After leaving Baishan Sanatorium, Jiang Yan waited at home for two weeks before receiving word from He Qingyuan.
During these days, He Qingyuan had been preoccupied with Pingping’s situation. Overusing her ability in the past year had overloaded her spirit body and shortened her lifespan. He Qingyuan took her to several temples in search of medicine and finally managed to gather all the necessary herbs for her recovery.
On the first of June, Jiang Yan went to the Supernatural Administration Bureau after breakfast.
Although He Qingyuan was the Deputy Director, he was not at all imposing. When Jiang Yan arrived, he was sitting at the front desk on the third floor, surrounded by a group of psychics seeking advice. Holding a yellow talisman, He Qingyuan patiently explained its details to them, his expression gentle and kind.
The whole scene felt particularly warm, inexplicably evoking the word “legacy.”
Yet, for anyone who noticed the white flowers scattered throughout the hall, that sense of legacy took on another layer of meaning.
The bodies of the four who had previously gone to the Cangnan Funeral Home had been recovered.
According to Chen Xici’s will left before her departure, her grave was built alongside that of her close friend, Zuo Tunan. The Cangnan Funeral Home was now officially listed as an SSS-rank mission, unclaimable.
But things continued to deteriorate. Several disappearances had recently occurred within three kilometers of the Cangnan Funeral Home, leaving over a dozen families teetering on the brink. It could be foreseen that these people had, in all probability, been swept up by the expanding energy field.
And as ordinary humans, any who entered that energy field were doomed.
Yesterday, the Bureau decided to dispatch seven psychics to Cangnan. Four of them ranked among the top fifty, and the team leader was the abbot of an ancient temple, a spirited elder in her seventies.
As Jiang Yan paused to look at the large screen in the center of the hall, the seven arrived at the Bureau.
The old woman leading the group wore a grave expression. Leaning on her cane, she walked slowly to the front desk, input her credentials, and officially accepted the mission.
Every psychic in the hall turned to watch them.
Some greeted them enthusiastically.
Others exchanged high-fives with acquaintances in the group.
A few handed out their freshly exchanged talismans.
“This might be useful.”
“I have a soul-guiding talisman here—it should help too!”
In moments like this, personal concerns seemed to evaporate. Some no longer cared whether a talisman in their hand was their own lifeline—they simply wished to protect those before them.
Jiang Yan stood to the side, arms crossed, leaning against a pillar.
Before leaving, the old woman noticed Jiang Yan. She covered her mouth and coughed softly, then, moving against the flow, walked up to her. “I watched your live stream. You’re very good.”
Jiang Yan raised an eyebrow.
The old woman continued: “If you ever have the chance, come visit Penglai Island. You remind me of an old friend.”
Jiang Yan: “An old friend?”
The old woman’s face, full of wrinkles, scrunched together. “Yes.”
Though her mind seemed sharp, her back was hunched with age. Jiang Yan nearly had to bend down to see her face clearly.
After a moment’s pause, Jiang Yan pulled a white porcelain bottle from her pocket.
“Borrow this.”
It was a Spirit Consolidating Pill she’d received after her first mission—a remedy for severely injured spirit bodies, the same one she’d used to save Cheng Guang previously.
The old woman looked startled, then smiled faintly.
“Thank you, little friend. I am an alchemist by trade—better that you keep it.”
Jiang Yan immediately put away the porcelain bottle.
The old woman inexplicably studied Jiang Yan’s face for a long while, finally letting out a sigh. Leaning on her cane, she turned and left the Bureau with her team.
Once the seven had gone, others in the hall gradually dispersed as well.
Jiang Yan walked up to He Qingyuan. “Let’s go.”
He Qingyuan stood, bid farewell to the surrounding psychics, and, without further ado, led Jiang Yan downstairs.
With rewards saved up from three rounds, plus her efforts in helping Pingping, Jiang Yan was entitled to choose two prizes from the Department of Yao Affairs. More importantly, He Qingyuan had promised to tell her information about the reincarnated Red Creek Empress.
