“Master, I was wondering if you would be willing to take a look at the painting we spoke about.”
Master regarded him, “Hmm. I had intended to see it, but it slipped my attention as I prioritised modifying the Seven Element Technique for you.” He paused. “Yes, I would like to take a look at this painting of yours.” He frowned slightly. ” But you would not have it on you since you didn't have a storage ring until a few minutes ago.’
“I can bring it here, Master,” Yang said eagerly. It would take him perhaps a few minutes to walk to the formation and back.
Before Master could respond, Senior Brother Zhen Hao spoke from across the table. “Junior Brother Yang, I can bring it here or take you with me to retrieve it. Either way, flying to the formation and back will take less time than walking.
“Thank you, Senior Brother,” Yang said gratefully. “It will be quicker if you can go alone. It's still covered, leaning against the bed.”
“Zhen Hao, go,” Master said, making a small shooing motion.
Senior Brother Zhen Hao grinned and summoned his flying sword right there in Master's hall, and Senior Brother Xiao Zhan opened his mouth. “Junior Brothe—,”
Senior Brother Zhen Hao shot off like a rocket through the entrance door before he could even finish the sentence.
It was barely a minute or two before he came back the same way. Entering at the same speed and coming to rest precisely at his seat, stepping off the sword as if he was merely climbing down a single step. He passed the still wrapped painting to Yang across the table.
Yang was glad he had not gone along for the ride. He had no desire to lose his dinner in front of his whole army of Senior Brothers, especially during their first meeting, but he did admit to himself his admiration of Senior Brother Zhen Hao’s flying skill.
Yang carefully unwrapped the cloth, aware of every eye in the room on him. The moment his gaze fell on the painting, his hands stilled.
He tried to pass it towards Master.
He could not.
His reluctance to let it go was stronger than he had expected. It felt as though the painting’s influence on him had grown stronger, as he felt its weight feel like lead when he tried to pass it on.
He heard someone calling his name, and it took all his willpower to drag his gaze away from the painting and towards the voice.
Only to realise it wasn't him Master was looking at nor his name Master and other Senior Brothers were calling.
It was not Yang they were calling out but rather Yan Zheng.
Yang immediately turned in the opposite direction and understood at once what was happening.
It was not that the painting had grown heavier with his reluctance to pass it; rather, it was Senior Brother Yan Zheng who had reached across Senior Brother Xie Wei, who sat between them, to grab hold of one corner of the frame.
Senior Brother Xie Wei grabbed hold of Senior Brother Yan Zheng’s shoulder and gave him a firm shake.
Senior Brother Yan Zheng blinked and seemed to come back to himself. The instant he tore his gaze away from the painting, he had already retreated several feet from the table before Yang could fully register the movement.
In the same moment, Senior Brother Xiao Zhan reached over and pulled the painting cleanly out of Yang’s hand. He passed it to Master, who stood and suspended the painting in the air in front of him with its back facing the rest of them so only Master could look at it.
The hall was very quiet.
Yang looked around and saw several of his Senior brothers watching him with concern. Senior Brother Zhen Hao was frowning at the back of the canvas.
Senior Brother Xiao Zhan was standing next to the painting facing Master.
Senior Brother Luo Yun Xi and Senior Brother Fan Xiao were standing around Senior Brother Yan Zheng a few feet away.
No one spoke.
Everyone was quiet. Yang couldn't know how long it lasted before Master shifted his gaze away from the painting and looked at Senior Brother Xiao Zhan.
“Come here and take a look.”
Senior Brother Xiao Zhan took a step and stood next to Master, now facing the painting while Master turned his attention entirely to watching Senior Brother Xiao Zhan's face.
Yang and the rest of the table watched as well.
Senior Brother Yan Zheng also returned, taking the seat Senior Brother Xiao Zhan had just vacated, with Senior Brothers Luo Yun Xi and Fan Xiao following him back to their own seats.
It took only a few minutes for Yang to realise that, like Li San, Senior Brother Xiao Zhan was also completely unaffected by the painting.
He saw his gaze run over the painting as he tried to search for what had ensnared some of his junior brothers. His expression when he turned back to Master was puzzled.
“It's an exceptionally realistic mortal painting,” Senior Brother Xiao Zhan said. “But I do not understand what in it is drawing Junior Brothers.”
Master smiled and addressed the rest of the table. “Except Yan Zheng, each of you come forward and take a look. Tell me what you see.”
Senior Brother Luo Yun Xi quickly went first, taking Senior Brother Xiao Zhan's place, who stepped back from Master and the painting.
He stood before it for a moment, studied it, and then shook his head. “It's beautiful and shows incredible skill, but I don’t see what's so special about it either.”
The Senior Brothers went up one by one, in order of seniority. Yang watched each one of them carefully. Some seemed to feel a mild pull. Most did not. But it was only the three of them, Yang himself, Senior Brother Zhen Hao, and Senior Brother Yan Zheng who seemed the most affected.
