Chapter 28 — The Talisman Painter Who Guards the Village

Rumors on the Mountain

The trail leading to Vân Tiêu Peak, after nearly two weeks of absence, appeared before Diệp Sương's eyes with a strange feeling - no longer completely distant like the first time she set foot here at the age of thirteen, but not familiar enough to call it home, a state of limbo between two worlds to which she was still not quite used to belonging.

"Have you heard anything?" Âu Bội Nhi whispered, stepping closer when the group had just passed the three-entrance gate of Tông Vân Các. "The news about the night in Tùng Lĩnh Village spread here before we even got there. The lower class outer sect disciples kept asking me along the way if you really used a whole circle of people to cast a big spell."

Diệp Sương did not have time to respond, because at that moment, a small group of disciples gathered near the training ground turned to look towards the group, the whispers rose much more clearly than the reserved attitude they were used to seeing before.

*

The news, just as Âu Bội Nhi said, had spread further than Diệp Sương could have imagined. That very afternoon, when she visited Cố Thanh Việt in the pharmacist's room - now nearly recovered, with only a faint scar left on his temple - he knew most of the story, even though he hadn't heard it directly from him.

"You made me so worried," he said as soon as he saw her enter, his voice both reproachful and undisguisedly relieved. "Rumors everywhere say you were injured, then they say you alone faced a group of demons, each person telling a different story. I don't know who to believe."

"I'm not alone," Diệp Sương replied, sitting down by the bed, telling the whole story - from the night the demon tide flooded into the village, to Linh Căn temple, to the group of people holding hands in the middle of the demon siege. Thanh Việt listened attentively, did not interrupt, just clenched his hands at each dangerous part of the story, his eyes gradually changing from tension to something almost proud.

"You've done something no one has ever thought of," he said when he finished, his voice low. "Using a loved one as a fulcrum for the talisman. It sounds crazy reckless, but it's true in a way that only you can think of."

"It was dangerous," Diệp Sương admitted, "but at that time I had no other choice. Besides, maybe thanks to that I understood one more thing — strength doesn't always have to come from me alone." Thanh Việt nodded, his eyes stopping at the bandage still wrapped around her shoulder. "Does this wound still hurt?"

"It's much better," she replied, then suddenly remembered the jade pendant, took it from her pocket, and gave it back to him. "Here you go. Thank you for letting me borrow it. Even though I'm not sure whether it really helped, having it in my pocket made me feel much more secure."

Thanh Việt looked at the piece of jade in his palm for a moment, then shook his head and pushed her hand back. "Just keep it," he said, his voice holding a rare hesitation. "I think it suits you better than resting in my drawer."

Diệp Sương looked up at him, not sure whether she understood the meaning behind that sentence. Before she could ask more, a pharmacist walked in to remind her to take her medicine, interrupting the awkward moment. She had no choice but to put the jade piece back in her pocket. A warm feeling that was hard to name remained in her heart, no different from the feeling she had every time she stood next to him at Cảnh Linh Đài during quiet nights on duty.

*

The next day, an open class meeting was convened, where Elder Tạ Vân Khê personally came to hear a report from Nhiêu Bá Tường about the survey trip. Diệp Sương stood in the middle of the large hall, feeling hundreds of eyes on her as Nhiêu Bá Tường recounted the details of the night in Tùng Lĩnh Village, not hiding any details, including the part he had once doubted whether her method was really safe.

"This is a technique that has never been recorded in any sect's textbooks," Tạ Vân Khê said, her voice echoing throughout the hall, her eyes landing on Diệp Sương with deep appreciation. "I propose to include this case in the official research file, and consider promoting disciple Chu Diệp Sương to the inner sect rank earlier than usual, based on proven combat ability."

Murmurs spread throughout the hall, most of them showing surprise and admiration, but Diệp Sương couldn't help but notice a small corner where Wei Bá Tuân stood, his face darkened, his teeth clenched so tightly that you could see the veins bulging on his jaw.

*

In the evening, news of the promotion proposal spread throughout the outer sect student housing area, and a lot of jealousy-tinged talk began to appear, although most of it was still sincere admiration. Diệp Sương, on the way back to the room, overheard a conversation between a few upperclassmen disciples standing in the corner of the hallway.

"She comes from a remote village, has never studied formally, yet is now considered to be promoted to the inner sect earlier than those who have trained hard for many years," a voice rang out, not sure who it was, but cold enough for Diệp Sương to immediately realize that it was not a compliment. "If this continues, won't all the hard work of others practicing methodically become meaningless?"

"Could it be that drawing style is actually just luck, not revealing all the risks?" Another voice chimed in. "If you fail, who will bear the consequences?"

Diệp Sương stood still behind the corner of the wall, not intending to eavesdrop but not brave enough to step out and confront him. A familiar feeling of heaviness arose in her heart - a feeling she had thought she had left behind since the day of White Stone Village, but now, as his achievements became greater, it seemed that those skeptical voices grew as well, not disappearing as she had hoped.

*

That same night, Wei Bá Tuân found Diệp Sương while he was alone in a corner of the empty training ground, the crescent moon shining down, creating long shadows on the stone floor.

"I heard you're about to be promoted to the inner sect," he said, his voice making no attempt to hide the sarcasm. "Faster than me, even though I started two years before you."

"I don't ask for that," Diệp Sương replied, trying to keep her voice calm even though her heart was starting to get tense. "That is the decision of the elders."

"Do you know how hard I had to work to maintain my position in my family?" Wei Bá Tuân suddenly asked, his voice lowered, revealing a part of his emotions that he rarely exposed. "Every exam, I must achieve better results than the previous year, otherwise, my father will say that I have disgraced the family name. As for you, a person with no background, all it takes is one lucky night to be praised by the entire sect."

"It's not luck," Diệp Sương replied, her voice harder than she intended. "That night I almost lost my loved ones, almost lost my life. I don't think I'm lucky to have to go through that."

Wei Bá Tuân was silent for a long time, his eyes were complex, not entirely hostile, but mixed with a deeper insecurity than Diệp Sương had ever seen. "You go your own way," he said finally, his voice cool again. "But don't expect me to stand aside and watch you surpass everything I've worked hard to achieve all my life, without a word of protest."

He turned around and left, leaving Diệp Sương standing alone in the middle of the quiet training ground, a premonition rising in her heart that, although the night in Tùng Lĩnh Village had ended, another war—more silent but no less persistent—was now beginning on this very mountain.

She stood still for a moment, watching Wei Bá Tuân's shadow disappear down the hallway, then sat down on the cold stone steps in the middle of the training ground, took the old inkstone out of her pocket, and turned it gently in her hand under the light of the waning moon. She thought about what Mr. Tám Mực once said about his own past - a talented person but, due to poor circumstances, never noticed by any sect - and wondered if Wei Bá Tuân's insecurity, even though it came from a completely opposite situation, was also rooted in the same common fear: fear that the effort put in would not be properly recognized, fear of being left behind by a system in which he had no right to choose the rules of the game.

She couldn't find a clear answer; she only knew that, no matter how sympathetic she was, the path she chose would be difficult to stop just because of one person's probing eyes. That night, when she returned to her room, Âu Bội Nhi was fast asleep. Diệp Sương sat by the familiar windowsill, looking out at the darkness covering the vast architectural complex of the sect, and for the first time since returning, she suddenly realized that the road ahead, even though it had become more recognized, would probably not be any easier than the one she had once walked.