Cheng Guang had once secretly brought Jiang Yan to the Yao Management Department. Although it was supposedly a secret, the security systems had, of course, still recorded everything, so He Qingyuan was fully aware but chose not to mention it. In silence, he pushed open the bureau’s door, lifted nine seals, and led Jiang Yan upstairs.
The remains of Bai Ze still stood on the second floor, radiating an overwhelming presence.
With prior experience, Jiang Yan had prepared herself in advance this time and did not feel overly uncomfortable.
She was, however, curious. As a yao that had existed since the time of the Classic of Mountains and Seas, Bai Ze could only have died in two ways: by choosing death— or being killed by another yao of equal rank.
Humanity could never have posed any threat to its life.
“How did you get it here?” Jiang Yan asked He Qingyuan.
He Qingyuan did not hide the truth. “It came of its own accord.”
“Its wife was gravely ill. The Bureau did have remedies, but they only treated the symptoms, not the root. After its wife died, in gratitude for the Bureau’s help in prolonging her life, it delivered its physical body and skills to the director at the time.”
Jiang Yan: “So it just died?”
He Qingyuan nodded, then shook his head. “We used heavenly treasures to forge it a human body. Its spirit left the beast form and entered the human one—it became an ordinary person.”
“Now, it tends to his wife’s grave every day. I visited half a month ago—it’s already over ninety years old, with little time left.”
Jiang Yan gave a sound of acknowledgment.
Seeing that Jiang Yan had no further questions, He Qingyuan headed past Bai Ze’s remains and into the storage.
He volunteered an explanation: “The Yao Management Department holds the Bureau’s highest-level rewards—each one encompasses a yao’s entire former life.”
An entire former life of a yao?
Jiang Yan wasn’t sure what he meant, but He Qingyuan had reached the storage room.
The door was cast in bronze, its ancient patterns bestowing a sense of great antiquity.
He Qingyuan broke the seals and pushed open the heavy door.
When Jiang Yan stepped inside and lifted her gaze, even she couldn’t help but instinctively hold her breath.
The sight was utterly breathtaking.
Hundreds of glass domes each held a suspended yellow talisman, and encircling each were either adorable or fierce little animals, or exquisitely crafted porcelain bowls, bronze vases, verdant plants, and luxurious flowers.
Each dome displayed a different tableau, all luminous and shifting, their forms ethereal as cloud or mist.
Perhaps sensing humans nearby, the beasts within growled low, the birds extended their wings, the armored figures boomed.
He Qingyuan murmured, “These are the true bodies of hundreds of yao.”
Jiang Yan surveyed the room.
A long while later, she asked, “How is this possible?”
He Qingyuan answered, “It’s Bai Ze’s innate ability—to make the complex simple, to transform yao into talismans.”
“Before leaving, Bai Ze sealed its powers into its own body.”
“Whenever a yao wishes to relinquish immortality and become truly human, it comes to the Bureau. Specialists forge an appropriate human body for it, then bring it before Bai Ze’s flesh.”
Jiang Yan: “And then?”
“Then, its spirit leaves the true body and enters the human form, while its original body is transformed into a talisman—a unique kind of talisman that cannot be inscribed or copied by any means.”
Just how powerful would a talisman distilling all the energy of a yao be?
Jiang Yan glanced around, then stepped up to the first glass vessel.
Inside was a bronze suit of armor, badly damaged, a piercing wound through the chest still stained with blood. The talisman derived from it was extraordinarily intricate, every inch of the palm-sized yellow paper covered with spells.
Jiang Yan glanced at the adjacent plaque; this suit of bronze armor was over 2,300 years old.
He Qingyuan, sensing her interest, began to explain. “This yao came to the Bureau twenty years ago. It always remembered its first master—a man you may have heard of, famed in the history books for his valor.”
“During the wars between two nations, that general died from a chest wound. The armor always believed it was to blame: if it had only been stronger, perhaps the general would have lived… It kept thinking that, and after taking human form, it spent its life searching for him.”
Jiang Yan: “And afterward—did it give up?”
“It searched for over thirty lifetimes. It said that always being forced to watch from afar was unbearable—better to simply grow old and die as one.”
