Young master, why not become a corpse immortal?

Chapter 387 The Pursuer Looks Back
The little incident made the atmosphere more tense, but Ye Wanzhuang, who was the instigator, seemed to be completely unaware of anything amiss and continued grinding ink on her own.

After a short while, everything was ready, and Ye Wanzhuang picked up her brush to paint.

The moment the pen touched the paper, her aura changed drastically, becoming as still and imposing as a mountain, radiating an indescribable pressure.

The peace and tranquility vanished, replaced by an awe-inspiring and undeniable, majestic aura, as if it held the reins of the universe.

Lin Jiang stared at her, and for a moment he had a strange feeling that it was not Ye Wanzhuang who was holding the brush at this moment, but Zhao Liulang who commanded thousands of troops and looked down on Daxing.

Although she wasn't commanding troops on the battlefield, she was nonetheless the supreme commander within this small canvas, the direction of her brushstrokes.

Ye Wanzhuang was already immersed in the world of painting, completely forgetting herself as her brushstrokes flowed, and the painting on the paper quickly took shape.

Ye Wanzhuang's calligraphy and painting session was neither long nor short. On the first day, Ye Wanzhuang simply painted normally, without any abnormalities.

As evening fell, Lin Jiang and the others went out to inform Yu Wenyun that they would be setting up camp temporarily. Yu Wenyun also retrieved candles from locations one, two, and three and set up a makeshift altar around the camp to evade pursuit by patrolling cavalry.

The next day, some strange phenomena appeared in the grassland below. The flowers growing on the grassland were swept up by a wind from an unknown source, covering the entire sky.

Lin Jiang could clearly see that even the wind in the sky had a color—a pale blue mixed with a dark hue, its wisps echoing across the entire plain.

Only now did Lin Jiang finally realize that everything on this lush grassland was probably painted, not just the ground and the sky, but even the wind blowing up at them and the air they breathed—everything was painted by Ye Wanzhuang bit by bit.

By the third day, the plain below could no longer be lived in normally. Everything around had turned into a dazzling color, except for the table in the very center, which was still immersed in this seven-colored hue.

Ye Wanzhuang had focused all her attention on the table in front of her. Every time she wrote, the colors around her would change. When she lightly swung the pen to the left, the colors in front of her would also shift to the left. When she moved the pen to the right, everything in front of her would shift to the right as well.

Even the wind inside has become dangerous at this moment.

Little Ginseng originally wanted to stay inside, but after just one glance at the ever-changing colors on the plain, she opened her mouth, first letting out a tremendous "Wow," and then with a snap, fell backward.

His eyes had started rolling around.

For Xiaoshan Shen, the scene before her was clearly beyond the scope of her mental capacity. After taking one look, her brain naturally struggled to function, and she voluntarily gave up thinking about it.

Liang Huashan, however, remained seated below, unmoved by the ever-changing colors that lashed against him.

Even though his mind and body suffered a severe shock, his profound cultivation was enough to allow him to endure this underground for a while longer.

He ultimately intended to watch the painting session.

Unable to dissuade Liang Huashan, Lin Jiang could only leave a trace of life energy within him before leaving the lakebed with the others.

They waited quietly outside for another day.

Finally, on the third day, as the sun shone like gold at sunset, the turbulent colors beneath the lake's surface slowly faded away.

Reaching the side of the lake, Lin Jiang looked down through the crack and discovered that the entire lakebed had turned back into a wide plain.

Beside the desk, Ye Wanzhuang looked slightly tired, holding a completed work in her hands. Liang Huashan stood beside her, looking somewhat damaged.

His cultivation had been worn down and collapsed, and even with Lin Jiang's life force protecting him, his condition was clearly not very good at the moment.

But he didn't care.

"Now that this painting is finished, I will give it to you as a gift, so that you may fulfill your wish."

Ye Wanzhuang examined her painting a few more times before giving it to Liang Huashan.

After receiving the painting, Liang Huashan felt a sense of heaviness in it.

It was as if all his life's achievements had been poured into this painting.

He looked down, and at that moment, his expression suddenly became somewhat strange.

