Chapter 44 — The Talisman Painter Who Guards the Village

Proposal

The small meeting hall of the Tiêu Sa Pass was filled with people that morning — Sầm Nguyên Trạch sat at the head of the table, Diệp Sương and Thanh Việt on one side, Lỗ Khắc Viên and two survey soldiers on the opposite side, Chúc Nghi Lam stood quietly in the corner of the room with a stack of papers in her hand.

"After carefully reviewing the measured data," Lỗ Khắc Viên began, his solemn voice different from his usual gentleness, "Khâm Vân Ti proposed implementing a large-scale 'stabilization' project at Hạn Thủy ravine, combined with the establishment of a transmission system around the old marker pile area."

"Stabilization," Diệp Sương repeated, trying to keep her voice calm. "Can you explain more clearly, what exactly is that?"

Lỗ Khắc Viên spread out a drawing on the table — intricate lines depicting a system of pipes and stone pillars surrounding the crack, connected to the old pile area by a red line.

"We will build a specialized spiritual network, channeling the excess energy from the Hạn Thủy ravine to a centralized point, helping to reduce pressure on the entire area," he explained, his voice monotonous as he had presented this plan countless times before. "At the same time, the collected energy can be reused to reinforce the talismans protecting the pass, instead of letting it freely flow out and cause disaster like the night of the last battle."

*

Diệp Sương was silent for a moment, eyes glued to the drawing as she tried to imagine how the system actually worked. She remembered the feeling Thanh Việt had described about the old stake area—a scar, a trace of prolonged energy withdrawal and then a sudden stop—and a cold premonition suddenly rose.

"Sir," she spoke up, trying to keep a polite but firm tone, "this plan, if I understand correctly, is essentially to channel a portion of the Linh Mạch from Hạn Thủy ravine to another gathering point, right? Not to heal the crack, but to exploit it."

"Those two things are not necessarily contradictory," Lỗ Khắc Viên replied, unfazed. "Stabilizing an overload point by draining excess energy is a proven method over generations of surveys."

"But is that exactly the method that was used at the old stake site, many years ago?" Diệp Sương asked directly, looking straight into his eyes. "And if that's true, why did that place become a barren, infertile land, while the Hạn Thủy ravine continued to weaken until it burst? If that method really worked, why was the result a demon tide that almost wiped out an entire village?"

The meeting hall fell silent. Sầm Nguyên Trạch looked at Lỗ Khắc Viên, waiting for an answer with an expression that couldn't hide his scrutiny.

*

"I cannot confirm that the construction at the old pile area has anything to do with this proposal," Lỗ Khắc Viên replied after a longer silence than usual, his voice slightly losing its familiar smoothness for the first time. "That is a story of the past, belonging to another period, other people. I only propose the best solution based on current knowledge."

"So why didn't you recognize the symbols engraved on those stakes, if they were really just a harmless thing from the past?" Diệp Sương continued to question, not backing down.

"Miss," Lỗ Khắc Viên said, his voice regaining some composure but containing a new bit of coldness, "I understand your concern for this land, which is precious. But I also hope you understand, this is the court's business, under Khâm Vân Ti's authority, not something that an inner disciple—no matter how talented—has the right to decide for." That sentence, even though said in a polite tone, still carried a clear line, like a door just closing between two people.

Thanh Việt, sitting next to him, spoke up, his voice calm but no less determined. "Sir, the Tiêu Sa Pass is currently under the joint control of the imperial army and Tông Vân Các. Any major project that affects the safety of this area requires the consent of both sides, and cannot be decided by Khâm Vân Ti alone." Sầm Nguyên Trạch nodded in agreement. "The general is right. We will need more time to consult before agreeing to any large-scale projects being implemented here." Lỗ Khắc Viên looked at all three people with an unpredictable expression, then nodded slightly. "Okay. I'll wait. But I hope you understand, time is not infinite. Hạn Thủy ravine won't wait forever before it bursts again."

He stood up, collected the drawing, and signaled Chúc Nghi Lam to pack up the papers. Before leaving the lobby, he stopped at the doorway and turned to look at Diệp Sương for a moment.

