Chapter 24 — The Talisman Painter Who Guards the Village

Unforgettable Drawings

The next morning, the whole group of disciples gathered at the village gate - the same place that had been torn apart during the night of the small demon tide years ago, had now been rebuilt more solidly with ironwood, but the talisman hanging on the gate, Diệp Sương immediately recognized, was still a standard sect-issued talisman, nothing special, and over time had begun to fade.

"We will divide into three small groups," Nhiêu Bá Tường announced in front of the whole group and a few young men in the village appointed by Chief Lý Đoài to support them. "One group reinforced the entire fortification system around the village gate and key points. One group inspected Linh Căn temple and the well area. The other group surveyed the forest belt around the village, looking for unusual signs."

Diệp Sương was assigned to the group in charge of Linh Căn temple, along with Âu Bội Nhi and another disciple named Đình Khôi. On the way there, she passed Mộc's house and saw him and a few other workers hastily closing wooden doors that were thicker than usual for the houses in the neighborhood.

"So careful?" he asked, pausing for a moment.

"Mrs. Chín Lài told me," Mộc replied, constantly shaving wood. "She said she had a bad feeling these past few days. Since you came back, I've seen her become more worried, as if she knew something." Diệp Sương nodded and didn't say anything more, but in her heart, those words reinforced the insecurity she had carried since last night at the temple well.

*

At Linh Căn Temple, under the daylight, the dry well's condition appeared much clearer than the night before - not only was the water level low, but the water color was also unusually murky, with an unpleasant fishy smell that Diệp Sương had never smelled here before.

"This is not like a normal drought," Đình Khôi commented, kneeling at the mouth of the well, holding a small measuring instrument borrowed from Nhiêu Bá Tường. "The Linh Mạch flow here is nearly three-tenths weaker than normal, according to the sect's standard scale."

"Three out of ten," Âu Bội Nhi repeated, frowning. "It might not sound like much, but…"

"But enough to make all the old guarding talismans in the area become much weaker than their true abilities," Diệp Sương continued, recalling Nhiêu Bá Tường's lecture on the relationship between Linh Mạch strength and Spirit Talisman effectiveness. "It's like a loose string on a guitar. If you pluck it, it still sounds, but the sound is weak, no longer strong enough to resonate far."

The three got to work, removing the old talismans around the temple and replacing them with new ones. But this time, instead of simply applying the standard formula, Diệp Sương proposed an approach based on her experience in Đá Trắng village and the long night at the Vân Tiêu battlefield.

"If the Linh Mạch here is weak, perhaps casting a strong suppressive spell will only make it more exhausted, like forcing an extra burden on a sick person," Diệp Sương said, already mixing the ink in the familiar ratio. "I want to try drawing a gentler spell, more like soothing rather than controlling, to give the well time to heal itself."

*

At noon, while the three were resting and eating the rice balls they brought with them, a group of villagers came to watch, including Chief Lý Đoài. He stood looking at the new talisman Diệp Sương had just finished hanging on the stone pillar next to the temple, his eyes were complicated.

"You have done so many great things," he said, his voice somewhat shy, rarely seen in a person who always maintained the dignity of the village chief. "I still remember, in the past, when you first started drawing on the wall of the house, I thought it was just a child's play. I was wrong." The villagers standing behind him murmured in agreement, some even pointing at the new talisman, discussing the soft light that still spread around the mouth of the well. Diệp Sương realized that among them was Uncle Sau's family - who had been seriously injured the night the village gate was torn apart - standing at the edge of the crowd, eyes following it with a quiet gratitude that had never been expressed in words for many years.

Uncle Sau was now limping on one leg, a remnant of his old injury, but when he saw Diệp Sương looking towards him, he just nodded slightly, a short gesture that was heavier than any lengthy words of gratitude. Diệp Sương bowed her head in response, her heart tightening as she remembered that night - the night that saved some people but not everyone, the night that laid the foundation for everything that would happen later.

