Chapter 283 — Stirring Wind and Waves
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 2 of 4
Knowing the seriousness of the matter, Wei Yong and the others hurried back to the City Lord's mansion, while Shen Wanyun left the market at once, thinking to himself: "That woman looks somewhat familiar. I seem to have seen her before. Who can she be..."
Long Jiaonan led Shen Mu and the other two to the harbor and boarded a towered ship. "Cast off!" she ordered.
The towered ship at once made for the Eastern Sea. Behind them, Shen Wanyun left markers along the way, then plunged into the sea and raced across the face of the waters, tailing the vessel. The ship was far from slow, but he ran like the wind, keeping pace with ease.
"Young Mistress, there's someone behind us," a man on the ship said in a low voice.
Long Jiaonan went to the stern and saw Shen Wanyun treading the waves. She was taken aback for a moment. "Just an Imperial Academy scholar. Does he think he can do battle with the Dragon King at sea?"
She set her whistle going, its melody strange and uncanny. Before long, one slimy sea serpent after another appeared beneath the surface — each more than a hundred feet long — darting toward Shen Wanyun.
Shock ran through Shen Wanyun's heart. Flying swords shot out from the sword pouch on his back and hewed down the serpents as they surged in. The stretch of sea around him churned like a boiling pot; countless serpents like flood dragons burst out of the water and attacked him in a frenzy. Kill as he might, they would not be finished!
By the time Shen Wanyun cut his way out of the serpent encirclement, the towered ship was nowhere in sight. He rose into the air, hovered, and scanned in every direction. The sea stretched green and boundless for ten thousand li, yet he could not find where the ship had gone.
"Damn it!" Shen Wanyun's face was grave.
On the towered ship, Long Jiaonan did not restrict Shen Mu and the others, letting them roam as they pleased. The vessel sailed farther and farther into the deep sea.
Shen Mu looked up. The sky was high, the horizon distant, the sea profound. Out here there was no way of leaving a trace of one's passing.
With keen interest, he spread out paper at the prow and took up his brush to paint. Long Jiaonan craned her neck to look. What Shen Mu had painted was the sea — monstrous waves, black clouds swallowing everything, a towered ship threading through wind and waves, and beyond the ship, lightning splitting the darkness, illuminating the vessel. The painting had a strange power, as if one were standing inside it.
"I'd never have known, Cult Leader Shen, that you had such skill with a brush." Long Jiaonan praised him. "If you went to the capital to sell paintings, you could win yourself a name as a dashing man of letters."
Beside them, a boatman with a demon-head saber on his shoulder sauntered up, swung the blade in a lazy arc at Shen Mu's neck, and chuckled. "A pity this Nether Demon Cult Leader is about to die, and he still has the mood to scrawl ghost talismans."
Long Jiaonan said coldly, "Ghost Three, until my father orders his death, he is a guest invited by our Dragon-Riding Gate. Show some respect!"
Ling Yuxiu's eyes brightened. She drew near to watch Shen Mu's painting, and covertly shot a glance at Si Yunxiang.
As if not quite satisfied with the picture, Shen Mu set it aside and painted another. It was the same wind and rain, thunder and towering seas — but this one had no ship. Long Jiaonan had been watching with relish, but seeing him paint the same scene over and over with nothing new, she lost interest and let Little Red keep hanging from Shen Mu's ear.
Shen Mu painted a dozen or so storm-on-the-sea scenes, then raised his brush as if to polish and revise. The moment his first stroke fell, the whole painting seemed to change. The thunder and gale within it seemed about to fly out of the paper.
Shen Mu gave each finished painting one final stroke, then casually tossed them off the towered ship one by one.
Long Jiaonan watched and privately thought what a pity.