"Stop doubting it," Mu Daxian said hurriedly. "You created this thing through Overwriting. If you doubt it, it'll weaken and disappear."
Mu Daxian patted Mao Feiyang on the shoulder. "Dry your clothes first... you seem to have a lot of questions. I can take my time explaining things to you."
"Yeah, okay." Mao Feiyang nodded earnestly.
Mu Daxian looked at Mao Feiyang and thought, Little Mao might be a real bastard, but he genuinely has a knack for this. The way he outperforms himself at crucial moments is as ridiculous as fucking summoning a founding master to possess him.
Mao Feiyang wandered around the confines of the dead end, marveling at the walls that stayed bright and warm without a single light.
"Brother Xian, you're the real Art Teacher, aren't you..." After much sighing in admiration, Mao Feiyang ultimately gave Mu Daxian the credit.
This kind of crash-course instruction really was on par with master teacher Kaido's one-click triple combo.
Mu Daxian shook his head slightly. "With fire in your heart, you can see the light."
Mao Feiyang could not help sucking in a breath. "Brother Xian, don't tell me you're into mysticism? I heard that whether you study art or science, you end up studying mysticism..."
Mu Daxian glanced at him. "Painting is a link that allows us to make immature use of our own supernatural power."
"It amplifies certain desires deep inside you, allowing you to channel and release them in your own way."
"Don't this light and warmth feel a little familiar?"
Mao Feiyang froze slightly at those words. After thinking it over, his eyes gradually widened. "Brother Xian, you mean... the streetlamps?!"
The dead end was now like a space illuminated by a streetlamp. Both the light and heat were exactly the same as when they