Eternal Life from Talisman Painting-Chapter 132 - 117: Method of Survival by Sacrificing an Arm
"Please, Mr. Yun."
Inside the cave mansion, Lin Chang’an poured a cup of fine spirit tea, while Yun Yao, maintaining a calm demeanor, removed her veil and disguise, revealing her true face.
"Mr. Lin, the scenery of your cave mansion is indeed quite splendid."
Outside, there were pavilions, ponds, and surrounded by cyan bamboo, with the Yinchuan Waterfall accompanying the cave mansion.
The intricately carved and painted pavilion connected to the cave mansion, where the spring water nourished, was surrounded by numerous spirit grass and flowers.
The opening in the sky above the cave mansion allowed the sunlight and moonlight to bathe the scenery, making it delightful.
An elegantly enchanting cultivation cave mansion.
Faced with Yun Yao’s praise, Lin Chang’an lightly chuckled and nodded, "It’s just a bit of leisurely enjoyment."
Although he was an ascetic, he wasn’t entirely devoid of understanding enjoyment.
While tasting tea, they talked from the cave mansion scenery to cultivation insights until the fifth pot of spirit tea was finished.
Between their exchanges, there seemed to be a hint of distraction from both.
Each time their gazes crossed, they immediately changed the subject.
As the sixth pot of spirit tea was taken, Lin Chang’an couldn’t help but shake his head inwardly.
The high-level spirit tea sent by the Zhou Family recently had been consumed, and now this sixth pot was brewed with ordinary spirit tea.
Beside him, Yun Yao appeared indifferent, seemingly oblivious to this fact.
"Brother Lin, congratulations on breaking through to a Tier Two Middle Grade Talisman Master."
Finally, Yun Yao took a deep breath, somewhat awkwardly clasping her hands in congratulations.
She was here today for urgent matters and could not continue drinking spirit tea.
"I have to thank Mr. Yun for your previous assistance."
Upon saying this, Lin Chang’an couldn’t help but feel a trace of embarrassment.
He actually wanted to express his gratitude for Yun Yao’s help, whether it was the talisman inheritance once given at Cyan Bamboo Mountain Market, or the previous bur.asting talisman inheritance.
Yet Yun Yao seemed to have not caught the subtlety, maintaining her composure as she gently set down her teacup and softly said:
"I wonder, Brother Lin, when can we start?"
"Hmm, right now."
"Now!?"
A flicker of panic crossed Yun Yao’s eyes, but she still managed to nod coldly.
"Okay."
Straightforwardly, Yun Yao didn’t hesitate, ready to untie the white jade belt around her slender waist.
Upon witnessing this, Lin Chang’an took a deep breath, knowing he was serious in his professional domain.
"Mr. Yun, I’ve prepared the secret chamber; no one will disturb us."
"Alright."
Lin Chang’an led Yun Yao into the prepared secret chamber.
Inside, natural spring pools fumed with mist, and there on the side lay Lin Chang’an’s prearranged spiritual brush and cinnabar for talisman drawing.
Amidst the white mist, Yun Yao’s earlobes flushed red, and she took a deep breath, acting boldly and freely, though her smile seemed stiff.
"Brother Lin, use what I prepared."
Yun Yao took out a small bottle of fiery red cinnabar from her storage bag, and as soon as it was opened, the rich spiritual energy startled Lin Chang’an.
"Tier Three cinnabar."
"Yes."
Hearing the affirmative tone, Lin Chang’an couldn’t hide his admiration. In the Immortal Cultivation Realm, wealth wasn’t everything; without strength and connections, some high-level resources were simply out of reach.
"I understand."
Within the thin mist, the white jade belt was undone, followed by the cloud-patterned white outer garment.
Beneath it was a form-fitting garment embroidered with cloud patterns, revealing skin as fine as congealed fat.
In the mist, Yun Yao’s delicate skin quickly blushed crimson, her face beautifully drawn, eyes like lacquer, and lips like cinnabar.
"Brother Lin, I’m ready."
"Alright... alright."
Seeing the last inner garment fall, Lin Chang’an took a deep breath, focusing intently as he picked up the spiritual brush, dipping it into the Tier Three cinnabar Yun Yao had prepared.
As the flaming red cinnabar touched the brush, Yun Yao’s snowy white skin instantly turned red.
The scorching aura furrowed Yun Yao’s brows, every brush stroke of Lin Chang’an felt like a hot branding iron, deeply penetrating the bones.
Bursting talismans, drawn upon a cultivator’s body, was an extreme secret technique.
The process of creating them was excruciating.
The cultivator’s skin becomes the talisman paper, with flesh and blood as guidance, able to unleash terrifying power in life-death moments.
Rumor has it, a late-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator once pulled six peers along in similar circumstances.
The power could rival a Golden Core cultivator’s strike.
The cost, however, was the cultivator’s life.
"Mr. Yun, bear with it. If it gets too hot, I have Ice Heart Pills."
This pain was bone-deep, and Yun Yao endured silently, only earning Lin Chang’an’s admiration.
"No... it’s fine, I have Ice Soul Pearls!"
Eventually, Yun Yao, pale-faced and barely enduring the pain, was afraid to make a sound for fear of embarrassing herself before Lin Chang’an.
Her trembling lips opened slightly, and an Ice Soul Pearl exuding cold floated nearby, bringing some relief.
The entire process was silent; Yun Yao gritted her teeth, pain written all over her face, cold sweat streaming down, while Lin Chang’an was likewise drenched in sweat, not daring to slacken for a moment.
Drawing talismans on a cultivator’s body required meticulousness, and at several points Yun Yao’s cooperation was essential.
Several hours later...
"Gulp... gulp!"
Within the cave mansion, Lin Chang’an, drenched in sweat, downed a cup of spirit tea in one gulp.
Panting heavily, he was inwardly astounded; the secret technique of drawing talismans on a cultivator consumed tremendous mana and energy.
"Thankfully my mana is abundant and I am uniquely gifted."
On the other side of the cave mansion, Yun Yao’s back was turned to him, trembling slightly as she donned her Dharma robe, only to wobble as she turned, almost falling.
