Chapter 8

Chapter 8: The Old Daoist Priest’s Instructions

Gu Shi Yi lifted a second finger.

“Don’t be afraid. There’s a second way… find a corpse and use the corpse-borrowing soul-return technique. But a body like that won’t be easy to come by. It has to be newly dead—within the first seven days. Its birth chart and constitution must match yours. It can’t have resentment clinging to it when it died. And for the first few years, you’ll probably be very weak… but that’s all small stuff. As long as you’re willing to practice Daoist mind methods and body arts, you’ll slowly get better…”

The clay doll copied her and sat cross-legged on the tabletop, basking in the wash of moonlight. With her chin propped in her hands, she fell into thought.

“The first way sounds extremely dangerous. I’m not afraid of suffering, but… if my temperament changes in the end, and I hurt you—and hurt innocent people, too… If we can take the second way, of course that’s best.”

She’d heard Gu Shi Yi talk about their master-and-apprentice days, traveling around and slaying demons and devils. Truthfully, a lot of demons and devils weren’t born bad. Most were corrupted by inner devils while cultivating, or tempted by a devil-path broker—eager to raise their realm fast and grab quick gains—until they walked straight into evil.

Gu Shi Yi nodded. “That’s what I think too. When Master comes back, I’ll beg him to take us down the mountain to find a corpse that suits you. Don’t worry… People in this world might not be as many as in yours, but a corpse with a matching birth chart should still exist somewhere. Worst case, we spend more time.”

After a beat, she added, “And if it truly doesn’t work, you can switch to the ghost path. Master came from the dao sect—he should have a way to lessen your suffering.”

Then Gu Shi Yi’s tone sharpened. “But right now, you need to stabilize your soul. I’ll teach you a breathing method first. Learn to draw in the moon’s power to strengthen your soul body. Otherwise… with your current condition, if you get roasted under the sun, you’ll scatter in less than ten minutes. No reincarnation. Ever.”

The clay doll nodded and did exactly as Gu Shi Yi did—legs crossed, face tilted up to the moon. She recited the formula in her heart and breathed in and out in a steady rhythm. The two best friends stayed in the courtyard until midnight. In the second half of the night, Gu Shi Yi went into the hall to sleep, while Li Yan Er remained at the doorway, staring at the moon in a daze.

Moonlight spilled over her body. She lowered her head and stared at the black mud that formed her hands, her feet, her torso, and let out a long, exhausted sigh.

The past two days felt like a dream.

People always talked about life’s twists and turns, but surely no one had flipped like she had.

The first half of her life—trapped in that kind of family—was already miserable. She never expected the second half to become even stranger: three years as a resentful ghost imprisoned in a fishpond, and then, somehow, she crossed into this world… only to become a lump of mud without even a real body. She was so fragile now that someone could crush her with a squeeze. At any moment, her soul could scatter.

“Ugh…”

Li Yan Er sighed again.

“Since I’m already here, what else can I do? Of course I have to fight to stay alive.”

She hadn’t even lived thirty years in that world. She’d finished college. Her work was finally starting to go somewhere. If her family hadn’t tricked her into going back, several senior women at the company were already trying to set her up with boyfriends. She could’ve escaped the tragedy waiting behind her. If she had anyone to blame, it was herself—soft-hearted to the bitter end.

And dying like that… suffocating, humiliating… she couldn’t accept it.

Now Shi Yi had clawed out this sliver of life for her. She couldn’t waste her best friend’s sacrifice.

Li Yan Er took a long breath, moved a couple steps forward, and sat down with her legs crossed. She replayed Shi Yi’s method in her mind and began to breathe in and out with real focus.

The old Daoist priest returned at noon the next day, swinging a hand with two jin of beef and carrying two jugs of wine like trophies.

“You damned maidservant! Hurry and set the table. This Daoist Master wants to drink and eat meat!”

Seeing him back to his usual grinning, shameless, street-rascal self, Gu Shi Yi practically lit up.

“Looks like Widow Zhang cures depression like magic. Truly—miracle hands… bringing spring back to life!”

Of course… there was no way it had been cured with just his hands.

Still, if the old Daoist priest was happy, Gu Shi Yi was happy. She brought out bowls and chopsticks. Master and apprentice sat down to drink, and they drank until night fell. The old Daoist priest got drunk again. Gu Shi Yi hauled him into the hall and settled him down. Only after Master was snoring did she let the clay doll out.

“Yan Er, keep practicing the method I taught you yesterday. This is the kind of skill you build day by day—don’t slack off for even one day.”