Jiang Yan nodded.
She bent to read the fine script beneath the plaque, which detailed the talisman’s abilities.
[Can ignore any physical attack three times.]
[If used by another yao of the same kind, can enhance their abilities.]
Ignore any physical attack.
That meant the most powerful weapon in the world could not pierce it—meaning the psychic in possession of this talisman had three extra lives.
Jiang Yan straightened after a few moments’ thought.
She continued deeper inside; each talisman had its own story, each stood for a bygone era.
Before long, Jiang Yan paused before another glass case.
Inside this one was a small crow.
He Qingyuan’s voice came from behind. “This is Yu Renwan’s mother.”
Jiang Yan raised an eyebrow.
“She came when carrying Yu Renwan,” He Qingyuan explained.
“She’d been wounded by a natural enemy; her true body fell into the yard of a home outside Yincheng. At the time, Yu Renwan’s father was recuperating there. He cared for the injured crow for two months. After healing, Yu Renwan’s mother took human form to engineer a few ‘chance meetings,’ and eventually the two married and had a child—a happy ending, more or less.”
Jiang Yan found this story clichéd. “She worried he’d discover her true identity?”
He Qingyuan shook his head. “No, it was for Yu Renwan’s sake.”
“She’d been hurt. During pregnancy, her body was extremely weak. The instincts of yao differ from humans—in her case, her body, trying to save itself, began to cut off nutrients to the baby and several times even tried using magic to strangle Yu Renwan in the womb.”
“She desperately wanted to be a mother, so she came to the Bureau.”
Jiang Yan bent down to read the words on the plaque below.
[Can curse any spirit body, at any level, three times.]
[If used by another yao of the same kind, can enhance their abilities.]
She pondered a moment, but said nothing and moved on.
The talismans here were without peer, of a quality altogether above the common sort.
Surveying it all, Jiang Yan could understand why He Qingyuan was so stingy—her carefully saved rewards from three rounds could only be exchanged for one of these talismans, and that only because He Qingyuan was bending the rules for her.
After two full hours of examining the displays, Jiang Yan finally stopped.
She was at the far end of the vault, where a bronze wall held three exquisitely crafted glass vessels. Only the rightmost bottle still contained anything.
Inside was a small crimson dragon with a human face and serpent body.
[Derivative Talisman of the Torch Dragon.]
[Can turn back time by three seconds.]
A time-based talisman?
Jiang Yan studied the case carefully. The Torch Dragon was famed even in the era of the Classic of Mountains and Seas. Though the power described here fit its legend, she doubted such a mighty being would ever have chosen to abandon its kin and become human.
Besides, the talisman’s function…
He Qingyuan’s words confirmed her thought: “It’s just a derivative talisman.”
“Because of Bai Ze, the Torch Dragon helped us forge this talisman. I’m not sure exactly how—it was only Bai Ze who was present at the time.”
Jiang Yan gave a sound of understanding.
As she’d suspected.
An ancient yao with mastery over time—if this were truly the Torch Dragon, the talisman would not merely turn back time by three seconds, but could go back to any moment in time.
Jiang Yan did not spend long deliberating. She soon pointed at the derivative talisman. “I want this one.”
Truthfully, she had little use for defensive talismans, nor would she choose the others. After all, difficulties were ever-changing—any talisman could prove both useful and useless.
Given that, it made sense to pick the most valuable one.
Whether she needed it or not was immaterial—for future trades, it would secure her a dominant negotiating position.
Then Jiang Yan turned to look at the small crow.
“And that one.”
According to yesterday’s bulletin from the Bureau, the existing contestants’ groups would be locked, and the competition would shift from individual matches to team-based confrontations.
Since it was to be a team event, Jiang Yan had to consider each member’s role.
Yu Renwan’s powers were extremely useful: during the Baishan Sanatorium round, this had become clear enough. Without that serendipitous newspaper, Jiang Yan surely could not have deduced the truth by logic alone.
All deductions relied on clues—and uncovering hidden clues was Yu Renwan’s greatest gift.
So Jiang Yan decided to personally arrange for her upgrade.