Seeing that Liang Huashan's expression was off, Lin Jiang became curious and leaned behind him to peek at the scroll.

The painting depicts a landscape with flowing clouds that gently brush against it, making the mountains and streams seem to move.

It looks really beautiful; it's a static painting, yet it manages to convey a sense of movement.

But perhaps because Lin Jiang himself doesn't have much artistic talent, when he appreciates this painting, although he finds it beautiful, it doesn't seem to be much better than Liang Huashan's works.

Ye Wanzhuang was far more sensitive to paintings than to other things. She keenly noticed the subtle change in Liang Huashan's expression and asked curiously:

Why that expression?

“…It’s nothing,” Liang Huashan said tactfully, “It’s just that I haven’t seen this kind of painting style in a long time.”

Upon hearing this, Ye Wanzhuang frowned slightly.

"What do you mean by this?" Liang Huashan murmured, unsure of what to say.

One, two, three also heard the noise and came over.

She understood paintings far better than Lin Jiang, a complete novice, and recognized it at a single glance:

"Ye Zi, your drawing style... is so old-fashioned."

"Old-fashioned?" Ye Wanzhuang frowned even more: "I have indeed been confined to this scenic spot all these years, but I have never stopped studying the art of painting. My skills should be more advanced than before, and I have added many new techniques. Why do you say I am old-fashioned?"

"In recent years, many new talents have emerged in the art world of Daxing City, and I have appreciated their works to varying degrees. Regardless of their skill level, there is a lot of originality in their works."

One, two, three—compared to the timid and hesitant Liang Huashan, he was clearly much more decisive:

"Ye Zi, your painting skills are still as superb as ever, but I feel that something is missing from your paintings now."

Ye Wanzhuang blinked, and tears suddenly welled up in her eyes:
"really?"

"really."

"My drawing...is no good?"

"He has a solid foundation and his brushstrokes are vigorous; he is not bad, but not as good as him."

One, two, three sincerely raised his hand and pointed to Liang Huashan.

Upon hearing this, Liang Huashan froze, and seeing Ye Wanzhuang staring at him with teary eyes, he didn't know what to do with his hands and feet.

"You drew...very well?"

"I, this, I..."

Liang Huashan instinctively wanted to humbly say that he was far inferior to Master Ye, but as the words were about to come out, his mind suddenly flashed back to all those years of hard work at his desk, forgetting to eat or sleep, and the scenes of exchanging ideas with his fellow practitioners.

A thousand thoughts churned in his throat, and finally, he gritted his teeth:

"I only have a little bit of knowledge about painting."

"Can you let me see it?"

Liang Huashan rummaged in his pocket for a moment and quickly pulled out a scroll painting, which was extremely well preserved and was clearly one of his proudest works.

Unrolling the scroll reveals a landscape painting, with flowing lines depicting endless clouds and mist, a scene of clouds rising from the mountain peaks.

As a layman, Lin Jiang naturally couldn't see the exquisite details, but he felt that Liang Huashan's painting was truly more moving.

Ye Wanzhuang, however, perked up immediately upon seeing the painting.

She examined every brushstroke closely, her tears instantly disappearing, and she let out bursts of admiration, seemingly moved by the many ingenious ideas in the painting.

His eyes almost sparkled with starlight.

"Beautiful! Absolutely beautiful!"

Ye Wanzhuang showed no displeasure; on the contrary, she sincerely praised it, as if admiring a priceless treasure.

Upon witnessing this scene, Liang Huashan felt a strange sense of absurdity welling up inside him.

The figure he had been pursuing for so long seemed to have been surpassed by him without him even realizing it.

While both still lacked in skill, Liang Huashan had already gone much further on their shared path of pursuing art.

In an instant, he suddenly felt that what he had been holding tightly in his heart had quietly vanished.

A different thought suddenly formed in my mind.

His chaotic state of mind suddenly became peaceful.

The once-decayed Dharma has returned to normalcy.

The realm that had almost fallen to its previous state instantly rose at a speed visible to the naked eye, surpassing even its former glory in the blink of an eye.

At this moment, Liang Huashan seemed to have crossed some threshold.

In the end, you will leave the person behind you far behind.

(End of this chapter)