"You don't have to say that," Diệp Sương replied, somewhat embarrassed.

"No, I need to talk," Chief Lý Đoài insisted, his voice low. "In the past, when there was the first sign of something unusual, I was late, thinking that waiting to report it to the town and then reporting it to the sect would be better than making a decision early. As a result, the village gate was torn open, and Uncle Sau was seriously injured and almost lost his life. This time, I don't want to repeat that mistake again."

Diệp Sương was silent for a moment, surprised by this unexpected frankness. "So what are you going to do?" she asked.

"I sent someone to report to Lam Thủy Town as soon as the temple well began to dry up, without waiting for any other signs," Chief Lý Đoài replied. "And from today, I will organize rotating guards around the village every night, not waiting until something happens to act."

*

Late in the afternoon, when the group was preparing to return to the guesthouse to rest, a panicked scream rang out from the buffalo barn at the end of the village. Diệp Sương and Đình Khôi rushed over and saw a herd of buffaloes madly banging their heads against the barn wall, their eyes bloodshot and white foam at the mouth, while the two men tried their best to hold them back but could not.

"What's wrong with them?" Âu Bội Nhi asked, her voice panicked.

Diệp Sương didn't answer right away, just focused on observing, and immediately realized what she was most afraid of - the same type of panic she had seen in the animals in the village, many years ago, right before the night of the small demon tide.

"They sense something we haven't seen yet," he said, his voice final, immediately taking the spell casting tool out of his pocket. "Need a tranquilizer immediately, to calm them down before anyone gets hurt."

His pen moved quickly across an old piece of cloth found on the spot—not standard paper or ideal material, but his hands were accustomed to adapting in emergencies. As soon as the talisman was complete, a soft light spread around the buffalo barn, and the herd began to calm, their frantic roars fading into tired panting.

"This," one of the two men sighed, wiping the sweat from his forehead, "this is exactly what happened before the night the demon attacked that year. Everyone in the village remembers it."

*

That night, when reporting the incident to Nhiêu Bá Tường, he pondered for a long time before speaking.

"I will send someone on horseback to report urgently to the sect tonight," he said. "The signs here are much clearer than we thought. We need more forces, and we need to prepare for the worst."

"How long will it take for reinforcements to arrive?" Diệp Sương asked, her voice tense.

"The fastest would be two days," Nhiêu Bá Tường replied, his eyes clearly revealing the worry that he tried to hide in front of his disciples. "In the meantime, we have to do the best we can with what we have at hand."

Diệp Sương looked out the guesthouse window at the darkness covering her small village, where every oil lamp now carried a wordless uneasiness. She thought of Mrs. Chín Lài, Mr. Tám Mực, Mộc, Mận, and the herd of buffaloes she had just soothed, and told herself that no matter what the next two days brought, she would not leave this place until she was sure everyone was safe.

*

Before going to bed, she took out Thanh Việt's jade pendant again, placed it on the table under the flickering oil lamp, and examined it carefully as if she could see something unusual in the stone pattern. She remembered what he had told her before they said goodbye—think about returning safely first, then think about saving anyone—and laughed softly to herself, knowing full well that she would have a hard time keeping that promise if the worst happened.

Âu Bội Nhi, lying on the bamboo bed next to her, tossed and turned, still not sleeping. "What do you think Wei Bá Tuân is doing in the mountains right now?" she asked, trying to change the subject to lighten it up. "Probably upset because he wasn't sent down here."

"I don't think about them right now," Diệp Sương replied, her voice tired but calm. "I just hope that tomorrow morning no more animals will go crazy, no more wells will run dry."

"It'll be okay," Âu Bội Nhi said, although her voice couldn't hide the worry. "You have taken care of this whole village since you were a child. Now that you have the sect's support, it will be even better."

Diệp Sương did not answer, just looked up at the old thatched roof, listened to the sound of insects chirping in the yard, trying to find some peace before a fitful sleep came, bringing with it broken dreams of torn village gates and bloodshot eyes in the darkness.