135: Chapter 135 Wang Qingcheng and Yang Yang

Several wild peach trees were planted on the hillside, and most of the flowers had already withered. When the wind blew, they rustled down, covering the ground with a thin layer of pinkish-white.

Wang Qingcheng sat cross-legged under the tree, resting her cheek in one hand, tilting her head to look at Yang Yang.

Yang Yang was the son of Old Yang, who had helped the Wang family resolve the hidden trouble of the Black Fiend back then, and he possessed a mixed Five Elements Spiritual Root Aptitude.

Ever since Old Yang died, Yang Yang, as Old Yang's son, should have originally stayed in the Wang family to serve as a family general, but Yang Yang politely declined.

Instead, relying on himself, he carved out quite a reputation in the Loose Cultivator circle. The Talisman produced by Yang Yang was already the top-tier Talisman in the Three Counties.

Among these changes, Old Yang's death dealt him a heavy blow. His father's lifelong wish had been fulfilled, and as a son, he did not hate the Wang family; he only hated his own low strength, having to watch his father act as bait with his own body.

Wang Qingcheng liked watching him draw Talismans.

This person was usually sullen, answering only when asked a question, but once he picked up the Talisman brush, his whole person changed—his brows slightly furrowed, his lips pressed into a line, and the tip of the brush moved extremely slowly across the Talisman paper, as if wrestling with something invisible.

When the Talisman was completed, he would let out a light breath, using the pad of his finger to rub the edge of the Talisman paper where there was always a tiny bit of undried ink. He rubbed it every time, and after rubbing, disgusted that his finger was dirty, he wiped it on his trousers.

The first time she saw him wiping his fingers like this, she thought to herself: "How can this person draw Talismans just like farming?"

"Why do you always look at me?" Yang Yang didn't raise his head, steadily hooking the final stroke with the tip of his brush before lifting his eyelids to look at her.

When he asked this, the tips of his ears were a bit red, shining translucent under the sun.

"Who is looking at you? I am watching you draw Talismans."

She justified herself, shifting her cheek to her other hand while still staring at him: "You are such an interesting person, drawing Talismans is like embroidery, so slow. I see Sixth Brother and Seventh Brother draw Talismans so fast, swish swish swish and it's done."

"They are just rolling in wealth, can this be compared?"

"They may be fast, but five out of ten have to be scrapped and redone." Yang Yang put down the Talisman brush, picked up the newly drawn Talisman paper, held it up against the setting sun, and blew on the non-existent dust on it.

"Drawing Talismans is like embroidery, it cannot be rushed. Do you think it's going to a market?" Saying this, he handed the Talisman paper in front of her: "Here, the Wind-Swift Talisman you wanted, put it away properly."

Wang Qingcheng took it, and instead of putting it into her Storage Pouch, she held it in her hands and looked at it back and forth.

Those Talisman patterns were slender and smooth, and Spiritual Qi slowly flowed along the lines, shimmering with an extremely faint silver light under the sunlight.

She had seen many people draw Talismans; there were veteran masters in the market town who specialized in drawing Talismans for others, drawing them fast and well, but not a single person's drawn Talisman patterns were like his. The place where he finished his strokes always hid a tiny, minute arc, like a little hook, hooking three parts of Spiritual Qi into the entire Talisman.

She had once taken the Talismans he drew to ask an appraiser of Wanbao Pavilion. That old man looked at it for a long time and said that the person who drew this Talisman had very steady hands and an even steadier mind, being material that could draw top-tier Talismans.

She didn't tell him this, afraid that he would become arrogant.

"Yang Yang," she suddenly called out to him, her voice as crisp as a freshly picked water chestnut. "Why don't you stay in the market town to be a full-time Talisman master? With the kind of quality you draw, if you hang a sign at Wanbao Pavilion, you can make at least four or five hundred Spirit Stones a month, which is much better than taking odd jobs everywhere like you do now."

He was stunned for a moment, probably not expecting her to suddenly ask this.

After a long while, he finally lowered his eyes and put the Talisman brush back into its sheath, moving very slowly as if thinking about how to answer while packing it.

In the end, he said: "You earn more in the market town, but it's not free. As a Loose Cultivator, I'm used to being wild and can't stay in one place."

"Did you say that to your grandpa before too?"

His hand stopped for a second, and then he continued to put the Talisman brush into his Storage Pouch, carefully tying the rope at the mouth of the pouch before letting out a soft "en".

The mountain wind rolled up from the bottom of the slope, messing up the stray hair in front of her forehead.

