Now that image had settled into the upper right of the scroll in his hands.
Pei Ye slowly shifted his gaze, and beheld the most mysterious and magnificent image of his life. It truly stirred the heart and shook the soul.
Those vast silhouettes of towering mountains, the clouds, the lofty trees-none of them had been painted as mere embellishments. Any single bird, taken on its own, would have been an exquisite masterpiece.
Yet these magnificent brushstrokes, which shied away from no complexity, piled thousands upon thousands of masterpieces into a mountain landscape that occupied only two portions along the lower edges of the painting.
And at its center were brushstrokes that approached the immortal and the divine.
Precisely because the grandeur of Cang Mountain already inspired the utmost awe, and because the mountain scenery along the edges was so lifelike and delicate, the vast, misty expanse in the middle exuded such heart-crushing power.
There was only the sky, and a winding, descending silhouette like a Jiaolong.
But it was even more immense than the towering mountains on either side, almost like a python pressing down upon anthills-but it was not a Jiaolong.
Only when the entire scroll lay before him did Pei Ye realize that it was not that the upper-right corner had left out its head, claws, and tail. Rather, this elongated form had never possessed any of those three things.
It stretched far beyond the proportions a Jiaolong should have had. From afar, it resembled a strand of a woman's hair-exactly like the tentacles that wound out from the Divine Child.
Pei Ye did not know what it was. Even for something like an octopus's tentacle, it was far too long and slender.
It extended to the very top of the painting, where one corner of a