Chapter 16 — The Talisman Painter Who Guards the Village

Lecture on Spiritual Vessels

The large lecture hall was filled with outer sect disciples that morning, whispers echoed throughout the room as rumors that Elder Tạ Vân Khê himself would personally give a lecture spread throughout the past week. Diệp Sương sat next to Âu Bội Nhi in the middle row, and Cố Thanh Việt, even though he was an outside student of another course, was also allowed to attend thanks to his special position in the combined military training program.

When Tạ Vân Khê walked in, the entire lecture hall immediately fell silent. She did not use a high podium like other instructors, but stood right in the middle of the hall, her eyes scanning each student's face before starting.

"Today, I won't be teaching you how to draw charms," she began, her voice echoing clearly throughout the room. "I will teach you about what every talisman you draw is intended to protect or control: Linh Mạch."

She signaled an assistant disciple to bring a large map to hang on the shelf, on which were drawn zigzag lines flowing throughout the territory of Cửu Vân like a giant network of blood vessels.

"Linh Mạch is not a simple river flowing from one place to another," Tạ Vân Khê explained, pointing along the ridges on the map. "It is a living network, self-regulating, self-balancing in a way that even the most learned scholars of the sect do not fully understand. When stable, it nourishes the land, keeping the demons peaceful in their wild nature. But when damaged in one spot..."

She stopped, her solemn eyes looking around the classroom. "...it not only affects that point, but also stagnates and spreads to neighboring points, like an infectious wound that spreads if not treated properly. That is the formation mechanism of the demon tide."

Tạ Vân Khê recounts a historical story to illustrate — about a demon tide that occurred nearly a hundred years ago, in a land far south of Cửu Vân, when a natural earthquake cracked a large section of Linh Mạch. "At that time, the Tông Vân Các was still young and had limited experience in dealing with it. That demon tide lasted nearly a month, claiming the lives of thousands of people before it was completely extinguished. It was from that disaster that the sect learned many valuable lessons, building the suppression system and response procedures that you are learning today."

The whole class listened silently, the atmosphere became much heavier when realizing that the seemingly dry lessons they were learning were all exchanged for the blood and tears of previous generations.

"But not all demon tides originate from natural disasters," Tạ Vân Khê continued, her voice low. "There are cases, although rare, where Linh Mạch is injured due to improper intervention by human hands — perhaps accidentally, perhaps due to lack of understanding. That is why we always emphasize absolute caution in all operations related to Linh Mạch, whether guarding or any other form of interaction."

*

"So what is Tông Vân Các's role in this?" A disciple raised his hand and asked.

"Our core mission is to guard and stabilize vulnerable Linh Mạch points, and respond when a demon tide occurs," Tạ Vân Khê replied. "But Tông Vân Các does not operate alone. The royal court has a separate agency, called Khâm Vân Ti, in charge of surveying and coordinating issues related to resources around Linh Mạch nationwide, working closely with us in monitoring the situation throughout Cửu Vân."

Diệp Sương listened attentively, remembering the name "Khâm Vân Ti" in her head, even though in that moment it was just a neutral background detail, nothing particularly noteworthy than the other terms being introduced.

"Elder," he timidly raised his hand, when Tạ Vân Khê stopped to ask if he had any questions, "I have a question."

"You just ask," Tạ Vân Khê nodded, her eyes settling on Diệp Sương with special attention that the whole class recognized.

"If the Linh Mạch is a self-balancing network, then wouldn't mining resources from it — whether for good, such as making stronger spirits, or any other purpose — unbalance it, like natural damage?"

That question made the entire lecture hall silent for a long enough time to become awkward. Tạ Vân Khê didn't answer right away, her eyes flashed with something complicated - not exactly surprise, but almost a sudden caution.

"That's a very pointed question," she said at last, her voice much slower. "Theoretically, that's true. Any intervention in Linh Mạch, no matter how good the intention, carries the risk of imbalance if not done carefully and with strict control. That's why resource exploitation related to Linh Mạch is always strictly monitored, only qualified and licensed people can do it."

*

After the lecture, when the disciples left, Cố Thanh Việt found Diệp Sương, his eyes were unusually thoughtful.

"Your question just now made me think a lot," he said.

"I'm just curious," Diệp Sương replied, somewhat confused by his serious reaction. "Is there anything wrong?"

"That's not wrong," he shook his head, "but I noticed that Elder Tạ Vân Khê seemed... much more cautious when answering that question, compared to other questions during the lecture. Did you notice?"

Diệp Sương thought again, and realized that Cố Thanh Việt was right - there was a moment of silence, an unusually careful consideration before Tạ Vân Khê answered his question, different from the way she fluently answered other questions during the lecture.

"Maybe it's just because it's a difficult question, you need to think carefully before answering correctly," Diệp Sương said, even though inside she didn't completely believe her own explanation.

"Maybe so," Cố Thanh Việt nodded, but his eyes still held a hint of thought. "Anyway, it's a question worth paying attention to. If I have the chance, I'd like to learn more about Khâm Vân Ti — my father mentioned this agency a few times in his letters, seemingly a bit dissatisfied with the way they operate, but I never asked in detail."

*

That evening, when telling the whole story to Âu Bội Nhi, Diệp Sương received a much more indifferent response.

"You think too much," Âu Bội Nhi said, brushing her hair and talking. "Maybe the elder is just considering how to explain it so it's understandable to the new disciples. There's nothing to worry about."

"You're probably right," Diệp Sương nodded, trying to get rid of idle thoughts, but in her heart, that question - and Tạ Vân Khê's short but meaningful silence - still lingered like a small grain that hadn't completely dissolved, silently lying there, waiting for one day in the distant future to grow into something that could no longer be taken lightly.

She lay down on the bed, looked up at the ceiling, thought about the Linh Mạch map spread across Cửu Vân that Tạ Vân Khê had shown, about the zigzag lines like the blood vessels of an entire kingdom, and wondered, not for the first time since going up the mountain, whether she really understood everything about the world she was living in, or if she had only touched the outer shell of a much greater truth.

Before falling asleep, she remembered the story about the demon tide a hundred years ago that Tạ Vân Khê told, about the thousands of lives lost before the sect could learn its lesson. She thought of her small village of Tùng Lĩnh, of the old town talisman that almost failed to protect anyone in time, of the story Mr. Tám Mực told about the big town being destroyed because it was "three days late". Each of those fragments of memory, when put together, seemed to gradually paint a larger picture of the world in which she lived - a world where the line between safety and disaster was much thinner than most people believed, and where the responsibility of maintaining that line fell heavily on the shoulders of the few people given the ability to do so.

She silently told herself, even though there were still so many things she didn't fully understand, that she would study very hard and carefully, so that one day, if faced with a larger tide of danger, she would not have to stand by helplessly as in the history Tạ Vân Khê had just recounted.

Sleep finally came, bringing with it flickering images of the Linh Mạch map, of zigzag lines mixed with Cố Thanh Việt's pensive face and Tạ Vân Khê's cautious, unpredictable eyes, as if even in the dream, her mind was constantly trying to piece together a bigger picture than she could imagine.