“Mm-hmm.”
“Then you can store ready-made spells and use them anytime.”
“And?”
“…and sell them for money?”
“Sell—! Sell your big head!” she exploded. “That’s drawing talismans, not the Dao of Talismans!”
She cleared her throat and spoke seriously.
“The Dao of Talismans lies within every stroke. Its profundity contains heaven and earth themselves—far beyond a piece of paper. These diagrams are merely shortcuts left by predecessors. Memorize them first, but once your understanding grows beyond paper, I’ll teach you more. Don’t get arrogant because of talent. My disciple doesn’t just sit in the shade—I expect you to plant the trees.”
Lin Jin nodded under the pressure, then asked,
“What does it mean to go beyond paper?”
Instead of answering, Liuxun casually traced two strokes in the air with her fan. Suddenly, a strong wind swept through the study, lifting books and ringing the wind chimes outside.
“Talismans were created for convenience. Only mediocre talisman cultivators rely solely on paper. The essence lies in the act of drawing—if I wish, heaven and void themselves become my canvas.”
Lin Jin blinked.
“But… your strokes just now seemed simpler than when I drew them.”
She smiled.
“Exactly. Symbols are just manifestations of mystical principles. Once you fully comprehend a principle, you can simplify it—or combine it with others to create your own techniques. Your talismans will surpass the nine tiers and reach higher realms—even the divine tier.”
“Divine tier?!”
He scooted forward excitedly.
“Master, can you draw divine-tier talismans?”
She nearly choked.
“You think divine talismans grow on trees? Even I have only barely touched the threshold of heaven-tier. Divine tier exists only in legend.”
Then she snapped the book shut.
“Enough theory. Memorize this entire first-tier volume today. Tomorrow you’ll draw from memory. Fail—and you’ll copy each one three hundred times.”
Lin Jin stared at the thick book, nearly coughing up blood.
No wonder everyone said Master Liuxun was strict.
—
Liuxun had never taken a direct disciple before. She taught Lin Jin everything she knew. Though lazy, food-loving, and easily distracted, he learned quickly and took detailed notes. His talent extended beyond talismans into formations as well—he could identify array cores almost instinctively.
He split his days between Nanqian and Dongli, eating breakfast with Moyuzi before studying in Dongli and returning at night. Busy—but effective.
There was only one thing Liuxun disliked: around her, he was overly formal. With Moyuzi, he was relaxed and cheerful, like a grandchild with a doting elder.
She told herself she didn’t care.
But one day, when Moyuzi came to pick Lin Jin up, she followed behind anyway.
She watched Lin Jin brighten instantly and rush to Moyuzi’s side like a gust of wind. They chatted happily.
Hmph. It’s only been half a day—what could they have to talk about?
She overheard Moyuzi say, “Didn’t you promise a big dinner today? I couldn’t wait, so I came early.”
Pathetic.
Lin Jin replied cheerfully, “It’s Han Ao’s birthday—I promised to cook.”
Teaching martial cultivators mortal habits? I’ll report this tomorrow!
“And I need to borrow two mountain chickens…”
Roast chicken again?!
He suddenly called out,
“Master! Do you want to come back to Nanqian with us? It’ll be lively tonight!”
Liuxun realized he meant her.
Join their uncultured mortal activities? Absolutely not!
Half an incense stick later…
Lin Jin happily escorted both masters back to Nanqian.
By evening, however, chaos reigned.
Han Ao and Hua Nanzhi fought over a chicken leg, Moyuzi stole it mid-argument, Liuxun screamed about oil splashing on her clothes, Lin Jin’s dog jumped onto the table, and the bowl got kicked onto her skirt—sending her into hysterics.
Lin Jin wiped sweat from his forehead and sighed.
…Yeah.
It was definitely time to get a bigger dining table.
Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152