Chapter 63: The World Within the Painting (First Subscription Requested~)

The jade arc known as the Friendship Invitation Arc was summoned once more and drifted slowly toward the painting. In the corner of the painting, near the seal, there was a black lion. Though small in form, the lion’s jaws gaped wide. The jade arc floated before the painting, then merged into it, transforming into a piece of azure jade held in the black lion's mouth.

Ignoring the other cultivators, Che Ning stepped forward and vanished into the painting itself.

"This is no illusion array..." Song Yan stared in shock. "There’s an entire world within the painting!"

The other cultivators were equally astonished but did not hesitate. The three itinerant cultivators moved together, Wu Zheng and his old friend Wei Dao paired up, while Song Yan joined Rong and Wu. Each group stepped into the painting, and the scar-faced cultivator followed alone.

As they approached the painting, the colors and inks swirled like drifting water. When fingertips touched the painting, it felt as if they touched a stream.

A low hum sounded.

Crossing the threshold and opening their eyes again, they found themselves in an entirely different scene.

"This sensation is much like being cleansed by the Water Curtain Technique..."

"Fellow Daoist Song," Wu Zheng said, "we are not oath-breakers. If there truly is a supreme spiritual treasure here, my wife and I will do our utmost to help you obtain it."

"My wife and I seek nothing more than a few spiritual items for our family's juniors. If there are artifacts or pills, we hope you will let us claim them."

Song Yan nodded. "That is only fair."

Only upon entering the world within the painting did they realize that their location corresponded to the place they had chosen to step into on the scroll.

There was no one else around.

They stood in a mountain forest, distinctly unique for its abundance of purple flowers and leaves.

The three climbed a stone path. To the left lay an open flatland and dense woods; to the right, low gullies resembling a small canyon. In the distance, beyond the canyon, the scenery was utterly different.

A suspension bridge connected the two areas.

"It seems to me," said Wu Zheng, "that Che Ning must have fortuitously inherited the relics of someone who once knew the predecessor Lin Qinglong, which is how he came by the Friendship Invitation Arc."

The Invitation Arc was akin to a formal invitation in the mundane world. Cultivators would use it to invite others to their homes or to discuss the Dao, but it possessed additional mystical effects.

Yet Song Yan was not pondering this. Instead, his mind dwelled on Wu Huaguo’s ability to discern truth from falsehood. The scar-faced cultivator’s earlier question had awakened him to something.

Suppose Che Ning declared, "I want only the calligraphic treasure in this abode," and it was the only thing present—then, strictly speaking, he would not be lying.

Back in the Lingyuan Marsh market, Song Yan had first learned of Wu Huaguo’s ability but did not understand its full scope, and had been startled. Now, it seemed there were many restrictions. If warned in advance, there were many ways to guard against it. He felt inexplicably relieved.

"This Lin Qinglong was a formidable Foundation Establishment cultivator, but to maintain such a celestial mansion and spiritual treasure would consume immense amounts of spiritual power..." Wu Zheng mused. "I suspect this painted world is either not very large, or it contains spiritual objects capable of absorbing and storing spiritual energy to sustain it—or perhaps both."

"If we want to compete for treasures, we must act quickly!"

"Agreed!"

The three of them urged their spiritual power and hastened their pace. Instead of crossing the bridge toward the canyon, they turned left.

Ahead lay a crescent-shaped clearing. Purple leaves drifted down from the trees, carpeting the ground in a violet path. By the path stood a small wooden hut.

The three exchanged glances and cautiously opened the door with a push of spiritual energy.

Nothing happened.

The hut was small, containing only a simple wooden table and bed, nothing like the dwelling of a Foundation Establishment cultivator. On the table lay a handkerchief, apparently mundane, its age evident from the corrosion and tears. Apart from that, only miscellaneous odds and ends could be found.

A sudden rustling caught their attention. They left the hut.

Outside, the purple leaves scattered on the ground were swept up by a gust of wind, transforming into a blue-violet spiritual light that gradually took on human form.

"Summoned by cloud and rain, laughing as thunder rolls... traversing the heavens, emerging from darkness into light..."

A blue-violet talisman spirit materialized before them, its voice carrying an ancient cadence.

"I am the Talisman Puppet, commanded by my master to guard this realm. Any intruder shall be slain on the spot!"

A violent wind swept in!

Song Yan felt a chill within the gale, his protective spiritual garment nearly torn to shreds by the force.

Wu Huaguo warned, "This Talisman Puppet has no intelligence, but its spiritual power rivals the late Qi Refining stage!"

Song Yan had heard of Talisman Puppets. They were typically crafted from spirit talismans into humanoid forms. Lacking sentience, they followed their maker’s commands. Their operational time could be extremely long, and some could absorb and store spiritual energy on their own. They were often used to guard abodes or sects. Normally, when their master died, they would no longer activate.

But for some unknown reason, this puppet had reawakened.

Fierce winds and whirling leaves blotted out the sky. The three felt their vision darken.

Song Yan suddenly sensed a gathering of blue-violet spiritual energy around him, the pace quickening alarmingly.

"Be careful!"

The Unmoored Boat was summoned in an instant, slicing through the purple-leaf barrier as the three retreated.

A thunderous bolt crashed down from the heavens, blasting a pit where they had just stood.

"Go!"

Rong Xiaofeng formed a peculiar hand seal with his left hand, and countless black specks shot out from behind him. The humming sound was the beating of insect wings.

Song Yan focused—countless black insects swarmed toward the talisman spirit, passing through its body. Some dropped to the ground, emitting wisps of black smoke.

Rong Xiaofeng’s brows furrowed as he declared, "Strike both wrists at once!"

Song Yan understood; the puppet’s weak points had been found—disturb both at the same time, and the puppet would be undone. He silently admired Rong Xiaofeng’s decisiveness. For an insect cultivator, these spirit bugs were as precious as flying swords to a sword cultivator; their loss would be deeply felt.

The puppet, lacking intelligence, unleashed thunder techniques at their position without pause. The three narrowly evaded each strike.

Catching a gap as the thunder spell was cast, Song Yan and Wu Huaguo exchanged a glance and attacked simultaneously.

The Unmoored Boat flashed like lightning, striking the left wrist. Wu Huaguo pressed his palms together; a green spiritual light flared as a slender branch burst from the earth, swift as a needle, piercing the right wrist.

The puppet’s movements suddenly faltered, its spiritual glow becoming rigid and stiff.

"My master..." it intoned.

Even with the might of late-stage Qi Refining, the puppet was crumbling now that its vulnerabilities had been breached. In moments, it collapsed, dissipating into a cinnabar talisman that drifted to the ground with the purple leaves. Atop it rested a faintly glowing, pale purple spirit stone.

"A mid-grade spirit stone?!"

Thank you to readers Ancient Sword of Cold Forest, Leaf Falls in Autumn fj, and Another Day of Idly Waiting for Death for your monthly votes! Thank you all for your ongoing support!