Chapter 22 — The Talisman Painter Who Guards the Village

The Distant Lam Thủy Town

The smell of dried fish and salted fish sauce—the smell that had overwhelmed Diệp Sương the first time she visited Lam Thủy Town—was now mixed with another, stranger smell: the fishy odor of mud rising from jars of water left in front of the stalls, turbid as if an invisible hand had just stirred them.

"The well water has been murky for a week now," a fish seller lamented when she saw a group of Vân Các disciples passing by, their light blue robes standing out among the bustling crowd in the market. "The fish in the tank also gradually died for unknown reasons, as if something was draining all the life from the water." Nhiêu Bá Tường stopped, nodded and signaled the group to follow him straight to the governor's palace, where a young mandarin was waiting with a few soldiers, his face showing relief when he saw the group of disciples arriving.

"Finally, someone has come down from the sect," the official said, his tone mixed with both reproach and gratitude. "We sent a letter asking for help five days ago."

"The distance is long, news travels slowly," Nhiêu Bá Tường replied, without further justification. "Now tell us in full what you observed."

*

While Nhiêu Bá Tường and Chung Nhã Trúc listened to the detailed report from the governor, Diệp Sương and Âu Bội Nhi were sent with two other disciples to check the outside of the market - where old talismans were placed around the public water well.

"My house is nearby," Âu Bội Nhi said, her voice lowered as the group passed a small alley leading into the silk trading district. "Can I stop by for a visit? Just to know my parents are okay." Diệp Sương nodded immediately, and the group turned into the alley. Âu Bội Nhi's house was a spacious two-story wooden house. The sign "Vinh Xuong Silk House" hanging in front was old but still had sharp handwriting. Âu Bội Nhi's mother, a kind middle-aged woman, hugged her daughter as soon as she saw her silhouette at the door, tears welling up in her eyes.

"You came back just in time," she said, her voice trembling. "For the past few days, no one in the whole street has dared to go out after dark. Last night, someone saw a shadow flying across the western roof, the shrill cry was so scary."

"Don't worry, Mom," Âu Bội Nhi reassured, holding her mother's hand tightly. "We came down here to take care of that. The sect is here, it will be fine."

Diệp Sương stood silently watching the mother and child reunite, a small jealousy arose in her heart that she immediately felt ashamed for thinking about - she also had someone to return to, just a day further away, and didn't know if that person was safe or not.

*

Leaving Âu Bội Nhi's house, the group returned to the public well in the middle of the market, where old talisman leaves hanging on a yellowed stone pillar, the ink strokes had almost completely disappeared under the dust of many years of rain and sun. A small crowd of townspeople stood around from afar, whispering, their eyes both hopeful and cautious like those of White Stone villagers.

"Let me try first," Diệp Sương said to her teammates, taking down the old talisman, her fingers touching the rotten wood where each stroke had stuck. She mixed a small bowl of ink on the spot, not following the official recipe but adding ash from the nearby stove out of an instinctive habit.

"What style are you planning to draw?" Âu Bội Nhi asked, curiously looking over her friend's shoulder.

"The well water is cloudy because something is drawing the vitality out of it," Diệp Sương explained, keeping her eyes on the water moving at the bottom of the well. "If you simply suppress it from outside like the old talisman, you'll probably hold it back only briefly. I want to draw it in a different direction—letting the talisman blend into the water and help restore it instead of merely blocking it."

His brush strokes glided across the new wooden surface, slowly but surely, each curve carrying a clearer purpose than the first time he was still clumsy in the sect. When the talisman was completed and hung back on the stone pillar, a pale halo of light spread over the water, and in just a moment, the turbid layer of mud above began to settle, revealing clearer water.

Murmurs of surprise arose in the crowd. An old man standing nearby clasped his hands and bowed, muttering thanks, causing Diệp Sương to wave her hand quickly, embarrassed by the excessive respect—she was only an outer-sect disciple, not a god.

