Chapter 53: Newcomers and Veterans Are Very Different

The next morning.

Fatty’s corpse had long been brought back to the Qin family’s main hall.

He had even been thoughtfully dressed, no longer exposed.

A middle-aged man with half-gray hair stared at the corpse on the ground, his face filled with sorrow.

“Who did this?”

The gatekeeper shook his head violently: “Master, I didn’t see anything.”

The middle-aged man kicked the gatekeeper hard.

The gatekeeper flew backward several meters and crashed into the wall; ignoring the blood spurting from his mouth, he scrambled up and banged his head on the floor—thud, thud—“Master, spare my life! Please spare my life!”

“Get out!”

The gatekeeper crawled away in panic.

Another middle-aged man standing nearby, named Qin Wu, said: “Big brother, I’ve examined Lang’s wounds—both strikes were direct thrusts to the kidneys. As far as I know, no sect in our southern region uses such techniques. Even in ambushes, they target the heart or slit the throat; I’ve never seen or heard of someone specifically stabbing the kidneys.”

The head of the Qin household was Qin Feng, a rugged man with a long beard, known as the “Bearded Beauty of Rongxian.”

His voice sounded weak: “Could the killer be deliberately concealing his technique’s origin?”

“Possible,” Qin Wu agreed. “But Lang’s wounds were narrow, clean, and precise—no extra damage. Only a specialized weapon and unique force manipulation could cause this. The killer is highly skilled in this method—so the killer…”

At that moment, a servant burst in through the door, covered in blood, his face terrifyingly pale.

Both men turned and their expressions changed instantly.

The servant clutched his kidneys—his lower body was soaked in blood, his pants black with it.

Every step he took left a fresh bloodprint behind.

“What happened!” Qin Feng strode forward and blocked the servant’s path: “You’re Tian’s attendant… how did you end up like this?”

The servant had only a breath left; the fact he’d made it here bleeding was a miracle.

“Young Master… went after the killer…” The servant’s voice grew fainter.

At once, Qin Wu pressed his palm against the servant’s back and sent a thread of Nascent Soul energy into him.

A flicker of life returned to the servant’s eyes; he gasped out: “At Waterlogged Alley… the end… a black-clothed man… stabbed someone… Young Master and we all…”

He convulsed, then fell silent.

“Tian!”

Qin Feng’s eyes were bloodshot, his face dark as storm clouds, his hands trembling.

“Second brother, stay here and guard the house—I fear this is an enemy’s diversion.” Qin Feng forced down his grief: “I’m going to check.”

Qin Wu’s face was equally filled with sorrow: “Alright. I’ll stay. No one will stir trouble here.”

Qin Feng turned and hurried away.

After everyone left, Qin Wu’s expression shifted from grief to something almost pleased; he rubbed his face and muttered: “No, no, can’t let myself think like that.”

Then he studied the servant’s wounds. After a moment, he shook his head: “Brutal. Not instantly fatal, but enough to paralyze resistance and inflict unbearable pain. This killing technique borders on torture. When did someone so ruthless appear in our southern frontier?”

At this moment, Li Lin, dressed in ordinary clothes, crouched hidden atop a tree.

Though far from the crime scene, his elevated position gave him a crystal-clear view.

He watched the middle-aged man clutch the corpse and wail, then rage around, punching and kicking several of his own retainers.

He watched the man scream helplessly: “Monster! Show yourself! The Qin family will fight you to the death!”

“Hmm. This must be the head, Qin Feng.” Li Lin nodded slightly, memorized his face, then flipped down from the tree and left the area.

He arrived at a small stall on West Street and ordered tofu pudding.

Sweet… delicious.

Across from him, a man ate spicy tofu pudding drenched in red oil.

They exchanged glances, then looked at each other’s bowls, both snorted in mutual disdain.

After finishing his tofu pudding, Li Lin began searching. Soon he found a shop with a sign reading “Fang’s Paper Spirit Shop.”

This must be it.

Li Lin entered. Inside stood many paper effigies—paper horses, spirit money—and the air carried a strange sandalwood incense.

The mingled scents of all these objects were peculiar.

“Is the shopkeeper here?” Li Lin called.

“Here!”

Soon a middle-aged man with a thin mustache shaped like a Bazi emerged. His eyes were small, his frame lean.

His attire was unusual.

He wore a red Buddhist Pilu hat, a black Daoist robe, and wooden clogs shaped like the character Ren —utterly contradictory.

But Li Lin knew such a man was a local southern frontier “shaman”—formally called a Dao Gong.

He officiated at both funerals and weddings.

The shopkeeper stepped out, saw Li Lin, and paused in surprise: “Guest… you’re no ordinary man.”

His eyes held a fox-like cunning.

Li Lin bowed and smiled: “The Tree Immortal Lady sent me.”

At this, the shopkeeper’s eyes widened. His expression shifted to delight, then nostalgia, and finally, the cunning vanished from his gaze.

“Is the Lady well?”

“Probably fine. She just doesn’t talk much.”

“Hah. She’s always been like that.” The shopkeeper invited Li Lin to sit. “What did the Lady send you for?”

“I want to learn talisman arts. She recommended you.” Li Lin studied the man. “You were once a Spirit Hunter, weren’t you?”

“Yes!” The shopkeeper sighed. “Talisman arts—I shouldn’t teach you, but since the Lady sent you, it’s fine. You’re the Patrol Hunter of Shangtikou Village, right?”

“Yes.”

“Twenty years ago, so was I.”

Li Lin was surprised: “Aren’t you from Rongxian? How did you become a Patrol Hunter in Yulin County?”

“There are many Spirit Hunters here,” the shopkeeper said with a strange expression. “So I had to leave to make a living. Later, I ran into some things… never mind the past. Wait a moment—I’ll get you what you need.”

The shopkeeper turned and went inside, returning shortly.

In his hand was a yellowed, hand-copied book: “This is the talisman art the Lady mentioned.”

Li Lin took it. On the cover were four large characters: “Dao Gong’s Detailed Notes.”

Dao Gong?

“This is the Dao Gong’s legacy. Though the content is messy and disorganized, it does contain the basics of talisman arts. My talent is limited—I only learned the minor craft of paper horses. The true path of talisman arts was beyond me.” The shopkeeper’s eyes held envy. “But since the Lady sent you, you must have the aptitude.”

Li Lin took the book and asked: “How much silver?”

“Whatever you like. It’s a copy—I kept one for myself.”

Li Lin handed over a hundred-silver-tael note.

The shopkeeper didn’t look at the amount—he slipped it into his sleeve and muttered: “I’m actually worried about the Lady. She doesn’t consume blood-qi… I wonder how long she can hold on. I should go visit her soon.”

Doesn’t consume blood-qi?

“She eats,” Li Lin said instinctively.

“Eats?” The shopkeeper froze. “Whose?”

Li Lin said nothing.

The shopkeeper stared at Li Lin’s handsome face for a moment, then suddenly erupted: “Get out! Get out of here!”

Li Lin instinctively stepped back.

The shop door slammed shut with a crash.

From inside came the faint sound of weeping.

“Lady… my Lady…”

(End of Chapter)