Chapter Twenty-One: The Seven Mystic Talisman Arts, the Supreme Transformation of Spirit

At this moment, Fang Zheng was seated in a lavishly decorated private chamber, savoring fragrant tea, a faint smile curling at his lips as he recalled the amusing incidents of their journey. This was none other than the residence of the Zhao family in Tianyu County. After five days of weary travel by carriage and horse, the Zhao family’s convoy had finally returned here late last night. Once settled, everyone retired early for rest. The young girl had naturally found a safe place as well, allowing Fang Zheng to put his mind at ease. After all, this world was quite unlike Earth; the separation between men and women was observed in every aspect, and Fang Zheng could not have the girl by his side at every moment.

It was still early, and Fang Zheng had just finished his daily exercises. Now, as he sat at the table with a cup of aromatic tea in hand, his brows were slightly furrowed, pondering the information he had gleaned two days prior from that so-called "Immortal Master," and considering where he ought to begin his inquiries.

Setting his tea aside, Fang Zheng reached into his robe and drew out a jade slip and a talisman. The talisman was the very one the old Daoist had used to conjure a ferocious tiger, and the jade slip too was from the same man. Fang Zheng had tried to sound out the Daoist’s background by engaging him in conversation, but contrary to expectations, the seemingly crafty old man was rather ingenuous—perhaps because, after traveling together for several days, he’d heard from the guards of Fang Zheng’s unusual abilities. He simply laid out his entire story to Fang Zheng, holding nothing back.

The old Daoist's surname was Zhang, and his ancestral home was here in Tianyu County. Yet, starting with his grandfather, the family had fallen on hard times. Sixty years ago, a devastating drought struck Tianyu County, forcing his grandfather and father to flee over a thousand miles to Zhengqi County, where they settled. By the time it came to the old Daoist’s generation, he was the only one left. Though only in his fifties, years of hardship made him appear more like a man of seventy. He scraped by through trickery and begging, but now, as he aged, anxiety gnawed at him—“Of the three unfilial acts, having no heir is the greatest.” Watching his family line on the verge of extinction, the old Daoist considered taking a wife and having children. But he knew his circumstances too well; no woman would willingly marry someone like him. In desperation, he remembered some heirlooms that had been passed down through the Zhang family. Though there was a strict family commandment never to touch these relics except in times of mortal peril, he felt the family’s survival was at stake.

He recalled how solemnly his ancestors had treated these items—perhaps they were indeed treasures of great worth. "If I sell them and take a few beautiful wives, have some strapping sons, I won’t have failed my ancestors," he thought, excitement stirring within him. He barely spared a thought for whether his ancestors might rise from their graves to strangle him for his lack of filial piety, and hurried to unearth the family treasures. Yet, upon opening the box, he was sorely disappointed.

All that remained were a gray jade slip, an ancient thread-bound book, a vivid green talisman, and a palm-sized map. None of these looked remotely like treasures to his eyes; perhaps the jade slip could fetch a few coins, though its drab color rendered it rather unimpressive. Clinging to hope, he brought the jade slip to a pawnshop, only to be tossed out and mocked for offering a dull, worthless stone. Still unwilling to give up, he returned home to see if the other items held any clues to their value. Though down on his luck, he was literate, and after examining everything except the book—which he could not decipher—he sat down to read the ancient volume from start to finish. What he discovered left him astounded.

The book turned out to be a biography written by a member of the Zhang family about his own father. Setting aside the flattery and exaggeration, the identity of the subject shocked the old Daoist: an “Immortal.” That word alone was enough to set anyone’s heart racing. Renewed with hope, the old Daoist studied the book carefully and eventually gleaned a technique called the "Taiyi Spirit Transformation Art," as well as explanations regarding the other items. As it happened, one of his ancestors had indeed become an extraordinary “Immortal,” though the book did not say what became of him. He left behind these items, which had been passed down through the generations. According to the text, the jade slip contained a cultivation method (though its specifics were not described), the talisman could conjure a tiger, and the map marked the location of the Immortal ancestor’s cave abode. These relics were to be used in times of dire peril: a talented Zhang descendant could learn the "Taiyi Spirit Transformation Art," use the talisman for self-preservation, or seek refuge in the cave, and perhaps find a way to rebuild.

