The three listened with interest. What the storyteller recounted was not really secret lore, merely anecdotes circulating among the people.
But they were entertaining enough that even Song Yan and Xiao He, who had no interest in the Painting Dao, listened with relish.
Given the influence of the Daoist Heir's Former Residence, the storyteller naturally told stories about the Painting Sage.
After all, who knew how many of the cultivators present had come for that very reason?
The story he was telling now went like this.
Wu Daoxuan had a close friend who was observing mourning at Heavenly Palace Temple after his mother passed away at the end of her natural lifespan.
At the time, Wu Daoxuan had accepted the Tang Court's invitation to paint a mural at Heavenly Palace Temple.
Seeing how deeply his friend grieved, Wu Daoxuan sought a way to divert his attention and ease his sorrow.
He pretended that he had gone too long without painting and asked his friend to perform a Swordsmanship dance to inspire him.
This friend excelled at Swordsmanship and also hoped that the Painting Sage's work could deliver the departed soul, so he immediately removed his mourning clothes and took flight with his swords.
In an instant, wind and clouds surged above Heavenly Palace Temple, countless flying swords and streams of Sword Qi wheeling through the sky.
Never mind mortals-even cultivators in Qi Refining and the Foundation Establishment Realm felt as though they were gazing upon all the stars of heaven in broad daylight.
At the time, both the monks at Heavenly Palace Temple and the cultivators nearby who witnessed it were shaken, marveling without end.
Wu Daoxuan had originally only intended to help his friend temper his grief and accept his loss. He had never expected to witness such an