Chapter 13 — The Talisman Painter Who Guards the Village

Outer Sect Rules

The bronze bell rang every morning before the sky was fully clear, waking the entire outer-sect housing area and calling the disciples to the large yard for attendance and physical exercises before their formal lessons. It took Diệp Sương nearly half a month to get used to this strict lifestyle - completely different from the free, leisurely life in Tùng Lĩnh Village, where she could wake up a few minutes late without anyone blaming her much.

"Outer sect disciples have thirty-six rules that must be memorized in the first month," Chung Nhã Trúc explained, during an evening she dedicated to tutoring Diệp Sương and several other new disciples who were having difficulty adapting. "From the schedule of activities, the way to address the superiors, to the rules for using talismanic materials - each thing has its own reason, it's not just to make things difficult for you."

"Why so strict?" another disciple asked, his voice somewhat resentful.

"Because spirit talismans are not games," Chung Nhã Trúc replied, her voice becoming more serious. "A poorly drawn talisman, used in the wrong place, at the wrong time, can do more harm than no talisman at all. Rules exist to minimize those fatal mistakes, especially with new, inexperienced disciples." Diệp Sương nodded, recalling the story Mr. Tuất had told about a large town being destroyed and the price of being "three days late." She understood, even though she sometimes felt suffocated by the detailed rules down to every centimeter of a drawing, that it all came from one thing: human life.

In addition to the spell-drawing class, the outer-sect disciples also had to undergo an hour of physical training every morning - running around the large yard, practicing warm-up exercises to keep their hands steady when holding a pen in an emergency, and studying a special subject called "stilling the mind," in which each disciple sat motionless for several hours, focusing on regulating their breathing until their mind completely calmed.

"Why do you need to learn how to sit still?" Diệp Sương once asked during a practice session, her legs were numb from sitting for too long.

"Because you've experienced it yourself," the instructor in charge of this subject, a small old woman with sharp eyes, replied without hesitation. "You cast a life-saving spell that night in the middle of a panic attack, right? Do you remember feeling exhausted afterward?"

"I remember."

"That's because your mind at that time was not calm, the power flowed out uncontrollably, the loss was many times greater than a talisman drawn in a state of complete calm. Learning how to keep your mind calm in the midst of danger, you will save energy, draw more talismans, and save more people in the same period of time."

That explanation made Diệp Sương understand more deeply the value of these seemingly dry and meaningless hours of practice. She began to practice calming her mind diligently every night before going to sleep, although at first it lasted only a few moments before her thoughts wandered back to familiar faces in distant Tùng Lĩnh Village.

*

The third practice session of making spirit ink went much more smoothly than the previous two. Diệp Sương was now familiar with the correct proportions, although she still occasionally experimented in secret by adding a pinch of ash or a few drops of tree sap from her luggage to the official spirit ink when no one was looking.

"What are you doing?" Nhiêu Bá Tường's voice rang out behind her, startling Diệp Sương and almost making her spill the bowl of ink.

"I... I'm just testing," she replied, trying to hide her worry.

Nhiêu Bá Tường picked up the ink bowl, smelled it, and frowned. "This is not the standard recipe. What do you add to this?"

"A little kitchen ash and tree sap," Diệp Sương admitted, mentally preparing to receive the reprimand. "I just wanted to see how different the results would be."

He was silent for a moment, his sharp eyes carefully observing the strange mixture in the bowl, then handed the white paper to her. "Let's try drawing."

Diệp Sương was surprised by that unexpected reaction, but still picked up a pen and drew a simple talisman. The ink strokes were as smooth as those made with official ink, yet carried a warmer, more intimate nuance - the result of blending two completely different traditions.

Nhiêu Bá Tường picked up the talisman and looked at it for a long time, his face was unpredictable. "This is not according to any formula I have ever learned," he said finally, his voice somewhat annoyed but also mixed with a bit of undisguised curiosity. "I do not encourage you to continue to experiment haphazardly like this during official lessons. Rules exist to ensure that all students meet minimum standards, not to give you freedom to be creative as you like."

"I'm sorry," Diệp Sương bowed her head.

"But," he added, his voice softening a bit, "if you want to continue experimenting, do it during self-study time, not regular class time. I won't completely ban it — I just need to see you master the standard foundation first, before you start to deviate from it."

It wasn't exactly a compliment, but it wasn't an outright prohibition either, and Diệp Sương sensed, however vaguely, that this was perhaps the closest thing to recognition that a strict instructor like Nhiêu Bá Tường could give a new disciple.

*

That afternoon, during self-study time, Diệp Sương sat alone in the corner of the training ground, continuing to experiment with her hybrid ink, when Âu Bội Nhi ran over, panting because she had just run all the way from the library.

"Do you know anything?" the girl said happily. "Next month there will be a special lecture on the history of Linh Mạch, led by Elder Tạ Vân Khê! I heard that she rarely teaches extracurricular classes herself, probably because..." Âu Bội Nhi lowered her voice and glanced around. "...because of you. People say she wants to follow your studies closely."

Diệp Sương blushed, both shy and a little pressured by that attention. "I don't want special treatment. I just want to study like everyone else."

"Why are you worried?" Âu Bội Nhi smiled, sitting down next to her friend, looking at the half-drawn talisman on the stone table. "What is this? The drawing is strangely beautiful, different from what the standard sect teaches."

"I'm trying to mix ink in my own way," Diệp Sương explained, recounting Nhiêu Bá Tường's reaction that morning.

"Oh, didn't Instructor Nhiêu forbid you?" Âu Bội Nhi asked, surprised. "He is famous for being strict about fundamentals, often not allowing anyone to deviate from the standard model."

"He just said you need to master the foundation first," Diệp Sương replied, "but he didn't completely forbid it." Âu Bội Nhi nodded and curiously picked up the talisman to look at it. "I find it much warmer than the talismans I drew with standard spirit ink. I don't know how to describe it, but looking at it, I feel strangely comfortable."

That unintentional comment made Diệp Sương smile, a little confidence returning to her heart after the first collisions with Wei Bá Tuân and Nhiêu Bá Tường's severity. Maybe, she thought, the way forward did not have to be a choice between Mr. Tám Mực's way of drawing and the sect's way. Perhaps, like the little talisman lying on the stone table, it could find its own path, harmonize the two, and become something completely new that no one had ever imagined.

When the afternoon light began to turn yellow on the training ground, the two of them packed their things and prepared to return to their rooms. Diệp Sương suddenly saw, in the distance on the inner-sect training ground, a small group practicing combat - not drawing spells on paper, but applying them directly: one side attacking with shorthand strokes, the other defending with quick reflexes. In that group, she recognized the straight figure and cold face she had glimpsed during the initiation ceremony, performing a series of defensive movements so precise that the whole group admired him.

"What are you looking at?" Âu Bội Nhi asked, following the direction of her friend's eyes.

"Nothing," Diệp Sương said, shaking her head and quickly turning away, but her heart still held a trace of curiosity about that disciple - she did not know his name or origin, only that something about the way he stood and moved made it impossible not to pay attention, even if only for a moment among the countless unfamiliar faces in this vast sect.

On the way back to her room, Âu Bội Nhi chattered about all kinds of gossip she overheard from the senior sisters - about which disciples were about to be promoted to inner sect, about which teachings were the most difficult, about which dishes in the big kitchen were the best in each season. Diệp Sương listened, occasionally contributing a few sentences, clearly feeling that the initial days of confusion were gradually giving way to a new, more familiar rhythm of life, although in her heart she always kept a small corner reserved for Tùng Lĩnh Village, for the faces she had said goodbye to just over half a month ago but now felt as distant as another dream.