Chen Gensheng sat in the center of his courtyard and laid out his recent purchases. He took stock of his assets: the three hundred spirit stones from the mission and the hundred or so from the Butterfly’s ring, minus the hundred and sixty spent on materials, left him with roughly two hundred and seventy low-grade spirit stones.
Not a fortune, but enough to sustain a period of steady cultivation.
He opened the Introduction to Talismanry and began to study. Guide Qi into the brush, concentrate intent onto the paper. Eight simple words, yet they stood as a chasm that countless fledgling cultivators failed to cross. It required drawing the spiritual energy from the Dantian like silk from a cocoon, guiding it through the meridians of the arm into the tip of the brush, and sketching runes that contained the truths of Heaven and Earth in a single, unbroken breath.
Any lapse in focus or control would cause the Qi to spiral out of bounds, incinerating the paper.
Gensheng set the booklet down. With one hand, he poured cinnabar into a small dish. With a second, he added a drop of clear water. With a third, he pricked his index finger to squeeze out a drop of his Essence Blood, infused with his primal insect nature.
As the three mixed, the dull red cinnabar instantly became vivid, emitting a faint warmth of Yang energy and a metallic sweetness. He picked up the wolf-hair brush with a fourth hand and soaked it in the mixture.
He intended to start with the simplest: a Cleanse Talisman.
Following the manual, he attempted to mobilize his chaotic Five-Element Qi, guiding it down his right arm. But the moment the energy left his core, it turned into a wild stallion, lashing out against his meridians.
His wrist jerked. Sizzle. The brush left a jagged, scorched streak across the paper. The spiritual light collapsed instantly, and the sheet turned into a pile of grey ash. Gensheng looked at his trembling right hand. His roots were too cluttered; his Qi was naturally difficult to harness. Using the "standard" method was inefficient and wasteful.
His gaze slowly drifted to his five other arms hanging at his sides. An idea took root.
Moments later, he shifted his posture.
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Top-Left Hand: Firmly pinned down a fresh sheet of green bamboo paper.
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Bottom-Left Hand: Held a stack of spare paper, ready for an instant swap.
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Middle-Left Hand: Held the cinnabar dish with absolute, unmoving stability.
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Top-Right Hand: Gripped the wolf-hair brush, the tip hovering just above the paper, coiled like a spring.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
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Bottom Two Hands: Quietly wove together in front of his chest, forming a strange, intricate Hand Seal.
The moment the seal was complete, the chaotic Five-Element Qi within him was suddenly reigned in by an invisible leash. It became more obedient than ever before.
Gensheng’s eyes sharpened. His brush hand descended.
Like a dragon dancing on paper, the Qi flowed as a tamed stream from the source of the hand seal, pouring precisely into the brush tip. A fluid rune was completed in a single breath. A pale yellow glow flickered on the paper—a perfect Cleanse Talisman was born.
The entire process took less than a heartbeat.
Gensheng looked at the finished product, then at his six specialized hands. So... this is how they are meant to be used. Without a trace of emotion, he immediately began the next one.
Light-Body Talisman.
With the first success as his guide, he became even more proficient. Six hands moved in perfect synchronization: pinning, dipping, sealing, and drawing. It was like flowing water, utterly without friction. Perhaps because it was too smooth, the Qi he infused was significantly faster and denser than the manual required.
The moment the brush left the paper, an anomaly occurred.
Instead of the usual faint glimmer, the paper erupted in a brilliant burst of cyan light. It was piercing, carrying the sharp edge of a gale. When the light faded, the runes on the paper were no longer the simple patterns from the Introduction. The lines had become complex and profound, faintly forming the shape of a miniature cyclone.
Gensheng held the mutated talisman between two fingers. He could feel the energy within—it far surpassed a standard Grade-1 talisman. This was no longer a mere Light-Body Talisman; it was a degraded version of a Gale-Warding Talisman.
This skin is indeed my greatest asset.
For the next ten days, the gate to Unit A-19 never opened.
Gensheng immersed himself entirely in the art. In the courtyard, the pile of failed ash grew taller, but before him, the stack of talismans shimmering with cyan light grew thicker. By the time the last jar of cinnabar was empty, fifty mutated Light-Body Talismans sat neatly arranged before him.
He stowed them away and headed straight for the market.
He didn't waste time setting up a stall. Instead, he walked toward a stand selling low-grade artifacts where several Outer disciples were arguing over the price of an inferior flying sword.
"Senior Brother, I’m heading out of the valley and just need a decent tool. Fifty-five stones, sell it to me!" "No way. At least sixty."
Gensheng waited for the crowd to thin, then stepped up and pulled a cyan-glowing talisman from his sleeve. "Use this. It's faster than that sword."
The disciple’s eyes went wide. "Is this... a Grade-2 Gale Talisman?"
"Twenty stones," Gensheng said flatly.
The disciple swallowed hard. He looked at the mediocre sword on the table, then at the clearly extraordinary talisman in Gensheng’s hand. "Deal!"
Within half an hour, waves of people had come and gone. By the time the last talisman was snatched up by a female disciple, Gensheng possessed a total of one thousand, two hundred and seventy low-grade spirit stones.
A mutated talisman had stirred a small storm in the Outer Sect. Some said Unit A-19 housed a hidden genius; others said he’d stumbled upon an ancient inheritance. All the while, the man at the center of the rumors was back in his shack.
He greedily inhaled the dense spiritual energy of the valley. Under the forced constraint of his six-handed seal, the chaotic Qi was kneaded, compressed, and used to flush his meridians over and over again.
Time passed without notice. Two months vanished in the blink of an eye. The decennial Outer Sect Martial Competition had finally arrived.
Before dawn, three long tolls of a bell echoed through Maple Red Valley. Outer disciples poured from their dwellings, faces flushed with excitement, converging toward the Martial Arena.
The door to Unit A-19 creaked open. Chen Gensheng, dressed in a clean cyan disciple's robe, stepped out. He glanced at the pale dawn on the horizon and merged into the human tide.