Chapter 179: Breaking the Formation (1)
Under the flickering and shifting of forty-eight artificial stars, Yunpo stood above the earth, her brushstrokes unceasing. Under her slender, oddly slender tip, scrolls of painting, each barely slender in its width, drifted like fallen leaves in the wind, piling up around her legs and surrounding her, yet she paid no heed.
Her pen was long and thin, curled up, made of a dead vine wrapped around something, with only a tiny white thread at the tip.
When Yunpo lifted his brush, the fine tip of the pen swayed in the air, and wisps of mist rose up and landed on the paper, melting into the faint outlines of Xiaohecheng and Luo Xuanyi. Then Yunpo pressed the tip of the pen, guiding the mist to dissolve and carefully depict the image of Xiaohecheng and Luo Xuanyi.
With each completed scroll, a fake star was drawn into the clouds and vanished. Now, only three fake stars remained, twinkling in a small patch of blue sky. Beyond this patch of blue sky lay a thick layer of mist, obscuring the clear blue sky and the scorching sun.
A relentless breeze blew past where Yunpo stood, whipping her long, tangled hair, which fell to her feet like a tangled mess of dead grass, and tugged at her wide, worn linen sleeves. The paper roll beneath her feet rubbed against the exposed edge of the sleeves, making a rustling sound as it clung to the ground. This patch of land was strangely peculiar, a vast, flat, round expanse of bare earth, as if some immense structure had once stood there, suddenly obliterated by some powerful force, leaving only the soil before any weeds had had time to grow.
Looking around, you can see a circle of yellow and brown mixed together at the edge of your vision.
But it wasn't actually a ring, but a vertical section of the earth, about eight feet high.
The place where Yunpo stood was the original location of Xiaohe City and the wheat fields. However, this land with a radius of ten miles centered on Xiaohe City had now entered her painting, just like Luo Xuanyi.
Luo Xuanyi's guess about Yun Po's Dao was spot on; she had indeed integrated the Dao of Tan Tai Lian's painting into her own formations. Although Tan Tai Lian was considered an evil cultivator of the Dao of Painting by the righteous, the cultivators, pursuing the Dao without restraint, had revived it after the Dao of Painting had completely declined.
After all, the power of painting is unquestionable.
Yun Po is the biggest admirer of Tan Tai Lian among the cultivators who have returned to the art of painting, and he also has the most unorthodox reputation.
The tip of the pen was drawing the third-to-last scroll, outlining two small lotus cities facing each other. Only one human figure needed to be depicted, that of Luo Xuanyi.
The Luo Xuanyi she depicted in her writing should be called Shen Ranming in the intelligence Yun Po had received. However, unlike the curse, Yun Po didn't need a correct name. She gently sketched Luo Xuanyi's black hair, her inexplicably gloomy expression, and the wound she had inflicted herself. With a slight movement of the pen, she added the gurgling blood from Luo Xuanyi's wound.
After confirming the blood had flowed out, Yun Po continued to move his pen downwards, completing the skin of Luo Xuanyi in the painting. To paint the skin as if it had been truly drained out, Yun Po put in a lot of hard work.
The tip of the brush fell on Luo Xuanyi's skinny and shriveled toes. Yun Po picked up the brush and blew out a breath gently. In this painting, all the details were truly reproduced in the world in the painting.
The airflow flew straight up into the sky, gradually spreading out and turning into wisps of white mist, and then gradually became real and thick, blending into the dark clouds, accompanied by the disappearance of the third-to-last fake star.
Yunpo took out the next blank piece of drawing paper and let the mist fall. He was slightly distracted, but his hand was still drawing with incredible precision.
When Yun Po sensed the slaughter of Xiaohe City with his divine sense, he actually breathed a sigh of relief. If anyone was still alive, he would surely be severely criticized by the six major alliances upon his return after performing the painting formation. Tens of thousands of people and a wealthy city were buried with a demon cultivator. Perhaps even some celestial punishment would be sent down from the Fuwen Tower to appease the shocked mortal court.
But why worry so much? We're all going to die anyway. After decades or hundreds of years, we'll all be nothing more than a pile of dirt.
It is obvious that the top leaders of the six major alliances all think so. If that’s the case, why can’t Yun Po do it himself?
Yun Po mastered the art of formations, but struggled with the art of dealing with others. Her origins were similar to Qu Qitao's, yet distinct. Born in Yifeng Retreat, she possessed a natural talent for wisdom and was adopted as a successor by Fu Yai, a powerful formation master residing in seclusion within Yifeng Retreat. She and her master cared little for the mundane world, pursuing only the ultimate truth of Heaven.
The path of truth that is intangible and incomprehensible, the one that no one has walked on for millions of years, the one whose existence is not even known, is worth sacrificing even if it means sacrificing everything that can be sacrificed, even themselves.
But even after sacrificing so much, from floating cliffs to breaking clouds, nothing was gained. The Way of Heaven remained lofty and ethereal, existing yet not existing.
The madness of Yunpo and Fuya seemed so empty and terrifying to other cultivators.
But Yun Po didn't care. She knew that those who truly held power didn't care either, but she just didn't bother to hide it.
As long as she was still useful, wasn't that enough? Even if she seemed to be punished with confinement, she would still be released when trouble arose. Knowing the harm it would cause, she pretended to ignore it, and then, when the consequences came, she would unleash a grandiose yet non-existent divine punishment on the mortals as a show.
A breeze blew by, breaking the clouds and revealing the full picture of a new painting. As soon as the painting was completed, the only two fake stars left in the sky changed again. One of them flashed slightly and disappeared into the clouds.
Only one painting left to complete it.
Yun Po did not continue painting at this moment. Her pen stopped, as if there was a slight indentation on the drawing paper, blocking the tip of her pen.
She finally picked up the painting she had just made and looked at it carefully with a frown.
That was not a dent, but the thin white thread at the tip of the pen had disappeared.
Or, it should be said, captured in the painting.
On the scroll, a handful of white threads appeared, something Yunpo had never depicted. It was a familiar sight. This tiny wisp of thread, formed from the ashes of Tan Tai Lian and the white flocs of the celestial beast Xiyan, had caused Yunpo to wander the Celestial Sea for three hundred years and nearly die.
Yun Po subconsciously raised the pen, and the tip of the pen escaped from the painting, but there was an extra hand on it.
This is Luo Xuanyi's hand.
Today's first update. Yunpo's new appearance~
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