The Old Taoist stood where he was, watching his disciple bustle about with a half-smile.
Shen Hui showed no embarrassment at having been rebuffed.
He clapped his hands, pulled a sheet of yellow paper from his robes, and said with a smile, "Good that he left. That means we're already halfway to drawing the snake out of its hole."
As he spoke, he casually took a small brush from the brush rack and held it beneath his nose, sniffing it.
"Pretty good ink."
He muttered under his breath, then picked up the teapot and poured a little tea into the inkstone. Slowly, he ground the inkstick against it.
Once the ink was dark enough, he spread out the yellow paper, dipped his brush, and began drawing a talisman.
His brush moved like a dragon and a snake, the talisman's head struck with fierce force, its core completed in one fluid stroke, and its tail finished cleanly and decisively. Every stroke landed just right, without the slightest hesitation.
In the blink of an eye, a talisman with still-wet ink was finished.
The Old Taoist's brow twitched ever so slightly, but he quickly forced down his astonishment and asked instead, "Why didn't you use cinnabar?"
Shen Hui blew on the wet ink and smiled. "He shouldn't have gone far. His aura is still fresh, so ink will do. There's no need for cinnabar."
The Old Taoist hadn't asked without reason.
The art of talisman-making had always been divided into two paths: civil and martial.
Civil talismans mostly used cinnabar, while martial talismans used ink. The distinction between them lay entirely in their yin-yang attributes and functions.
Cinnabar was formed from the pure yang of Heaven and Earth.
Its color was fiery red. Among the Five Elements, it belonged to Li Fire, symbolizing light and yang energy. This was called "yang virtue": displaying virtue through rewards and blessings.
Drawing talismans with cinnabar meant borrowing its pure yang essence to increase their power and divine might.
Ink, on the other hand, belonged to yin. Its color was deep black, and among the Five Elements, it belonged to Kan Water, representing stillness and darkness.
It symbolized "yin punishment": suppressing evil through punishment and execution.
Thus, talismans drawn with ink often carried a solemn, suppressive air.
The Paper Crane Tracking Talisman before them was meant to "sense" and "guide." At its core, it belonged to the civil path and should have been drawn with cinnabar.
Of course, this wasn't an ironclad rule.
Every school had its own methods, and circumstances and individuals called for their own adaptations.
For instance, Shen Hui had spent five points of Dao Xing to learn this Paper Crane Seeking Talisman.
It was only a minor spell, unranked, but his proficiency had been maxed out. Making a small adjustment was as easy as breathing.
By then, he had deftly folded the talisman into the shape of a paper crane.
As he folded, he murmured an incantation:
"First fold the soul, then fold the trail; third, let twin wings catch the gale. Fold the tail to fix its flight, focus the heart, and thoughts unite; imbued with spirit, the crane takes wing, and finds the one it's meant to bring."
Once it was folded, he dipped the tip of his brush in the leftover ink and dotted in the crane's eyes.
Then he took out the few strands of hair he had picked up from the table that morning and carefully tucked them into the crane's belly.
Only then did he raise his hand, form a spell sign, and point into the air. "Rise!"
The paper crane seemed to come alive at once. It beat its wings and rose unsteadily into the air, circled the room, then flew out the window.
Master and disciple didn't delay. They followed close behind.
The paper crane led them out of the county town and westward.
To Shen Hui's surprise, Scholar Li might have looked frail, but he could walk at a good clip. They followed the trail for a long time.
The crane crossed the fields, passed over a dried-up ditch, and turned onto a desolate path.
Weeds crowded the roadside, and brambles snagged at their clothes. Clearly, few people traveled this way.
After roughly seven or eight li, dusk was drawing near. A thatched hut suddenly appeared ahead, listing crookedly in the middle of a wasteland.
Wind blew through gaps on every side of the hut. The thatch on its roof was sparse, and the plaster had crumbled from its walls. At a glance, it was clearly an abandoned shack, long uninhabited.
Shen Hui exchanged a glance with the Old Taoist, and they crept closer.
Before they reached it, they heard the muffled sound of two people talking inside.
One voice was shrill, the other hoarse. They mingled together, thick with panic and agitation.
The hoarse voice spoke first, seething with anger. "What did I tell you before? Don't come looking for me unless there's a reason. You've come rushing here so recklessly—aren't you afraid of bringing disaster down on yourself?"
Next came Scholar Li's voice, choked with tears and trembling with unease:
"Do you think I wanted to come? But those two Taoists are truly formidable. They dealt with that Yin Sha ghost at the Liu Family Old Residence in the blink of an eye. Watching what they could do scared me to death."
"I deliberately picked a fight and pretended to be sick at the Post House today. It took everything I had just to get away and come here. That Taoist has probably already noticed something's off. If we don't think of a solution, sooner or later our business will be exposed!"
The conversation in the thatched hut continued. Their voices were very low, yet sent an ever greater chill through the listener.
"...The thing at the Liu Family Old Residence should have been nurtured for a while longer. We should have waited until it had fully come into its power before trying to subdue it."
The speaker's voice was sinister, tinged with anger. "And now look what's happened. You panicked and made a scene, bringing that Taoist in to interfere. Haven't you ruined my plans?"
Then came another long string of scolding.
Scholar Li's voice quavered with tears as he replied, "Please calm down, Immortal Master! I... I just wanted to gather some money as quickly as possible. I never thought those two Taoists would be so powerful..."
After a long while, the scolding finally subsided.
"Enough, enough. What's done is done. Blaming you won't help. Tell me, is the Yin Sha on that widow in Zhang Family Village being nurtured properly? Don't let it end up like that useless thing at the Liu Family Old Residence, easily broken by Taoists and ruining our grand plan."
Scholar Li was shaking all over, his voice trembling.
"It's going well, it's going well! I laid down the Yin Gathering Array as you instructed. Once the time is right, I'll be able to subdue it and refine Yin Sha every day. It's just a shame about the one at the Liu Family Old Residence..."
"Useless!"
At that, the hoarse voice launched into another furious tirade, clearly still seething. "If you hadn't been so careless, how could that Yin Ghost have had its whereabouts exposed?"
The scholar hunched his neck and fell silent.
The hoarse voice sighed, then continued, "Never mind. While you're lying low, make sure you behave for the next few days. Once I've collected all the Yin Sha from Zhang Family Village, we'll leave this place at once, before we bring disaster down on ourselves. By the way, did you leave any evidence behind for that Taoist to find?"
"N-no!"
Scholar Li hurriedly protested. "I was careful at every turn. I didn't make a single mistake..."