It was paint, and it was canvas.
Something she could freely sketch and smear with her brush.
This!
This really was the form Little Griseo liked best and knew best.
She dipped her brush in paint and depicted the colors on the white cloth. Patterns and radiance appeared on the cloth, making it resemble bamboo slips, or perhaps a scroll. Once spread out, it revealed a vivid, lifelike scene. As a painting, it was full of vitality, yet also carried a touch of serenity.
Strings and bamboo instruments had their own beauty.
That innate charm... ancient and classical.
Let the world become a painting.
Let everything become a painting!
That was Little Griseo's simplest idea.
The contents of the painting were not static.
Just like Along the River During the Qingming Festival, one could see every scene and every detail in the painting, vividly rendered as though it were still alive.
In Little Griseo's eyes,
every world was like a picture book.
And every picture book ought to be sorted and stored separately.
She was not like the Imaginary Tree, with its terrifying obsessive-compulsive tendencies, insisting that the worlds be arranged and hung according to its own order.
Nor was she like the Sea of Quantum, leaving every world to its own devices without any management.
A method like this...
was the best.
Wasn't it?
The entire world, the countless universes, belonged to her.
This infinite universe of hers was her collection.
What she collected were her worlds.
And naturally,
the world as a painting belonged in her exhibition hall.
The world as a book belonged in her library.
Perhaps nothing could be seen from the surface.
But every world had grown stronger, more sacred, and higher in level.
Even Honkai Energy might not be inferior to Paths.
Even the