Director Wang watched Su Ye eating a bun and realized something was not right. This was not food.
He looked at Chen Qing, who was still writing at the table.
"Sir " Director Wang changed his tone becoming respectful. "You are a master. We did not see that coming. About renting a place or maybe a short appearance in our show? I can offer you a contract. Five million yuan per season!"
Five million. The villagers outside would faint at this number.
Chen Qing finished writing. He lifted the brush.
"I am not interested in money " Chen Qing said. ". You are too noisy."
"Sir everyone has a price " Director Wang stepped closer trying to look at what Chen Qing had written. "Is that calligraphy? I know some collectors..."
Director Wang looked down at the paper.
There was one character written on the white rice paper:
[ 静 ]
The moment Director Wang's eyes focused on the character his brain screamed.
To his eyes the black ink strokes seemed to twist and turn into a dragon. The character wasn't ink; it was a huge crushing pressure. It felt like a mountain was dropping on his head.
"Argh!"
Director Wang screamed, covering his eyes. He stumbled back falling onto his butt. Tears were streaming down his face. "My eyes! My eyes are burning!"
"Director!" The crew rushed to help him.
"Don't look at the paper!" Director Wang shrieked, terrified. "Don't look at it! It's haunted!"
Chen Qing blew on the paper to dry the ink. He looked confused. "It's the word 'Quiet'. Your mental state is too chaotic, Director. You cannot bear the intent."
Chen Qing picked up the paper. Handed it to Su Ye, who was currently the only one not offending him.
"Hang this on your tent outside " Chen Qing said. "It will keep the mosquitoes. Bugs away.. It will keep the noise down."
Su Ye took the paper with trembling hands. She glanced at it quickly. She didn't feel pain, a deep profound sense of peace as if she were standing in a silent bamboo forest.
"Thank you Master " Su Ye bowed deeply.
"Go now " Chen Qing waved his hand.
The crew dragged the sobbing Director Wang out of the courtyard.
Outside the gate Su Ye hung the paper on the tent pole as instructed.
Miraculously the moment the paper was hung a visible ripple of air spread out for ten meters. The buzzing of the mosquitoes stopped instantly. The wind died down. Even the heat of the sun seemed to cool.
Inside the circle of the "character the temperature was a perfect twenty-four degrees Celsius. Outside the circle it was a thirty-five degrees.
The cameraman, standing on the edge reached his hand in and out. "Hot... Cold... Hot... Cold... Holy sh*t."
• "Physics has left the chat."
• "Is that an air conditioning talisman?!"
• "He wrote one word. Created a domain? Is he a Cultivator?!"
• "Forget the show! I want to buy that piece of paper! I'll pay ten million!"
In a skyscraper in Beijing, an old man in a robe was watching the livestream on a tablet. He stood up fast his chair fell over.
"Sword Intent! That is Supreme Sword Intent infused into calligraphy!" The man's hands shook. "Book a flight to Peach Blossom Village. Immediately! The Ancestor has appeared!"
The peace created by the "talisman lasted until noon.
Just as the film crew was napping in the bug-free air a roaring sound shattered the tranquility.
Whup-whup-whup-whup.
A black helicopter with no markings appeared over the mountains. It circled before forcefully landing in the rice paddy field near the village entrance flattening the crops.
"Who is that?" Director Wang jumped up adjusting his glasses. "Are the investors here? Or the station chief?"
He ran towards the landing site, followed by the cameraman. The livestream viewers were equally curious.
• "A helicopter? Is this a movie set?"
• "That's not a chopper. That looks like a military-grade transport!"
The cabin door opened. A ladder dropped down.
Instead of a CEO in a suit or a general in uniform an old man wearing a grey Daoist robe climbed down. He had a beard reaching his chest and held a horsetail whisk in his hand. Despite looking eighty years old he moved with the agility of a cat.
Behind him followed two bodyguards in suits wearing sunglasses and exuding a cold murderous aura.
"Hello! Sir!" Director Wang waved his hands. "This is a set! You can't land here!"
The old Daoist ignored him completely. His eyes were fixed on the tent up the hill—specifically on the piece of paper hanging from the pole.
"The Intent... The Daoist Intent is soaring to the sky!" The man's eyes were filled with fanatical tears. "It is real! The livestream didn't lie!"
He rushed forward.
"Stop him!" Director Wang shouted.
A security guard from the film crew tried to block the man.
The old man didn't even lift his hand. He simply walked forward. An invisible wall of air seemed to surround him. The security guard was gently pushed aside by a force sliding three meters backward on the mud.
The old man reached the tent. He stood before the character [ 静 ]. His hands trembled as he touched the air around the paper afraid to touch the ink itself.
"One stroke to calm the world " the old man mumbled, his voice shaking.
He turned to Director Wang, his eyes burning. "Is the person who wrote this inside?"
Director Wang was terrified by the mans intensity.
The old man straightened his robes dusted off his sleeves and walked toward the gate. He didn't knock. He knelt down on the stone path outside the gate.
"Junior Qing Xu, of the Wudang Sect requests an audience with the Senior!"
His voice was amplified by energy echoing through the valley, like a bell.