Chapter 97 — The Talisman Painter Who Guards the Village

Things That Need No Words

The Linh Đài scene in the late afternoon was more deserted than usual. Most of the on-duty disciples had left after handing over their shifts, leaving only the sunset dyeing the western sky orange, stretching across the induction stone whose color had now stabilized for many months, completely different from the rapid fluctuations of many years ago.

Diệp Sương sat on the familiar stone steps, where she and Thanh Việt had spent countless night shifts when they were outer sect disciples, holding a cup of cooled tea in her hand, looking down at Vân Tiêu Peak immersed in the sunset.

The touchstone next to her glowed a gentle blue, so steady that it was almost completely quiet, unlike the nights he had sat here with his heart pounding at each irregular color change that signaled danger. The afternoon breeze blew through the observatory, carrying with it the familiar scent of wildflowers that had become an indispensable part of this place, like a familiar greeting every time they returned.

*

Thanh Việt walked over and sat down next to her as he had done hundreds of times before, but today something in his appearance caught her attention - an unusual pensiveness, his hands loosely clasped on his knees.

"Are you okay?" she asked, turning to look at him.

"I'm fine," he replied, but his voice was still a bit forced. "I was just thinking about how long it has been since we sat here for the first time, when we were both fifteen- or sixteen-year-old kids who knew so little about the world outside."

*

"Many years ago," Diệp Sương replied, smiling nostalgically. "Long enough that we've both changed a lot, in ways I never dared to imagine when I was a country kid who first set foot on this mountain top."

"But one thing has never changed," Thanh Việt said, turning to look straight at her, his eyes carrying a rarely seen seriousness. "Ever since the first night I sat here with you, watching the touchstone change color in silence, I knew I wanted to spend many more nights like this with you, even though I was too young to understand what that feeling meant."

*

Diệp Sương was silent, her heart beating faster even though she had partly guessed what was about to be said. Thanh Việt put down the teacup and turned to look at her.

"All these years," Thanh Việt continued, his voice trembling slightly but remaining steadfast, "we have gone through battles together, pain, loss, and victories greater than anything I ever dared to dream of. I don't want to wait any longer, don't want to let responsibilities, missions, or anything else continue to delay what I've known for sure in my heart for so long."

Diệp Sương looked at him, realizing that her hand was shaking slightly in a way she had never experienced, even in the most dangerous moments they had faced together. It was both funny and touching to think that the man who had once faced the Khuyết Nguyên Abyss's energy tentacles without blinking was now confused by a simple confession of love.

*

He pulled out a small object from his pocket, not gorgeous jewelry like what noble people often give each other, but a simple brush, the handle was made from the same wood that grows around Cảnh Linh Đài, the tip was carefully sharpened with his own hands.

"I'm not as good at drawing spells as you are," he said, his voice a little shy, "but I think there is no more meaningful gift than a pen, for the person who taught me to understand that true power does not lie in imposing, but in listening and understanding. Sương, do you want to continue writing the remaining pages of your life with me, with this very pen, not as a teammate anymore, but as a life partner?"

*

Diệp Sương looked at the pen in her hand, tears suddenly welled up, not because of sadness like many times before during the long journey, but because of a complete, simple happiness, exactly like the way the love between the two had grown over the years - no noise, no dramatic climax, just quietly persistent like the night shifts at Cảnh Linh Đài.

"I want to," she replied, her voice shaking but firm, taking the pen from his hand. "Not because the responsibility is fulfilled, not because this is the right thing to do after all we've been through. But because, simply, this is what I want, for myself."

*

Thanh Việt squeezed his hand, a rare smile of relief spread across his lips, different from the serious look he usually wore in front of others. The two sat quietly together, without needing another word, as the sunset gradually turned dark purple, the first stars began to appear in the sky.

"I think," Thanh Việt said after a long moment of silence, "we don't need a fancy wedding. My father would definitely want a solemn, military-style ceremony, but I think a small, simple ceremony, with only the closest people, would suit both of us better."

