Painter

The convoy continued onward. Qiao Jiaxin sat upright in the carriage, but before long, the sun's glare began to make her uncomfortable. She shifted slightly and secretly glanced over.

She found the young man rather interesting. Perhaps the journey... would not be so boring anymore.

Then, the other two people on the other side of the carriage began to talk.

At first, Liu Laodao had not paid much attention to the young man. But after exchanging a few polite words, he began to feel quite pleased.

He was a painter, and in truth, one of the more successful sort—he had a small temple in Weicheng that enshrined the Wei River Dragon King. The incense offerings were not flourishing, but they barely covered food and clothing. Every now and then, someone would commission a painting; if he was lucky enough to sell one for a few pieces of silver, life became much more comfortable.

He had once had a master. Supposedly, his master had learned a few methods of breathing, cultivation, and self-nourishment from a blue-robed disciple stationed in Liucheng by the Dongxuan Sect—naturally, the real Dongxuan Sect, one of the seventy-two orthodox sects. Thus, his master had also called himself a disciple of the Dongxuan Sect.

Such things were quite common in the martial world, and cultivators and immortals did not care much about them. In truth, if one really wanted to split hairs, eight or nine out of every ten unorthodox paths and lowly secular sects in the martial world bore names like these. Cultivators and immortals had no mind to fuss over such matters—they were all busy casting aside emotion to seek immortality. Besides, there were only so many impressive, imposing names to go around. What reason was there to forbid others from using them?

By Liu Laodao's time, he had simply begun calling himself the headmaster of the Dongxuan Sect. Of course, his Dongxuan Sect referred only to that small temple. This lofty status did not amount to much in Luo City, but once outside, it could still bluff people into giving him a startled look.

But the people of the Hongfu Escort Agency were also from Luo City and had long known his true colors. Thus, not a single one of them respected him as the grand headmaster he was. Whenever they were bored, they would take the chance to needle him. Ahem... every man loved beauty. Liu Laodao loved beauty too; that was only natural.

Now that this young man had come over, he had become the only person willing to speak properly with him.

Thus, Liu Laodao's impression of him greatly improved, and even the airs he put on carried something of a lofty hermit beyond the worldly realm.

"...So, young friend, you also have some knowledge of the art of painting?"

"Just a little, just a little. You are the true senior master."

"Hehehehe... This poor Daoist is untalented, but I have studied this art for thirty-six years and gained a few insights. In all of Luo City, those who have cultivated to the realm of Intent can likely be counted on one hand—this poor Daoist is humbly one among them."

"Ah... that sounds impressive. What is Intent?"

"Hehe. Ordinary people paint, and painters paint as well. Where lies the difference? Painters cultivate the orthodox methods of the mystic gate. When one cultivates the orthodox path, gathers spiritual energy, and reaches the realm where one can stir the spiritual energy of heaven and earth with one's thoughts and intent, one is no longer like an ordinary person. That is called Intent."

Li Yunxin actually knew all this. Though his parents had not told him much, they had mentioned all five realms of Profound Truth, Transform Void, Intent. It was hard to imagine what they had once been thinking—teaching him methods to cultivate his body and refine his breath, yet fearing he might learn too much. Perhaps they had been conflicted then—whether or not to let their only son study such things.

Just as people who practiced martial arts often found it easy to solve problems with their fists and bring trouble upon themselves, his parents probably feared that if their son became too skilled, he would no longer be content to remain in a mountain village.

But though he did not know what level of cultivation they had attained, one thing was certain—no one would willingly let their own skills be buried in obscurity.

Perhaps it was precisely because of that conflict that they had yet to decide just how much they should let him know.

Unfortunately, he would probably never have another chance.

As Liu Laodao had said, Intent was the realm where one could stir the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. It sounded wonderful, but as far as Li Yunxin knew... it was utterly useless.

At least, for painters.

Painters at this realm could blend spiritual energy into their paintings—those paintings that calmed the mind and guarded the home were made this way. They had some minor use, better than nothing. Perhaps masters of Intent could do better—after all, there was a difference between "looking at it feels somewhat pleasant" and "looking at it makes one feel comfortable from head to toe."

