Chapter 22: Where Talent Falls Short, Uncle Ying Steps In

The old fortune-teller proved to be far more resourceful than Zhang Kai had imagined. That very night, he delivered rooster blood, cinnabar, and yellow paper—all of the highest quality. He even managed to procure a talisman brush, said to be passed down for centuries, which had once drawn authentic spiritual talismans. The breadth of his connections made Zhang Kai reevaluate him; his cultivation might not be remarkable, but his access was wild and deep—definitely someone worth keeping close for the long term.

The materials were excellent, but Zhang Kai had overestimated himself. The Daoist art of talisman crafting, as practiced at Baiyun Temple, was divided into three levels: ordinary talismans, spiritual talismans, and divine talismans. Take, for instance, the warding talisman—if drawn with true energy as the guide, carefully crafted, and imbued with spiritual resonance, it becomes a basic talisman, effective only against stray spirits and ghosts. If one’s mastery is profound and true energy abundant, it can reach the level of a spiritual talisman, its power greatly increased, and feared by monsters and evil entities. The highest grade is the divine talisman, which yellow paper can no longer bear; it requires a master, using the finest spiritual jade as the base, true methods as the template, and with the right timing and place, meticulously refined. Only then is it possible.

The path of talismans is the most widespread and commonly practiced method in the cultivation world. It’s cheap, easy to master, and practical—far more popular than those formidable but difficult Daoist arts. Yet even so, the art of talismans has declined, with the main difficulty lying in the drawing of the characters themselves.

Take Zhang Kai: he was brimming with confidence, but after consuming most of the thousand sheets of yellow paper and all the rooster blood the old fortune-teller sent, he hadn’t managed to produce even a single basic protective talisman. His face darkened like ink. Damn, he’d talked himself up too much. Luckily, the old fortune-teller hadn’t stayed to watch, or his embarrassment would have deepened. It seemed that, aside from his golden finger, his talent was quite average. Well, better rely on his golden finger, then.

Without hesitation, Zhang Kai tossed aside the talisman brush, took out his phone, and opened a zombie film starring Lam Ching Ying. If he couldn’t draw them himself, he’d just borrow some from the movies—easy and efficient. Lam Ching Ying had starred in countless films, each featuring a variety of talismans.

There were corpse-suppressing talismans, warding talismans, exorcism talismans, talismans for the hour of the rooster, Taiji talismans, soul-hooking talismans, ghost-slaying talismans, household-protection talismans, weapon talismans, and more. There were also many magical implements: peachwood swords, Heavenly Marshal Rulers, Three Pure Bells, anti-evil jade pendants—even, as Zhang Kai noticed while watching “Mr. Vampire,” Lam Ching Ying’s reading material was always a peculiar tome titled “The Compendium of All Laws.” Its pages contained all manner of methods for dealing with monsters and ghosts, opening Zhang Kai’s eyes and yielding rich rewards.

After scouring through them all, Zhang Kai had thoroughly pillaged the Lam Ching Ying movies on his phone. His gains included over a hundred talismans of various kinds, as well as magical implements like peachwood swords, coin swords, Three Pure Bells, and anti-evil jade pendants. He even acquired a giant corpse-suppressing talisman drawn on yellow cloth, which delighted him, for it was unmistakably a spiritual talisman. In the film, Lam Ching Ying used it to capture dozens of zombies; the talisman’s aura was dense, its spiritual light bright. After careful study, Zhang Kai grasped some of its essence. With sustained research, drawing his own talismans would become a matter of course.

This bounty left Zhang Kai not only satisfied but a bit regretful—a single phone was simply not enough. Once this partnership with the old fortune-teller was over, it was time to find a place of his own, buy a few hundred phones, and establish a domain for his cultivation.

Having gained so much, Zhang Kai did not hurry to inform the old fortune-teller. Otherwise, producing so many talismans in such a short time would arouse suspicion. Over the next few days, Zhang Kai secluded himself in his small courtyard room, venturing nowhere. He either watched dramas to find useful items, tempered his internal strength and transformed true energy, or experimented with magical implements. These props from Lam Ching Ying’s zombie movies unexpectedly matched the current level of spiritual energy, allowing Zhang Kai to sense their spiritual power and wield them with ease—the only thing lacking was familiarity.

Two more days passed, and Zhang Kai, now immersed in cultivation and reluctant to leave, received a call from the old fortune-teller, urging him to hurry. Only then did he leisurely tidy up and step outside.

Arriving at the old fortune-teller’s dilapidated courtyard, Zhang Kai found several strangers—two men and a woman, all young. The woman seemed to be in charge, sitting as an equal with the old fortune-teller, while the two men in suits stood by.

Zhang Kai sized them up; the two men appeared to have some training, perhaps able to take on a few ordinary people, but nothing more—no signs of cultivation. The woman, meanwhile, had a bold look, wore a sharp outfit, short hair paired with a black leather skirt, exuding an unmistakable aura of wealth and confidence.

He made a few guesses inwardly, but kept a calm expression.

“Daoist Zhang, you’ve arrived. Come, have a seat,” the old fortune-teller greeted him warmly, rising with a smile.

Zhang Kai smiled and walked over to sit.

“Let me introduce you all. This is Miss Gu Mingyu, the beloved granddaughter of Boss Gu, and our representative in this partnership. Miss Gu, this is Daoist Zhang Kai, whom I told you about—a true successor of Maoshan. Don’t be fooled by his youth; he has inherited the authentic Maoshan arts, especially talisman techniques, which are nothing short of extraordinary.” The old fortune-teller spoke highly of Zhang Kai.

Zhang Kai smiled and extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Miss Gu.”

Gu Mingyu shook his hand and smiled. “Daoist Zhou is a trusted friend of my grandfather, respected for decades. Anyone he holds in such esteem must be truly capable. With Daoist Zhang joining us, our partnership is sure to thrive.”

Zhang Kai glanced at the old fortune-teller—so his surname was Zhou. He’d never told him, claiming to admire him so much? Ha, the old trickster.

“Not at all, just a superficial understanding. You flatter me, Miss Gu,” Zhang Kai replied humbly.

“Ha ha, sit down, everyone. Let’s have some tea,” the old fortune-teller interjected cheerfully.

Once seated, Gu Mingyu spoke, “Daoist Zhou, the terms of cooperation have been discussed at length. Everything you requested is ready on my end. Now, could you tell us when we’ll proceed?”

The old fortune-teller sighed, “Mingyu, we mustn’t be hasty. Where we’re headed is not like the Wudang scenic area, where you can enter at any time. We must choose the right day and hour. A single misstep, and we could meet an untimely end.”

Gu Mingyu looked at him. “I understand, but my grandfather has high hopes for this. You know his condition—he can’t wait too long. I hope you understand.”

The old fortune-teller smiled. “You’re truly a good child, Mingyu. In that case, I’ll be direct. I’ve been calculating the heavenly patterns and auspicious timings, and determined that August second is the best time for our expedition.”

“That’s only four days away. We’ll need time for travel and arrangements. The sooner we set out, the better,” Gu Mingyu said decisively.

The old fortune-teller replied, “Very well. If your preparations are complete, we can depart the day after tomorrow.”

Gu Mingyu smiled. “Wonderful. Give me the location, and I’ll arrange everything.”

The old fortune-teller said, “Our destination is Changling Snow Peak Mountain.”