The Painting

Though he spoke lightly, every word stabbed straight into the heart. Madam Black Pool listened with a shiver of fear, unsure whether the Nether Emperor had merely spoken casually or was hinting at something. She could only force an awkward smile and say, "Black Pool knows her place. Without the Nether Emperor's favor, there would be no Black Pool today."

"You understand, then." With his back to her, the scholar raised a hand. "If there's nothing else, withdraw."

Madam Black Pool had yet to achieve the purpose of her visit. How could she willingly leave? Gritting her silver teeth, she raised a hand and untied the black silk at her waist. Her shoulders gave a gentle shake, and the black gauze of her palace robes slid from them all at once, exposing her snowy-white, lush body to the air.

Madam Black Pool slowly rose. Naked, she stepped out from the pile of black gauze, walked slowly behind the scholar, wrapped her arms around his waist, and rubbed against him as she said, "It has been a long time since Black Pool served the Nether Emperor."

"Wait a moment, and your wish shall be granted." The scholar chuckled softly, his brush never pausing.

Madam Black Pool gave a delighted hum and turned her head toward the nearly finished painting on the desk. With only a slight glance, her pupils abruptly contracted. Before her unfolded a vast and magnificent colored scroll, its earthshaking scene of slaughter leaping vividly from the paper. A bloody, tragic, heart-gripping battle emerged stroke by stroke beneath the scholar's brush...

Countless experts from the Immortal and Underworld Realms were surrounding one man. In the center of the painting, the besieged man brimmed with heroic spirit. Like a god of slaughter, he rode a mighty crimson divine dragon through