Chapter 55 — The Talisman Painter Who Guards the Village

Who Believes, Who Doesn't

The three days of waiting before the official trial passed slowly as if time itself was holding its breath, and in that silence, the entire Tông Vân Các seemed to be divided into many small pieces, each piece carrying a different attitude towards the shocking news about Diệp Sương.

Âu Bội Nhi was the first person to try to visit her at the detention center, using all sorts of excuses — bringing food, bringing warm blankets, even pretending to be the person sent to check her health — until a supervisory disciple softened his heart and let her in for a few short minutes.

"The whole sect is now divided into three factions," Âu Bội Nhi said, her voice choked as she sat beside Diệp Sương through the bars of the cell door. "One side believes you completely without needing further evidence. Another, mostly people already prejudiced against your background, immediately believes the accusations and even adds to them. The rest, the largest faction, stays silent, waiting to see how the trial turns out before daring to speak."

*

"What about you?" Diệp Sương asked softly, even though she already knew the answer.

"I don't need to wait for any trial," Âu Bội Nhi replied immediately, holding her hand tightly through the bars. "I've known you since the first day of initiation, know you better than anyone. You're not someone who would betray anything she believes in."

Diệp Sương squeezed her hand, a rare warmth in those cold days. "Thank you," she said, her voice shaking. "Just knowing that there are still people who believe in me makes me feel much stronger."

*

Chung Nhã Trúc also tried to visit on the second day, carrying the clearly tired face of someone who spent a sleepless night scouring the sect looking for any clues that could exonerate Diệp Sương.

"I asked everyone I knew who was stationed at Tiêu Sa Pass," she said, her voice filled with disappointment. "No one has ever heard of the name Úc Bá Tuyền. That doesn't mean he's lying completely, maybe he was only recently deployed, but it makes me even more suspicious."

"Senior sister, be careful," Diệp Sương said, worried about her senior sister who risked so much for her. "Don't let yourself get into trouble just because of me."

"Don't worry about me," Chung Nhã Trúc replied, her voice determined. "I made a promise to you from the first night you returned — if I had to choose, I would choose to stand with the truth. I will not take back that promise."

She paused for a moment, lowering her voice further. "I also tried to meet with the Grand Master personally, asking him to review the authenticity of the testimony from Úc Bá Tuyền before the official trial. He listened to my statement, nodded, but made no specific promises. I can't read what you're thinking, Sương. That's what makes me most insecure in all of this."

"Senior sister, do you think the Sect Master is involved?" Diệp Sương asked softly, her voice full of hesitation.

"I don't know," Chung Nhã Trúc admitted, shaking her head. "You have always been a symbol of justice to me since I was a child. But now, I realize, perhaps I never really understood what you were thinking behind that calm appearance."

*

But not everyone could maintain such a steadfast attitude. Diệp Sương heard through Âu Bội Nhi's story that Nhiêu Bá Tường, although he had implicitly reminded her to be careful before everything happened, now chose to remain completely silent, neither speaking out in her defense nor participating in the attack, a neutrality that left Diệp Sương both disappointed and understanding - he was a novice, did not have enough political power to oppose the whole council, and perhaps that silence was all he dared to do in this situation.

A few junior disciples, who once admired her after her victories at Linh Căn temple and Tiêu Sa Pass, now avoided her eyes every time they passed by the detention area, not because they believed the accusations, but simply because they were afraid of being implicated if they publicly expressed their support.

There was a young outer sect disciple, a boy who was bullied by Wei Bá Tuân in class one year, and Thanh Việt defended him, secretly leaving a small folded piece of paper and stuffing it through the crack in the cell door one night when no one noticed. Diệp Sương opened it and saw only a few scribbled words: "I believe in you. I don't dare say it out loud, but I believe in you." She hugged the piece of paper to her chest, tears suddenly flowing from her eyes - not because of despair, but because she was touched by a small, silent kindness that did not ask for recognition, amidst a sea of shy and evasive looks.

*

On the third day, something unexpected happened when Wei Bá Tuân himself appeared in front of the cell door late in the afternoon, unaccompanied by anyone, with a restless appearance that was different from his aggressive attitude at the previous meeting.

"What are you doing here?" Diệp Sương asked, her voice wary.

"I just want to ask you a straightforward question," Wei Bá Tuân said, his voice somewhat difficult as if he was overcoming his own pride. "You swear, is it true that you have nothing to do with monsters?"

"I swear," Diệp Sương replied, looking straight into his eyes. "With everything I have ever learned from Mr. Tám Mực, from Mrs. Chín Lài, from my own conscience."

*

Wei Bá Tuân was silent for a long time, his eyes were complex and unpredictable. "I don't like you," he said finally, his voice as blunt as ever. "I've been jealous of you since day one, because you have a talent that I have to try my whole life to reach, while you get it so naturally that it's unfair. But I..." He hesitated, his teeth clenched. "I don't think you are a traitor. That meeting, I just spoke on impulse, without thinking clearly."

"Then why didn't you say that before the council?" Diệp Sương asked, unable to hide her bitterness.

"Because I'm a coward," Wei Bá Tuân replied, his voice choked by the admission. "My family has too many expectations, I don't have the courage to openly side with someone who is suspected by the whole council. I can only tell you this, in the dark, where no one can see."

*

Diệp Sương looked at him, a complicated feeling rising - not completely forgiving, but not as resentful as before. “At least you came here to say it,” she said softly. "That's also precious, in its own way." Wei Bá Tuân nodded, didn't say anything more, turned and left before anyone else saw him standing there, leaving Diệp Sương alone with chaotic thoughts about how people's hearts, even those who were once considered the most antagonistic, can still contain gray areas that are much more complex than what the outside shows.

*

The last night before the trial, Thanh Việt tried every way to meet her once, and in the end had to rely on Tạ Vân Khê's direct intervention to be allowed to stand and talk through the bars for a few short minutes.

"Tomorrow," he said, his voice shaking with suppressed emotion, "no matter the outcome, I want you to know, I trust you absolutely, without a shadow of a doubt."

"I know," Diệp Sương replied, holding his hand through the cold iron bars. "Just knowing that, I'm strong enough to face whatever tomorrow brings."

Thanh Việt squeezed his hand tightly, his eyes filled with fierce determination. "I will find out who is behind all of this," he vowed, his voice quiet but sharp. "No matter how long it takes, no matter what the cost."

That night, when Thanh Việt was forced to leave according to curfew, Diệp Sương sat alone in the dark, her hand still warm with his hand, her heart both comforted and heavy with a premonition that tomorrow, no matter what happened, her life would never be the same again.

She took out the small piece of paper from the anonymous disciple, read it again under the dim moonlight filtering through the bars, then took the silver cloth that Chung Nhã Trúc secretly brought and the handkerchief Âu Bội Nhi left behind from her previous visit, folded them neatly beside her like a small fence against the loneliness that was threatening to swallow her in the darkness.

She thought of the story Mrs. Chín Lài once told about the Vụ Ẩn tribe, about the gentle creatures who were unfairly shunned by humans simply because of their differences, and wondered if now, she herself was also experiencing a small part of that injustice - being seen through the lens of fear and prejudice, instead of what she really was. That thought, although bitter, also brought a strange sympathy, as if she had just understood a part of the lesson that perhaps fate had arranged for her to go through on her own before she could truly understand it, a lesson that no teacher in the sect had ever taught her and that could only be learned through her own pain.