Sword Sect Outer Sect

Chapter 325 The Blank Space in the Painting
"This is one of our ancestors' former residences, where he found solace in nature, entertained close friends, and contemplated the great path of painting and calligraphy, away from the mundane world."

Once all the hundred-plus cultivators had entered the secluded valley, Wu Xingzhi announced loudly, "Our ancestor set up the painting training ground here, not asking about cultivation level or background, but only seeking mastery of the art of painting."

"Fellow practitioners, since you have come here, whether to observe the ceremony or not, you are all people who are destined to be connected with our ancestors and with the art of painting."

In Fufeng County today, countless cultivators have come to visit because of the reappearance of Daozi's former residence.

However, only about a hundred cultivators were actually able to enter this secluded valley.

"After entering the garden, your cultivation levels may be temporarily sealed, all for the sake of fairness in the painting process."

"The opportunities and challenges during this process depend on one's painting skills, knowledge, and true self. Observers must also abide by the rules, and may observe closely and silently feel, but must not interfere with the painting process."

"Now."

Wu Xingzhi stepped aside to make way for the entrance to the valley and gestured for them to enter: "Fellow Daoists, please follow me into the garden."

Only when this Golden Core cultivator from the Wu family spoke up did Lin Qing and the other Foundation Establishment cultivators finally feel relieved.

These black jade pieces have been chosen to serve people at various cultivation levels, from Qi Refining and Foundation Establishment to Golden Core.

Clearly, in the eyes of Senior Wu Daoxuan, those below the Golden Core stage, including those at the Golden Core stage, are all considered juniors.

If cultivation is not sealed, who knows what methods those Golden Core cultivators have that could affect the outcome of the painting refining?

However, most of the Golden Core cultivators present were likely just there to observe the ceremony.

Song Yan glanced at the four people not far away.

These people were cultivators from the Xuan Yuan Sect of the Chu Kingdom.

Two are at the early Foundation Establishment stage, one is at the late Foundation Establishment stage, and the last one should be at the Golden Core stage.

Song Yan was all too familiar with that late-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator.

It was Shen Yu, Elder Shen.

There were quite a few cultivators from the Chu Kingdom who came here. Apart from the Xuan Yuan Sect, all six major sects had a few lucky ones.

They were all led by elders at the Golden Core stage within the sect to participate in the painting refining.

Apart from their Dongyuan Sect.

It seems that only three people from Dongyuan Sect came this time.

Besides him and Lin Qing, there was another person, also a familiar face.

It was Sun Zhengfu's father, Sun Zhenglun, the elder guarding the sect's forbidden area.

He was also traveling with a friend, but that person was not a cultivator from the Dongyuan Sect.

Judging from the feeling Song Yan got from that person, he should be a Golden Core cultivator.

However, Song Yan did not go up to greet them or acknowledge them, because at this moment they had both changed their appearances.

Beneath the water-mirror headband, Song Yan now sported a face somewhat resembling that of Sheng Nian.

Quite mediocre, nobody recognizes him.

In the secluded valley, there is a courtyard, which appears to be the cave dwelling of Senior Wu Daoxuan.

The group followed Wu Xingzhi toward the mountain courtyard.

As soon as everyone stepped onto an open space outside the courtyard, a strange change occurred.

A strong wind suddenly arose in the secluded valley.

Everyone looked up and saw wisps of mysterious spiritual energy gathering in the mountains and landing outside the courtyard, in front of them.

The spiritual energy slowly gathered and transformed into a human figure.

When Wu Xingzhi finally saw the man's face, his pupils dilated, and he was utterly horrified.

"Ancestor!?"

Wu Xingzhi had seen this man's appearance countless times in the portrait in the family ancestral hall.

Within this desolate old home, there is actually a guardian spirit left by our ancestors.

Clearly, even Wu Xingzhi had not expected the situation he was facing.

According to records preserved within the Wu clan, their ancestors traveled extensively and wandered the world, establishing temporary dwellings in many places and leaving behind paintings.

But the stay is never very long.

Ink spirits usually only exist in the cave dwelling where the old man has lived for a long time.

To this day, the Wu family has searched for their ancestral home that is open to the public, and only once did the spirit of the guardian of the garden appear.

The opening of an ancestral home of this scale is, in principle, not something a mere Golden Core cultivator like him could manage.

No one had expected that so many like-minded people would have already entered the park, so Wu Xingzhi had no choice but to bite the bullet and continue.

In his mind, however, he was already thinking about how to report this matter to his family.

At the same time, I couldn't help but feel a little envious.

Therefore, it is certain that this garden contains extremely precious ancestral artifacts, and it is unknown which lucky person will be able to obtain such a treasure.

He quickly led the younger generation of the Wu family to bow and say, "This unworthy descendant Wu Xingzhi, along with Wu Shuhan, Wu Ye'an, and others, pays respects to our ancestor."

