chapter 4

I once heard my grandfather talk about a sinister medical technique called the “Five Ghosts Vein Connection.”

I never expected that the first time I would witness it with my own eyes, it would actually happen to me.

I was sealed inside the Earthen Jar for three whole days and nights-an experience that was nothing short of a nightmare!

But when the nightmare ended, the result was good.

The meridians that had been utterly destroyed by Cao Xuerong were miraculously and perfectly reconnected.

“You were born with a King of Hell Fate. Even if your injuries are healed, you won’t live long, so what are you so happy about?” Mute Granny wrote on the ground.

My heart trembled. I hadn’t expected this old lady to have insight comparable to my grandfather’s. I forced a bitter smile and said, “I’ll just live as long as I can.”

“If you don’t want to die, that’s simple. You just need to master the skills of the King of Hell,” Mute Granny wrote.

My grandfather had told me the same thing.

I was about to say that was impossible, but when I unintentionally caught sight of Mute Granny’s calm expression, my heart suddenly pounded wildly. I asked in a trembling voice, “Granny, do you know how… how to master the skills of the King of Hell?”

Mute Granny acted as if she hadn’t heard, remaining unmoved.

I was about to ask again when I saw her left index finger casually tilt, pointing toward the statue of the Empress in the temple.

A sudden inspiration struck me, and I immediately knelt before the Empress statue, kowtowing repeatedly.

After I had kowtowed over a hundred times, Mute Granny patted me on the shoulder and wrote on the ground, “The Empress has agreed to accept you as her disciple.”

I was stunned. I had thought it was Mute Granny who wanted to take me as her disciple, and that making me kneel before the Empress statue was just a test of my sincerity. Who would have thought she would say, “The Empress has accepted you as her disciple.”

Mute Granny handed me a cup of tea, signaling me to offer it in respect.

I took it in my hands and looked up, only to see the Empress statue shrouded in incense smoke, lifelike and vivid.

Suddenly, I remembered that when I first crawled into the temple, Mute Granny had said, “The fact that you managed to crawl into the temple means you are fated to be with us.”

At the time, I thought Mute Granny had misspoken. Now it seemed that perhaps there was someone else in this temple besides Mute Granny, just unwilling to show themselves?

“Master, please have some tea.”

I didn’t have time to think further and respectfully knelt to offer the tea.

Mute Granny told me to place the teacup on the incense table, then kowtow three times to the Empress statue. With that, the master-disciple ceremony was complete.

“From now on, I am your senior sister,” Mute Granny wrote on the ground.

I was stunned again. If Mute Granny was my senior sister, then how old must my Master be?

“Our branch of the lineage has always been thin in numbers. Now, it’s just the two of us left. My talent is too poor to inherit the sect’s teachings. From now on, it’s up to you,” Mute Granny continued.

I was very curious. “So what exactly is our branch of the lineage?”

“Misty Mountain Spirit Gate. We are the inheritors of the Spirit Gate.”

I was taken aback.

Among the myriad sects and schools, countless ancient lineages have appeared throughout history, only to gradually fade away over time.

Especially in modern times, the old ways have declined, and many have already lost their incense.

The only ones still relatively active today are the Feng Shui Masters and fortune-tellers.

Under my grandfather’s guidance, I had been exposed to these things since childhood, but I had never heard of the Misty Mountain Spirit Gate.

But over the centuries, so many sects have appeared-perhaps the Spirit Gate just isn’t well-known, so it’s normal that I haven’t heard of it.

“It’s not that we’re unknown, but that our Spirit Gate has always been secretive and hidden from outsiders. You need to understand this,” Mute Granny seemed to know what I was thinking.

“I see,” I said with sudden realization. “So what kind of sect does our Spirit Gate belong to?”

It couldn’t be Buddhist. Daoist, maybe, but it didn’t quite fit.

“Then tell me, what kind of sect do you think the King of Hell belongs to?” Mute Granny asked.

My heart skipped a beat.

What kind of sect could the King of Hell belong to?

Thinking of that bizarre “Five Ghosts Vein Connection” technique, I blurted out, “Is it… the Ghost Sect?”

“All things in the world have spirits. What do you think our Spirit Gate does?” Mute Granny wrote. “Once you enter the Spirit Gate, it’s as deep as the sea. You’re destined to deal with demons, monsters, and ghosts for the rest of your life. The sea of suffering is boundless-are you sure you’re ready?”

“Senior Sister, I just offered the tea. Is it too late to turn back now?” I asked.

Mute Granny glanced at me. “No.”

I had no choice but to change the subject. “Is Misty Mountain the ancestral land of our Spirit Gate? Where is it?”

“Haven’t you noticed how it gets foggy here every few days?”

I looked outside the temple-sure enough, it was foggy again.

From that day on, I lived in the Empress Temple.

Mute Granny lived in a small house beside the temple, where she cooked and slept.

I was always worried about my grandfather. Once I had mostly recovered, I wanted to go down the mountain to ask around. Mute Granny didn’t object and even prepared some food for me.

But as soon as I got halfway down the mountain, I fainted before I even reached the bottom. In the end, it was Mute Granny, who had secretly followed me, who brought me back.

“With the Empress’s protection in the temple, your King of Hell Fate can be temporarily suppressed. If you want to go out and die, that’s up to you.”

When I woke up, I got a scolding from Mute Granny.

After this incident, I settled down and stayed in the temple, studying diligently with Mute Granny day and night.

Life in the mountains was very peaceful.

Only the Heavenly Thunder that struck without fail every year on the Fifteenth of July was truly troublesome, and each year it became more and more terrifying.

In the blink of an eye, ten years passed.