Chapter 67 – Clues

Early the next morning, cinnabar and talisman paper were delivered to the hospital, both purchased by Heipi from reliable stores specifically for drawing talismans. However, when Wei Yang presented these items to Zhang Xiuqi, the latter shook his head slightly, showing no intention of using them.

“What’s wrong? Are these not suitable?” Wei Yang frowned. Heipi was always reliable; if he said they were top quality, they definitely were.

“Can’t use them.” Zhang Xiuqi shook his head again and added, “At home, in the bag.”

“In your travel bag?” Wei Yang immediately remembered the large travel bag Zhang Xiuqi always carried. “I’ll call Woody and have him bring it over. But what’s wrong with this cinnabar? Is the quality of the material not good?”

Cinnabar could be categorized into “flying water” and industrially synthesized types. The cinnabar they used in their shop was bought online, bright red and finely powdered, perfect for their supernatural theatrics. The cinnabar Heipi brought, however, was genuine “flying water” cinnabar, slightly purplish in color and suitable for medicinal use, commonly used for drawing talismans. If even this top-quality product wasn’t suitable, could there have been some misunderstanding?

“No.” Zhang Xiuqi thought for a moment, then wrote down a prescription and handed it over: “Prepare it like this, can draw other talismans.”

The prescription listed several medicinal ingredients like thunder seal, atractylodes, poria, benzoin, and bletilla, along with specific measurements and combinations. It seemed to be a common alchemical formula. Seeing the list, Wei Yang finally understood: “So the cinnabar for drawing talismans needs to be mixed as well? Is this a unique formula from Longhu Mountain? As expected of the founder of the Three Mountains Talismans, there’s so much to cinnabar. What did you add to the cinnabar you used for the Soul Stabilizing Talisman?”

“Thunderstruck peach wood, frost-fallen polygala, and Longhu Thousand Peaks,” Zhang Xiuqi answered seriously. “Using essence blood as an activator to make it effective.”

Peach wood was always a good material for warding off evil, and polygala and Longhu Thousand Peaks were well-known calming herbs in traditional Chinese medicine. However, the special requirements like “thunderstruck,” “frost-fallen,” and “Longhu” likely made these ingredients hard to find. No wonder the Little Celestial Master kept extra cinnabar specifically for drawing Soul Stabilizing Talismans.

However, when Wei Yang heard the term “essence blood,” he suddenly remembered something: “Wait, when you said essence blood as an activator, it should be the essence blood of the talisman drawer, right? But last time, I seemed to have successfully drawn a talisman with that cinnabar. Or does it work no matter who draws it?”

As expected, Zhang Xiuqi shook his head again. Now even Wei Yang himself wasn’t sure. Did the talisman he drew at Treasure House actually work? If it did, why didn’t any of the talismans he drew yesterday work? Or was the success at Treasure House just a coincidence? After some thought, Wei Yang couldn’t help but say, “How about I try drawing some talismans again later? If it works, it could be useful in an emergency…”

“No.” This time, Zhang Xiuqi’s voice became serious, his brows furrowed tightly. “Drawing talismans drains your energy. It’s not suitable for you. No!”

His tone was firm, and there was a trace of concern in his expression. Seeing the emotion that involuntarily surfaced in Zhang Xiuqi’s eyes, Wei Yang felt a warmth in his heart and smiled obediently: “Alright, I won’t draw them. I’ll listen to you, Brother Qi.”

This effectively soothed Zhang Xiuqi, whose tense expression immediately relaxed, and he returned to his usual calm demeanor. However, looking at Zhang Xiuqi’s slightly silent figure, Wei Yang silently noted in his heart that no matter why that talisman had worked, he should try again. Otherwise, if something happened, he would regret it deeply.