Etiquette is essential.

Seeing Mo Ling is like seeing one's ancestor.

By this time, everyone understood that this was an incarnation of the soul left behind by the Nascent Soul senior Wu Daoxuan.

No one dared to be disrespectful, and they all immediately paid their respects.

But then, Dao Zi Mo Ling slowly opened his eyes, his gaze seemingly flowing with ink, deep and indifferent.

A wisp of aura emanated from it, and everyone felt as if a mountain was collapsing, with an ancient and majestic pressure spreading out.

The air froze instantly.

Everyone felt their breathing stop abruptly, their muscles and blood vessels become sluggish, and even their mental energy becomes extremely sluggish.

Is this the immense power of a Nascent Soul cultivator...?

The mere presence of a guardian spirit was enough to terrify anyone.

The oppressive aura swept over like a tide, and Dao Zi Mo Ling suddenly raised his hand, a mysterious aura emanating from his fingertips.

Seemingly real yet illusory, ethereal as smoke.

It flowed from his fingertips and entered the bodies of all the cultivators present.

Whether it was the cultivators who participated in the painting procession, the people who accompanied them to observe the ceremony, or even the descendants of the Wu family, none of them were exempt.

Song Yan felt that the flow of spiritual energy in his body was instantly blocked by something, and even the connection between him and all magical artifacts and spiritual objects disappeared without a trace in an instant.

The people in the garden had completely shed their cultivation, and at this moment they were just like a group of ordinary people of all ages going on a spring outing.

"This...this is what it means to become a mortal?"

Someone in the crowd gasped in a low voice, their tone filled with fear.

The Golden Core cultivators who accompanied the ceremony frowned, subconsciously trying to activate their protective spiritual light, but to no avail; not even a ripple of magical power appeared at their fingertips, and their hearts sank.

The other cultivators were even more at a loss.

Although Wu had given a hint about sealing cultivation a long time ago.

But they did not expect that those accompanying them to the ceremony would also be subject to such restrictions.

Golden Core cultivators, who are used to commanding the wind and rain and being high above others, now feel extremely weak after losing all their cultivation.

However, with a mere wisp of this Nascent Soul cultivator's avatar right in front of him, the mere Golden Core cultivator dared not argue.

In the end, everyone simply nodded slightly and silently adapted to this sudden experience of being born as a mortal.

There were about thirty or forty cultivators in the crowd who vaguely sensed something.

One by one, dark jade pendants flew out of the Qiankun bag and hovered in front of everyone. Lin Qing glanced at them out of the corner of his eye and was astonished to find that a dark jade pendant was also hovering in front of his junior brother Song Yan.

"Junior Brother Song, you..."

"Uh, haha."

Song Yan was taken aback, then smiled somewhat embarrassedly.

"Senior Brother Lin, please don't misunderstand. I'm not trying to hide anything."

He originally only wanted to observe the ceremony, but he didn't expect that Senior Mo Ling would automatically identify the people participating in the painting process through this piece of black jade.

"I am completely ignorant of the art of painting. Perhaps it was only because I was the one who caused the collapse of the treasure map in Changping that I was given one."

"I figured I wouldn't embarrass myself that way. I originally just wanted to accompany Senior Brother Lin to observe the ceremony, so I didn't inform him..."

Lin Qing suddenly realized.

Xiao He was really unlucky. She initially transformed into human form and followed Song Yan to watch the fun, but her cultivation was sealed.

Not only did it turn back into a small snake, but it also became limp and weak, and its speech became incoherent, just like when it was hibernating.

Just then, Dao Zi Mo Ling slowly spoke: "The painting refining will take place here."

Concise and concise.

Immediately, an invisible force came, and all the cultivators who participated in the ceremony were moved several feet away.

The person who possessed the black jade was left standing there.

Strangely, Xiao He was also left behind, which relieved Song Yan.

Mo Ling pointed out in mid-air, creating invisible ripples in front of him.

Seven streams of dark light shot out from his fingertips, and in an instant, they burst forth with brilliance.

Seven scrolls surrounded the crowd.

hum-

At a certain moment, seven scrolls slowly unfolded before everyone's eyes.

Among them, there was a scene of golden lotuses filling the sky and Brahma's light shining everywhere. Arhats from the heavens could be seen with lowered eyes and brows, some glaring angrily, while compassionate Bodhisattvas sat cross-legged on lotus thrones, their appearances solemn and dignified; the shadows of Buddhas were faintly visible in the clouds, and the Dharma wheel turned gently.

There is also a place where the Yellow Springs gush forth, and the Gates of Hell open. One sees ferocious ghosts roaring and howling, ox-headed and horse-faced demons wielding ropes to snatch souls, judges holding pens, and Yama sitting upright—a scene of chilling terror. A dense aura of resentment permeates the air, making one's heart tremble.

