The power of the Folk Ritual Sect really opened my eyes.
A severed chicken head could actually be reattached. No matter how I thought about it, I couldn't figure out how it worked.
I even reached out to feel where the chicken's head and neck had been severed. I could clearly feel the traces of the cut, but the chicken was alive, able to run and jump.
After the thin Master scattered a handful of rice, the chickens even scrambled to peck at it.
That meant their bodily functions were normal.
No wonder some things weren't taught to outsiders. Perhaps this was what made the Meishan Ritual Arts so mysterious. According to legend, the folk Meishan Ritual Arts belonged to a special Folk Ritual School formed when the Meishan branch of Daoism incorporated local witchcraft.
It was hard to get by in the Mystic Sect these days, so anything passed down by the Patriarch was naturally precious. If too many people knew about it, it would no longer seem mysterious. After all, scarcity made things valuable.
Just then, one chicken kept circling Su Yi.
The chicken seemed to recognize Su Yi. It even kept rubbing its head against his trouser leg like a cat.
Su Yi didn't understand why. He just found it amazing.
The fat Master walked over and said, "This chicken probably holds the soul of your younger sister's child-your nephew. As long as he hasn't reincarnated, strictly speaking, he's still your nephew in this lifetime. You share a blood bond, after all, so he feels close to you."
Su Yi froze in place. Looking at the chicken at his feet, he suddenly picked it up and cradled it in his arms.
The chicken didn't struggle. Like a baby, it kept nuzzling against Su Yi.
Su Yi simply