Chapter Three: The Heartless Bell

The two walked side by side out of the library, sincerity striving to suppress the uneasy flutter in their hearts. Soon, very soon—once they entered the Ancestral Hall, they could subdue the malevolent spirit.

“Daoist Chengyi, are you hungry? How about we have some vegetable pancakes before we go? It won’t take much time anyway,” Chen Mu suddenly suggested.

Chengyi’s heart skipped a beat, quickly regaining composure. “Alright, let’s eat first.”

The two shifted direction toward the kitchen.

Inside, Daoist He was absentmindedly scrubbing bowls.

Chengyi had instructed that the Daoists of the temple rise earlier than usual today.

After breakfast, all were to be sent to the square before the Ancestral Hall to practice martial arts—partly to stimulate their qi and blood for self-protection, partly to block the exits to prevent the spirit's escape.

“Not sure if that evil spirit has already been suppressed,” Daoist He mused, looking up to see a pale, dark-eyed figure approaching.

His heart nearly stopped in fright.

“We’re here to eat!” Chengyi hurriedly interrupted.

Daoist He trembled but quickly prepared the meal for the two.

Chen Mu devoured his food like a wolf, swallowing two vegetable pancakes in moments, and almost pouring a bowl of porridge directly into his mouth.

When finished, his eyes fixated unblinkingly on Chengyi’s pancake.

“I’m not very hungry, you can have it,” Chengyi said with a twitch of his eyelid.

“Great!” Chen Mu happily took Chengyi’s pancake and munched heartily.

Chengyi hurriedly finished his porridge, sitting casually nearby but keeping a sharp eye on Chen Mu.

Seeing Chen Mu finish his pancake as well, Chengyi exhaled in relief.

Now it should be fine. All that remained was to lure him into the Ancestral Hall...

“Could I have another bowl of porridge? I’m choking,” Chen Mu said with a troubled expression.

“Alright!” Chengyi resisted the urge to grit his teeth and waved to Daoist He.

Daoist He sighed as he poured porridge again, watching nervously as Chen Mu gulped it down and even belched contentedly.

Letting the spirit eat and drink to his fill—how could they fight then?

But not giving him porridge risked a rampage.

Daoist He’s whole body itched nervously.

“Master Chen, shall we go now?” Chengyi asked, trying to steady his breath.

“Let's go, the sooner we start, the sooner it ends,” Chen Mu said contentedly, following Chengyi toward a towering hall.

On the small square before the hall, seven or eight Daoists wore light training clothes, energetically practicing martial arts.

Chen Mu stood by the square, watching the Daoists with interest.

Chengyi was anxious but dared not urge too much, fearing the spirit would sense something amiss.

After watching for a full quarter of an hour, Chen Mu reluctantly entered the Ancestral Hall.

Chengyi watched him go inside and finally let out a long breath.

“No matter what kind of evil spirit you are, with or without the Heartless Bell’s suppression, death is inevitable!” Chengyi regained his composure, glanced at the junior brothers vigorously practicing, and followed into the hall with ease.

---

“Master Chen, please look—the scripture is right here,” Chengyi smiled, pointing to the east wall of the Ancestral Hall.

“Unaware of the mystery’s inversion and reversal, how can one know the lotus thrives in fire? Leading the White Tiger home to nurture, producing a pearl as round as the moon...”

The entire wall was a massive stone slab, intricately carved with a profound scripture in flowing, grand characters. The text was deep and enigmatic, evoking the mystical aura of immortals and stirring the heart’s yearning.

“Beautiful script—I’ll start copying it right away,” Chen Mu said, finding a table and setting out ink, brush, and paper.

Beautiful script? What would an evil spirit know of calligraphy, trying to bluff his way?

“Master Chen, may I trouble you,” Chengyi’s smile faded, his eyelids drooping as a cold gleam flickered in his eyes.

While Chen Mu was distracted, Chengyi silently approached the offering table inside the hall.

