Chapter 65 — The Talisman Painter Who Guards the Village

Words of the Ancients

Half a month passed. Diệp Sương built a small hut at the edge of the forbidden forest, where Lãnh Vũ allowed her to stay. Every day she met Miên Trà to learn simple ink drawing, while other Vụ Ẩn creatures sometimes stopped to observe from afar before retreating when discovered. Faith, as Lãnh Vũ once said, did not come quickly, but it did not stand still forever.

"What do outsiders call this forest?" Diệp Sương asked Miên Trà one afternoon, when the two sat on the bank of a small clear stream flowing between ancient trees.

"We call it Thâm Vụ Forest," Miên Trà replied, still carefully shaping each stroke of the pen on the piece of tree bark according to Diệp Sương's instructions. "Dark means deep, Mist is the name of our clan — the place where the deepest fog has sheltered our clan from human eyes, since long ago."

*

One evening, Lãnh Vũ personally went to Diệp Sương's hut, sat down next to a small fire, his old eyes looked at the flickering fire for a long time before speaking.

"You have been here long enough to hear part of my clan's story," he said, his voice deep as if he were peeling back layers of old memories. "The Vụ Ẩn tribe did not live in seclusion like this. Many generations ago, our ancestors lived in harmony near human-cultivated lands, helping them chase away wild animals and warn them against disturbances in the Linh Mạch. Our senses are always much sharper than humans."

"So what made things change?" Diệp Sương asked softly, even though in her heart she vaguely guessed that the answer would not be easy to hear.

"A great demon tide, many generations ago," Lãnh Vũ replied, his voice heavy. "At that time, some of our clan, panicked by the violent disturbance of the Linh Mạch, accidentally caused harm to several nearby villages while losing control of their instincts. Humans, instead of finding out the reason, launched a hunt that lasted for many years, without distinguishing between the perpetrators and the innocent. Our clan was forced to retreat deep into the forest, hiding from the outside world, and so passed that fear down through each generation."

*

"I'm sorry," Diệp Sương said, her voice choked, "for what humans have done to your clan."

"You don't need to apologize on behalf of people you've never met," Lãnh Vũ replied, but his eyes softened a bit at the sincerity in her voice. "But I thank you for not trying to defend or deny. That is rare among your species." Miên Trà, sitting nearby and quietly listening from the beginning, suddenly spoke up, her voice was still immature but contained a curiosity as sharp as an adult's. "Chief, recently the eastern part of the forest has weakened faster than usual, is that true? I've heard the elders whispering about it these past few days." Lãnh Vũ frowned slightly, glanced at Miên Trà as if he didn't expect the child to care so much, then sighed and turned to Diệp Sương. "That's right. This is also part of the reason I wasn't in a hurry to chase you away in the first place. I wanted to see if you knew anything about this."

*

The next morning, Lãnh Vũ personally led Diệp Sương, along with Miên Trà and a still cautious Du Khinh to follow and supervise, to the eastern area of the forest - where the ground, different from the lushness in other places, became unusually dry, the trees were stunted, a few large ancient trees had died even though their roots were still buried deep in the ground.

"This place used to be one of the strongest Linh Mạch points in the forest," Lãnh Vũ said, his voice full of regret as he looked around at the devastated scene. "From about fifteen years ago, it began to weaken, right around the time our clan discovered strange wooden markers scattered around this area, bearing symbols we could not understand."

Diệp Sương walked closer to one of the dead trees and knelt down, her hand gently touching the dry, cracked soil. A cold feeling ran down her spine—a familiar feeling she had experienced when standing before abandoned survey stakes near Hạn Thủy ravine in Tiêu Sa Pass many years ago.

*

"Are there any wooden stakes left?" she asked, her voice becoming urgent.

Du Khinh, for the first time speaking to her without a hostile tone, led her to a nearby bush, pushed aside the rotting leaves, and revealed a rotten wooden stake buried deep in the ground. Part of the symbol engraved on it was still recognizable even though it had mostly faded over time.

