Li Xin squeezed his way through the crowded stalls. The sound of footsteps, the cries of hawkers, the rustling of sun-dried tents in the wind. Amid all that noise, one sound quietly reached his ears—the slow turning of a grindstone. Following the sound, he saw an old man sitting beneath a worn tent. In his hands was an aged millstone. From beneath it flowed an unidentified liquid, shimmering with a refined sheen.

  “Do you have Flower Fragrance Grass powder?”

  At Li Xin’s question, the old man silently nodded and opened a box. Inside lay finely ground red powder. The color was even, and the scent was rich and deep. Scooping a bit with his fingertip, it felt soft and smooth, like silk.

  “Dried with a Drying Talisman. The fragrance lasts long, and the quality’s decent. Fifty jeon per portion.”

  Li Xin’s eyebrows twitched ever so slightly. Fifty jeon. With the money he had, buying even one portion would be the end.

  “May I see something else?”

  The old man nodded again and opened a second box. The color was duller, and the grain uneven. The fragrance was much fainter than the first.

  “This one’s thirty jeon. I dried it myself, so it’s a bit rough, but the energy’s intact. It just doesn’t smell as strong.”

  This one’s better.

  Li Xin bought the cheapest powder, only about two finger joints’ worth. The old man carefully wrapped it in thin paper and sealed it.

  “My thanks.”

  After the herb stall came the paper vendors. White Pine Paper was a special talisman paper made by infusing white paper with pine resin, commonly used by beginners. In truth, making White Pine Paper itself was not difficult, but it required a lot of work—Boiling wood, drying fibers, smoothing the surface.

  Considering the effort, it’s better to just buy it.

  On the display rack were neatly folded bundles of White Pine Paper. Li Xin chose those with even surfaces and a lively texture.

  “How much is this?”

  “Three jeon per sheet.”

  Li Xin checked his pouch again. He had thirty jeon left.

  “Eight sheets, please.”

  Eight sheets of White Pine Paper were neatly folded and handed to him. The price was twenty-four jeon. With the remaining money, he bought a single stick of ink for fragrant ink. A piece of ink about the length of a finger. When light struck it, a faint reddish glow surfaced.

  Fragrance powder, White Pine Paper, ink—the preparations for drawing the Concealing Fragrance Talisman were complete. However, Li Xin did not head straight home. Instead, his steps turned the other way, toward the commercial district of the inner area. In his robe still lay the unfinished three-stroke talisman. A brush tip that had been cut off while trying to lead somewhere. If that end could not find its intended path, the talisman could never be completed. As he walked, a worn signboard suddenly entered the corner of his vision. A modest shop, faded letters on the sign read, “Hundred Talisman Workshop, Talisman Specialty Shop.”

  He opened the door, and a man approached from inside.

  “Welcome. Are you looking for a particular talisman?”

  Neatly groomed hair, clean attire. As expected of a specialty shop in the inner district, his manner was well trained. Instead of answering, Li Xin slowly walked toward the display case. Inside transparent glass tubes, various talismans were neatly displayed.

  Protective talismans, enhancement talismans, healing, tracking, concealment—their forms, sizes, and manifested energies all differed. Li Xin’s gaze stopped when he saw one labeled as offensive. A structure composed of three strokes. The ink density, the curvature of the strokes, even the circuit of energy. It almost perfectly matched the talisman he had bought at the market.

  This is it.

  “You seem interested in the Flame Blaze Talisman.”

  The clerk stepped closer and added a careful explanation.

  “It’s commonly used in real combat. Among offensive talismans, it’s relatively easy to handle.”

  “How powerful is this talisman?”

  “It can inflict effective wounds on demonic beasts at the first realm, third layer. Of course, there are slight differences depending on the individual beast and the talisman’s quality.”

  Li Xin stared at the Flame Blaze Talisman again. The spacing between strokes, the pressure of the brush tip, the intersection at the center where energy converged. Everything followed orthodox standards, yet boasted a fairly high level of completion.

  “What’s the price?”

  “One hundred fifty jeon.”

  Li Xin frowned slightly. It was not cheap.

  “That’s expensive.”

  The clerk smiled awkwardly and nodded.

  “It’s because it’s a genuine piece. Talismans are graded by quality, you see.”

  “Genuine?”

  “Genuine means full efficiency—ten out of ten—able to exert all of the originally designed power. Below that is lower-grade, and above that is upper-grade.”

  “Is there anything higher than that?”

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  At Li Xin’s question, the clerk’s eyes gleamed faintly.

  “There is. It’s called ‘supreme-grade.’”

  “Supreme-grade…”

  “A supreme-grade talisman means efficiency has reached its extreme. Usually, only major sects or the Talisman Union can barely produce them. They almost never appear on the market.”

  Li Xin silently nodded. Storing even the smallest bit of information, he looked again at the Flame Blaze Talisman. The talisman in the display case was undeniably high in completion.

  ‘It’s orthodox, for sure. But that talisman felt like it was trying to contain something more.’

  The unfinished talisman he had found by chance at the market. Its third stroke was severed midway, yet that was not a mistake or a defect. Rather, it felt like a form that deliberately left open where the end should go.

  ***

  After leaving the shop, Li Xin stopped and took the talisman from his robe. On the palm-sized paper were three strokes, the final stroke was abruptly cut off, halted as if it had lost its way.

  Now he knew—the true identity of this talisman. A representative three-stroke talisman frequently used by cultivators in combat. An offensive talisman that gathered and discharged firepower, known for high efficiency and broad utility—the Flame Blaze Talisman.

