Chapter 42 — The Talisman Painter Who Guards the Village

Old Stake Mark

The group left Tiêu Sa Pass early in the morning, crossed the dry sandy strip of land still marked by horse hooves from the recent battle, heading towards Hạn Thủy creek under the hot sun.

Diệp Sương went first with Thanh Việt, leading the way for Lỗ Khắc Viên and a small group including Chúc Nghi Lam and two survey soldiers carrying strange measuring tools—long copper tubes with ground glass attached, different from anything she had seen in Tông Vân Các.

"What tool is that?" she asked, unable to hold back her curiosity when she saw a soldier adjusting one of the copper pipes, directing it towards the crack.

"New model Linh Mạch intensity measuring glass," Lỗ Khắc Viên replied, his voice a bit proud. "Developed by Khâm Vân Ti's own workshop, it is much more accurate than the traditional touchstones that your sect still uses. You will see, in just a few moments." Diệp Sương nodded, but her eyes did not leave those strange copper pipes, a vague feeling of wariness arose when she saw that they were so exquisitely crafted that they did not look like ordinary survey tools, but like a tool carefully invested for a purpose much greater than a routine inspection. Along the way, the group was silent for the most part, only the steady sound of horse hooves hitting the hard sand and the sound of the wind whistling through the jagged rocks on both sides of the trail, making Diệp Sương feel even more like she was stepping into something bigger than she could have anticipated.

*

The staked area is located about half a mile west of the observation station, a low-lying strip of land where the topsoil is unusually faded and the weeds are sparser than the surrounding areas despite sharing the same dry sun.

Six old wooden stakes were scattered in a strange arc, most of them had rotted, leaving only the roots buried deep in the ground, a few engraved trees still had faintly recognizable symbols that had faded over the years.

Lỗ Khắc Viên walked closer to a stake, bent down to observe carefully, his finger lightly gliding over the faint engraving. "This type of symbol," he muttered, his voice unreadable, "is quite old. I don't recognize this sample from any of Khâm Vân Ti's recent surveys."

"Don't you realize, sir?" Diệp Sương asked, trying to keep her voice calm even though she silently noted the hesitation that flashed across his face. "I thought, with your position, you must be familiar with every type of marker the court has ever used."

"The court has had many generations of Supervisors, many times of reform of survey standards," Lỗ Khắc Viên replied, standing up straight and brushing his hands. "Old pile models are replaced, old records are sometimes lost over time, which is not unusual in a large organization like Khâm Vân Ti." The answer sounded reasonable, but Diệp Sương still felt there was something forced in the way he spoke, like someone who was trying to explain things rather than being truly confused.

*

Thanh Việt, standing a few steps away, suddenly frowned, one hand raised to gently rub his temple.

"What's wrong with you?" Diệp Sương walked forward nervously.

"It's okay," he replied, his voice low. "It's just… the familiar feeling comes again, stronger than last time." He closed his eyes for a moment, as if trying to grasp something invisible passing by. "It's not like the feeling of the Linh Mạch naturally weakening in the Hạn Thủy ravine. This place is like... an old cut, healed but still leaving scars. It's like someone once pulled a large amount of energy out of here, for a long time, then stopped suddenly."

"Withdraw for what?" Diệp Sương asked softly.

"I don't know," Thanh Việt admitted, opening his eyes, his gaze unusually serious. "But if my feeling is correct, then this is not a natural weak spot like the Hạn Thủy ravine. This is the mark of a deliberate action."

Lỗ Khắc Viên, standing not far away, seemed to have heard part of the conversation and turned to look at the two people with unpredictable eyes. "This disciple has the ability to sense Linh Mạch with his body's intuition?" he asked, his voice filled with unusual concern. "Interesting. That kind of talent is rare, even among Khâm Vân Ti's professional surveyors."

"Just a little sensitive family heirloom," Thanh Việt replied, his voice cold, clearly not wanting to say more.

*

While the survey team was busy measuring and taking notes around the pile area, Diệp Sương took advantage of Lỗ Khắc Viên's back and walked closer to where Chúc Nghi Lam was diligently copying the shape of the symbols engraved on the pile onto a thin sheet of paper.

"Do you recognize this font?" she asked softly, her voice deliberately friendly.

