Image of Ten Thousand Jun

The sun gradually sank toward the west. The burning pain deep in Jingxing's eye sockets felt as though someone had pressed two red-hot coals against them. Tears streamed unchecked, and through the gaps between them, he struggled to make out his brushstrokes, looking at one before painting the next.

The tip of the Cloud-Washing Ink-Tracer grew heavier and heavier as the Imaginary Energy he could provide dwindled. Every drop of starlight-like ink he formed sent a tearing pain through his chest.

Yet in return, the mountain on the canvas gradually came to life. The black stone's dullness took on weight; the lively sea of clouds revealed its flowing motion. For the first time, the skills of two lifetimes converged beneath his brush.

The light reflected from Stone Beach shifted from yellow to white, then red. By the time the moon rose, only the finishing touches remained on the painting, like a bow drawn to its limit.

Jingxing hesitated to put down his brush. He knew what that stroke would mean.

In distant Hattopia, if its painters dotted the eyes of the monsters they painted, the monsters could become Imagenae by receiving the power of wishes. Though Jingxing was not painting a monster, he was certain that once he finished this final stroke, the painting before him would ascend to become a Curio.

Deep in his mind, the sound of a mirror shattering rang out again. Countless bubbles surged through his consciousness, gently urging him to make that final stroke.

Jingxing took a deep breath and pressed the last trace of Imaginary Energy in his body, along with his confidence and expectations, into the final stroke.

He put brush to canvas.

A line of ink ran from the foot of the mountain, across the sea of clouds and through the ridges, ending at the tip of the main peak.

The instant he finished the stroke, every sound between heaven and earth seemed to die out at once. The sea of clouds churning halfway up the mountain stopped, as though it had been encased in amber, frozen for eternity.

The easel trembled slightly, and the mountain on the canvas seemed to give a tremor announcing its birth.

But Jingxing had no time to pay attention to any of that. The second after the Imaginary Energy deep within his body ran dry, a spark seemed to flare up, burning hot in his chest. A response from the Path of Beauty surged back through the brush tip and made a complete circuit through every part of his body.

This was Beauty's gift in return for Jingxing walking the Path.

He staggered half a step, trying to steady the sinking easel.

The easel's four legs sank into the gravel beach, and the stones crackled under the unbearable weight. A ring of fine cracks spread silently outward from the easel.

Jingxing instinctively reached to steady the frame—the moment he touched it, his arm plunged downward, nearly pulling him off his feet.

So heavy! It was as though he had moved an entire mountain onto the canvas.

Jingxing let go, and the easel collapsed, but the canvas lay on Stone Beach. The night wind rose, sending the sand and pebbles swirling, yet not even a corner of the canvas lifted, as though it had been nailed to this patch of earth.

Jingxing stepped back, his heart pounding as he looked at what he had painted.

"Did it... work?"

"Wow..." A lazy voice sounded behind him.

Jingxing turned. A Herta Puppet had appeared ten paces away at some point, her hands behind her back and her violet-gold eyes shining captivatingly in the night.

But she was not looking at him. She was looking at the newly completed painting.

"Ms. Herta," Jingxing said hoarsely. Only then did he realize how completely hoarse he was. He had not even bothered to wipe away the dried blood beneath his nose.

"Don't talk. Let me finish looking first." The puppet circled the canvas, then crouched down and stared at it for quite a while.

Jingxing gave up on picking up the canvas. Instead, he steadied himself against the remains of the easel and checked himself over again from head to toe. The Imaginary Energy in his body was many times more abundant than it had been that morning; the Path's resonance brought about by this single painting had far exceeded his expectations. His eyes still hurt, but as soon as he put the Light-Severing Sea back on, the pain gave way to a cool sensation. The mysterious voice in his head had also receded completely.

"Phew... I hope it satisfies you, Ms. Herta." Jingxing adjusted the Light-Severing Sea and took a step back.

The Herta Puppet raised her hand. Several strands of Imaginary Energy reached out from her fingertips, but the moment they touched the edge of the canvas, they all pulled taut as though something had bitten down on them, then snapped back with a pop.

The Herta Puppet stared at her fingertips and blinked.

"Interesting." She straightened up, her tone turning serious. "I thought this painting was good for nothing except having the weight of a mountain incorporated into it, but it looks like there's more to it than that."

As she spoke, she reached out and tried to pick up the canvas. The Herta Puppet was much stronger than she looked, but the canvas still did not budge.

"Oh? It looks like the more energy you pour into it, the heavier it gets?" She immediately reached a conclusion.

"I suppose so." As Jingxing spoke, he released his Imaginary Energy and picked up the canvas with ease. "Looks like that really is the case. As expected of you, Ms. Herta."

"Hmph. I've seen plenty of Curios. I can understand how this kind of thing works without even thinking about it." The Herta Puppet brushed nonexistent dust from her palms. "But a painting becoming a Curio the moment it's finished... all right, I admit this is the first time I've seen someone do that."

She looked at Jingxing. "But if that's all it can do, it's not very interesting to me. Little painter, can you tell me what else is special about it?"

Jingxing nodded. "Yes, Ms. Herta."

"Oh?" The Herta Puppet held out her hand. "Let's hear it. It had better be something that interests me."

"I named this painting the Image of Ten Thousand Jun."

"Vulgar." Herta pursed her lips. "And?"

"You've already mentioned its first feature, Ms. Herta. As for the second..." Jingxing paused. "Seven-colored bubbles circulate within the sea of clouds in the painting. Together, when a Pathstrider of Erudition tries to 'analyze' the painting using Path technology or Imaginary Energy from the Path of Erudition, the painting will immediately counterattack."

Herta's heart skipped a beat. Ever since she had set foot on the Path of Erudition, whenever she tried to approach the "Knowledge Singularity," a series of accidents would occur, preventing her from breaking through it. She had always suspected that a Pathstrider on the same Path was targeting her. If she could grasp the principles behind this painting's mechanism...

At that thought, the Herta Puppet's expression turned perfectly solemn. "Your reason is very good. This painting is mine now."

She took the canvas and turned to leave, her voice drifting back on the night wind. "A spaceship will come to the hotel tomorrow morning to take you back to the space station. Asta can tell you then how many Credits this painting is worth."

I hope Ms. Asta will show me some mercy, Jingxing muttered inwardly. Still, she looks beautiful and kindhearted, so it should be fine, right?