Chapter 117: rit
Yellow parchnt fluttered in the air, caught in a rhythmic, artificial draft. One by one, talisman brushes rose, guided by an invisible hand. Hundreds of sheets of paper swirled in a srizing vortex around Li ng’s head as the brushes danced across them in perfect synchronization.
The cinnabar ink transford into a vibrant crimson serpent, weaving through the storm of paper and leaving glowing runes in its wake. Yao Ning and Zhang Shan stood frozen, their mouths agape. They had never witnessed such a feat; to control a hundred objects at once required a ntal fortitude that defied logic.
Was the art of Talismanry truly this simple? In less than twenty breaths, the air stilled. Li ng swept his arm out, and hundreds of Mid-Grade First-Order Revitalization Talismans descended, stacking themselves neatly on the floor like honeybees returning to a hive.
"Distribute these to the people of the West City District," Li ng commanded, his voice calm but firm. "They are to be worn or carried. Make it clear they are not to be dissolved in water and swallowed. I am a cultivator, not so charlatan peddling 'miracle water' to the gullible."
Zhang Shan snapped out of his daze and hurried forward to gather the talismans. He carefully placed the stacks into a heavy wooden crate and rushed toward the entrance. Outside, the soldiers of the local garrison were peering anxiously at the closed doors, wondering what the legendary Demon Hunters were doing within.
The heavy doors creaked open, and Zhang Shan erged with the crate. "To the Magistrate Office! Move!" he barked. The soldiers took the weight of the box and sprinted into the morning mist, their boots echoing against the cobblestones.
Over the next several days, Li ng did not leave the tavern. He beca a machine of divine production, alternating between periods of intense crafting and deep ditation to replenish his Mana. Ti blurred into a cycle of ink, parchnt, and spiritual light.
One morning, a familiar chi resonated within his mind.
[Heavenly Dao System Updated] [ 5000 rit]
Li ng paused his brush. "rit? What use does this have?" He summoned his status window and scanned the Treasure Pavilion. Aside from a new attribute line labeled 'rit,' nothing else had changed. The store offered no new items for this currency—at least, not yet.
With a graceful flick of his sleeve, Li ng sent the latest batch of talismans flying into their container. He exhaled a long breath and leaned back, letting himself fall. He landed softly against Yao Ning’s lap, startling the girl.
She let out a small gasp and hurriedly shoved a basin of cinnabar water aside to keep it from splashing him. "I'm exhausted," Li ng murmured, closing his eyes. "Let rest a while."
Yao Ning’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink. She looked down at the man resting against her. Since his breakthrough to Foundation Establishnt, he had shed his withered appearance; though his hair remained as white as fresh snow, his face was youthful and radiant, possessing a sage-like dignity.
Yet, for all his transcendent aura, he had beco increasingly... forward. Yao Ning didn't mind. She had already accepted that she was to be his Dao Companion. If Dual Cultivation was her destiny, then these small monts of intimacy were a welco precursor.
"Hehe, quite substantial," Li ng chuckled softly. From his position on her lap, the "view" was obstructed by her soft curves, preventing him from even seeing her face. He took a deep, contented breath, inhaling the natural, floral fragrance of her skin.
"Any news from the city?" he asked.
"The talismans are working wonders, Senior," Yao Ning replied, her voice soft as she looked down at his "white hair, youthful face" features. "The commoners are regaining their strength. The prefecture officials have been begging for an audience to thank you, but I turned them away."
"Good," Li ng replied. "Those of the mountain must keep their distance from the mortal realm. Getting too close only invites the entanglent of karma."
"I understand. I won't let them disturb your peace."
Li ng smiled. He could sense her Affection had climbed to 55 points over the last ten days. Whether she had misunderstood the nature of their relationship or simply grown fond of his presence, he didn't care to dwell on it. He enjoyed her company, and that was enough.
He sat up, flicking his sleeve once more to set the brushes back into their rhythmic dance. "Let us finish this. Once the city is stable, we return to the sect."
Yao Ning’s heart gave a sudden, violent thud against her ribs. Return to the sect? That ant their Dual Cultivation would truly begin. She touched her burning cheeks, her mind racing with a mixture of trepidation and shy anticipation.
Half a month passed. The turmoil of Lijiang City finally began to ebb as the pestilence that had choked the West City District for half a year vanished as mysteriously as it had arrived. But for many, the relief was overshadowed by grief.
The West City District looked as though it had been blanketed by a heavy snowfall. White funeral banners and paper offerings lined every street, a sea of frost-white mourning. In Fish Dragon Alley, the sound of a woman’s wailing pierced the air, carrying her sorrow into the distance.
In one small courtyard, a woman knelt before a stretcher covered in a white cloth. Beneath the sheet lay only a ceramic ash urn. Whether the remains inside truly belonged to her husband was a question the chaos of the plague had left unanswered.
Outside the gate, a crowd of neighbors watched in somber silence. Chen Erhu nudged his companion, Li Erniu, giving him a aningful look. Erniu, a burly man with a red face, stepped forward, his eyes fixed on the grieving widow.
"Sister-in-law!" Erniu roared, his voice cracking with nerves. "I am Erniu! If you don't despise ... I... I'll take care of you and the child!"
The woman froze, her wailing cut short by the sheer volu of his declaration. She slowly raised her tear-streaked face, her gaze locking onto the two n standing in her garden.
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