Armed with this knowledge, the old Daoist tried to learn the “Taiyi Spirit Transformation Art”—and, unexpectedly, succeeded. With the talisman, he continued his dishonest ways, swindling and tricking his way along until he encountered Fang Zheng’s party, and even “picked up” a “Daoist acolyte” to serve as a façade. After hearing rumors of Fang Zheng’s miraculous abilities from the Zhao family guards, the Daoist initially planned to trick Fang Zheng into helping him reach the spot marked on the map. But realizing Fang Zheng wasn’t easily fooled, he frankly revealed everything and offered up the jade slip and talisman as bargaining chips, hoping Fang Zheng would protect him on his quest to find the ancestral Immortal’s cave.

Upon hearing all this, Fang Zheng was both amused and exasperated, unsure whether to call the old Daoist foolish or clever. His original intent had only been to probe for details, since it was astonishing that an ordinary mortal could command such an “Immortal” technique as the tiger talisman. Fang Zheng feared he might bring danger to the young girl, but he had not expected such a bizarre tale—or that he would be asked to play bodyguard.

After some thought, Fang Zheng agreed to the Daoist’s request. The jade slip and talisman thus came into his possession, and after several days of study, he was somewhat surprised. The talisman, which he had seen before, appeared to be nearly depleted of spiritual power due to overuse; Fang Zheng dared not infuse it with more energy, and merely studied its markings. As for the jade slip, he had assumed it would contain basic cultivation methods left for future generations, but instead, it held a technique known as the “Seven Mystical Talismans,” which detailed the method for creating such talismans—the tiger talisman among them. Initially dismissing this, Fang Zheng soon realized the method was quite profound: talismans made this way were not only much more powerful than ordinary ones, they could be used repeatedly until their energy ran out. Unfortunately, the required materials were extremely rare and precious—beyond his current means.

This made Fang Zheng chuckle wryly. Truly, the wonders of fate were beyond comprehension. Everything he had experienced on this journey was more marvelous and bizarre than anything in his twenty-plus years on Earth. The seemingly “foolish” old Daoist was in fact quite shrewd: he had first appeared candid about his background, then offered substantial incentives to win Fang Zheng over. Truth aside, the “bargaining chips” he presented proved he was no fool. The jade slip was useless to a man like him, regardless of what cultivation methods it contained. The talisman, on the verge of exhaustion, was nearly worthless as well. In trading both to Fang Zheng, he had struck a fine bargain. As for the “Taiyi Spirit Transformation Art,” the Daoist reserved it as a final guarantee, promising to hand it over only once their mission succeeded.

The “Taiyi Spirit Transformation Art” did indeed intrigue Fang Zheng. From what he knew, all the arts and techniques of cultivators required spiritual energy as their foundation; even magical artifacts that could be used by ordinary people ran on spirit stones, and talismans that mortals could use were exceedingly rare due to material constraints. Fang Zheng had studied the tiger talisman: while it could store some spiritual power, it still required spiritual energy to activate. This suggested that the “Taiyi Spirit Transformation Art” could grant ordinary people a measure of spiritual power—a rare and wondrous method, even if its effects were limited.

After striking their bargain, the old Daoist accompanied the Zhao family to their estate, and now resided in the same courtyard as Fang Zheng. The two had agreed to set out the following morning; according to the Daoist, the spot marked on the map lay over five hundred miles away. The round trip would take several days at the very least. Before embarking, Fang Zheng needed to make arrangements for the young girl—after all, he could not predict what dangers awaited, and could not risk bringing her along.

He planned to leave her here for a few days, but as they had only arrived last night, and he was unfamiliar with the Zhao family’s true circumstances, he was still uncertain. The remarks of the old man from Black Tiger Mountain, Zhao Zhong’s identity, and other such matters all made Fang Zheng slightly uneasy. Today, he intended to sound out the Zhao family and observe Zhao Muwan’s attitude before making a decision. If things truly seemed unsafe, he would have no choice but to bring the girl with him.

“Master Fang, are you awake? My lady has sent me to invite you for morning tea.” Just as Fang Zheng was lost in thought, Bi’er’s gentle voice came through the door, accompanied by a light knock.

He smiled, replying, “Ah, Miss Bi’er, I’m coming right out. Thank you for coming to fetch me.” Gathering up his belongings, Fang Zheng rose, pushed open the door, and stepped outside...