Chapter 1034 — The Young Heavenly Sovereign Relies on His Elders
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 2 of 4
Just so mysterious beyond mystery, wondrous beyond wonder, just so inconceivable. Grandma Zhu and the Alchemist drew near to look at the two paintings, each praising them without end. Grandma Zhu's face was wreathed in smiles; she nudged the Alchemist and said in a low voice, "Can you make sense of it?
" The Alchemist, beaming, whispered, "Not a bit. " "Neither can I," said Grandma Zhu, her smile not fading in the least as she lowered her voice.
Lang Wan the Divine King also stepped forward, studying the two paintings in fine detail. In the Blind Elder's painting, the figure resembled another her—delicate and elegant, the painting laying bare her inner self, untouched by dust.
The woman in that painting was serene and far-reaching, possessed of a beauty like her own; the her in the painting could also move. That other her dwelt in another world, with thoughts of her own, a mind of her own, even cultivation and divine abilities of her own.
The two of them gazed at each other across the boundary between worlds.
Lang Wan the Divine King praised it endlessly.
"Though this dao of painting is not creation, it is more than a match for creation.
I can no longer tell whether it is I who am in the painting, or she.
" The Blind Elder said, "Shen'er's painting is not bad either.
" Lang Wan the Divine King turned to look at Shen Mu's painting.
Shen Mu could not grasp her godhood; the her in his painting differed somewhat from the true her, and compared to the Blind Elder's craft, Shen Mu's fell far short.
Lang Wan the Divine King gazed at the figure in the painting. The Lang Wan in the painting was like a quiet young girl, standing atop the head of a great serpent, both hands cradling a fresh flower, bringing it to her lips to sniff, carrying with it a touch of shyness and a smile.
"The figure the Sacred Infant painted resembles me, and yet is not me. Most likely the Sacred Infant entrusted his own feelings into it. " Lang Wan the Divine King's gaze shifted, and she smiled.
"Might I have these two paintings as a gift?
" The Blind Elder nodded. "Young Lady, take them by all means.
" Shen Mu nodded as well.
The Blind Elder pulled him aside, and elder and youth set to painting again; as the Blind Elder painted, he passed on to Shen Mu the insights from the dao of painting he had pioneered. Lang Wan the Divine King put away the two paintings and rolled them up.
She pondered for a moment, then took out one of the scrolls. The scroll caught fire and swiftly turned to ash. Lang Wan the Divine King gazed into the dying flames, then waved her hand, and the ashes dispersed.
Grandma Zhu said quietly, "Alchemist, which painting do you think she burned?
" The Alchemist mused, "I think she burned the one Shen'er painted.
Shen'er made her ugly.
If it were me—if the Blind Elder had painted me ugly—I would burn it too.
" Grandma Zhu spat. "I think she burned the one the Blind Elder painted.
" The Alchemist was baffled. "The Blind Elder painted her too truly.
As a woman of peerless, unmatched beauty, she has no need of another her, nor any need to keep the Blind Elder's painting.
Keeping the Blind Elder's painting would instead give her a place to lodge her feelings; if she met with setbacks, she would feel that the her in the painted world lived a better life.
She is deathless and ageless, her heart firm and enduring; she has no need of another self. " Grandma Zhu said, "If she wished to admire her own looks, she need only take out a mirror.
It is Shen'er's painting instead that could let her see the emotions she lacks.
Though imperfect, taken out to admire, it could give her a quite different sentiment.
" The Alchemist laughed. "Grandma, that is only your conjecture. Which painting she burned, if she does not say, none of us can possibly know. " Grandma Zhu was rather confident. "I think the cultivation method this Lang Wan the Divine King practices must be some rare and peculiar method.