"You want to go to the Dark Lantern Temple?"

Upon hearing this, Chen Linyu couldn’t help but furrow her brows. She said, “There is indeed a Dark Lantern Temple and a Shrine of the Lady of Darkness in the county, but Grandfather clearly doesn’t want you to leave the ancestral home. He’s instructed me several times to keep a close eye on you; how could he possibly allow you to leave?”

“Anything is possible,” Lin Guichen replied softly, his gaze fixed on her. “But tell me first—why is your grandfather so insistent that you and I have a ghost marriage?”

Chen Linyu was taken aback for a moment before answering, “Because, after I died, my soul couldn’t pass on, nor could I reincarnate. My spirit was unstable, so...”

“Do you really believe that’s the reason?” Lin Guichen interrupted her. “If it was just that, wouldn’t matching a dead man with a dead woman be enough? Why couldn’t he just find you a deceased spouse for a ghost wedding?”

He saw Chen Linyu fall silent, then continued slowly, “Maybe you don’t know this, but I killed a member of the Chen clan’s inner circle. Your grandfather broke family rules to keep me alive. Do you really think his motives are that simple?”

Chen Linyu frowned. “But Grandfather has always treated me well. He wouldn’t hurt me. He’s been very caring these past few years…”

“These past few years?” Lin Guichen caught the key phrase. “What about before?”

“In the past…” Chen Linyu hesitated, then said, “Before, Grandfather treated me no differently than my other cousins. He didn’t dote on me at all…”

Her voice trailed off, growing quieter.

“When did your grandfather start favoring you?” Lin Guichen pressed.

“Around five years ago, also in February. I remember Grandfather’s attitude changed at the end of that month…” Chen Linyu recalled.

“You remember that clearly?” Lin Guichen raised an eyebrow.

Chen Linyu paused, then said, “Because every year at the end of February is the Dark Lantern Temple’s festival. After the temple was built in Kangle County, the county would naturally hold a small festival, too.”

She hesitated before continuing, “Back then, I went to the temple with the elders to pray and offer incense. That very night, I dreamt of the Lady of Darkness. Later, when we asked the ancestral spirits to check through my bloodline, they found I was born with three spirit apertures—a Yin inside and a Yang outside.”

Lin Guichen understood and asked, “How did your grandfather react?”

“…He was overjoyed,” Chen Linyu replied after a pause. “He said I was a prodigy, the hope of the Chen family. From that day on, he doted on me immensely. He also said that having Yin inside and Yang outside meant a short life, especially since my mother died early. Not long after, he took me to recognize a godmother.”

“A godmother?” Lin Guichen was puzzled.

Chen Linyu nodded. “It was a huge, old bronze cauldron.”

“What do you mean?” Lin Guichen was confused.

“That cauldron is my godmother,” Chen Linyu said. “It sits right in front of the Dark Lantern Temple in the county.”

“A cauldron? Your godmother?” Lin Guichen was bewildered.

Chen Linyu nodded slightly. “Grandfather said the cauldron itself symbolizes the balance of Yin and Yang. It’s been there for ages. If I acknowledged it as my godmother, it would bless me with a long life.”

Lin Guichen was astonished.

Was this some sort of spiritual comfort or ritual?

But in this world, where everything seemed off-kilter, even such seemingly absurd acts might have meaning.

“But you still died of illness at twenty. It didn’t work, did it?” Lin Guichen shook his head slightly.

“Well…” Chen Linyu hesitated. “Actually, I didn’t die of illness. I was cursed by one of Grandfather’s enemies. Grandfather never imagined someone would stoop so low as to kill me early, snuffing out the threat I posed.”

“An enemy?” Lin Guichen asked. “Was it that old drum-beater?”

“I don’t know,” Chen Linyu replied. “Grandfather said that if I knew who did it, my vengeful spirit might go after them. So he kept it from me.”

Lin Guichen gave a dry, amused laugh.

He studied Chen Linyu, then shook his head. “It sounds reasonable, but you’ve never even met your grandfather’s enemy. You believe it just because he told you?”