  But knowing did not mean he could draw it. Li Xin quietly gazed at the unfinished talisman. The Flame Blaze Talisman was not simply a talisman that spewed fire. It was a delicate structure that gathered energy, focused it, then redirected and detonated it. Each stroke served a role—gathering, accumulating, and bursting. Only when the three flows circulated without colliding could manifestation succeed.

  It’s still impossible.

  Li Xin knew himself well. If he tried to forcibly restore it now—he would only end up burning this precious talisman to ashes. Talisman crafting was not something that could be forced. A talisman where energy did not flow became nothing more than a ruined scrap of paper.

  Li Xin carefully folded the talisman and tucked it deep into his robe. A treasure he could not yet use, but one he had to complete someday—a sign pointing toward the next step.

  Having settled his mind, Li Xin resumed walking.

  ***

  From that day on, Li Xin shut himself inside his home, and focused on only one thing: drawing Concealing Fragrance Talismans.

  He spread the talisman paper and lifted the brush, gathered energy and drew the first stroke, but not every talisman succeeded. The density of the fragrant ink varied, and unexpected variables often ruined the talismans. Only then did Li Xin realize just how high the quality of the materials Xu Renlu had provided truly was.

  Li Xin attempted ten Concealing Fragrance Talismans per day. As he repeated the process daily, the sensation at his fingertips grew increasingly refined.

  Half a month passed.

  The ink spread calmly across the paper, and the strokes connected clearly. At the moment he drew the hundredth Concealing Fragrance Talisman, unfamiliar lines suddenly appeared before his eyes.

  [You have completed the Concealing Fragrance Talisman.]

  [The energy of concealment seeps into your body.]

  [The Concealing Fragrance Talisman has fully taken root in your body.]

  [No further changes will occur.]

  Li Xin quietly set the brush down, then slowly drew in a deep breath. At that moment, a faint fragrance tickled the tip of his nose—a scent both familiar and hard to describe.

  The coziness of cloth dried well under sunlight. The freshness of a morning after rain. The clear breath of wind blowing from distant mountains—a fragrance that burdened no one, yet gently loosened the heart. This was not merely the effect of a talisman. It was, in itself, a form of energy that had taken root in Li Xin’s body.

  And the changes did not stop there.

  [You have fully internalized the Concealing Fragrance Talisman.]

  [Conditions met.]

  [You comprehend the spell art ‘Art of Tracking Fragrance’ from the talisman.]

  The Art of Tracking Fragrance. As the name suggested, a spell art for “tracking fragrance.” But it was not a simple technique of smelling scents. When he closed his eyes and opened them again, the world had changed.

  This is…

  The fragrances drifting through the air took on form, rippling through his vision like streams of light.

  Li Xin unconsciously reached out. When his fingertips brushed a thread of fragrance, the light wavered vividly. As he infused spiritual power, the ‘information’ carried by the scent seeped into his senses. The time someone had stayed in this space. The smell of the clothes they had worn. Even the lingering trace of the food they had eaten that morning.

  Fragrance was a kind of memory. Invisible to the eyes, inaudible to the ears, yet undeniably present—a different kind of trace. The Art of Tracking Fragrance was a spell art that pursued those traces.

  This will be extremely useful.

  But his admiration was brief. Li Xin soon furrowed his brow. His head throbbed, and his fingertips tingled. He felt the energy within his body rapidly draining away—as if a small hole had opened, spiritual power leaked out in a steady stream.

  What Li Xin perceived was not a simple illusion. The cost of materializing and interpreting the sense of fragrance was far from small. The wider the range, the longer the duration. The spiritual power consumption increased exponentially.

  …I can’t use this often yet.

  Li Xin slowly closed and opened his eyes. The traces of the Art of Tracking Fragrance vanished from his vision, and the streams of light in the air gradually faded.

  At his current state, he had no leeway to operate this spell art frequently. A technique to be used only at truly necessary, decisive moments. Still, he could be certain. As his realm rose and he grew accustomed to this spell art, the Art of Tracking Fragrance would become another weapon protecting his life.

  One hundred Concealing Fragrance Talismans. The profit earned from selling them far exceeded Li Xin’s expectations.

  A total of two thousand jeon. For a mountain-born cultivator, and one only at the second layer of the first realm, it was an absurd sum, but it was also money that inevitably drew attention.

  Li Xin looked at the money in his hand and quietly exhaled. Until now, when he only drew Strength Talismans or Lightness Talismans, no one paid him any heed, but now it was different.

  A low realm of the first realm, second layer, yet a rather impressive income. The world had a term for such people—“perfect prey to be devoured.”

  Li Xin whispered to himself, “If I grow careless, I’ll die.”

  Just because nothing had happened so far did not mean nothing would happen in the future. He had to secure his own safety himself, so Li Xin decided on the next talisman he would draw—the two-stroke Lightness Talisman. If he could not fight, then he had to at least run, and to run, he needed to be one step faster than others. Fortunately, the talisman method for the Lightness Talisman could be obtained even at the market, and its difficulty was relatively low. If he focused for about ten days, he should be able to fully internalize it.

  With the remaining money, I’ll buy pills and raise my cultivation even a little.

  Li Xin draped his outer robe over himself and slowly stood up, and just as he was about to open the door—a thin, light sound sliced through the wind.

  Li Xin instinctively lowered his body. A talisman cut through the air and stopped in front of him. His heart pounded.

  Li Xin narrowed his eyes.

  “…A Message Transmission Talisman?”

  A Message Transmission Talisman.

  A directive talisman that flew toward exactly one designated person.

  Li Xin carefully lifted the talisman. A faint reddish afterglow shimmered softly on the paper’s surface, and on the back of the flipped talisman, a single neatly written line.

  [Come to my house.]

  A short, concise sentence. As far as Li Xin knew, there was only one person who would use a Message Transmission Talisman and call him so directly.