Chapter 98 — The Talisman Painter Who Guards the Village

Many Seasons Later

Fifteen years had passed since Diệp Sương and Thanh Việt married on Cảnh Linh Đài, and Vân Tiêu Peak had changed beyond the memories of those who witnessed those years. Quán Lai Mặc, once an empty space with a few simple wooden houses, had become a large architectural complex where hundreds of students from across Cửu Vân gathered every year, regardless of sect, frontier, or Vụ Ẩn clan.

The rustic wooden houses of yesteryear had been extended with many new corridors and tiled roofs covered in green moss. Yet the east-facing window frame in the main house remained in the original position Diệp Sương had chosen, so every morning the sunlight still shone at the same angle as it had on the first day.

Diệp Sương, her hair threaded with a few silver strands but her eyes still sharp and warm, stood on the main porch looking down at the courtyard, where an outdoor class was taking place beneath the shade of an old tree planted during the shop's first days.

*

"Master," a familiar voice rang out from behind, "the academic council has just sent a report: this year Quán Lai Mặc established three new branches, in the western border region, the south, and right in the heart of the capital Lệ Dương."

Diệp Sương turned around and saw Miên Trà, now an adult woman taking on the role of deputy manager of the entire Quán Lai Mặc system spread throughout Cửu Vân, holding a thick stack of documents.

*

"Three new branches in one year," Diệp Sương said, shaking her head slightly in surprise and pride. "I still remember, on the first day, there were only thirty students sitting on the ground with mats, everyone was afraid of making mistakes."

"Now, that number has reached thousands of students spread across every part of the kingdom," Miên Trà replied, smiling. "And according to the latest report from the Khâm Vân Ti Inspection Council, headed by Chúc Nghi Lam herself, the number of demon tides recorded over the past five years has dropped to the lowest level in recorded history."

*

Thanh Việt walked out of the house, his hair already gray but his calm presence unchanged, carrying a child of about five whose chubby face was full of mischief.

"Dad, dad, I can draw!" the child exclaimed, holding up a piece of paper with scribbled but excited drawings.

"Let me see," Diệp Sương said, taking the child from her husband's hands and looking at the paper with affectionate eyes. "My daughter draws very beautifully, Vân Nhi."

*

The child, named after the mountain where her parents had met and fallen in love, hugged Diệp Sương's neck and laughed. "I want to learn to draw spells like Mom, so that in the future I can go everywhere saving people like you."

"There's still a lot of time to learn, my dear," Diệp Sương replied, kissing her child's forehead, her heart filled with a simple happiness that she had never dared to dream of during the stormy years of her youth.

She looked at her daughter squirming in her arms, recognizing familiar features in those bright, curious eyes—the same look she had seen in the mirror during childhood, when every streak of charcoal and every drop of ink had carried an irresistible attraction.

*

That afternoon, the whole family and a few old friends gathered in the courtyard of Quán Lai Mặc to celebrate a special occasion — the fifteenth anniversary of its founding. Âu Bội Nhi, now married and with her own family in Lam Thủy Town, still visits often, bringing with her a basket of homemade cakes.

"Still hasn't changed my habit of bringing food every time I visit," Chung Nhã Trúc teased, now the official elder in charge of the entire Cảnh Linh Đài, replacing the position Tạ Vân Khê held years ago.

*

"Who told you to always work on an empty stomach," Âu Bội Nhi responded, causing the whole group to laugh, the laughter echoed throughout the courtyard, mixed with the sounds of children playing from the next generation - children of Miên Trà, of the first class students who are now grown up and have their own families.

Húc Bá Nguyên, now old and weak but still working as a record-keeper at Tông Vân Các, also stopped by to congratulate her. He brought a notebook he had compiled over the years, collecting ink-mixing recipes from every corner of Cửu Vân.

*

"This small gift," he said, handing the notebook to Diệp Sương, his voice still a bit embarrassed, "is considered a late atonement, but I hope it will be useful for future generations of students."

Diệp Sương received the notebook and bowed her head in sincere thanks. "Thank you, teacher. This will be one of the most valuable documents in Quán Lai Mặc library."

