Chapter 39 — The Talisman Painter Who Guards the Village

After the Sandstorm

Three days after the battle at Hạn Thủy ravine, Tiêu Sa Pass gradually returned to its daily routine, although traces of that life-and-death night were still clearly visible everywhere - chipped sections of the wall were being repaired, a few soldiers were still recuperating, and an atmosphere of both relief and caution pervaded the entire camp.

Diệp Sương spent most of her time helping Sầm Nguyên Trạch reevaluate the entire defense system, suggesting adjustments based on recent experience. Hạn Thủy ravine, even though it had subsided, still needed to be closely monitored—it was not completely extinguished, only temporarily contained.

"We need to set up a permanent observation station near the fissure," she proposed during the review meeting. "Like Cảnh Linh Đài in Tông Vân Các, although much simpler, it would be enough to detect any signs of abnormality early."

Tất Bá Kỳ, sitting nearby taking notes, looked up to comment. "I will draft a detailed proposal and send it to the sect, asking for more long-term manpower and supplies for this area," he said. "This time, I will personally present the seriousness and not let it get lost in the pile of documents like before."

"Thank you," Diệp Sương said, unable to hide her surprise at this new enthusiasm. "I didn't expect..."

"I didn't expect that I would be on your side?" Tất Bá Kỳ finished his sentence, slightly curling his lips, an expression that was almost a rare smile. "I simply recorded the truth I witnessed. If that truth causes me to change my original opinion, I don't see anything to be ashamed of." Sầm Nguyên Trạch laughed dryly and patted Tất Bá Kỳ's shoulder. "You have become a completely different person compared to the day you first came here."

*

In the afternoon, when work was temporarily put aside, Diệp Sương stopped by Diêm Cốc village, where villagers had begun to return after the area was confirmed to be safe. Mr. Mười Khoan was standing in the middle of the yard, commanding a few men to repair a damaged section of fence. His face, although still tired, shone with a rare ray of hope.

"You saved this whole village," he said when he saw Diệp Sương approaching, his voice solemn. "Not just last night, but all these past months, when you persistently reinforced each talisman and taught each child. We will never forget this grace."

"You don't have to say that," Diệp Sương replied, somewhat embarrassed. "This is the job you should do."

"Not everyone chooses to do what 'should' be done when no one forces them," Mr. Mười Khoan replied, his eyes deep. "You chose to stay in a distant, forgotten place, when you could have chosen an easier path at the sect. That, to us, is more precious than any words of gratitude can express."

He stopped for a moment, looking at the children playing around the yard again, crisp laughter rang out for the first time after many stressful days. "I've lived here most of my life," he continued, his voice low. "Watching generations grow up and then leave because the land is barren. For the first time, I dare to think that this village can be revived, not just survive the day."

Diệp Sương smiled, her heart warmed at that new hope, even though she knew clearly that there was still a long way to go before this land could truly escape its state of depletion.

*

Little Tơ ran over as soon as she saw Diệp Sương, no longer as timid as in the first days, and hugged her without hesitation. "Sister, can you teach me how to draw more?" she asked, her eyes bright with excitement.

"Okay," Diệp Sương replied with a smile. She sat with the girl in the shade of one of the few remaining trees and began teaching her the basic strokes of a simple talisman, patiently correcting each clumsy line just as Mr. Tám Mực had once been patient with her.

The afternoon passed in that rare peace, and when the sunset began to dye the desert sky red, Diệp Sương realized that, although this land still had many challenges ahead, she began to feel an attachment no different from Tùng Lĩnh Village - a place she never thought she would call home, but had now gradually become one.

On the way back to the camp, she stopped by to visit the soldiers who were still recovering from injuries, bringing along some self-made painkillers according to the recipe Mrs. Chín Lài had taught her, combined with a few rare herbs found around the area. A young soldier, his hand still bandaged, grabbed her hand and thanked her profusely.

"You're not just good at drawing spells," he said, smiling wryly because the wound still hurt. "Do you even know how to heal?"

"Just learned a little bit from my foster grandmother," Diệp Sương replied, smiling modestly, although secretly grateful that the years of following Mrs. Chín Lài into the forest to pick medicine had equipped her with more knowledge than she had ever realized.

*

That night, Cố Thanh Việt found Diệp Sương sitting alone on the citadel wall, watching stars begin to dot the darkening sky.

"Can I sit together?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"Of course," she replied, moving aside to make room.

The two sat silently for a long time, watching the scene of the dry land gradually change to a different beauty under the moonlight - no longer the scary desolation like the first day they arrived, but with a strange, almost peaceful stillness.

"I think a lot about what you said last night," Thanh Việt spoke first, his voice thoughtful. "About how I don't need to be a copy of my brother. I think, maybe for the first time in my life, I feel like I'm doing something that's truly my own, not because of my father's expectations, not because of the shadow of my deceased brother."

*

"I'm glad you feel that way," Diệp Sương replied, turning to look at him, the moonlight illuminating his face with a gentleness that was different from the usual seriousness.

"Not only that," Thanh Việt continued, his voice holding a rare hesitation. "I think, most of that feeling comes from being with you. From the day I met you, I began to learn to look at things differently — not just responsibility, but also the true meaning behind what I do."

Diệp Sương felt her heart beat faster, not knowing how to respond to that unexpected sincerity. "Me too," she admitted softly. "With you by my side, every challenge seems much less scary."

Thanh Việt turned to look straight at her. The distance between them seemed to narrow naturally; no one took the initiative—it was simply a closeness that had silently grown over many months of facing danger together.

*

"Sương," he called her name, something he rarely did, his voice soft as if afraid of breaking this fragile moment. "I don't know exactly what to call this feeling. But I know, I don't want to live one day without you by my side."

Diệp Sương held her breath, her heart pounding in her chest. "Me too," she replied softly, her voice trembling slightly with an emotion she had never allowed herself to fully acknowledge. "But maybe... we still have too many things to worry about—the Hạn Thủy ravine, the sect, and the unanswered questions. Maybe it's not the time to..."

"I understand," Thanh Việt interrupted, gently but not disappointed. "I'm not in a hurry. Just knowing that, even though I haven't named it yet, this feeling is still there, waiting for the day we're both ready, is enough for me." Diệp Sương nodded, a mixture of relief and regret crept into her heart, and the two fell into silence again, but this time, that silence was no longer awkward, but filled with a deep understanding, when Thanh Việt's hand gently reached out to hold her hand, and Diệp Sương, without hesitation, squeezed it tightly, letting the starlight in the desert sky witness something that, even though it did not yet have a name, was certain that it could no longer return as before.

They sat like that for a long time, no one was in a hurry to break the silence, listening to the sound of the night wind blowing through the sand dunes, the sound of insects chirping somewhere at the foot of the citadel wall, and in the distance, the flickering oil lamp light from Diêm Cốc village, where people who had just escaped a night of life and death were falling into a rare peaceful sleep.

"Tomorrow," Thanh Việt spoke last, his voice had returned to its familiar calmness but still had a bit of new warmth, "we still have to start building the observation post, and write a report to send to the sect. You should rest early."

"Yes," Diệp Sương replied, but did not let go of his hand right away, just lingered a little longer, fully enjoying this rare warm feeling before both had to return to the countless responsibilities that lay ahead.