Bai Luo's handwriting was unforgettable.
There was only one situation where it looked neat and tidy—when he was writing Tartaglia's name.
To ensure that Tartaglia's name was clearly readable, Bai Luo would do his best to write it perfectly, without any mistakes.
But no matter how hard he tried, there were always some traces of his usual style left behind. After all, breaking a habit is no easy task.
Xingqiu was a talented individual. From a young age, he had been well-versed in business strategies and philosophical texts, though his calligraphy was slightly lacking.
Over the past few days, he had read The Legend of the Condor Heroes multiple times and had memorized the author's handwriting, along with many subtle details.
That's why he recognized Bai Luo's handwriting.
"Our family's techniques do include soul-tracking, but they're only used on spirits and demons. We've never used them to track a person before."
Chongyun sat in Heyu Tea House, looking somewhat uncomfortable as he spoke to Xingqiu.
It wasn't that he had any issues with Xingqiu; he simply disliked the bustling environment. Places that were too lively tended to clash with his constitution.
And Heyu Tea House happened to be one of the liveliest places in Liyue. It was hard not to suspect that Xingqiu had chosen this spot on purpose.
But considering Xingqiu's past antics, it was highly likely that he had done so intentionally.
Ah, this friend of mine is great in every way, except for his occasional mischievous streak.
Speaking of Heyu Tea House, it had long been a popular spot for Liyue's residents to loosen up after work.
The tea house's success was due to two main factors. First, the owner, Second Master Fan, ran the place exceptionally well, and the tea masters he hired were masters of storytelling, drawing in many repeat customers.
Second, the renowned Yun-Han Opera Troupe often performed here. Among the many opera troupes in Liyue, Yun-Han was the most famous.
The Yun-Han Opera Troupe had been passed down through generations of the Yun family, and its current head was the rising star of Liyue Harbor—Yun Jin.
On stage at that moment was none other than Yun Jin herself.
Knowing that Yun Jin was performing today, Heyu Tea House had been packed since early morning. Only someone as wealthy as Xingqiu could secure such a prime seat without waiting in line.
Who would have thought that the two people sitting closest to Yun Jin weren't paying any attention to her performance?
"A true hero serves their country and their people. Chongyun, you have no idea how righteous and heroic the person who wrote these words must be. If I can't find this person, I won't be able to sleep at night."
Pulling out a folding fan from who-knows-where, Xingqiu looked utterly despondent, as if he would take his own life if Chongyun didn't help him.
"Fine, I'll do as you say."
As an exorcist with a pure Yang constitution, Chongyun often relied on reason and logic to deal with spirits. But when it came to Xingqiu, none of that seemed to work.
After getting Chongyun's agreement, Xingqiu finally showed a satisfied expression.
Once Yun Jin's performance ended, Xingqiu had someone find them a quiet room, and the two began their search.
Exorcists, or Fangshi, were practitioners of mystical arts and numerology.
Mystical arts included medical texts, prescriptions, immortality techniques, and even bedroom arts—yes, that kind of bedroom arts.
Numerology, on the other hand, dealt with the principles of Yin-Yang, the Five Elements, and the Eight Trigrams.
In ancient times, Liyue was plagued by malevolent forces. During the Archon War, defeated gods were sealed beneath the rocks, their bodies eventually decaying and returning to the elemental cycle of the world.
Though their physical forms were destroyed, the evil thoughts of these gods lingered.
They polluted rivers and land, turning fertile soil barren. They scorned life, bringing grief to the people.
Xiao's duty was to resist these evil thoughts, which manifested as demons and malevolent spirits.
But the people of Liyue didn't leave the task solely to the adepti. Exorcists were born from this need.
While they might not be able to handle the powerful remnants of gods, they had developed two methods to deal with lesser demons.
The first was through incantations—exorcising evil and purifying the surroundings.
The second was through martial arts—overwhelming force and reasoning.
In simpler terms, elemental damage and physical damage.
Chongyun was different from others. He practiced both methods, which made his life much more demanding. Whenever Xingqiu came looking for him, he was either exorcising demons or training.
The method for tracking a person fell under the category of incantations.
It was less about tracking a person and more about searching for a soul. After all, exorcists had always focused on spirits and demons, never considering humans as targets.
So even Chongyun wasn't sure what the consequences of this would be.
But considering that his family's techniques had been used on ordinary people possessed by evil spirits, this method... probably still had some use.
"This is the original work. I borrowed it from Wanwen Bookhouse. And here's his signature. Let's try it."
Soul-searching techniques required items related to the target. Xingqiu, who often worked with Chongyun, knew this well and had prepared these items in advance.
"Fine, stand back."
With some trepidation, Chongyun applied the soul-searching technique to the items.
A deep blue talisman gradually formed above The Dihua Grass Sketch. After drawing something from the painting, it spun in place for a moment, as if searching for something.
Then, it shot through the window and flew out of Liyue Harbor.
"Follow it!"
After handing The Dihua Grass Sketch to a subordinate to return, Xingqiu grabbed Chongyun and chased after the talisman.
The fact that the person was outside Liyue Harbor didn't surprise Xingqiu.
He had used every method at his disposal, scouring the entire city without finding any trace of the author. It was likely that the author had fled to the mountains to avoid retaliation from the Fatui.
But as they followed the talisman's path, Chongyun began to feel uneasy. If he remembered correctly, the direction they were heading was toward an adeptus's abode.
Whether the author of The Dihua Grass Sketch was there or not, if their actions disturbed the adepti, they might face severe punishment.
Before long, the two had followed the talisman's trail to the vicinity of Mt. Aocang. But once they entered the mountain, Chongyun's connection to the talisman was severed.
"This is bad, this is really bad. We must have disturbed the adepti."
Chongyun knew his family's techniques well. In thousands of years, something like this had never happened.
Either the talisman had found its target, or a powerful being had severed the connection between him and the talisman.
Given that they were in the adepti's territory, he leaned toward the latter.
The elders of his family had repeatedly warned him never to disturb the adepti's meditation. Yet here he was, having caused such a disaster. What should he do now?
As the two panicked, a figure emerged from the forest, holding a faint, dissipating talisman between her fingers.
She looked at the two young men and asked in a cool voice, "Who cast this talisman?"