Chapter Fifty-Six: The Talisman of Thunder

The moment this thought surfaced, I could no longer restrain the sensation—it surged uncontrollably, and I inhaled sharply.

A chill, eerie breath entered my body through my nostrils.

It was as if half a bottle of icy water had been poured into my nose; I shivered from the cold.

The expression on the ghost’s face was frozen in a final mix of shame and fury, but that expression was shifting toward astonishment and terror. Yet before it could fully change, its chance was gone.

My body instinctively trembled, and I let go.

The ghost’s body vanished instantly, dissipating like smoke.

I felt a coldness seep through me, a strange fullness swelling in my consciousness, like a starving soul suddenly feasting, yet accompanied by a mild sting—as if I had indulged too much.

A faint unease floated up in my heart.

Was this the ability Mother had sealed away with those soul talismans? Ghosts absorb humans, but I can absorb ghosts?

She had warned of the dangers in consuming too many ghost souls, but said nothing about mine.

The other ghosts didn’t notice me.

Though I had absorbed one, it did not give me the confidence to confront the rest directly.

Staring at the pen in my hand, my thoughts turned to Old Master Wang.

Mother had said the soul I fused with belonged to Old Master Wang’s master; perhaps he could explain why I couldn’t draw a talisman.

I took a deep breath and circled around, approaching the side of Wang Erjun’s house, then climbed in through the window.

The kitchen door was still blocked by the stool I’d used before—no one had entered.

I calmed myself, scooped water from the jar to wash my face, and quickly stepped out.

Granny Li stood before the courtyard gate, her face grave, gripping a peach-wood sword.

Old Master Wang held several copper coins, brows furrowed, and raised his hand sharply.

Instantly, the copper coins stuck in the gate stood upright.

The red cinnabar cords threading the coins suddenly glowed.

The ghosts nearby snarled, their faces twisted, prowling before the gate but not advancing.

My heart raced; Granny Li turned, her voice low and resolute, “Child, go inside. These resentful ghosts are all new, only two are old. They can’t enter the courtyard.”

I realized she knew I’d been outside—there was no hiding it. Otherwise, I’d have concealed the pen, unable to ask Old Master Wang how to use it.

But instinct told me that the two elders alone could not resolve these troubles.

I needed to act swiftly; I feared Mother would not wait much longer.

My thoughts whirled. I shook my head at Granny Li and replied, voice steady, “I’m fine.”

Her gaze changed subtly, surprise and scrutiny mingling as she looked me over.

I drew a deep breath and called, “Grandpa Wang!”

Old Master Wang’s voice was somber, “These ghosts are probing. Xie Yuan, go inside.”

I hesitated, suppressing my emotions, and rasped, “Grandpa Wang, my mother… she was here.”

At my words, Old Master Wang spun around.

Granny Li’s astonishment became shock.

Her gaze finally settled on my hand.

I opened the long wooden box once more and drew out the pen.

---

Old Master Wang’s copper coins clattered to the ground; he moved so swiftly he was beside me in the blink of an eye.

His whole body trembled, hands hovering as if cradling mine and the pen.

“Child… is this from your mother?”

“No, forgive my slip of the tongue,” he said, his voice trembling with reverence and agitation.

“Grandpa Wang?” I asked, puzzled.

Though I understood why he called himself a servant, I could not divulge anything Mother had instructed.

A flicker of disappointment crossed his face, but he continued to hold my hand delicately, letting out a breath. “Did your mother give you this? After you received it, did you remember anything, see anything?”

I nodded. “A man, his back to me, drawing talismans with this pen. Before him, countless ghosts; corpses piled at his feet. With a single talisman, all the souls vanished.”

“I sneaked out to meet Mother; after she gave me the pen, I saw those scenes. I tried to draw a talisman with blood, but it had no effect, so I rushed back.”

“The ghosts outside are the work of Liu Dong from the mourning business—he brought evil spirits, one has turned into a young man.”

My thoughts were clear; I recounted everything calmly.

Tears glimmered in Old Master Wang’s eyes. He stammered, “Child, you truly saw it? Did you sense who he was?”

I dared not meet his gaze, but suddenly recalled the man’s movements—and the faint connection in my consciousness—blurting, “I feel he’s very close to me, but I didn’t see his face. I’m not certain.”