When Yang’s turn came, he went to replace Senior Brother Zhen Hao, who had managed to snap himself out of it without someone else intervening. He gave Yang an uncomfortable smile as they exchanged positions.
He stood facing the painting, letting his gaze roam over it.
The mountain was wrapped in mist that looked as though it was actually moving. The rough stairs caved into the mountainside, rising and disappearing into clouds. The light, the sense of air in the space, none of it looked like paint on a canvas. It was like looking through the open window. Yang could almost feel the air on him.
He kept looking until the painting was suddenly covered. Yang jolted as he realised Master had covered it with the cloth. “Place it in your storage,” he said to Yang, who quickly reached out with his ring and summoned the painting inside.
Master gestured for everyone else to take their seats.
The whole table's attention settled on Master completely. Everyone seemed eager to figure out the mystery.
Master looked at all of them as he regally poured himself a cup of wine and leisurely took a sip.
“I can see you all are extremely curious about the origins of this painting.”
Then he stopped and did nothing else, taking another slow sip, and Yang felt a flicker of frustration as he realised Master was actively enjoying having every one of his disciples' undivided attention on him at once and had no intention of hurrying.
“Master,” said Senior Brother Yan Zheng in an exasperated tone. “What is it? Why did it affect some of us and not others?”
Master looked at Senior Brother Xiao Zhan for a moment, then let his gaze drift across the table. “It's a painting made by an extraordinarily skilled artist, but there is nothing magical about it. The canvas, the pigments, the frame. There is nothing unusual about any of them. Well, nothing that any well-funded mortal painter would not also use.”
Senior Brother Xiao Zhan looked at Master steadily, “Clearly there is more to it than that, considering the way Yan Zheng, Zhen Hao and Chen Yang reacted to it.”
“Chen Yang bought it from a cultivator who subsequently introduced him to the cultivation world,” Master said, taking another unhurried sip. “I believe the cultivator may have been on a path of seeking his Dao, and that Chen Yang somehow played a part in that.”
Every gaze on the table sharpened.
“Dao?” Senior Brother Yuan Shen leaned forward. “There are Dao traces in it?"
“Hmm. It must have been an incredible painter to have created something like this.” Master said in a tone of admiration.
Yang was a bit confused. He understood Dao was something extremely high-level cultivators needed to develop further past a certain point, but how does that relate if it's a completely magic-less painting?
“Master, you just said it was a completely mortal painting? And now you say it has Dao traces? How does that work?”
Master looked at him, “Chen Yang, Dao is not a spell. It's not magic. It's the fundamental truth of the universe. The blueprint of reality itself. A thing can contain truth without containing magic. There is no magic in gravity, yet we are all at its mercy; we may be able to loosen it restraint on us using treasures and techniques for a time, but once the external assistance is gone, we are all slaves to it.”
He looked across the table. “Most beings, mortals and cultivators alike, live entirely within its law without ever perceiving it. It is not something you reach by cultivating more qi or advancing more realms." He shifted his gaze briefly to Senior Brother Xiao Zhan. “None of you have touched it yet, but I look forward to the day when you truly begin to see.”
He looked at Yang again. “This painting doesn’t need precious pigments or a treasured canvas or frame. What you are looking at is not a reproduction of a place. It is the place itself, captured for an instant. The painter preserved what that mountain truly was at that point in time.”
Everyone fell silent. Yang looked around and saw the same expression reflected on most of his Senior Brothers' faces. They understood the words, yet the meaning remained frustratingly beyond their grasp.
Master let out a quiet chuckle. “Look at you all trying to comprehend something so well out of your reach.” He lightly shook his head. “Leave it be. The Dao this painting touches is not a path any of us will ever walk. What we can do is appreciate the edge of it our eyes are capable of perceiving.
His tone softened. “As for why some of you were affected, and others were not, it's because something in that place resonated with you. Why and what it means, I don't know. Only time will tell.”
Master’s expression then turned thoughtful as he looked at Senior Brother Zhen Hao. “Or perhaps, I am entirely wrong, and three of my disciples are simply fated to become painters.”
“Zhen Hao, are you considering trading the sword for a painting brush?”
“Never,” Senior Brother Zhen Hao said vehemently. “I have no interest in becoming a painter.”
Master smiled and waved his hand over as the table suddenly overflowed with a variety of treats and snacks. Plates of pastries, cakes, and various things.
“Stop thinking so much about it. There is nothing dangerous about the painting. It's interesting that Chen Yang came across it, and in doing so brought you all into contact with it.”
His gaze lingered briefly on Senior Brother Yan Zheng. "That is your fate, and all you can do is wait for it to unfold and reveal what it actually means."
He reached for one of the pastries himself.
"Now eat these. I took them from Grand Uncle's personal kitchen, and I suggest you help yourselves."
Senior Brothers reached from every direction simultaneously. Yang grabbed a plate and started filling it without hesitation, having learned enough in the past hour to know that hesitating at this table had consequences.