He didn’t know the truth of the situation, but if he wanted to drive a wedge between Chen Linyu and Old Master Chen, he had to raise all possible doubts.

Only by planting suspicion could he weaken her trust in Old Master Chen.

“What are you getting at?” Chen Linyu frowned. “He’s my grandfather. He wouldn’t hurt me, and everything does make sense.”

“Does it?” Lin Guichen shook his head. “I don’t think it’s that simple.”

He folded his arms, watching her. “I’m an outsider—I don’t know your family’s affairs. But you should know better than anyone. Think carefully: is there really nothing odd going on?”

Chen Linyu fell silent.

After a long moment, her expression flickered as if she’d remembered something.

“What’s wrong?” Lin Guichen noticed the subtle change in her demeanor.

Chen Linyu fell silent again before finally speaking. “You don’t know my family’s affairs—why are you so suspicious of Grandfather’s motives?”

“I admit I don’t know much,” Lin Guichen said. “But I met your father. He truly cares for you. He told me himself: he’s afraid your grandfather wants to harm you.”

“Chen Muzhi?” Chen Linyu’s face turned cold, her tone mocking. “He cares about me?”

“You don’t believe it?” Lin Guichen asked.

In the past few days, he’d heard from Chen Linyu herself: she resented her father, Chen Muzhi, because he joined the army, neglected the family, and indirectly led to her mother’s early death.

Truth be told, she was a withdrawn child starved of paternal affection.

“Why should I believe him?” Chen Linyu laughed coldly. “Chen Muzhi—the man who abandoned his wife and daughter, obsessed with ambition, utterly irresponsible. All these years, he’s barely visited, let alone raised or taught me. But let’s not dwell on that.”

“But when my mother died, before her seven-day mourning was even over, one letter sent him running, abandoning both the funeral and me. He was gone for over half a year. I didn’t even ask him to stay through the mourning period—just until the burial. Was that too much?”

She stared at Lin Guichen. “Do you really think a man like that cares about his daughter? It’s laughable.”

Lin Guichen looked at her.

Suddenly, faint, ghostly flames flickered around Chen Linyu.

She shuddered and frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing. Just helping you calm down,” Lin Guichen replied coolly. “Every time you mention your father, your resentment flares. You don’t want to become a vengeful ghost, do you?”

Chen Linyu had grown accustomed to the spiritual flames—she even found them somewhat soothing now, so she didn’t protest.

She bit her lip. “Am I not justified in feeling resentment toward him?”

“I don’t know what’s in his heart,” Lin Guichen said, “but I can see clearly…there’s a misunderstanding between you two.”

He looked at her. “Do you know why I’m sure your father truly cares about you?”

“Hm?” Chen Linyu frowned at him.

Without further explanation, Lin Guichen glanced at the teapot on the table. “Watch closely.”

He casually swept his right hand over the teapot.

In the blink of an eye, the palm-sized teapot vanished from the table.

He lifted his right hand—empty. Then, as if he’d never moved, he raised his left hand: the teapot sat firmly in his left palm.

“What…” Chen Linyu stared in disbelief.

“This is your family’s famed ‘Phantom Hand’ technique,” Lin Guichen said calmly. “What I used just now was the ‘Shadowless Hand.’”

He deftly let the teapot roll across his nimble fingertips; not a drop spilled from within. When he stopped, the lid had disappeared.

He extended his right hand—the lid now rested in his palm.

“The sleight of hand I used to distract you is called ‘Mist Flower Hand.’ You recognize it, don’t you?”

He set the teapot down, shot her a glance, and poured himself a cup of tea.

“The Ghost Hand… How could you possibly know it?” Chen Linyu murmured.

Lin Guichen didn’t answer. He picked up a peanut, flicked it across the room—three meters away, it struck the wall dead-on. He repeated the motion three more times; each peanut hit the exact same spot.

“You…” Chen Linyu stared, stunned. “You’re only sixteen, and you’ve hardly left home… Did Chen Muzhi really teach you both the Phantom Hand and his marksmanship?”

She’d heard that Chen Muzhi’s extraordinary skill with firearms earned him the recognition of powerful warlords.