*

*

Before the guests gradually left, Diệp Sương led Vân Nhi up Cảnh Linh Đài, to the stone stele engraved with the name Tạ Vân Khê, now covered with a thin layer of green moss over the years but the deeply engraved words are still clear: "The person who believes when no one else dares to believe."

"Who is this, mom?" Vân Nhi asked, looking up at the stele with curious eyes.

"This is the person who trusted me, when I was just a thirteen-year-old girl from a small village that no one knew about," Diệp Sương replied, kneeling down and placing a branch of wildflowers on the stone pedestal. "If it weren't for her, I probably would never have had the opportunity to learn how to draw spells properly, never have met your father, and Quán Lai Mặc would never have existed."

Vân Nhi was silent for a moment, then imitated her mother, placing a small pebble she found on the side of the road next to the flower branch. "Then thank you," she said seriously, making Diệp Sương unable to hold back a warm and emotional smile.

*

Diệp Sương also thought of Mrs. Chín Lài and Mr. Tám Mực, both of whom had passed away peacefully a few years earlier, less than a season apart, in the same small house in Tùng Lĩnh Village. They were buried next to each other near Linh Căn temple according to their wishes. She still visited the graves every year, bringing Vân Nhi with her and telling her about the strict but warm gardener grandmother and the ink-sharpening, paper-making grandfather who had sown the seeds of a long journey.

"I think," she whispered to Tạ Vân Khê's stone tablet, as she had done for many years, "all my teachers, living or dead, are watching, and I hope I have not failed any of them."

*

Late at night, when the guests gradually left, Diệp Sương and Thanh Việt sat together on the porch, looking at Vân Nhi sleeping soundly in her father's arms, silver moonlight spreading across the quiet courtyard.

“Did you ever think,” Thanh Việt asked quietly, “fifteen years ago, when we started all of this, things would go this far?”

"Never," Diệp Sương replied, resting her head on his shoulder. "I just simply thought, I want to teach what I learned to a few people who are willing to learn. I never imagined it would become a whole network spread across Cửu Vân like it is now."

*

"That's probably the biggest lesson," Thanh Việt said, looking up at the starry sky. "The most sustainable things often do not start with a grand plan, but with a small, sincere action, repeated endlessly, day by day, year by year." Diệp Sương nodded, looking down at her hands in the moonlight—hands that now had a few new calluses after many years of hard work teaching, but still retained the dexterity Mr. Tám Mực had used to fine-tune each finger many years ago on the porch of the old paper factory in Tùng Lĩnh Village.

*

"Your father sent a letter saying he was coming to visit his grandson next month," Diệp Sương added, remembering a recent letter from Cố Bạt Nguyên, now retired from the position of General, spending most of his time in the capital but still not forgetting to visit his son's family a few times a year. "He said, Vân Nhi reminded him of herself when she was a child — stubborn, curious, and never able to sit still." Thanh Việt laughed softly. "Father has changed a lot compared to the strict man he used to be. I think what happened in Lệ Dương taught him a lot about letting go of rigid expectations and embracing what is truly important."

From inside the house, another letter had just been brought by the messenger, left on the table since afternoon. Diệp Sương stood up, gently took Vân Nhi from her husband's hand and placed her in the crib, then turned back to open the letter under the moonlight. That was the news from Ngộ Khắc Bình, now holding an important position in the inspection council, reporting that the new Quán Lai Mặc branch in Lệ Dương had just received its first student, a young prince, sent to study by the royal court, a sign that the symbiotic philosophy was now recognized at the highest levels of the kingdom.

"Even the royal family sends their children to study," Diệp Sương said, her voice full of emotion, showing the letter to Thanh Việt. "Fifteen years ago, perhaps no one would have believed this would happen." Diệp Sương nodded and looked down at her daughter sleeping peacefully in her husband's arms, then up at the moonlight illuminating Vân Tiêu Peak—the place that had witnessed her entire life, from a country child carrying an old inkstone to the woman sitting there in a legacy she had never dared to dream of, built stroke by stroke in ink.