Dream of the Crimson Tower

Now Li Yunxin knew why this "jade slip" was called the "Tongming Jade Slip."

Because at this moment, it truly shone brightly all over.

Ever since coming to this world, many things had deeply shocked him—paper turning into salt, demons, flying swords, and people believing that one could truly cultivate into an immortal.

But even all those things combined could not compare to this moment—the moment he saw that line of text.

Excited and chaotic emotions flooded his chest in an instant. Even with his experience of living two lives, he could not help widening his eyes and staring blankly at the jade slip for quite a while.

This thing... had opened.

In fact, after the first wave of shock and astonishment passed, another question came to mind.

After obtaining this jade slip from where his parents had hidden it, he had tried countless methods to open it, hoping this treasure might grant him some miraculous power and free him from his previous predicament. But it had been like a lifeless piece of glass, utterly unresponsive no matter what he did—even when he poured into it the meager spiritual power he had cultivated through "Watercloud Force," it was still like a clay ox sinking into the sea.

Yet now, in the dead of night, this thing had "opened."

Li Yunxin held it in his hands, spending two minutes in astonishment and another three considering every possible reason he could think of.

In the end, he concluded that the likeliest cause was... those two demons.

He had tried many methods before. Soaking it in water, burning it with fire, exposing it to the sun, channeling spiritual power into it. If there was anything different about these recent days...

It was that he had encountered great demons.

First Ninth Young Master, then Bai Yunxin and her little maid.

Perhaps... the demonic power of great demons had affected this thing.

But why would the Tongming Jade Slip left behind by the Painting Saint two thousand years ago be opened with demonic power?!

And who exactly had that Painting Saint been?!

An unfamiliar yet familiar feeling flowed through Li Yunxin's chest, along with a warm current he had thought he would never experience again.

So in this world...

He was not alone.

At least, he had not always been alone.

He took a deep breath, ignored the noisy little cat demon beside him, and with faintly trembling fingers tapped nine times beneath the line of characters.

But the jade slip showed no reaction.

After a brief thought, he tapped it eighteen times instead.

This time, a gentle, heavenly melody rang out. The two lines of text on the treasure's surface faded away, and a radiance flowed over the entire jade slip. Then Li Yunxin saw densely packed writing upon it.

Li Yunxin did not first concern himself with what the text said. Instead, he studied the writing itself. Its wording, its tone, its grammar. Then he closed his eyes and let out a long breath. Looking at the jade slip's upper-right corner, he tried tapping its surface three or four times.

Thus, this supreme treasure of the Painting Dao turned back into a transparent piece of "glass."

He felt that he roughly understood how to open it.

Though he had read only a small part of the text inside, he had already realized why this thing was called a "supreme treasure of the Painting Dao."

When cultivators faced tribulations, they always needed to undergo them. They needed to comprehend heaven and earth, all living things, and every kind of emotion. But a person might remain impoverished and downtrodden their entire life, or live with every wish fulfilled from beginning to end. Those who rose to soaring success after poverty could be said to have lived splendidly. If someone had deeply experienced three or four flavors among sourness, sweetness, bitterness, spice, sorrow, and joy, that alone could be called "a legendary life."

Life was short, and cultivators fought for every second. They had no time to savor the hundred flavors of life one by one, so they needed outside help. In this regard, painters' works had much the same marvelous effect as alchemical medicines. But painters were people too, and their experiences were equally limited. Moreover, painters in ancient times were Danqing Daoists, disciples of the Mystic Sect, one of the world's three great sects.

Their lives were even more privileged. Where would they find so many experiences of hardship and destitution?

Yet the heart demons and karmic obstacles of life often arose from greed, obsession, anger, and wrath. And greed, obsession, anger, and wrath mostly sprang from hardship and destitution.

Thus, masterpieces of this kind were exceedingly rare.

The most famous painting handed down through the ages was the "Dream of the Crimson Tower," painted in ancient times by Xueqin True Person.

That Xueqin True Person had been born into a cultivating Aristocratic Clan of Grotto Heaven. Her parents were both masters of their age. In her youth, she was honored beyond compare and enjoyed all the splendor of the mortal world. But in her adulthood, the Painting Dao declined, and she came to understand the desolation of worldly affairs and the warmth and coldness of human hearts. Thus, after withdrawing into seclusion, she spent ten years creating the "Dream of the Crimson Tower." This True Realm master poured all the sorrow and joy she had experienced in her life into the painting with her lifelong cultivation, ultimately leaving behind this heirloom treasure before dying from exhaustion.

Although, due to later warfare, the final seven-foot section of the "Dream of the Crimson Tower" had been destroyed, it remained a treasured artifact of the Painting Dao enshrined by the Grotto Heaven School—second only to the "Eight Treasures Ancient Scroll" left behind by the Painting Saint.

It was said that if cultivators contemplated this painting with all their hearts, they could experience boundless sorrow and misery, tempering their Dao hearts. If mortals saw the painting, ordinary commoners would be one thing, but if someone possessed a Dao Bone without having cultivated, then once they grasped the painting's true meaning, they would die of heartache.

And now, within this Tongming Jade Slip...

There were things even more precious than those.

Li Yunxin realized that once he found a source capable of continuously supplying demonic power to this jade slip, then slowly studied and absorbed what was inside... he might become someone like the Painting Saint of legend from two thousand years ago—

Nothing among the seven emotions and six desires would escape his understanding; the sorrows and joys of heaven and earth would rise and fall at his will. In the finest details, he could paint roses and tigers; with his brush sweeping freely, he could paint ten thousand miles of rivers and mountains!

But first, he had to solve the problem before him.

That demon Bai Yunxin wanted to latch onto him. Of course, he could not obediently take the sword she had given him to Weicheng—the sword was surely a token, and the demon could use it to find him.

So he had to go elsewhere.

And he had to bring this little cat demon with him. It was a demon after all, and still possessed demonic power.

He also needed to figure out why his parents had gone into seclusion, and why he himself had been hunted.

The three sect Daoists were already dead, all at the hands of demons. Let those people coveting the Tongming Jade Slip investigate, and go trouble the demons instead!

He needed to find a place to properly study the thing in his hands, uncover the secrets of that "Painting Saint," and then...

Then he would make further plans!

So he let out a long breath to calm himself, tucked the jade slip back into his robes, and said, "Come. Since you like this body, possess it properly and follow me. Once I find you a better place to possess, let this girl be laid to rest in the earth."

The cat demon was delighted. Even if she could only use this body "temporarily" for now. Seeing Li Yunxin turn and leave, she hurried after him as well, wrapping her tattered clothes around her belly as she staggered along.

Li Yunxin and the cat demon moved cautiously through the forest. A quarter of an hour later, they finally saw the meadow beyond the woods—the direction from which they had been escorted into the forest.

He stopped behind a tree and warily peered outside.

But the cat demon suddenly gave a soft cry of surprise. Then, excited and happy, she bent forward slightly and stretched out both hands. While secretly watching Li Yunxin, she pursed her lips, as though she dearly wanted to do something but feared being scolded.

In the end, instinct overcame the little worries in her mind. Squinting her eyes, she quickly patted something protruding from Li Yunxin's waist and giggled. "Eh? Mm, ha, it's back. Mm... hahaha, fun, eh?"

Li Yunxin frowned. "What are you doing—"

But after only one glance toward his waist, he froze.

The sword Bai Yunxin had given him—the one he had buried deeply in the earth—had somehow returned to hang at his waist.