Chapter 593 — The Old Scholar Whose Verse Presses Down the Star River
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 4 of 4
The Deaf Elder wielded his brush and painted on; god after god and demon after demon, soldier after soldier leaped out from beneath his brush and rushed to the battlefield, fearing death not at all. In the air above, wind and rain, thunder and lightning raged and swept across the sky, yet never once touched the army of gods and demons, striking only upon the heads of the demon host.
For these gods and demons were people in a painting, and the wind and rain, the thunder and lightning of the painting had nothing to do with them.
"Can it be that this Youdu horde has charged into the painted world of Grandpa Deaf?"
A thought stirred faintly in Shen Mu's heart, a possibility. But this painting of the Deaf Elder must have a boundary — so where, after all, was the boundary of the painted world?
He looked all around, and could see no boundary to the painting at all.
The Deaf Elder's way of painting made one gaze up at it as at a mountain — so profound that Shen Mu would need to study it with all his heart all over again!
"The Imperial Preceptor of Jingping said Grandpa Deaf alone could hold off a million troops, and he spoke nothing but the truth!"
Shen Mu thought, "And that was only the judgment the Imperial Preceptor of Jingping gave after Tiantu fell and its capital turned into eighteen layers of hell."