Chapter 12 The Punishment of Yiling Patriarch
On the third day of his study session, Wei Wuxian explained how to draw the "Silver Needle Talisman." This talisman seemed simple, but it required precise control of spiritual energy. Even the slightest deviation would render it ineffective. Forcing it would backfire, leaving one feeling tingling and numb all over, making them feel uneasy and uncomfortable.
"The key to this spell is 'steadiness'. The spiritual power needs to be as fine and even as threading a needle. Don't be impatient." Wei Wuxian drew the talisman on the blackboard and emphasized his words. "Today we will only practice the drawing method. No one is allowed to activate it without permission. Those who violate the rules—" He raised the talisman paper in his hand and smiled slyly, "Just taste the power of this talisman."
Lan Jingyi secretly poked Si Zhui from below: "It doesn't sound difficult. I think Senior Wei draws it very easily."
Jin Ling also frowned and looked at the rune: "It's just a few broken lines, it should be..."
Before he could finish his words, Wei Wuxian's gaze swept over him: "Jin Ling, do you have any questions?"
Jin Ling quickly shook his head: "No."
But halfway through the lesson, some couldn't hold back. A few impatient young men from aristocratic families, finding the spells simple, secretly used their spiritual energy to activate their freshly drawn talismans while Wei Wuxian was explaining. Lan Jingyi, eager to try, followed suit, but as soon as his fingertips shone silver, Wei Wuxian caught him red-handed.
“Very good.” Wei WuXian clapped his hands, the smile on his face fading. “It seems everyone feels they’ve mastered it. In that case, let’s all come and experience it for ourselves.”
As he spoke, he pulled a stack of pre-prepared silver needle talismans from his sleeve. With a flick of his finger, the talismans scattered like flying catkins, sticking precisely to every disciple who had tampered with the talisman—even Sizhui was no exception. Just now, seeing Lan Jingyi in danger, he subconsciously tried to use his spiritual power to help him stabilize the talisman. Although he didn't succeed, the thought had entered his mind.
"Senior Wei!" Lan Jingyi gasped as he called out. The moment the talisman touched the back of his neck, a fine numbing sensation crawled up his spine, like countless tiny needles darting through his flesh. He couldn't sit or stand; he could only freeze in place, grimacing.
Jin Ling wasn't much better, sweat quickly beading on his forehead. He clutched the hem of his shirt tightly to keep himself from losing composure. The other children from the aristocratic families were making strange noises. Some tried to tear the talisman paper, but the spiritual power within was repelled, and the more they struggled, the more numb they felt.
Sizhui leaned back in his chair, feeling as if his back was crawling with ants, numb and itchy. The slightest movement felt like being pricked by needles, and even breathing had to be gentle. He knew his father was truly furious—the backlash from the spell, while not harmful, was enough to wear them down, meant to teach them the price of unrealistic ambition.
Wei WuXian stood on the podium with his arms folded, his gaze sweeping over the crowd: "Do you know where you went wrong?"
No one responded, everyone was gritting their teeth and enduring the numbness.
"I'm having you practice painting to lay the foundation for your skills." Wei Wuxian's voice deepened. "With talismans, even the slightest mistake can lead to a huge error. You're so eager to activate them today, but if you encounter danger during the night hunt tomorrow, will you also rely on brute force to force your way through?"
He walked up to Sizhui, looked at his son's tense face, and his tone lost its usual gentleness: "Especially you. You knew it was impossible, but you still followed the idea. Do you think your cultivation is sufficient, or do you think I can't bear to punish you?"
Si Zhui bit his lip, sweat dripping from his forehead onto his collar. "I know I'm wrong... I shouldn't have been so impatient, and I shouldn't have... broken the rules."
Wei WuXian said nothing more, turning back to the podium. “This talisman will lose its effect in three hours. Just sit here and think carefully about how to write the words ‘gradually and sequentially’.”
After saying this, he picked up the scroll and walked out of the school leisurely, leaving the room full of "tortured" disciples.
Lan Qiren happened to pass by and saw the mess inside. He frowned and asked the Lan family member guarding the door, "What's going on?"
"Sir, it was Senior Wei who punished them by making them stick silver needle talismans on them, saying that..." The disciple recounted the whole story.
After hearing this, Lan Qiren snorted, "Nonsense." But he didn't move. He stood at the door and watched for a moment. Seeing that Si Zhui was uncomfortable but still sitting upright without losing his composure, a trace of imperceptible approval flashed across his eyes, and he turned and left.
Three hours stretched as long as a century. Lan Jingyi went from initially grimacing to slumping, finally losing even the strength to speak. Jin Ling remained silent, his face pale as paper. Si Zhui closed his eyes, silently channeling his spiritual energy to try to ease the numbness, but the more he suppressed it, the more pronounced the backlash. He finally understood his father's intention—some mistakes can only be remembered through personal experience.
As the sun set, the talisman paper finally lost its luster and fluttered to the ground. Everyone felt as if they had been granted amnesty, slumping in their chairs, gasping for breath, their bodies drenched in cold sweat.
"Never again...never again..." Lan Jingyi said weakly.
Jin Ling rubbed the back of his neck and looked at Si Zhui: "Your father's trick is really cruel."
Sizhui smiled bitterly - he finally understood now that his father's favor and punishment were always clearly distinguished.
When he returned to the quiet room, Lan Wangji was warming tea. Seeing his pale face, he knew what was going on and handed him a cup of hot tea: "Sit down."
Si Zhui took the teacup, his fingertips still trembling: "Father..."
"Do you know you're wrong?" Lan Wangji asked.
"Yeah." Si Zhui lowered his head. "My child shouldn't be so ambitious and ignore teachings."
"The backlash of the silver needle talisman is uncomfortable?"
“…It’s not good.”
Lan Wangji put down the teapot, his eyes calm. "Wei Ying's punishment is justified. Learning the Dao is like climbing a mountain, one step at a time, a stone staircase at a time. If you miss a step, you won't reach the top. He made you suffer this punishment today because he feared that you wouldn't even have the chance to regret it in the future when you find yourself in real danger."
Sizhui held the warm teacup in his hand, his heart suddenly brightening. Although his father's punishment was harsh, it taught him in the most direct way: the price of rushing for success is often more painful than failure.
At night, Wei Wuxian came in with a bowl of ginger soup. Seeing Sizhui staring blankly at the candlelight, he smiled and said, "Are you still savoring the taste of the silver needle talisman?"
Si Zhui looked up, his eyes red: "Dad, you're too cruel."
"If I don't treat you harshly, you won't remember." Wei Wuxian sat beside him and ruffled his hair. "You're my son, so I have to punish you even more. It's okay for others to pamper you, but your father and I can't. You're going to be able to stand on your own in the future. How can you be so unbearable if you can't even bear this little pain?"
He scooped a spoonful of ginger soup and handed it over: "Drink it, it will drive away the cold. If it comes back next time, it won't take three hours."
Si Zhui obediently drank the ginger soup, the spiciness rising from his throat to his stomach, warming his eyes. He knew that the person who loved him most in this world was also the one most willing to punish him. And those painful lessons would eventually be like stone steps, paving the way for his growth, allowing him to walk more steadily and further.
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