And Lin Guichen’s display—flicking peanuts with such precision—clearly combined the two arts.

Besides, Lin Guichen had already told her he possessed two spirit apertures.

“Yes, it was Chen Muzhi who taught me,” Lin Guichen said. “He feared your grandfather would harm you. Your cousins were all under your grandfather’s watch, but as your betrothed, I was overlooked. Your grandfather didn’t know I’d awakened my spirit apertures. In a crisis, I could save you…”

He took a sip of tea. “That’s why your father passed these arts on to me.”

“But… how could he…” Chen Linyu was completely dazed, her mind reeling. “He taught both arts to an outsider? The price… How could he…”

At that moment, the image of her cold, unfeeling father—one she’d clung to for years—began to shatter.

She couldn’t accept it, couldn’t comprehend it.

Panic unsettled her heart, leaving her nearly incoherent.

“Is the price so steep?” Lin Guichen asked, glancing at her.

Chen Linyu, flustered, said, “Don’t you know? The more spirit apertures one has, the less the spirit pays to pass on an art. But to pass it to an outsider—even one with five apertures—costs as much as passing it to a child with only one. And you only have two. To pass both arts to you—the cost for the spirit is immense. For a spirit, this is life itself… Why would he…”

Lin Guichen finally understood.

“Why?” He looked Chen Linyu up and down, shaking his head. “Isn’t it obvious? Because you’re his only daughter.”

Chen Linyu trembled, biting her lower lip, falling completely silent.

“I don’t know your family’s full story,” Lin Guichen said quietly. “But even I, an outsider, can see your grandfather’s motives are suspect—he’s hiding something. Meanwhile, your father feared for your safety and paid any price to pass his skills to me. Isn’t it clear now?”

Chen Linyu closed her eyes.

Candlelight flickered, casting shattered glints where it caught on the tears at the corner of her eye.

…

After a time.

“I’ll help you.”

Chen Linyu looked at Lin Guichen and spoke softly, “If you want to leave the Chen ancestral home and go to the Dark Lantern Temple to pray, there is a way.”

“Oh?” Lin Guichen’s eyes brightened.

He understood that from this moment, Chen Linyu truly opened her heart to him—a willingness to help from deep within.

“Among the high-ranking people of Kangle County, there’s a tradition,” Chen Linyu said. “If you donate enough money and offerings to the Dark Lantern Temple, the temple’s priest will present a talisman imbued with the Lady of Darkness’s will. While the talisman lasts, no one from the temple’s line would dare harm its bearer.”

She looked at him. “If you can use this as a reason to have Grandfather donate on your behalf, you’ll be able to go to the temple.”

“Donations and offerings?” Lin Guichen mused.

After pondering a while, he asked, “Why are there so many malevolent spirits and wandering ghosts around your ancestral home? Do you know the reason?”

Chen Linyu frowned slightly. “I’m not sure. But I heard Grandfather mention it once.”

She thought for a moment. “He said it was because of a lamp.”

“A lamp?” Lin Guichen was puzzled.

“Yes. Because of that lamp, the wandering ghosts and malevolent spirits gather around the Chen ancestral home. At first, our ancestors tried to drive them out. Later, they realized that as long as the lamp remained, the spirits would keep coming.”

A lamp that attracts spirits?

Lin Guichen’s curiosity deepened, sensing there was an opportunity here.

“Wandering spirits are territorial. Once their numbers in the ancestral home reach a certain threshold, they stabilize—only occasionally replaced,” Chen Linyu explained. “So, the ancestor spirits made a pact with them: anyone under the protection of the ancestors cannot be harmed by the spirits. That’s how things are now.”

Lin Guichen suddenly understood.

So the Chen ancestral home was like animal territories in the wild, with weaker spirits occasionally replaced, causing the roster of ghosts to change.

“I’ve got it!” Lin Guichen’s lips curled into a smile. He looked at Chen Linyu. “I have a good idea, but I’ll need your help.”

Chen Linyu was quiet for a moment, then nodded. “Tell me.”

Lin Guichen grinned. “It’s simple.”