The seven scrolls cover Buddhism and Taoism, gods and ghosts, figures, landscapes, birds and beasts, plants and trees, and pavilions.

Apart from Song Yan and Xiao He, everyone present loved painting. No matter which painting they looked at, they would be unconsciously drawn to it and stare in amazement.

Seven scrolls, each depicting a distinct scene, are suspended in mid-air, their beauty perfectly natural.

Even with their cultivation sealed, the sheer aura emanating from them upon eye contact instantly captivated everyone's attention!
only……

The scene depicted in this painting is not without its flaws.

In the core of each painting, there are some blank spaces.

Just as everyone was wondering what was going on, Dao Zi Mo Ling's voice rang out again.

"Each of you may choose one to enter the book, seek the Dao, and comprehend its true meaning."

"Complete the painting within seven days."

"Judging the quality and grade of a painting based on its final artistic conception."

"The spiritual objects and opportunities obtained in the painting are entirely up to each individual."

"The best painting may enter the garden behind me and take it away for my collection."

After speaking, without waiting for everyone to hear clearly, he condensed a wisp of ink, which turned into a stick of incense and placed it in the very center of the venue.

The incense immediately began to burn, but the smoke it emitted was black.

When the incense burns out, it will be seven days later.

Seeing this, no one dared to waste any more time. They immediately began to carefully examine the seven paintings, looking for the subject that best suited them or that they were most skilled at.

Each painting seems to be a world unto itself, with flowing ink and ever-changing scenery.

Based on their own strengths and their initial understanding of the artistic conception of the paintings, the participants lingered in front of two or three paintings repeatedly.

Occasionally, when they meet someone they know well, they will discuss things in hushed tones, creating a tense and focused atmosphere.

Some people feel pressed for time, while others don't know what they're supposed to do.

Song Yan stood still, watching the cultivators around him, almost all of whom were focused, many of them muttering professional terms he didn't quite understand, such as brushwork, layout, rhythm, and artistic conception.

I felt somewhat out of place in this space filled with artistic atmosphere, like a good-for-nothing hoodlum.

The purpose of accompanying Lin Qing here was simple: to relax and see for myself what the former residence of this legendary Nascent Soul Realm senior looked like.

Let's also take a look at how these masters from all over the world, who have achieved success in the art of painting, use their skills.

Who would have thought that this painting would be forced upon someone like this...

The thought of dissent flashed through his mind, and he then glanced at Dao Zimo Ling somewhat guiltily, afraid that Dao Zimo Ling would notice.

In the blink of an eye, someone had already chosen the painting.

Suddenly, the black jade in front of him transformed into a thick stream of dark light, which rolled up like a ribbon and instantly enveloped his entire body. The next moment, with a flash of light, he and the black jade disappeared from the scene at the same time.

Upon closer inspection, a small, brightly dressed figure suddenly appears in the blank space at the edge of the painting.

It was that monk.

He appears extremely small in the painting, standing amidst a garden pavilion, looking up at the scene with a face full of awe.

"Hahaha, senior's methods are indeed profound. The mountains and rivers are willing, and my heart belongs to them. Old friend, see you again in seven days."

An old man with an air of otherworldly wisdom suddenly burst into laughter, informed his friend, and then disappeared before the landscape painting, turning into an almost invisible ink dot on the bank of a stream.

Song Yan initially thought that everyone who came to participate in the painting competition did so solely to obtain the calligraphy and opportunities of the senior cultivators.

But there isn't really much of a sense of competition here.

Perhaps there are, but those are mostly pursuits of painting skills.

For these true art lovers, painting itself is a fun activity.

Thinking of this, Song Yan felt much more relaxed.

One after another, streaks of light flashed, and the cultivators disappeared from their spots, turning into tiny specks of dust within the painted world.

Xiao He fell asleep, and Song Yan tucked her into his sleeve.

Let's go and take a look at these paintings ourselves. We're just here to have fun anyway, so we can always just leave with a blank paper.

Furthermore, Daozi Moling also said that once you enter the world of the painting, you can take any opportunity you have. Regardless of whether it's about painting the Dao or not, just go in and have a look first.

He began to look at them one by one.

Although the Buddhist teachings were peaceful and serene, he felt a kind of invisible constraint, lacking freedom and spontaneity.

The realm of ghosts and gods, filled with demons and monsters, is dark and oppressive, and it's not his cup of tea.

Portraits of people...

Huh?
The portrait depicts a unique courtyard, and its style is very similar to the courtyard layout in this secluded valley.

In the courtyard, there were two figures, one of whom was holding a brush and sitting at his desk, splashing ink to paint.

Judging from his eyebrows and eyes, he bears a resemblance to Dao Zi Mo Ling.

Perhaps it was the work of the late Wu Daoxuan, depicting himself and his friends gathering here.

However, the friend not far away had no face, only a vague outline.

(End of this chapter)