Chúc Nghi Lam was startled, almost dropped her pen, looked around before answering, her voice lowered to almost a breath. "I… may have seen it once," she said, her hands still shaking slightly. "When I first started working as a clerk, I was assigned to reorganize the old file warehouse. There was a row of sealed cabinets with the name of a disbanded department — the Special Coordination Line. The symbols on the papers in there... were exactly like this."

"Special Coordination Line?" Diệp Sương repeated, trying to remember every word. "What part?"

"I don't know clearly," Chúc Nghi Lam replied, her eyes constantly glancing towards Lỗ Khắc Viên. "I just heard that it was disbanded a long time ago, before I started working. I once asked an older secretary about it, only to be immediately scolded, told to never mention that name again, even internally." She stopped, took a breath. "I shouldn't tell you this. Please don't let it be known that I did."

"I promise," Diệp Sương replied, her heart beating much faster.

*

At noon, the whole group stopped to rest under the shade of the only large rock in the area, quickly eating the dry food they brought along. Lỗ Khắc Viên sat far away, chatting with two survey soldiers about the numbers recorded from the new measuring device. His voice showed a hint of satisfaction when mentioning the intensity of Linh Mạch remaining around the pile area - much higher than initially predicted.

Diệp Sương sat next to Thanh Việt, eating in silence, her mind reeling from the phrase Chúc Nghi Lam had just whispered. Special Coordination Line. A name that sounds harmless and administrative, but is forbidden to be mentioned to the point where a newbie who doesn't even understand what's going on is scolded just for asking.

"What do you think?" Thanh Việt asked softly, noticing her pensive look.

Diệp Sương told him what Chúc Nghi Lam had said, her voice as low as possible even though no one around was paying attention. After listening, Thanh Việt was silent for a long time, his eyes looking towards the old stakes standing quietly in the middle of the barren land.

"If a department used to exist just to do this," he said slowly, "and it's disbanded and erased to the point that no one in the industry is even mentioned by name, then that's not an ordinary administrative error. It's something that's been deliberately buried."

"But who ordered the burial?" Diệp Sương asked, her voice gradually fading. "Khâm Vân Ti erased their own traces? Or did someone from the outside force them to do so?"

No one could answer that question. The noon wind blew across the lowland, carrying a few fine grains of sand flying across the surface of the rotten stakes, as if this land itself was trying to keep a secret that had been dormant for too long.

*

Late in the afternoon, when the survey team packed up their equipment and prepared to return to the pass, Lỗ Khắc Viên approached Diệp Sương, his expression returning to its usual calm expression.

"A useful trip," he said. "I will have it fully noted in the report. Thank you for leading the way."

"What do you intend to do with these stakes?" Diệp Sương asked directly.

"Not decided yet," Lỗ Khắc Viên replied, his eyes becoming as unpredictable as the morning. "But I think this area deserves to be studied more closely, not just stopping at a short survey." He stopped and looked straight at her. "I will come back here again, lady. Soon."

That sentence, even though spoken in the gentlest tone, still made Diệp Sương shiver all the way back to the pass, like a promise carrying more unsaid things than what was expressed.

*

That night, after the group of guests had retired to the guest house prepared specifically for them, Diệp Sương and Thanh Việt went to the command room and told Sầm Nguyên Trạch everything they had seen and heard throughout the day.

The commander sat silently listening to everything, his hands clasped together on the table, his face gradually becoming serious. "Special Coordination Line," he repeated, his voice thoughtful. "I've been in the military for more than twenty years and have never heard of this name, even though I was stationed in many places where Khâm Vân Ti operates."

"That's probably why it was hidden so well," Thanh Việt said. "The more secret a department is, the less people know about it, the easier it is for everything it has ever done to be buried without anyone speaking up."

"So what are you guys going to do next?" Sầm Nguyên Trạch asked, his eyes shifting from one person to the other.

Diệp Sương was silent for a moment, considering each word before responding. "I want to write a letter back to Elder Tạ Vân Khê as soon as possible," she said. "But I'm also worried that if the letter goes through the regular military post route, it may fall into the wrong hands, like the appendix to the previous report."

"I will help you find a more reliable messenger," Sầm Nguyên Trạch said, his voice determined. "Not through official dispatch. I have some old acquaintances in the military, people I trust with my life."

Diệp Sương bowed her head in gratitude, her heart both relieved and heavy—relieved because she was no longer alone in this, and heavy because she realized more and more that what they were touching could be much greater than what a newly promoted outer-sect disciple like her had ever imagined.