At the last moment, I restrained myself, not saying it outright.

Old Master Wang steadied himself, voice still tinged with excitement, “I was too anxious… This is a talisman pen, but it’s not enough, not enough…”

He grew more composed, glancing outside, his tone weighty. “Xie Yuan, do you know why your talismans didn’t work?”

My heart thudded. I shook my head. “I don’t know—but I feel my talismans are flawless, as if etched in my mind countless times.”

A spark of excitement flickered in his eyes. He said, “Because your soul lacks something—a power to wield the pen. I too cannot draw talismans from thin air; you must borrow certain things.”

His gaze fell on the long box in my hand.

I handed it to him.

His movements were reverent.

Granny Li’s expression was inexplicably complex; her gaze toward me shifted, and toward Old Master Wang, it seemed tinged with relief.

I saw their subtle reactions clearly, guilt pricking my heart.

I was deceiving them, withholding the truth.

But I feared that if I spoke, they would turn against me.

Mother had given me two choices—there was no third.

Old Master Wang opened the box, crouched, and took out the inkstone.

He tore a piece from the paper roll, his actions meticulous, as if afraid to desecrate it.

“This inkstone and paper are made from rare Dao Mountain greenstone and peach-wood xuan paper. Blood is mixed into the ink. With this paper as a base, only then can the talisman be drawn.”

I drew a deep breath, squeezed blood from my finger, and let it drip into the inkstone.

Only then did I notice a small stone in the inkstone; Old Master Wang picked it up and ground it. Soon, my blood turned a deep black-red.

Not the crimson black, but a blood-darkness threaded with red lines.

A vision flickered in my consciousness.

A quiet courtyard.

---

Still the same figure, back turned, drawing talismans on xuan paper atop a stone table.

Beside the paper, a small, ancient inkstone.

Next to the figure stood a young man, no older than seventeen or eighteen, carefully grinding ink. “Little Nine, the ink needs seven parts middle finger primal yang blood, three parts tip-of-tongue extreme yang blood, then the shock talisman will be strong and lasting.”

“This talisman can subdue ten thousand ghosts. If drawn with heart’s blood and soul blood, even millennia-old fiends cannot resist.”

The vision lasted only briefly. The youth spoke softly, “Master, middle finger blood is abundant, tip-of-tongue blood harms the soul, heart’s blood and soul blood are precious and hurt the master. Since you’re only drawing talismans for leisure, why go so far?”

The figure paused, a laugh escaping him.

“Remember what I told you. If I am gone, you may use this for protection.”

“Master will never be gone. If you are, then Little Nine will wait until you return.”

The vision faded.

A growing shock gripped me.

Looking at Old Master Wang, his likeness to the youth was uncanny.

He raised his head, hesitating, murmuring, “Primal yang blood should suffice, just ordinary ghosts—perhaps no need…”

My instinctive action was to bite my tongue, spitting half a mouthful of blood into the inkstone.

“Seven parts middle finger blood, three parts tip-of-tongue blood—Grandpa Wang, this is the shock talisman.”

My deepest instinct was to use the most foolproof method against the ghosts.

The visions urged me to act.

Old Master Wang’s hand trembled, nearly dropping the grinding stone.

“Yes, yes, but this extreme yang blood harms the soul…”

He looked up, eyes trembling with agitation, still grinding instinctively.

I took a deep breath, dipped the talisman pen in the blood ink, and let the feeling in my consciousness guide my hand, drawing the talisman smoothly.

As the talisman took shape, blood-red light burst forth.

A tremor shook my heart—I realized I could control the talisman with my mind!

“Go!”

I raised my hand; the talisman shot toward the resentful ghosts outside!

In the next instant, every ghost froze, utterly still.

Old Master Wang suddenly knelt, his voice hoarse, crying, “Master…”

Granny Li’s face was shaken; after a moment, she too slowly knelt.

Outside, all the ghosts—including the two fiends that devoured others—were annihilated in an instant.

I was stunned.

Not just by the power of the talisman, but by Old Master Wang kneeling to me.

Granny Li as well.

I was about to help them up when a wave of emptiness swept my consciousness—darkness fell, and I collapsed backward.