Chapter 96 — The Talisman Painter Who Guards the Village

Paths to Healing

Two seasons have passed since the day Quán Lai Mặc opened the first class, Diệp Sương and the first class students have become strong enough to begin field trips, bringing the symbiotic healing method to places where Linh Mạch still has aftershocks from many years of illegal mining.

The first trip took the group to Thâm Vụ Forest, where wooden stakes marking the secret of the Special Coordination Line had been embedded for many years. Miên Trà, now one of Diệp Sương's most effective teaching assistants, led the way through familiar paths, showing the other students the weakened traces still left on tree trunks and on the ground.

The Thâm Vụ Forest is now much greener again compared to what Diệp Sương witnessed on her first trip with elder Tạ Vân Khê, but somewhere there are still bare lands, dry tree stumps that refuse to bud even after many rainy seasons, like old scars that have not completely healed on the body of the forest itself.

*

"Here," Diệp Sương said, kneeling next to an old tree and placing her hand on the rough bark, "the Linh Mạch was once seriously depleted, to the point that an entire area of trees could not flower for many years. Feel it first; don't rush to draw. Listen to its rhythm before deciding on the first stroke."

The three young men from the Vụ Ẩn clan who had studied in the first course, now much more proficient, knelt down together, each in charge of a small weak point within the forest. Each ink line gradually appeared on the bark and the ground. The lines were not uniform; each person had their own style, but all carried the same philosophy - listen before acting.

*

Lãnh Vũ, watching from afar with Du Khinh, could not hide his pride when seeing the young people of his clan now able to single-handedly mend the land where their ancestors had lived for many generations.

"I never thought that one day our clan would not only receive help from humans, but could also contribute to healing themselves," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "That is the greatest gift you have ever brought us, greater than what you did at the Khuyết Nguyên Abyss last year."

*

After three days staying in Thâm Vụ Forest, the group continued their journey to Tiêu Sa Pass, where Captain Sầm Nguyên Trạch warmly welcomed them, leading the group straight to Hạn Thủy ravine - a place that had almost swallowed both the pass citadel and village of Diêm Cốc in the past.

"Since the day you mended Khuyết Nguyên Abyss," Sầm Nguyên Trạch said, standing and looking at the clear water flowing peacefully through the ravine, completely different from the violent image of last year, "this place has never had another significant upheaval. People in the area now dare to grow crops near the edge of the ravine, something they did not dare to do for many years before."

*

In Diêm Cốc village, Little Tơ, now much older than the first time Diệp Sương met her, rushed out to welcome the group with a thick stack of drawing paper in her hand, showing off each talisman she had been practicing drawing for the past two years.

"Teacher, can you see if my drawing is progressing?" she asked, her eyes bright with hope.

Diệp Sương looked through each piece of paper and realized that although the drawings were still clumsy, they had made clear progress compared to what she had imagined. "Great progress," she said, patting her head. "Are you ready to enroll officially in Quán Lai Mặc?"

Little Tơ shouted with joy and hugged Diệp Sương, making the whole group unable to help but laugh at that pure joy.

*

Mr. Mười Khoan, who raised Little Tơ all these years, stood looking at that scene with teary eyes. "I never dared to dream that the orphan girl I picked up and raised would have the opportunity to study properly like other children," he said, his voice choked up. "Thank you for not forgetting a small promise to a child in a remote place like this."

*

Not every trip goes smoothly. In a distant western land, where Linh Mạch had been weakened for so long that it was almost calloused, for the first time, the formation of one of the Vụ Ẩn clan's students failed completely, causing the group to retreat at night to avoid a fierce resistance from the chaotic energy source.

That night, the whole group set up a temporary camp a safe distance from that land, no one could sleep fully, their ears were still ringing from the roar of the protesting energy as they retreated. Diệp Sương sat next to a small fire, looking at the flickering fire reflected in the eyes of each student who was still in shock.

"What did I do wrong?" the student asked, his voice full of self-blame as the group stopped to rest not far away, still in shock.

"You're not wrong," Diệp Sương replied, sitting down beside the student, her voice patient. "There are wounds that are too deep, too old, that cannot be healed with just one try. I have failed many times with wounds much smaller than this. Even at the Khuyết Nguyên Abyss, I only succeeded after learning from countless previous failures."

The group returned to that area three more times in the months that followed, each time adjusting their approach slightly, until they finally found the right rhythm to soothe that calloused wound. The lesson of patience, of accepting failure as an inevitable part of the process, has become an indispensable part of the curriculum at Quán Lai Mặc ever since.

*

The journey continued through many seasons, taking Diệp Sương and her students to one land after another across Cửu Vân—places once affected by the Special Coordination Line, places where Linh Mạch had been weakened by natural disasters, and places that no one from the Tông Vân Các had visited for decades because they were too remote and secluded.

In each place, the symbiotic healing method is slightly adjusted to suit the unique characteristics of each land and each community, exactly like the core philosophy that Diệp Sương always emphasizes to her students - there is no single fixed formula, only ceaseless listening.

*

One evening, when the whole group stopped to rest at a roadside station, Chung Nhã Trúc, now the main person in charge at Cảnh Linh Đài, sent a letter reporting the general situation throughout Cửu Vân.

"The number of demon tides recorded in the past two years has decreased by more than seven-tenths compared to the same period in previous years," the letter said. "Observation stations across the kingdom have confirmed that Linh Mạch stability is gradually returning to the best state recorded in decades."

*

Diệp Sương read the letter under the flickering oil lamplight, a quiet but profound happiness rising in her heart. She remembered the first night she had drawn the An Mien talisman on tree bark, remembered what Mr. Tám Mực had taught about ink being precious in the artist's heart rather than in the place it was bought, and realized that the journey from that one small drawing had now spread into real change for an entire kingdom.

Thanh Việt, sitting opposite the small campfire, looked at her with respectful eyes. “Did you know,” he said softly, “that you did what no elder in all the history of Tông Vân Các had ever done—changed the way an entire kingdom viewed the very source of power that nourished it?”

Diệp Sương smiled and folded the letter carefully. "I didn't do it alone," she replied, looking around at the students sleeping around the fire, her companions who had gone through so many journeys with her. "And I think that's exactly why it's successful, where previous solo efforts failed."

*

Miên Trà, although she thought she was fast asleep, suddenly spoke from the fire, her voice still sleepy. "Sister Sương, I heard that Quán Lai Mặc now has more than two hundred students enrolled, from all over Cửu Vân. Are you afraid that one day, that place will be so big that you won't be able to remember all the faces of your students anymore?"

Diệp Sương was silent for a moment, looking up at the starry sky above her head and contemplating the unexpected question. "Perhaps there will be such a day," she admitted. "But I think the important thing is not that I remember every single face, but that each person, when leaving Quán Lai Mặc, carries the same philosophy—listen before acting, heal before suppressing—and passes it on to others in places we may never have the opportunity to reach." Thanh Việt nodded and reignited the dying fire. "Like the first stroke of ink, spreading into a whole page, then into a whole book, but none of us can predict how far it will go."

Diệp Sương looked up at the crackling campfire, the orange-yellow light shining on the faces of the sleeping students nearby, and thought of Mr. Tám Mực, of Mrs. Chín Lài, of Tạ Vân Khê - those who sowed, each in their own way, the first seeds for all that is blooming today.

The whole group fell into a warm silence, with only the sound of the crackling fire and the chirping of insects in the night. Each person carried a quiet belief in what was being planted, even though the full results would probably have to wait for many generations to see.