Just after lunch, Sun Muhua arrived carrying a bunch of bags, looking as disheveled as a refugee. Seeing Wei Yang, he immediately started complaining: “Brother Qi, your turtle wouldn’t let me sleep in the house! It bit me whenever I went into the bedroom or the study, so I had to sleep on the couch. I fell off three times last night!”

“You could’ve slept on the floor. My house has wooden floors, so it should’ve been quite comfortable,” Wei Yang ignored his complaints and directly took the travel bag off his back.

Seeing the bag, Sun Muhua’s expression of grievance deepened, and he pointed at it mournfully: “And this bag! The turtle practically clung to it with all four paws. I spent two hours arguing with it before I could get it. Is this thing filled with its food or something? Brother Qi, you really need to reimburse me for my mental distress. That turtle of yours is more troublesome than a guard dog…”

Handing the travel bag to Zhang Xiuqi, Wei Yang gave Sun Muhua a light knock on the head: “Stop pretending to be wronged when you’ve got the advantage. By the way, contact your old man and tell him to stay hidden outside for now. Wait until this matter is over before coming back. Oh, and where are the other things I asked you to bring?”

Despite his complaints, Sun Muhua didn’t dare to disobey. Grumbling, he took off the other bags he was carrying: “I brought everything. All the stuff from the safe is here. Luckily, it wasn’t stolen.”

The day the three of them were kidnapped, the door of Jieshui Studio wasn’t even locked. It was fortunate that no thieves came by, otherwise the losses would have been much greater. Wei Yang chuckled and directly opened the bag. Inside were the antiques Director Sun had sent earlier, along with some other miscellaneous items. However, he didn’t inspect them and instead took out a black notebook from the bag before handing the rest back to Sun Muhua.

“Take these items to Treasure House later and have Brother Ming sell them. Keep the other stuff at home. I’ll be back home in a couple of days, so tell Lao Ye not to bully you anymore,” Wei Yang smiled as he handed the bag back. However, before it reached Sun Muhua’s hands, another hand intercepted it.

Zhang Xiuqi pulled out a long box from the bag and placed it carefully to the side: “Can’t sell this.”

Both Wei Yang and Sun Muhua were surprised. Wei Yang was the first to react—this was the genuine work of Master Yuanji that Director Sun had sent earlier. It was something Zhang Xiuqi had found at Elder Ye’s place. Why couldn’t it be sold now? He thought for a moment and asked tentatively, “Brother Qi, is there something strange about this painting? Or is there something wrong with the scroll?”

Zhang Xiuqi shook his head lightly: “The top layer can be sold, but the bottom layer can’t.”

Hearing this, Wei Yang’s heart skipped a beat. He had seen the painting before, and there was only one layer. Where did this top and bottom distinction come from? However, being quick-witted, he immediately thought of something: Could there be something unusual about the mounting of the painting?

Due to the artistic expression, all Chinese calligraphy and painting works inevitably involve mounting. Sometimes the quality of the mounting could determine the life or death of a piece of art. As the saying goes, “Mounting an ancient piece is like treating an illness: a good doctor can revive it, while a bad one can kill it.” Pieces that have been passed down through generations, carrying precious historical significance, are particularly vulnerable. Thus, the art of mounting developed alongside calligraphy and painting, becoming a unique craft. If the mounter wanted to do something tricky with the painting, it would be hard for an ordinary person to detect.

This genuine work of Yuanji was a three-foot vertical scroll. Wei Yang didn’t know much about paintings, but he remembered that the mounting resembled the antique style common before the liberation, with simple inscriptions and only five seals on the painting: one of Master Yuanji’s “Bitter Melon” seal, and the other three belonging to collectors. How could such a clearly documented masterpiece have such a trick in its mounting? Or was this masterwork used as a cover, with something hidden beneath it?

Wei Yang rubbed the box containing the scroll and asked, “Brother Qi, when you sensed the qi earlier, was it from the top layer or the bottom layer?”

“Both,” Zhang Xiuqi answered straightforwardly. “The top layer is faint, the bottom layer is strong.”