But judging from Liu Laodao's clothing... he was probably not among the masters.

The Void realm was better. At least one could fling out a painting and create some illusion to frighten people. The trick he had used to scare Constable Xing was an ability of that realm.

At the Transformation realm, it was no longer an illusion—one could truly summon something, though it would not last long.

The reason he was asking the old Daoist these questions was because, after traveling these past few days, he had realized that the painters of the secular world... seemed different from the painters his parents had described.

Mm, they were somewhat weak.

Or rather, weak by more than just a little.

Sometimes, Li Yunxin even suspected that his parents had gotten it wrong.

So he wanted to find out exactly how weak these people were.

After listening to Liu Laodao ramble on reverently about the five realms—most of it framed with "so I have heard" and "perhaps," and containing quite a few errors—he realized that Red Pine Master had been right.

The art of painting had truly declined...

Luo City counted as a major city. It had five painters in the Intent realm. Even if Liu Laodao barely managed to claim one of those places, there were still only five.

As for the Void realm, according to Liu Laodao, one could only find it in the capital—only high officials and nobles could see such people.

As for the Transformation realm, in his words—"Who knows whether any exist? Though painters are no longer ordinary people, perhaps some predecessors, unwilling to lose face, simply borrowed the five realms of the Sword Sect's lineage, hoping that one day, a great master like that might emerge among later generations. Sigh... shameful, shameful."

So the things Red Pine Master had told him, the things his parents had told him... were not things everyone knew.

Perhaps there was more behind the decline of the art of painting—otherwise, it should not have become like this, as though the history of the past had been erased from the secular world.

But Liu Laodao thought Li Yunxin was someone "wholeheartedly devoted to the Dao." Seeing how patiently he had listened to all this, Liu Laodao's desire to nurture talent grew even stronger.

Thus, he began probing indirectly. "Young friend, are you from Luo City? Where does your Household live?"

Li Yunxin put on an air and sighed. "It is a long story. Something happened to my Household. I am alone now; I may as well be without father or mother."

Qiao Jiaxin had been listening intently from the other side. Hearing this, she felt somewhat sad, yet also faintly relieved.

Liu Laodao rejoiced inwardly, though his face did not change. "Oh? Then what plans do you have upon going to Luo City?"

Li Yunxin shook his head. "I will take things as they come."

"Mm. My Dongxuan Sect temple is also a peaceful place." Liu Laodao stroked his beard.

"Daoist, your cultivation is profound. Naturally, it must be a blessed land."

Qiao Jiaxin grew a little anxious. She felt that the handsome young man probably did not know what sort of place Liu Laodao's "Dongxuan Sect temple" really was and might be tricked into going there.

Actually, there was plenty of room at home...

Father was always saying they lacked people and wanted to recruit more.

Liu Laodao was growing a little anxious as well. The young man spoke so cleverly, politely, and respectfully, and was wholeheartedly devoted to the Dao—so why did he not understand the meaning behind his words?

Qiao Jiaxin could not help wanting to expose Liu Laodao's true colors. But Liu Laodao had long guarded against this—he feared that whenever he spoke with the young man, the people from the escort agency would mock him again.

The moment he saw Qiao Jiaxin looking eager to speak, he simply bellowed, "Hey! Foolish child! Have you not yet awakened? Do you wish to seek the Dao?!"

That shout startled both Qiao Jiaxin and Qiao Sifu, who was driving the carriage. After shouting, Liu Laodao felt enormously pleased with himself. He thought that line he had roared out in a moment of inspiration...

Was far too fitting for a lofty master!!

Li Yunxin seemed startled as well. But after a brief daze, delight appeared on his face. "Can I? Really?"

Then, sitting in the carriage, he raised his hands, lowered his head, and bowed deeply. "Master above, accept this disciple's bow!"

Qiao Jiaxin and Qiao Sifu stared in utter astonishment. The old Daoist beamed with pride, stroked his beard, and struck a pose for a while before quickly grabbing Li Yunxin's hand—afraid that his new disciple might regret it.

This young man admired and respected him, spoke so pleasantly, and most importantly, he was good-looking! When he took him out in the future, the spectacle and prestige would immediately be complete! At the very least, he could earn another few pieces of silver!