Having completed the Hundred Ghosts Picture, Shao Zhen now felt as though a weight had been lifted from his whole body. He sat comfortably beside the steps in the rear courtyard, basking in the sun. Even though he had slept little the night before, he felt no mental fatigue.
The temple was still bustling. Yi Shuyuan came over from the front and naturally sat down beside him.
Shao Zhen smiled at Yi Shuyuan without saying anything. They sat quietly for a while, watching the sunlight shimmer on the river and the worshippers releasing captive creatures by the steps near the water.
At that moment, although worshippers streamed through the True Lord Temple in a ceaseless throng, the spot where the two sat seemed especially tranquil.
In the end, Yi Shuyuan spoke first.
"Mr. Shao, you helped me achieve a transformation. I must repay this kindness."
Shao Zhen was amused. As expected of a storyteller, Mr. Yi certainly had an interesting way of speaking. Still, such words also showed how deeply he had poured his heart into his storytelling craft. All great masters, past and present, were like that. Was Shao Zhen himself not the same?
"You have it backward, Mr. Yi. You helped me paint the Formless Ghost and complete the Hundred Ghosts Picture. I don't even know how to repay such kindness."
Those were the facts, and the reasoning was sound, but with different knowledge of the matter, Yi Shuyuan saw things differently.
Although the trouble had originally arisen because of Shao Zhen, strictly speaking, Yi Shuyuan had saved his life, settled his troubles, and helped him paint the Hundred Ghosts Picture.
But to Yi Shuyuan, the Formless Ghost transformation was more than a mere change of form. Every transformation had its own wonders. The formless transformation had not