Hearing this, Wei Yang couldn’t help but sigh. He turned to the stunned Sun Muhua and said, “Alright, Woody, don’t sell the painting for now. Keep it at home. We’ll find a master mounter later to see if we can separate the layers.”

After all, it was a mounted Chinese painting. If not handled carefully, not only would the hidden layer be damaged, but the top layer could also be ruined. Since it was a masterpiece, they needed to be cautious. After chatting with Sun Muhua for a bit longer, Wei Yang sent him off. Turning around, he saw that Zhang Xiuqi had already taken out two stacks of yellow paper and a box of cinnabar from the backpack, neatly arranging them on the table. Since his hand was still bandaged and he couldn’t use a brush, he simply dipped his index finger in some water and prepared to draw the talisman directly with his bare hand.

Although the Soul Stabilizing Talisman had strong side effects, it was indispensable for Zhang Xiuqi. Now that changes were starting to occur in his body and his soul wasn’t entirely stable, he naturally needed to replenish it. As for the side effects… Wei Yang smiled bitterly. He would think about that after his injuries had fully healed.

Not wanting to disturb Zhang Xiuqi, Wei Yang quietly sat down on the sofa nearby. After some hesitation, he took out the notebook he had just put away. It was an old leather notebook, its cover faded and the pages yellowed and brittle, feeling crisp to the touch. He had to be careful when turning the pages, afraid they might crumble. Inside were elegant, flowing calligraphy and numerous illustrations, clearly showing the deep artistic skill of the original owner.

This notebook was the only memento Wei Yang’s grandfather had left him, a record of the old man’s lifelong research. It not only contained tricks and schemes related to “golden pointers” but also secrets from other branches of the “Seven Gates,” as well as records from his time as the head of the Changchun Association. It was essentially a vivid chronicle of the hidden world of the Jianghu. Wei Yang had read this notebook countless times since childhood and had memorized all its contents, but there was one thing he had never been able to figure out.

Gently flipping to the last page, Wei Yang found a small note tucked between the leather cover and the last page. It was a hastily scribbled line in fountain pen: “Lunar calendar, the 18th, when the Foxy Lady emerges, disaster follows, internal organs burned, hid the Zhufang in…”

The second half of the note had been torn off, making it impossible to see the rest of the content. This note had originally been tucked inside the leather cover and was only discovered by Wei Yang by chance. Before, he had never been able to figure out who “Foxy Lady” referred to, but now he had a vague idea. If he remembered correctly, his grandmother had been a shaman who worshipped household deities. The so-called household deities were none other than the “Fox, Weasel, White, Willow, and Rat,” and to avoid directly naming the deities, rural folk often used homophones. Thus, “Foxy Lady” was likely a euphemism for a fox deity.

So what exactly happened on the 18th of the lunar calendar as written on the note? What was the “Zhufang” that was hidden? This notebook had been given to him by his grandfather on his deathbed. If he really didn’t want Wei Yang to know about this, why would he have left the note inside?

After silently staring at the note for a while, Wei Yang put it back and closed the notebook with a deep sigh. Whatever it was, it was a clue. He would take a closer look when he got home.

The rest of the time was mainly spent on recuperation. Although the injuries looked serious, the wounds on Zhang Xiuqi’s hands healed almost completely within a week. During this time, the two of them also went to the police station to retrieve the Peng Zhi corpse worm. The escaped tomb robbers were also arrested one by one, eliminating the threat to Jieshui Studio. Hearing this news, Sun Muhua, that fool, immediately rushed back to work in high spirits. Staying in the same house as Lao Ye for so long had been quite an ordeal for him.

After handling these miscellaneous matters, Wei Yang once again sought out Master Chizhi. Together, they helped Zhang Xiuqi pass through the Soul Binding Day on the 13th of the lunar calendar without incident, ensuring there were no lingering effects. Finally, it was time to go home.