She raised her hand to tidy it, suddenly feeling a little regretful for mentioning his grandpa.

She had heard her eldest brother talk about Old Yang's matter. That old man, in order to avenge his wife, willingly acted as a suicide agent for the Wang family, his Divine Soul completely destroyed, not even leaving himself a chance of Reincarnation.

After he left, Yang Yang never returned to Wogui Mountain again.

"My grandpa always said that my talent for drawing Talismans came from my grandma." Yang Yang suddenly spoke, his gaze falling far away, his voice very soft, as if talking to himself.

"I haven't finished speaking yet." She cleared her throat, forcing herself to pull the topic back.

"I mean—if you don't want to be tied down by the market town, why don't you come to my workshop? My place is just lacking someone who can draw Talismans. I'm not recruiting you, it's serious; I can't afford to support you, but my dad will shell out the Spirit Stones."

She raised her face, looking at him with sparkling eyes, and said half-jokingly and half-seriously: "You just draw your Talismans, and the induction array patterns and driving cores on the Puppets will all be managed by you. How about it, Great Master Yang, consider it?"

Yang Yang turned his head and looked at her earnestly for a long while.

Her eyes were very bright, as if holding a small pool of the setting sun.

He suddenly smiled, revealing a row of white teeth, which made his dark face look a bit more vivid: "Does it include food and lodging?"

"Included! It even includes fish! Spiritual Fish all you can eat!" She patted her knee with an all-inclusive posture, like negotiating an incredible business deal.

"Then it's a deal." He imitated her tone, but the smile in the depths of his eyes grew a bit deeper: "No going back on your word."

She gave a heavy "en", feeling that she had accomplished a big event today.

When the setting sun sank to the peak of the mountain, neither of them spoke again. She continued to ravage her peach blossoms, and he continued to pack his Talisman brush.

The wind came down from the mountain, rolling up the fallen petals all over the ground, and a few pieces landed on her hair.

He saw it and wanted to pick it off for her, but his hand stopped halfway. In the end, he only lowered his eyes and said in a voice only he could hear: "You said just now that you like watching me draw Talismans."

He paused and swallowed the second half of the sentence back into his heart—the person who draws Talismans also likes watching the person who likes watching him draw Talismans.

Wang Qingcheng was the apple of the Wang family's eye, and furthermore controlled the core Puppet industry of the entire Wang family.

Such a proud daughter of heaven, was he worthy of her?

"You scoundrel!" Wang Shouyi let out a furious roar like a thunderclap, startling flocks of wild birds all over the mountain into flapping up in alarm. He had already charged toward the hillside like an enraged fierce tiger: "How dare you flirt with our Qingcheng! You have tired of living!"

Beneath the hillside, several figures turned out from the edge of the dense forest.

Wang Shouyi walked at the very front, still carrying that heavy sword broken in half on his shoulder, his whole body covered in blood and dust mixed together. From afar, seeing the two figures sitting side by side on the slope, he was first stunned, then narrowed his eyes, his expression changing drastically.

Although Wang Qingcheng was the Young Miss of the Wang family, in this desolate wilderness, an unfamiliar man was sitting beside her, and the two were sitting so close—the string in his brain snapped with a "hum".

The few Wang family Disciples behind him hadn't reacted yet, but Wang Shoudong had already reached out to hold down a young man beside him who wanted to follow, his face showing helplessness.

Dan Linger poked her head out from behind Wang Shoudong, stood on tiptoes to glance up the slope, and then looked at Wang Shouyi's figure rushing out an afterimage, saying crisply: "Is Third Brother Wang trying to kill someone?"

Yang Yang reacted extremely quickly. Almost instinctively, he took a half-step sideways, shielding Wang Qingcheng behind him. A crimson Talisman slid out of his sleeve into his left hand, and his right hand was already pressed against his waist.

He did not retreat, his feet nailed to the spot as if they had grown roots, his entire body tense like a fully drawn bow.

People born as Loose Cultivators, the more caught off guard they were, the less they would flee—fleeing would only expose their backs to the second wave of murderous intent coming from who knows where.

His fingers clamped the Talisman, his knuckles slightly turning white, his pair of eyes locked tightly onto the charging Wang Shouyi, like a lone wolf driven into a corner.

He recognized Wang Shouyi, recognizing the lotus pattern on the lapels of the Wang family Disciples, but as a Loose Cultivator, at a time like this, he even more could not retreat.

If he retreated, he would never dare to sit upright beside her ever again.

"Brother Shouyi, what are you doing!"