Chapter 14: Chapter Fourteen: Tian Gang Talisman

He Laozhang didn’t know much, but what he did know was considerable, for he had lived in Xiuyue County for over a decade, picking up plenty from operas, books, and village gossip.

The dynasty he spoke of was called the Da Ning Dynasty; he naturally didn’t know its territory size or how long it had ruled, only that his small village belonged to Changping Prefecture’s Xiuyue County, spanning two or three hundred li.

This world had ghosts and demons, gods and spirits; it was said Da Ning had national guardian spirits, a national guardian religion, and wandering masters patrolling the land to subdue demons and exorcise ghosts.

“In earlier years, life was relatively peaceful,” He Laozhang sighed. “But since over thirty years ago, incidents in the county grew frequent—several ghost outbreaks occurred. Being a timid old man, I returned to the village and rarely left since.”

“Aren’t there masters patrolling the land?” Gu Zhao asked.

He Laozhang shook his head. “How many masters can the court possibly have? And how many demons, ghosts, and monsters roam the land? Thirty years ago, they say a river demon in neighboring Wuhe County nearly turned the place into a wasteland.”

Here, He Laozhang still looked shaken—clearly, the Wuhe County incident had decisively influenced his choice to return to the village.

As they chatted, it reached the middle of the Si hour; Xiuniang set a low table in the courtyard with fragrant steamed rice and a clear-simmered stew of cabbage, radish, and cured pork, then sliced two apples into small pieces and placed them aside.

“Young Master, these fruits are so sweet! They look like nai fruit, but bigger and sweeter!” Xiuniang had already eaten the apple trimmings—she’d never tasted anything so sweet.

Xiuniang’s smile was healing; Gu Zhao couldn’t help but laugh. “As long as it’s tasty.”

“Dinner’s ready! Come eat!” Xiuniang arranged the dishes and chopsticks, calling out to Gu Zhao and her grandfather.

…

After eating, the children from yesterday returned to He Laozhang for lessons; Xiuniang also brought out bamboo slips from the side room, listening idly as she began weaving bamboo.

Gu Zhao glanced at the bamboo hats, baskets, and sieves hanging under the eaves and asked Xiuniang, “How much do these sell for?”

Xiuniang lifted her face. “Uncle Zhang goes to the county once every ten days to sell all the village’s bamboo crafts, then brings back food and essentials. Sometimes there’s leftover money, and everyone gets a share.”

From Xiuniang’s words, the village wasn’t entirely isolated; besides farming, villagers had various skills—carpenters, stonemasons, bricklayers—and one family specialized in bamboo weaving, teaching the craft to villagers so the women could supplement household income.

“Just outside the village is the imperial road; travelers and merchants, or those who missed their lodgings, sometimes come in,” Xiuniang explained.

Gu Zhao shook his head. “Aren’t they afraid of bandits?”

Xiuniang didn’t smile. Instead, she looked troubled. “Bandits rarely appeared on the imperial road before. But when Uncle Zhang returned last time, he said he saw two dead men on the road. Two days later, bandits attacked our village.”

Xiuniang’s gaze toward Gu Zhao was full of gratitude. “If not for you, we might have been killed by those bandits.”

“It probably wouldn’t have come to that…” Gu Zhao chuckled. “If they killed everyone here, who’d they rob next?”

Xiuniang couldn’t help laughing. “You’re so kind, Young Master. Those bandits barely have their next meal—they don’t think that far ahead.”

Here, Xiuniang truly felt a chill of fear. Though the bandits likely wouldn’t have slaughtered the whole village, and their chief had only cared about the green-robed woman, she’d noticed several bandits staring at her with unmistakable intent.

“Didn’t the ghost kill them all?” Gu Zhao shrugged, smiling.

Xiuniang laughed bitterly. “The ghost is even scarier!”

Recalling how the villagers reacted when they learned the ghost wanted to drain Gu Zhao’s yuanqi, he couldn’t help smiling—when facing the unknown, fear swells to its greatest height.

Even He Laozhang had broken his own limits.

Speaking of the ghost, Gu Zhao remembered his achievement from yesterday. He reached into his robe and pulled out two yellow triangular talismans, placing them in Xiuniang’s hands.

“These are two protective talismans—one for your grandfather, one for you to carry close to your body. If you encounter demons or ghosts, they’ll shield you at life-or-death moments.”

Xiuniang gasped and instinctively tried to refuse. “This is too valuable…”

Gu Zhao stopped her, clasping her hand to hold the two talismans in her palm, then patted her head with his other hand, teasingly smiling. “Take them. There are so many demons and ghosts in this world—if you ever meet one again, at least you won’t be as scared as rabbits.”

These were Tian Gang Talismans from the Shangqing Tianxin Zhengfa—a type that activates spontaneously without magic power, and when worn long-term, strengthens the body and prevents illness. At critical moments, they destroy evil and protect life, but primarily target yin and corrupt energies, not blades or weapons.

There was no choice—Gu Zhao’s Daoist scriptures currently lacked such talismans or incantations.

“They say Golden Core cultivators can achieve an indestructible body; the Zhengyi Orthodox Sect has the Golden Venerable Talisman,” Gu Zhao mused. “The indestructible body aside—what about the Golden Venerable Talisman? Should I go to Longhu Tianshan and exchange insights with their Daoist priests?”

Though online versions of the Daozang were available, they varied wildly, missing diagrams and characters. Who knew if each sect had hidden secrets when submitting their esoteric methods to the imperial court?

For instance, the three Daoist scriptures Gu Zhao studied differed significantly from the online Tianxia Daozang, adding many details on breathing, finger seals, and magic power circulation.

So if he wanted to learn the Golden Venerable Talisman, he’d likely have to go to Longhu Tianshan.

Gu Zhao wasn’t worried he couldn’t learn it—because…

Thinking of this, Gu Zhao couldn’t help grinning. “If I publicly unleashed a Palm Thunder on Longhu Tianshan, would they immediately drape me in purple robes and appoint me the current Celestial Master?”

Ghosts avoiding you, demons subdued, sword flight—all were internet memes. If anyone truly wielded thunder magic in reality, it would shake the entire nation.

Gu Zhao was laughing, but Xiuniang couldn’t smile.

Held in Gu Zhao’s hand, her cheeks flushed red with shy delight—but as his words left his mouth, her face paled.

It wasn’t that she found his joke unfunny or minded his teasing; she’d sensed another meaning beneath his words.

Suppressing her inner panic, she lifted her head with a bright smile. “I’ll wear it—I’ll wear it always!”

Gu Zhao nodded. He didn’t notice the stiffness at her lips, for he suddenly realized he hadn’t returned all day.

He had to cross back quickly—or he’d be listed as missing.

“I’m going to the back mountain to cultivate. I’ll return tonight,” Gu Zhao told Xiuniang, then turned and hurried away.