Chapter 17 — The Talisman Painter Who Guards the Village

Night Watch at Cảnh Linh Đài

"Chu Diệp Sương, Cố Thanh Việt — you two have been chosen to be on duty tonight at Cảnh Linh Đài," the teacher in charge of the duty schedule announced at the end of the afternoon class, causing the whole class to stir. Being assigned to be on duty at Cảnh Linh Đài, even if it's just an extra duty shift under the supervision of a senior inner sect disciple, is still a rare honor for an outer sect disciple who has only been in the sect for less than half a year.

"You're really good," Âu Bội Nhi whispered, her eyes sparkling with both admiration and slight jealousy. "I heard that you have to study very well to be chosen to be on duty there."

Diệp Sương just smiled, both nervous and excited at the opportunity to witness with her own eyes the place that Âu Bội Nhi had described with mystery on the first night they met.

*

The road leading to Cảnh Linh Đài winds through many stone steps. The higher you go, the fresher and quieter the air becomes. The noise of the disciple housing area below gradually disappears, giving way to the sound of the wind blowing through the ancient pine trees growing along both sides of the road.

When she arrived, Diệp Sương could not help but admire the scene before her eyes: a circular observatory built of blue stone, in the middle was placed a large light gray stone slab, the surface was dotted with faint light lines that continuously moved slowly, like water flowing under a thin layer of ice.

"This is a touchstone," the inner sect disciple on duty, a quiet young man by another name that Diệp Sương had never met before, briefly explained. "It responds directly to the fluctuations of the Linh Mạch beneath the entire Vân Tiêu mountain region. The color and light intensity of the ridges indicate the degree of stability."

"What color is it now?" Diệp Sương asked, observing attentively.

"Light blue, steady," the supervisor replied. "It's a normal color. If it turns yellow, a mild alarm is needed. If it turns red..." he paused, his voice low, "...then an emergency alarm must be issued immediately, without even a moment's delay."

*

The night of duty passed slowly in silence. The supervisor, after finishing instructing the basic rules, retired to the corner of the platform to rest, leaving Diệp Sương and Cố Thanh Việt sitting next to each other on the touchstone, the main task being to observe and record small changes every hour.

"How does it feel to sit here?" Diệp Sương asked, breaking the long silence, her eyes still fixed on the light lines slowly moving across the stone slab.

"Peaceful," Cố Thanh Việt replied, his deep voice different from the coldness he always showed in front of the crowd. "I like quiet places like this. In the capital, everything is always noisy, there is always someone watching and evaluating my every move."

"What about here?"

"Here, at least for now," he said, looking up at the starry sky, "I'm just an ordinary duty disciple, no one's son."

Diệp Sương remained silent, letting those words settle in the quiet air of the high mountain night. "I like this feeling too," she said softly. "Here, no one looks at me like a lucky country kid who got recommended. It's just me, you, and those bright lines."

Cố Thanh Việt turned to look at her, his eyes sparkling in the darkness as they reflected the dim light from the induction stone. "You are not lucky. You deserve your position, more than anyone I have ever met here."

That simple but sincere statement made Diệp Sương's heart beat faster, a warm feeling spread in her chest that she had never experienced before in this way.

*

In the middle of the night, while the two were busy talking, a pattern on the induction stone suddenly flashed brighter than usual for a moment, changing from blue to a pale yellow color briefly and then returning to normal immediately afterwards.

"That..." Diệp Sương stood up, pointed at the stone, her voice tense.

Cố Thanh Việt also realized it, closed his eyes to concentrate on feeling. "A small, fleeting fluctuation. Perhaps it's not something to worry about, but strangely, its direction..." he opened his eyes, his face slightly confused, "...seems to come from the immediate area, not from far away like normal fluctuations we feel."

The supervisor, hearing the noise, rushed to check, but when he arrived, the stone had returned to a completely stable state, with no signs of abnormalities.

"It's probably just a temporary disturbance," he commented after careful consideration, although his voice couldn't hide a hint of worry. "I will record it in the duty book and report to the elder in charge tomorrow morning for further inspection."

Diệp Sương and Cố Thanh Việt looked at each other, both feeling a vague insecurity, although neither of them said it out loud. This was the first time since climbing the mountain that Diệp Sương witnessed with her own eyes an unusual sign right at the place that was considered the most stable in Cửu Vân.