Diệp Sương stared at the symbol, her heart pounding. She could not read it completely, but the angular engravings—the official script used to measure and delineate the area—were familiar. She had seen this type of writing before on the pieces of paper that Chúc Nghi Lam had risked her life to copy from the archives of the Khâm Vân Ti survey team at Tiêu Sa Pass, pieces bearing the name of a secret unit: the Special Coordination Line.

"This..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "This is proof. It's not just Tiêu Sa Pass. They used to exploit this whole place."

Du Khinh stood nearby, his face, which had always looked cautious, now showed an unconcealed shock. "For many years, our clan has thought that this land is naturally weak, a part of the laws of heaven and earth that no one can resist," he said, his voice becoming lower. "None of us ever thought there was a human hand behind this."

"That's also the reason why for so many years, no one spoke up, no one investigated to the end," Diệp Sương replied, her voice bitter. "Whoever caused this always cleverly made every trace look like a natural disaster, like natural misfortune, so that no one would suspect there was a real conspiracy behind it."

*

"Do you know what these wooden stakes are?" Lãnh Vũ asked immediately, his sharp eyes could not hide his tension.

Diệp Sương recounted everything she and Thanh Việt had discovered at Tiêu Sa Pass—the abandoned survey poles near the Hạn Thủy ravine, the Special Coordination Line, and the suspicion that someone, perhaps within the ranks of the sect elders or Khâm Vân Ti mandarins, had secretly over-exploited the Linh Mạch at many points across Cửu Vân for years, pushing neighboring lands into gradual depletion and causing more and more disturbances.

Lãnh Vũ listened in silence, his old face becoming more and more heavy. "If what you say is true," he said at last, his voice low like a bell echoing from the depths of the abyss, "then this is not just a matter for my clan, or just you. This is a wound that is silently spreading throughout this land, and if no one stops it in time, I fear that what is about to erupt will no longer be an ordinary demon tide."

He turned to look at Du Khinh, his eyes carrying a decision that had just been made. "From today, you and several younger warriors will patrol this area every day, recording every change, no matter how small. If humans are really causing this, our clan needs to know more than anyone else, before it's too late."

Du Khinh bowed his head to receive the order, but before turning away, he stopped and looked at Diệp Sương for a moment. "I still don't completely trust humans," he said, his voice still reserved but no longer as harsh as when they first met, "but I believe what my eyes just saw in Miên Trà's arm, and what you just pointed out here. That's the beginning, nothing more, nothing less."

*

That night, sitting alone by the fire, Diệp Sương spread out the old map she still carried—the map Thanh Việt had shown her on their first night at Tiêu Sa Pass—in front of her, trying to add the location of Thâm Vụ Forest to the known suspicious points. The distance between Tiêu Sa Pass and Thâm Vụ Forest was not small, yet both bore traces of the same hand and the same conspiracy.

Miên Trà quietly sat down next to her and studied the map full of intricate markings. "What are you worried about?" she asked, her voice innocent but full of concern.

"I'm worried," Diệp Sương replied, her voice soft, her hand still not leaving the map, "that the evil you once thought was limited to only a small corner of the world, is actually much bigger than I ever imagined. And I'm afraid, I alone, even with the help of your whole clan, won't be enough to stop it."

*

Miên Trà held Diệp Sương's hand, her warm little hands were different from the coldness of the deep forest night mist. "The patriarch told me, one tree alone cannot make a forest, but many trees growing together will keep an entire land from slipping away. You are not alone, Ms. Sương. There is my clan, there is the Rễ Bàng Hamlet, and there are friends you always talk about."

Diệp Sương looked at Miên Trà, a warm smile gradually appearing on her lips even though her heart was still heavy with worry. She folded the map, put it carefully against her chest as if storing a growing responsibility on her shoulders, then looked up at the rare night sky revealed between the gaps in the foliage, where a few distant stars still shone despite all the changes taking place below.