On it rested a bronze ritual bell, tinged with verdigris, placed before the incense burner.

Chengyi bowed respectfully before quickly picking up the bell.

The bell was about a palm’s length, with a handle topped by a sharp point resembling a spearhead.

Its surface was engraved with human-face patterns, the verdigris adding an ancient, weighty charm.

Flipping it over, Chengyi saw that it lacked a clapper.

He glanced at Chen Mu, who was engrossed in copying the scripture, and sneered coldly: “Putting on a show!”

Chengyi stabbed his left palm deeply with the sharp handle, then held his bleeding hand over the bell’s mouth.

An invisible suction force emerged, and the wound gushed blood as if a faucet had been turned on, the crimson fluid flowing rapidly into the bell.

Within just five breaths, Chengyi’s face turned ghostly pale.

Inside the bell, the blood hovered and swirled, coalescing into a translucent crimson bead no larger than a peanut.

“The Heartless Bell tolls—reveal yourself at once!” Chengyi glared at Chen Mu’s back and shook the bell fiercely.

The crimson bead acted as a clapper, striking the bronze wall and scattering.

Clang!

A distant, resonant bell tone suddenly rang out.

An invisible wave radiated from the bell, rapidly spreading and being reflected repeatedly by the hall’s walls.

The sound echoed and concentrated within the hall but never spread outside.

Chen Mu shuddered and froze in place.

Ha! Let’s see what kind of spirit you really are!

Chengyi stared eagerly at Chen Mu.

“Uh...” a long burp escaped Chen Mu’s mouth.

Chengyi was speechless.

How could it have no effect?

The Heartless Bell had clearly been activated!

Could it be the power was insufficient?

Chengyi gritted his teeth, pricked his palm again, poured fresh blood into the bell, and shook it with all his might.

Clang!

The distant bell tone resounded once more.

---

Chen Mu’s figure froze again.

Chengyi clenched his left fist hard.

It worked!

“Daoist, keep ringing it, this bell sounds quite pleasant,” Chen Mu said, turning stiffly.

Chengyi was speechless.

“Don’t you feel anything odd?” Chengyi cautiously asked.

Chen Mu frowned thoughtfully. “Just a bit of bloating in my stomach.”

Chengyi was at a loss.

“Keep ringing it—the bell’s tone suits the scripture nicely,” Chen Mu smiled, scratching his head.

Heh... keep ringing? You must want me dead!

Chengyi brought the bell closer to Chen Mu, peering at the copied text.

The structure was balanced, the handwriting elegant—basically consistent with the first sample Chen Mu had shown, perhaps even more refined, with a touch of ethereal charm.

Could I have been mistaken?

Had the evil spirit been scared off by the Heartless Bell last night?

The Heartless Bell was a sacred heirloom of Qingfeng Temple, said to originate from ancient pure yang Daoism, specializing in subduing ghosts and evil spirits.

That Chen Mu showed no reaction to the bell meant his spirit and flesh were united—he was not possessed by any evil spirit.

At this realization, Chengyi felt dizzy and faint.

The Heartless Bell was powerful in soul-capturing and exorcising evil but also consumed great amounts of blood to operate.

Chengyi, a robust man with strong qi and blood from years of practice, had turned pale after just activating it twice.

The key point was it had no effect—it was as if he was expending energy on empty air.

The more he thought, the more unsteady he felt.

He couldn’t go on—he needed medicine fast.

Putting the Heartless Bell down, Chengyi awkwardly left the Ancestral Hall, fearing he might faint there.

Watching Chengyi hurry away, Chen Mu couldn’t help but smirk.

It was just ringing the bell twice—why the rush?

That bell did sound pretty pleasant.

He looked up at the translucent gray wall before him.

Text appeared: 135/10000/Level Two;

Why did this pop up like a notification?

Hmm, gained experience again.

Well, whatever—better get back to copying the scripture.