*

The duty ended when it was nearly dawn. Diệp Sương and Cố Thanh Việt walked down the stone steps together. The atmosphere between the two of them was somewhat quieter after the small incident that had just happened.

"What do you think that is?" Diệp Sương asked, breaking the silence.

"I'm not sure," Cố Thanh Việt answered honestly. "But the feeling I had at that moment was very strange, as if there was a small pulse, just for a moment, and then it was gone. I had never felt anything like that before, even when I practiced sensing vibrations at a distance." The two continued walking in silence, each pursuing their own thoughts, until they reached the front door of the living area, where they had to part ways to go to their own rooms.

"Thank you for tonight," Diệp Sương said, hesitating for a moment before adding, "even though I'm a bit nervous, I still find this to be one of the most memorable nights since I went up the mountain." Cố Thanh Việt nodded slightly, a faint smile flashing across his tired face from staying up all night. "Me too," he said, then turned and walked away, leaving Diệp Sương standing there, her heart still holding both the warmth of the intimate moment and the vague insecurity of what she had just witnessed on top of Cảnh Linh Đài.

*

Diệp Sương only had time to sleep a few hours before attending the morning class, her eyes still dark from lack of sleep. When she entered the training ground, she immediately realized something was wrong—several disciples stood huddled near her stone table, giggling and avoiding eye contact when they saw her approaching.

Upon arriving, Diệp Sương discovered that all of her spell-drawing tools were in disarray; her brush was covered in ink and unusable. Even worse, the piece of paper recording the hybrid ink formula that she had been diligently testing for the past few weeks had been torn up and scattered all over the ground.

"Who did this?" she asked, her voice trembling with both anger and heartache as she bent down to pick up every scrap of paper.

No one answered, but the eyes of a few disciples accidentally glanced towards the corner of the yard, where Wei Bá Tuân was standing with a group of close friends, his face tried to appear indifferent but the corner of his mouth hid a proud smile that was difficult to hide.

"You did it, didn't you?" Diệp Sương stepped forward, her voice still shaking but her eyes had become firmer.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Wei Bá Tuân shrugged, pretending to be confused, but couldn't hide his eyes of amusement. "Maybe your things are just messy on their own. Who says you're always busy chasing after unorthodox things?"

Diệp Sương clenched her fists, trying to suppress her rising anger, but before she could say anything more, sister Chung Nhã Trúc appeared, her stern expression sweeping across the entire scene.

"Whoever did this, voluntarily admit it, I will report more gently to the disciplinary system," she spoke up, her voice sharp. "If I had to investigate it myself, the punishment would be much harsher." No one spoke up, and although everyone implicitly understood who the mastermind was, there was no direct evidence to accuse Wei Bá Tuân. Chung Nhã Trúc sighed and turned to help Diệp Sương clean up the mess, her eyes full of guilt.

"I'm sorry, I didn't protect you as well as I wanted to," she said softly. "But don't let this discourage you. The formula you tested, you still remember in your mind, right? Paper can be torn, but what you learned, no one can tear it away." Diệp Sương nodded, tried to swallow her anger, looked up at Wei Bá Tuân as he left with his friends, and silently told herself that this silent war, even though no one wanted to name it aloud, would probably last longer than she had imagined.

When news of the incident reached Âu Bội Nhi's ears during lunch break, her friend was so angry that she almost rushed straight to Wei Bá Tuân to demand guilt, only to be pulled back in time by Diệp Sương.

"Don't do that," Diệp Sương said, her voice calming down somewhat after a few hours. "Without evidence, making a fuss will only make things more complicated, but may not get justice."

"But aren't you angry?" Âu Bội Nhi asked, still angry.

"I'm angry," Diệp Sương admitted, "but I remember the formula I tested and rewrote most of it tonight. It took a little effort, but not all."

Âu Bội Nhi looked at her friend with both admiration and sadness in her eyes. "You're much stronger than I thought."

"I just don't want to let him see me fall," Diệp Sương said, trying to smile even though smoldering resentment still burned in her heart, along with a vague premonition that, amid these small, everyday collisions with Wei Bá Tuân, something deeper was gradually forming - a seed of contradiction that would probably grow over the years, far beyond the scope of a torn recipe book.