*

On the way back to the governor's palace, the group passed by an empty lot near the west gate, where a middle-aged man wearing a dark gray robe, completely different from the style of Tông Vân Các's robe, was stabbing small wooden stakes into the ground according to a certain pattern, holding a notebook in his hand, constantly taking notes.

"People of Khâm Vân Ti," a disciple accompanying him said softly. "I once saw this shirt at Elder Tạ Vân Khê's lecture, on an illustration." Diệp Sương recalled that lecture—the royal agency was in charge of surveying Linh Mạch throughout Cửu Vân in coordination with the sect. She curiously stepped closer, observing the man placing the stake.

"What are you guys doing?" he asked, his voice polite.

The man looked up, his eyes glanced briefly at his robe before responding, his voice not very friendly but not hostile either. "We measure the flow of Linh Mạch around this area and record the level of fluctuations. This is Khâm Vân Ti's regular work; there is nothing surprising."

"Is it because there has been unrest recently?" Diệp Sương continued asking, unable to hide her curiosity.

"This girl asks too many questions," the man said, his voice a bit harsh, but then softened a bit. "That's right. We received orders to survey as soon as there was an unusual report. The data will be sent to the capital for further analysis. Your job is to strengthen the spell; our job is to find out the reason — two different things, no need to overlap," He bent down and continued his work without saying anything more. Diệp Sương stood still for a moment, looking at the wooden stakes scattered in an order she did not fully understand, then quietly turned to follow the group. A vague question lingered in her heart: if Khâm Vân Ti had surveyed this area regularly, why did unusual signs keep appearing without anyone stopping them early?

*

In the evening, the whole group gathered at a small guesthouse arranged by the governor's office to discuss plans for tomorrow. Nhiêu Bá Tường spread an old map on the table and used his finger to point to each marked point.

"Lam Thủy Town has no immediate signs of danger, just prolonged instability," he said. "I will leave two disciples and senior sister Chung Nhã Trúc behind to reinforce the town talismans around the town in the next few days. And I will lead Diệp Sương, Âu Bội Nhi and another disciple to continue down to Tùng Lĩnh Village tomorrow morning, because the strange light the patrol team saw is in that direction."

Diệp Sương clasped her hands on her knees, her heart beating faster when she heard her village's name being officially mentioned, as a hot spot that needed urgent treatment instead of just a hometown in her memories.

"Can I ask something?" it spoke up. "The Khâm Vân Ti people I met this afternoon said they survey this area regularly. So why did the situation continue for a week before the sect came down to assist?"

Nhiêu Bá Tường was silent for a moment, his eyes revealed a rare hesitation. "Khâm Vân Ti surveys and takes notes, but the decision to mobilize rescue forces belongs to the sect, and sometimes, to approval processes that are more complicated than expected," he replied, his voice somewhat reserved. "That's not something you need to worry about right now. Our job is to get there, do what needs to be done, as quickly as possible." That answer did not completely satisfy Diệp Sương, but she nodded and did not ask further. Âu Bội Nhi, sitting next to her at the table, gently nudged her friend's shoulder, speaking softly as if reading her thoughts. "Don't think too much. I know you—if something isn't clear, you stay up all night wondering. You have a long journey tomorrow, so go to bed early."

"Yes," Diệp Sương replied, trying to force a smile, but the question about Khâm Vân Ti's wooden stakes had not left her heart. She told herself that perhaps she was thinking too far ahead—a sixteen-year-old girl and outer-sect disciple had no reason to doubt a royal agency that had existed longer than her own sect. Yet the overwhelming feeling, though vague, clung to her like a speck of dust in the eye: too small to see clearly, but impossible to ignore.

That night, lying on a strange bed in the guest house in Lam Thủy Town, she took out Thanh Việt's piece of jade pendant, turned it gently in her hand under the moonlight filtering through the window, feeling a vague warmth, not sure if it was real or just something she imagined to reassure herself.

Far away, out there, towards Tùng Lĩnh Village, the night sky seemed darker than other places, as if an invisible blanket was gradually covering the land it once called home.