Chapter 57 — The Talisman Painter Who Guards the Village

The Price of Honor

Two days after the trial, a letter bearing the seal of the General's Palace from the capital Lệ Dương was delivered to Thanh Việt right in the middle of the training session, making his face pale as soon as he read the first few lines.

He found Diệp Sương under house arrest as soon as possible, looking tense and different from usual, his hand still clutching the crumpled letter.

"What's going on?" Diệp Sương asked, worried when she saw his expression.

*

"My father wrote," Thanh Việt said, his voice trembling with restraint, "that news of your case has spread to the capital through unofficial channels. Some people in the court have begun to question the fact that General Cố Bạt Nguyên's son publicly sided with a disciple accused of colluding with demons. My father warned that if I continue to publicly defend you, it could be used to attack his own position in the court, amid factions competing for influence over Linh Mạch exploitation policy."

Diệp Sương read the letter again over Thanh Việt's shoulder. The sharp, politically calculated words of an experienced general appeared clearly, different from the image of a strict but loving father that Thanh Việt had once described. "A family's military career is not something that can be rebuilt from scratch in just one generation," the letter said. "I don't forbid you to do what you think is right, but you need to understand the cost and consider whether it is worth it or not."

Diệp Sương was silent, a cold feeling spreading throughout her body. "So what are you going to do?" she asked softly, trying to keep her voice calm even though her heart was prepared for the worst.

"I don't know," Thanh Việt admitted, his voice choked. "I have never faced such a difficult choice — between my family's honor, my father's future, and..." He paused, not finishing his sentence, but the look in his eyes said it all.

*

"You don't have to choose right now," Diệp Sương said, even though her heart ached. "I understand, your family also has its own burdens, I can't ask you to sacrifice everything for me."

"Don't say that," Thanh Việt interrupted, his voice suddenly becoming determined. "I will not die for you. I stand by the truth, and that truth, incidentally, is that you are innocent. If my father cannot accept that, then that is his problem, not mine."

Diệp Sương looked at him, a mixture of emotion and fear rising at the same time. "But what if it really affects your father's position?"

"I will find another way to protect both things," Thanh Việt replied, his voice fierce. "I will write a letter to explain clearly to my father, presenting everything we have discovered. If you are truly as impartial as I believe, you will understand why I cannot stay silent."

He sat down right there, borrowed pen and paper from Diệp Sương, and wrote a long letter to the capital. His hands shook slightly but his handwriting still maintained the familiar neatness. Diệp Sương sat quietly next to him, watching him write, feeling both touched and sad knowing that every word he was writing carried a risk for his own future.

"How do you think your father will react?" he asked softly when he paused writing.

"I don't know," Thanh Việt admitted, putting down his pen and rubbing his face tiredly. "My father was a complicated man. He was strict, valuing family honor above most things, but he also taught me that a true soldier should never turn a blind eye to injustice simply because he is afraid of the consequences. I only hope that, when reading this letter, he will remember what he once taught me."

*

But that same night, another incident happened, pushing everything into a much more urgent situation. Sầm Nguyên Trạch's messenger, sent to bring official testimony confirming what happened at Tiêu Sa Pass, was discovered lying unconscious on the side of the road not far from the foot of Vân Tiêu mountain, covered in injuries, his luggage was ransacked, and important letters disappeared without a trace.

This news reached Diệp Sương through Âu Bội Nhi the next morning, shocking her so badly that she could barely stand.

"Is that person okay?" she asked immediately, her voice trembling.

"Still alive, but seriously injured, currently being treated," Âu Bội Nhi replied, her face equally pale. "But the letter of confirmation from General Sam, which could have exonerated you, has been lost."

*

Diệp Sương sat down, feeling as if all hope had just been taken away before her eyes. "Who did this?" she asked, her voice choked with anger and despair.

"No one knows," Âu Bội Nhi replied, holding her hand tightly. "But clearly, this was not a random robbery. Someone knew exactly what the messenger was carrying and deliberately blocked the road right before he reached the sect."

This news quickly spread to Húc Bá Nguyên, who immediately took advantage of the opportunity and convened an emergency meeting of the council on the same day, citing that the fact that "exculpatory evidence kept mysteriously disappearing" only further proved that there was a force seeking to protect Diệp Sương through improper means, raising doubts about the true innocence of the entire incident.

Tất Bá Kỳ, upon hearing this news, tried to sneak in to meet Diệp Sương briefly, his face full of suppressed anger. "This is a blatantly fallacious argument," he said, his voice low. "But I must admit, it was very effective against a confused council. Be careful, Húc Bá Nguyên is playing a game of chess that he has calculated many steps in advance."

"Did you find anything else?" Diệp Sương asked, still not giving up hope.

"I'm trying," Tất Bá Kỳ replied, "but every door seems to be gradually closing. I can only advise you one thing — no matter the outcome tonight, never let yourself believe that what you discovered is wrong. You have touched on a truth big enough to cause people to react so violently."

*

"This is a blatant slander against ourselves!" Tạ Vân Khê objected vehemently when she heard about the upcoming emergency meeting, and found Diệp Sương that afternoon to report the news. "Húc Bá Nguyên is turning the situation around, turning your evidence being stolen into evidence against you."

"So what do we do now?" Diệp Sương asked, feeling exhausted both physically and mentally.

"I will fight to the end in tonight's meeting," Tạ Vân Khê said, her voice determined even though her eyes could not hide her anxiety. "But you have to prepare yourself mentally, Diệp Sương. I don't dare to promise what the outcome will be."

*

That night, before the emergency meeting, Thanh Việt looked for her one last time, his face carrying a new fierceness completely different from the morning's hesitation.

"I've decided," he said, holding her hand tightly. "I will stand up and speak at tonight's meeting, openly and clearly, regardless of the consequences for my father's position. I cannot let you face this alone just because I am afraid of family pressure."

"Are you sure?" Diệp Sương asked, tears suddenly welling up in her eyes. "I don't want you to pay the price because of me."

"I'm sure," Thanh Việt replied, his voice unwavering. "There are prices worth paying, Sương. And true honor is not about keeping your position at court at all costs, but about daring to stand up for what you believe is right, even if it costs you."

Diệp Sương hugged him, unable to say another word, simply letting the tears fall silently onto his shoulders, carrying both fear and immeasurable gratitude.

"No matter what happens tonight," she whispered into his shoulder, "I will never forget which side you chose to take, no matter how great the cost may be."

"Me too," Thanh Việt replied, tightening his arms around her. "No matter the outcome, I don't regret anything."

Outside the window, the bell signaling the council meeting rang throughout Vân Tiêu Peak, like a fateful sound that both knew would shape much of their lives. Thanh Việt let go of her hand, stood straight, and adjusted the hem of his shirt. When he turned to look at her one last time, his eyes held a determination Diệp Sương had never seen before, as if the soft, shy part of him that had feared family pressure had been left behind the threshold of the room.