The clay doll nodded, scampered on her little clay legs to the hall entrance, and sat down to practice. Gu Shi Yi returned to her own bedding, circulated her breath through thirty-six cycles, and only then fell asleep.

Nothing happened that night.

The next morning, the old Daoist priest called Gu Shi Yi and Li Yan Er before him, his face unexpectedly severe.

“Apprentice! Your master has something important to say today…”

Gu Shi Yi’s heart jolted. She sat up straighter, lifted her chin, and answered loudly, “Master—Apprentice caused trouble. If you want to hit me or punish me, go ahead!”

The old Daoist priest shook his head. “This is my fate. Back then, your Martial Grand-Uncle warned me long ago. It’s just that for all these years, greed blinded me, and I never saw through it…”

A shadow passed through his eyes. Then he forced his tone brisk again. “You. Go under the offering table and take out what’s in the clay jar.”

Gu Shi Yi froze. “Master, are we going down the mountain?”

“Hurry!”

Gu Shi Yi crawled under the offering table and dragged out a huge bundle—everything they owned in the world. The old Daoist priest snatched it, loosened the knot, and spread it open. Inside was a mess of odds and ends: his Daoist robe, a peachwood sword and other ghost-hunting gear, and a small box. When the lid flipped up, silver notes and bits of loose silver glinted inside.

Gu Shi Yi blinked, startled. “Master… why is there only this much left?”

The old Daoist priest was famous for hoarding money. He always called that box his coffin fund and never let her touch it. Yet now, more than half of it was gone.

He said flatly, “Yesterday I sent some to Widow Zhang. She’s been with me for years, after all. She’s got a whole household—children and grandchildren, mouths to feed, things to buy. Those daughters-in-law are all sharp. If she has a little gold and silver to lean on, she won’t end up old and helpless with no one willing to serve her.”

Money was only something outside the body. Gu Shi Yi had always been carefree about it. Hearing that, she nodded without much fuss.

“True. She’s followed you for so long, and she was sincere to you. If I were Master, I’d have gone down the mountain and married her ages ago—then you wouldn’t have been chased up the mountain and beaten!”

By then, the old Daoist priest would be stepfather to those strong sons. Let’s see them dare raise a hand.

The old Daoist priest rolled his eyes. “If I hadn’t been doing it for the treasure mirror…”

He cut himself off like he’d hit a sore spot. His chest tightened. He covered it and coughed a few times, then snapped back to business.

“Keep everything here safe. Use these ritual tools if you can. If you can’t, keep them as a memento. Hide the silver well. When you walk the mortal world, without this you’ll be drinking the northwest wind!”

Thankfully, Shi Yi’s ghost-hunting skill was better than his anyway. At least she wouldn’t starve.

Gu Shi Yi, missing the oddness completely, grinned. “Don’t we still have you, Master? Go catch a few little ghosts and we’ll have everything!”

“No need to butter me up,” the old Daoist priest said. “Your dao arts are purer than mine now. Most of that silver was earned by you. Take it.”

Off to the side, Li Yan Er sensed something wrong. She glanced at Gu Shi Yi—still smiling like an idiot—then at the old Daoist priest. The old man narrowed his eyes, saw everything, and let out a quiet sigh.

Then he asked, “Do you still remember where your hometown is?”

Gu Shi Yi had been clever since childhood. Though she’d left home at five, she still remembered enough. She thought for a moment. “I remember it was in Chen Prefecture, north of Great Western Province…”

The old Daoist priest nodded. “You’ve been away for so many years. When you have the chance, go back and take a look.”

Gu Shi Yi’s mouth twisted. Something finally started to itch at her. “Old Daoist Priest—what do you mean? Why are you telling me to go back?”

“Because we don’t need to hide anymore,” he said. “You were a legitimate young lady from a great family. You’ve followed me all these years, roughing it outside—you’ve suffered enough. It’s time you went back and looked.”

Gu Shi Yi bit her lip. If she said she didn’t want to go back, she’d be lying. But if she went back and became the eldest young lady again… she knew she probably wouldn’t be able to return to this life.

After a long moment, she still said, “Fine. We’ll go back and take a look. If they still acknowledge me, I’ll return. I’ll have them build a courtyard for you, Master. We won’t wander outside anymore. From then on, I’ll support you in your old age.”

She spoke bravely, but she understood reality too. Back then, a clan elder had doubted her bloodline because her mother had eloped, and even suggested expelling her from the family. Now she’d been gone over twenty years—who would still be willing to recognize her?