*

"I agree," Diệp Sương replied, resting her head on his shoulder. "Perhaps this very place, on Cảnh Linh Đài, where everything between us began, will be the most suitable place to mark a new beginning."

They sat together until night fell completely, the twinkling starlight reflected on the now strangely peaceful touchstone, with no signs of instability from the tumultuous years that had passed.

*

News of the engagement spread quickly throughout the sect the next morning, although Diệp Sương and Thanh Việt had no intention of announcing it widely. Âu Bội Nhi was the first to hear and immediately ran to hug her friend, unable to hide her joy.

"The day has finally come," she said, laughing uncontrollably. "I've been waiting for this moment for a long time, since the first day I saw him stand up for you in the middle of the practice field."

*

Chung Nhã Trúc, Miên Trà, and even the students at Quán Lai Mặc also took turns sending their congratulations, each in their own way. Mrs. Chín Lài and Mr. Tám Mực, when receiving the news by mail, sent back a short letter, only a few words but causing Diệp Sương to read it over and over again: "I always believe that people who know how to draw charms to save people will also know how to choose the right person to love forever."

*

The engagement ceremony was held simply as both wanted, right at Cảnh Linh Đài on a late autumn afternoon, when the leaves around Vân Tiêu Peak began to turn bright yellow. There were no trumpets or drums, no lavish banquets, just a small circle of close friends gathered - Mrs. Chín Lài and Mr. Tám Mực, brought from Tùng Lĩnh Village; Cố Bạt Nguyên himself from Lệ Dương; Chung Nhã Trúc, Âu Bội Nhi, Miên Trà, Du Khinh, and Tất Bá Kỳ; and Chúc Nghi Lam and Ngộ Khắc Bình, who sent their congratulations along with a surprise gift: the complete set of documents officially restoring honor to Diệp Sương's parents, permanently archived at the reformed Khâm Vân Ti's new archive.

"This is the smallest thing we can do," Chúc Nghi Lam said, handing Diệp Sương a scroll with a solemn red seal. "So that your parents, even though they cannot be present today, still have a worthy place in the official history of the kingdom, no longer just anonymous numbers in some survey report."

*

Diệp Sương held the scroll, tears welled up again, but this time Thanh Việt was right next to her, his hand holding her hand tightly like a steady fulcrum. "Your parents, even though they can't witness this day," he said softly, "are certainly watching, proud of the daughter they left behind for this world."

The ceremony was simple — just a brief vow in front of witnesses, a small cup of wine poured out to share, and a small hand-drawn An Mien talisman that Diệp Sương gave to Thanh Việt, not to soothe sleep or repel mosquitoes as it was originally used, but as a symbol of their promise of lifelong commitment, carrying with it the symbiotic philosophy that had shaped her entire life.

*

"From now on," Diệp Sương said to the close people surrounding her, her voice choked but warm, "this talisman will no longer just mean to soothe a child to sleep. It will take on a new meaning, a reminder that the most lasting things in life do not need to be loud or big, they just need to be sincere and steadfast."

The whole group raised their cups, warm laughter rang out in the middle of the autumn afternoon on Vân Tiêu Peak, a rare moment of complete peace in the midst of a long and tumultuous journey, like a quiet promise for the years ahead, not a dramatic climax, but a quiet, worthy acknowledgment after all they had gone through together.

Miên Trà, much older than the first day she followed Diệp Sương out of Thâm Vụ Forest, stood raising a cup with everyone, her eyes shining with unconcealed joy. She thought about the long journey from a timid little girl in the deep forest until today, standing among the closest people of the person she considered her sister, and was secretly grateful that fate had brought her to this right place.

Diệp Sương folded the letter, placed it on the table next to the brush that Thanh Việt had just given her, looked out the window where the morning sunlight was spreading across Vân Tiêu Peak, her heart was filled with a complete peace that she had never dared to dream of during the past stormy years.