Not far away, at the entrance to the valley, stood a stone statue.
The white marble statue stood three zhang tall, its features graceful and dignified. It held a half-broken brush in one hand, Literary Path aura swirling around it.
A stone statue was nothing remarkable, but the problem was... why did it bear the likeness of Senior Sister?
Eight words were carved into the statue's pedestal: The literary heart endures; the Dao's legacy continues.
"Senior Sister's handiwork?" Lin Heng was greatly surprised.
Since ancient times, erecting steles and statues required sufficient merit and providence to bear the weight.
Of course, people like Qin Hui were exceptions...
He withdrew his attention and spread his divine sense across the entire valley.
(? ˙ω˙ )? He swiftly detected Duan Shuyun's aura, immediately flashed over, and furtively crept closer.
Inside an isolated library at the deepest point of the valley, she sat cross-legged at the heart of an array, encircled by rings of Literary Path inscriptions.
The White Mystic Brush... or rather, a fragment of the White Mystic Brush, floated before her.
The light upon its body flickered bright and dim, visibly unstable.
Duan Shuyun's brow was tightly furrowed, fine sweat beading at her temples. True Yuan continuously poured into the White Mystic Brush, yet the glow on its body refused to stabilize.
Several elderly cultivators stood nearby, watching with grave expressions.
"Sect Leader Duan, the spiritual resonance of the White Mystic Brush has already weakened to the very limit. If you continue force-feeding it power like this, I fear the brush itself will completely shatter..."
"It won't. I've made the White Mystic Brush many times. There won't be any problem!"
Duan Shuyun gritted her teeth, her voice taut. "The White Mystic Brush carries a portion of the Literary Path's origin. As long