A great family’s legitimate eldest daughter had inheritance rights. She could take a live-in husband, and the child she bore would be a proper heir of the main branch, someone who could inherit the family estate. If she returned now, she’d be walking straight into a fight over power.

And in a great family’s power struggles, people clawed and bit until someone bled out. Why would they let an unwanted daughter come back and take a share?

The old Daoist priest knew all of that. He simply didn’t say it aloud. He only grinned.

“That would be good, of course.”

Then his expression tightened. “And also… that Mystic Profundity Bright Mirror.”

Now they were finally on the real matter.

Gu Shi Yi straightened her back. “Master. Tell me.”

The old Daoist priest rubbed at his chest, as if weighing each word. “You used the treasure mirror once, and it leaked the heavenly secrets I was covering. We probably can’t stay here anymore. Pack up. Leave in three days.”

Seeing her stare, he repeated it, harsh and clear. “Remember—three days. If you’re slow and someone follows the trail here, your life will be in danger.”

A treasure like that in the hands of this master and apprentice was already a blessing from heaven. But if you had weak skills and a treasure on your back, and you still didn’t know to hide… you might as well be begging for death.

The old Daoist priest continued, “This treasure isn’t something we can keep. Your shallow cultivation can’t protect it. Go to the Huang Capital first. Find Zhang Zhen Yue. Use this thing to ask Zhang Zhen Yue for protection. Then return to Chen Prefecture. Even if the sky is high and the emperor is far away, and Zhang Zhen Yue’s name doesn’t fully shield you, the Gu family will look at you differently and won’t dare bully you too much. After that… find yourself a husband you like and marry out.”

He kept saying “you”—never “we.” Gu Shi Yi didn’t catch it.

Li Yan Er did.

The old man’s eyes slid to her. He gave her a faint smile, then looked back to Gu Shi Yi.

“This thing is a relic left by an ancient immortal. Even my master back then—vastly learned, dao arts profound—couldn’t figure out even a tenth of what it can do. It’s a treasure and a disaster. Without the strength to hold it, getting it is calamity. Don’t cling to it.”

Gu Shi Yi shook her head hard. “Master, don’t worry. Apprentice never dared to covet it. If Master can let it go, then I can let it go.”

To her, the treasure mirror was simply an object she’d carried for years. For over twenty years, she’d meditated over it every night and hidden because of it, running and dodging again and again. If it hadn’t brought her to Yan Er—and if it hadn’t become so useful—she would’ve long since gotten sick of serving it.

The old Daoist priest’s expression softened. He lifted a hand and patted Gu Shi Yi’s head.

“Good child. You’ve suffered all these years.”

Gu Shi Yi grinned, honest and a little stupid. “Master, Apprentice hasn’t suffered.”

Aside from being filthy, smelling awful, snoring like thunder, being shamelessly lecherous, and having basically no moral bottom line, Master treated her well. He didn’t beat her or scold her. If there was good food, they ate together. If there was wine, they drank together. And every time they had to run, he remembered to drag her along.

That kind of life was, in its own way, free.

The old Daoist priest flicked her forehead. “Don’t be stupid. You’re impulsive and quick-tempered, and you don’t have a daughter’s carefulness. After you go down the mountain, keep your wits about you.”

This time, Gu Shi Yi finally heard the wrongness in his tone. She sat up straighter, eyes wide.

“Old Daoist Priest… what’s with you today? Why do you sound like you’re leaving last words?”

The old Daoist priest flew into a rage and kicked her.

“I’m not dying anytime soon, damn it! Get lost! I want to sleep!”

Gu Shi Yi toppled with the kick, rolled a whole zhang, and popped right back up grinning like nothing happened. She scooped up the clay doll.

“Yan Er, come on. I’ll take you into the mountains to look around… and meet that old tree spirit!”

The old Daoist priest lay on the bed facing the wall, one hand tucked under his head. Without turning, he snorted. “Don’t go provoking spirit creatures in the mountains. That old tree spirit isn’t a good thing.”

Gu Shi Yi laughed. “You don’t need to tell me. I know.”

Anything that could live a thousand years in the mountains had become a spirit. It wouldn’t be easy to deal with. Like people, spirits came with tempers baked into their bones. That old tree spirit was twisted, domineering to the core. Around the peak where it lived, there were already no flowers, no grass, no trees within ten zhang. If it grew stronger, it would drain the spiritual energy from the entire mountain until nothing could survive.