Compared to orthodox Daoist Arts in today’s Cultivation World, Talismans had truly fallen into decline.
Talismans had limited potential. Most Talismans served as disposable tools—either for fighting or escaping. Sure, so could be used to set up Formation Arrays, but those drained huge amounts of energy and Magical Power. Over ti, they faded into obscurity.
Chen Changsheng later asked Chenghuang about the contents of the Hundred Solutions Talisman. But Chenghuang knew little. One point stood out, though.
Hearing Chenghuang’s words, Moyuan nearby gasped. “An Ancient Tis Talisman guide is inside!?”
Chenghuang nodded. “Yes. But those Inscriptions were too complex and obscure. I never learned them—could never draw them. Besides, there were notes about Talisman Arrays. Those were even harder to grasp.”
“But you lost it!” Moyuan widened his eyes. “How could you misplace such a treasure!?”
Chenghuang spread his hands. “No choice back then. I ran for my life and forgot all about it.”
Chen Changsheng nodded. “It seems this Hundred Solutions Talisman truly is a powerful technique.”
Chenghuang agreed but felt no regret. He frankly knew this wasn’t his calling. Plus, he relied on external thods to activate Talismans—it just didn’t suit his path.
Chen Changsheng thought for a mont. “I will keep this jade vial here with for now. After studying it, I will return it. Agreed?”
Chenghuang readily consented. For Mr. Chen, he’d part with anything.
After Mr. Chen left the front courtyard—
Moyuan rushed over, questioning, “You didn’t say ANY of that just now, when you handed the vial!”
“Master Chen WILL give it back.”
“So… you think MOYUAN won’t return it!?”
“Of course not. Bro Mo, when did you ever borrow? You always just snatched things!”
“…”
Moyuan felt speechless. “Are you truly stupid? How did I get stuck with a little brother like you?”
He waved dismissively, mildly annoyed. “No talking to for three months.”
Chenghuang’s eyes flashed.
Was… that a reward?
…
The setting sun dipped westward.
Chen Changsheng toyed with the jade vial, clueless after long inspection. The bottle seed utterly unremarkable.
It rely held Magical Power, like one of his own hairs.
Chen Changsheng shook his head. His Divine Sense drifted toward the temple entrance.
“Hmm?”
Amused at first… he abruptly paused upon sensing two figures ascending the mountain.
“How did those two end up together?”
He stroked his chin and chuckled. “Interesting indeed.”
Flowing Cloud Temple opened its doors. Neither guest was ordinary—so Chen Changsheng specially brewed tea.
This tea was gifted by a shopkeeper long ago… still unfinished after all this ti.
“Lu Shang” and “Zhao Xinglong” climbed higher.
Zhao Zhen asked, “This Autumn Moon Market truly hides immortals? Even Civic District folks whisper about it?”
Shang Lu gave a warm smile. “Possibly.”
Gazing at the Taoist Temple, nostalgia washed over him.
He recalled roughhousing there with his Senior Brothers and Sisters… often earning Master’s cane strokes. Ti had flown, leaving the temple eerily quiet.
“Strangers? Mortals?”
Moyuan debated opening the door… until a voice sounded from the inner courtyard.
“Moyuan, let our guests in.”
“Yes, Sir!”
Moyuan now understood—anyone summoned by Mr. Chen was clearly significant.
The temple gates opened. Moyuan awaited the two.
“Gentlen, Sir Chen has long awaited,” Moyuan announced. “Please.”
The pair exchanged a glance.
Zhao Zhen seed puzzled. Shang Lu, however, appeared utterly unperturbed.
“Let’s proceed.”
Shang Lu thanked Moyuan as they passed.
Zhao Zhen hesitated, eyeing the temple plaque, ‘Flowing Cloud Temple’.
Do immortals truly dwell here?
His thoughts drifted to the exiled Shaoqing erging from Autumn Moon Market… and the late “longevity-whispering” Daoist who also spoke of this place.
Approaching Moyuan, Zhao Zhen asked, “Might a certain Mr. Chen reside here?”
Moyuan assessed him. Since their ascent, he’d faintly sensed Human Emperor Fortune upon this man.
But strangely… another carried a different kingdom’s protection.
Two Mortal World emperors… together here?
Moyuan snapped to realization. Ignoring the question, he remarked, “You must possess many treasures?”
Zhao Zhen paused. “Pardon?”
Moyuan stretched his palm. “The toll, please.”
Zhao Zhen nearly laughed. “Know you… ahem.” Catching himself, he asked instead, “Why didn’t you tax him?”
“re oversight.”
With a cold laugh, Zhao Zhen retorted, “You court death!”
He barely uttered it before being interrupted.
Narrowing his eyes, Moyuan gave a sly grin. “So long as I guard these gates… neither Heaven nor earth grants passage without my word. One re Mortal World emperor? You’re dust.”
Zhao Zhen’s eyes flashed with murderous intent.
“Excuse ?”
Moyuan glared back—a shiver of Dragon’s Might surged forth.
Like a popped bubble, Zhao Zhen’s fury evaporated. Cold dread spread down his spine. His arms shook uncontrollably.
Stunned… confusion and fear clouded his vision.
Moyuan declared, “Give a sliver of your Fortune energy… and I permit entry.”
Zhao Zhen frowned again. The words unnerved him… yet he couldn’t recall what just befell him.
What demonic trick did this man use?
“You peddle cheap deception,” Zhao Zhen snapped.
Moyuan eyed him. “Enter freely once you consent.”
Direct theft was impossible. A Human Emperor held Heaven’s favor—unauthorized plundering defied celestial law.
“And if I accept? What then?” scoffed Zhao Zhen, brushing it off.
“Good.”
Moyuan smirked and stepped aside.
Zhao Zhen glared coldly and marched inside the temple.
The instant he crossed the gate… sothing inexplicably tore loose from him.
Turning, he found Moyuan watching him with playful satisfaction. “My thanks.”
Zhao Zhen snorted, dismissed it, and proceeded onward.
Moyuan examined the faint trails of Fortune swirling on his fingertip—muttering softly.
Human Emperor Fortune…
Truly distinct indeed.
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