When Pan Long saw that the scholars in the mural had changed, a chill rose in his heart.
The mural was enormous. The despair on "Brother Wang's" face and the terror of the other scholars were all perfectly clear. The painting made them look slightly different from the people he had just encountered, but on closer inspection, he could still identify each face and match them one by one.
"What's going on now? Could the figures in this painting be more than illusions? Could it really have drawn in scholars from Emperor Wuzi's era?"
Pan Long muttered to himself, his brows drawn tight.
His instincts told him that was impossible!
For one thing, the senior who had left the mural might not have been an Immortal Buddha of Everlasting Life. Even if an Immortal or Buddha had created it, there was no way a painting could extend several mortals' lives by hundreds of years.
Immortals and Buddhas possessed vast powers, but even they had to follow certain laws. They could not simply make every wish come true.
Take his teacher, Bi Lingkong. Her powers surpassed those of many Immortals and Buddhas, yet when she wanted to teach him, she could not do as people did in folktales—touch his brow with one finger and make him understand everything at once. She had to teach him the basics bit by bit, guide him through practice, and spend considerable time and effort before he learned anything.
Perhaps an Immortal or Buddha who watched over them constantly could keep a few mortals alive for centuries. But to accomplish that with nothing more than a painting... Impossible! Absolutely impossible!
Even Bi Lingkong could not do that!
With that thought, his expression grew resolute again.
"All things are empty. Every sight arises from the mind, so