“You have an uncommonly sharp intuition,” he said, his voice unpredictable between compliment and something close to warning. "I hope it will lead you in the right direction, not cause you to fall into unfounded suspicions, wasting a wide-open future." Having finished speaking, he left, leaving the meeting hall in a heavy silence. Sầm Nguyên Trạch sighed and rubbed his forehead. "This person is not simple," he said. "The last sentence he said sounded like advice, but I heard it as a disguised threat."

"I think so too," Diệp Sương replied, her voice trembling slightly. "But I don't intend to back down just because of an insinuation."

*

In the afternoon, after a tense meeting, Diệp Sương asked for permission to check the area near the observation station alone, using the excuse of needing to calm down. Thanh Việt intended to go with her, but she shook her head slightly, wanting to have some time alone.

On the way, passing a small rock crevice not far from the observation post, she heard a soft, painful groan, different from the familiar sound of wind or insects. She stopped walking and cautiously approached, readying a protective talisman.

In the crack of the rock, a small creature, its body covered with thin light gray scales, was lying curled up, one hind leg was seriously injured, the blood had dried darkly around the cut. It was not like the ferocious demonic beast that had spilled out from the Hạn Thủy ravine on the night of the battle - only the size of a small dog, its big round eyes sparkled with fear rather than ferocity when it saw Diệp Sương appear.

*

Diệp Sương stood still for a moment, her heart beating fast because of surprise and a feeling of sadness that was hard to name. She remembered what Mrs. Chín Lài once taught about how to treat wounds for panicked wild animals - don't go straight, don't stare, just sit down slowly, keep your distance, let the animal decide for itself whether to trust her or not.

She sat down a few steps away from the creature, took out a small piece of cloth and the homemade ink stick she always carried, drew a simple An Mien talisman, letting it float gently in the air between the two sides, the gentle light radiating like an invitation instead of a threat.

The creature trembled for a moment, then gradually calmed down, its panicked eyes slowly closed, its breathing became slower. Diệp Sương cautiously moved closer, examined the wound, and used some pain relief medicine left in the bag to temporarily apply it.

She wasn't sure what species this was - it didn't quite match any description she had learned in the sect, perhaps a small species that lived in seclusion around the Hạn Thủy creek, injured while fleeing the chaos of the night of the battle or the noisy survey of the past few days.

She sat next to the animal for a long time, observing its steady breathing, suddenly remembering the story Mrs. Chín Lài had told by the fire years ago about the Vụ Ẩn tribe - creatures living hidden in the deep forest, unjustly shunned by humans just because of a few waves of demonic disasters, while most of them, according to the story, were as gentle as domestic animals. She wondered whether the small creature trembling in front of her also carried within itself a part of that injustice - being considered a threat just because of its unusual shape, when in fact it was just a living being trying to survive in a land that had suffered so much.

*

"I won't tell anyone," she whispered to the animal, her voice gentle as if reassuring a child. "But I can't bear to let you die here alone."

She decided to hide the animal in a discreet rock hole nearby, bringing food and water every day, telling herself it was only temporary, until the wound healed completely and she could release it back into the wild. She didn't tell this story to Sầm Nguyên Trạch or anyone else at the pass - partly because she was afraid of being misunderstood as condoning a potentially dangerous creature, partly because of a sense of privacy she couldn't explain, as if this was a secret that belonged only to her and Mr. Tám Mực, who had taught her that sometimes, compassion doesn't need anyone's approval to be worth it.

Only Thanh Việt, when he returned to the camp with her hands still stained with dried blood, was told the whole truth. His eyes did not blame her; he just quietly helped her prepare some more medicine for the next visit.

"You're always like that," he said softly, his voice rare and gentle. "Save it, even though no one asked."

Diệp Sương smiled, did not answer, and simply looked out at the distant rock crevice where the small creature lay recovering from its injuries, completely unaware that this small, silent action—a talisman drawn from pure compassion—would become a seed with consequences she could not foresee, hiding and waiting between the pages of the notebook she still carefully wrote in every night.