The next day, Zhang Fan arrived at the company very early.
Last night, through Wang Xuanqing’s Primordial Spirit fragnt, he managed to catch a few clues about the Wuwei Sect.
Wang Xuanqing’s [God Capturing] certainly has so history, but his Primordial Spirit—whether because it’s a fragnt, or soone had tampered with it—the crucial mories were just a foggy spread of starlight, utterly impenetrable.
Still, Zhang Fan could be certain of one thing: Wang Xuanqing had definitely co into contact with the Wuwei Sect.
During that incident ten years ago, when Zhang Fan ran into the Great Night, there were also experts from the Wuwei Sect present.
Since he ca down from Zhenwu Mountain, he’s also dealt with the Wuwei Sect’s Thirteen Zodiacs; it seed he shared an inexplicable fate with this generation.
Now, with Zhang Lingzong missing and the Evil Gods nowhere to be found, if Zhang Fan wanted to uncover the truth from ten years ago, he’d have to start with these demon folk.
So he’d put great effort into searching Wang Xuanqing’s Primordial Spirit fragnt—even though the key pieces were lost, it wasn’t entirely fruitless.
"Xiong Qianxing fell into his hands, and there was soone else that night..." Zhang Fan mused.
"Wang Xuanmiao!"
This was the most critical piece of information he had. If his guess was right, this woman should also wield the Wuwei Sect’s [God Capturing] technique.
"I have to request a leave today—leave early."
As soon as he walked into the company, Zhang Fan realized everyone had arrived earlier than him, already bustling about at their tasks.
On Jiang Hu’s desk sat a stack of talisman paper; bent over, he was writing furiously, painting talismans.
Wen He, like the neighborhood big sister, was looking after everyone’s logistics: soy milk and coffee, buns and fried dough sticks, egg pancakes and breakfast burgers—everything one could want.
Even Jiang Lai stood quietly nearby, grinding ink for Jiang Hu in silence.
"What’s going on?" Zhang Fan couldn’t help asking.
"Fanfan, coffee or soy milk? Bun or pancake?" Wen He’s pretty face wore a gentle smile as she asked with care.
"Sister Wen, I’ve already eaten. What are you all doing?" Zhang Fan asked again.
"Isn’t tomorrow the Seven Evening Festival? We’re painting so [Harmony Talismans] to raise funds for the company," Jiang Hu replied without looking up.
"Harmony Talisman!?"
Zhang Fan did know that the Maoshan Shangqing Sect indeed had such a talisman. Supposedly, if you made one and hung it over your bed, even an eighty-year-old bachelor could find true love overnight.
If lovers or married couples placed this talisman under their pillows, it could resolve grudges and foster harmonious affection.
"But isn’t it true that [Harmony Talisman] can’t use ordinary talisman ink?"
Since consuming the [Evil Gods], Zhang Fan’s knowledge had grown by leaps and bounds; naturally, he knew how this kind of talisman was actually crafted.
To make the [Harmony Talisman], you needed a very special talisman ink, that required pollen from an extrely rare flower...
This flower was called [Manjushaka].
The Nanyang Strange Chronicles records a passage about it.
During the Eastern Jin in Futu County, there was a remote mountain village, ho to a young girl nad Jiao’e. Beautiful from a young age, she was still a child when matchmakers from the neighborhood were already lining up outside her door—everyone said she was bound to have a wonderful marriage soday.
At twelve, Jiao’e entered the mountains to gather herbs and encountered a strange flower. This flower blood in a flash—when the blossom shows, the leaves fall, never to be seen together again.
She found it curious and wanted to pick it, but when she drew near, the flower disappeared. That night, Jiao’e fell gravely ill with a persistent high fever, and it took more than half a month to recover.
Since then, every night she dread of a man coming to et her; the man had a faint scar like blood on his forehead.
Over ti, the two grew to love each other deeply, their longing rooted in their souls, a love never fading.
Years later, Jiao’e reached marriageable age, but she refused to marry anyone, insisting that Heaven had already destined her match and she’d wait for the man to appear.
Everyone thought she was mad and gradually drifted away. Years later, her parents died in grief, and Jiao’e remained alone—the man never appeared in life, only visiting her in dreams each night.
So it went. Ti showed no rcy. Jiao’e grew old, her looks long gone. One day, a baby boy was born in the village—his newborn cries loud as a bell.
Jiao’e arrived and saw the boy; on his forehead was a faint mark of blood.
Tears blurred Jiao’e’s vision; that night, she passed away.
Afterwards, the story spread. So said the strange flower Jiao’e saw as a child was the Manjushaka—born along the Yellow Springs Road. n and won are ant to be together, but if they cross Yellow Springs Road and see the Manjushaka, they will never et again, for endless lifetis.
The flower was not ant to be in the world of the living. Jiao’e encountered it, and so she t her destined one, but in the end, they still missed each other.
The flower and its leaves are never seen together—eternally missing, forever longing. That is the strange magic of the [Manjushaka]. Yet its pollen is the most fated substance for union in the world. If used as ink to draw [Harmony Talismans], it is said to bring about miraculous harmony in love.
"Damn, Gourd, you really deserve to be called a Maoshan Daoist. You actually got your hands on Manjushaka?"
Zhang Fan certainly knew that [Manjushaka] existed only in legend. In ancient tis, you might stumble upon it in remote mountains and great swamps; perhaps near the Xiong Family’s Yellow Springs you might find one.
But nowadays, it’s almost impossible to find.
Therefore, even the Maoshan [Harmony Talisman] is rarely ever crafted.
Zhang Fan hadn’t expected Jiang Hu to be so capable, managing to obtain even the long-lost [Manjushaka].
"Where did you find it?" Zhang Fan couldn’t help but ask.
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