Chapter 107: Changing Heaven And Earth 2
Shen Liqian’s painting scroll was truly magnificent compared to theirs.
The Lapis Lazuli Azure Sea reflected thousands of cavalry and countless soldiers, facing each other, stretching as far as the eye could see, dense and chaotic, with blood filling the sky.
In such a tense moment, only Shen Liqian’s delicate head and graceful eyebrows could be seen. Her jade-like fingers and the Su Nu Chou’s voice rose high and fierce, sweeping towards the armies in the sky and the Azure Sea, shattering heaven and earth.
She and the woman behind her created this domain that covered heaven and earth.
Those who follow me are strengthened; those who oppose me are weakened.
Shen Liqian raised her hand, spiritual power surging at her fingertips. Azure water surrounded her, her eyes sparkling, displaying a different kind of charm.
Then the scene shifted, and she was seen in light armor, facing her approaching opponents, smiling gently, full of spirit.
The opponent’s spiritual flow fell from the sky, capable of destroying heaven and earth, yet Shen Liqian, with her fluttering sleeves, remained unstained.
With a mere slight movement, she dodged that person’s attack. The konghou in her hand transformed unpredictably, becoming a longbow with swift, soaring feathers in the blink of an eye.
She raised the Su Nu Chou, and the water flow surged.
An arrow, vast and mighty.
Golden text floated, casual and unrestrained:
“The konghou moves the four seas, a single arrow breaks through the sky; a pure heart is free, wandering beyond heaven and earth.”
Ming Zhaoshuang looked at these words and slowly walked towards the Fifth Painting Scroll.
A painting scroll belonging exclusively to Qin Feilong.
This is…
The surroundings were hazy, and only a particularly magnificent sect could be seen. Layer upon layer of white jade steps led upwards, with no end in sight. The area was crowded with people, all eyes fixed on the scene.
Qin Feilong knelt on the ground, crawling up the endless white jade steps on his knees.
Fine rain, like mist, washed away the bloodstains of his past.
He kowtowed at each step, arriving before the sect. Then, he seemed to glance at the people within the gates.
Without hesitation, he severed one of his arms!
Immediately after, he summoned his long sword and severed his other arm!
Blood mixed with the rainwater, as did his severed arms, all happening in mere moments.
He raised his head, his gaze resolute, and said something unknown.
Finally, he turned and left the sect, stepping down the jade stairs, through the misty rain, never looking back.
The scene froze on his departing back, and the golden text above read:
“A sentimental young man, indulging in wild abandon; a traveler through the mortal world, sword in hand, severing long-cherished affections.”
Qin Feilong, what exactly did he experience afterward, and what did she change, to make Qin Feilong sever both his arms?
Ming Zhaoshuang couldn’t figure it out. Her steps had already brought her before the Sixth Painting Scroll.
That was Cheng Zhaoyang’s painting scroll.
The sky was vast and the earth boundless. Although it was daytime, it was dim and inverted, like the darkest night. Endless demonic qi covered the entire world, and countless devils surged from the other end of the sky, like innumerable black clouds and dark smoke, kicking up clouds of dust and soil.
Cheng Zhaoyang was covered in dirt and her Changming Sword was broken in two.
She lay on the ground, her broken sword offering little support, yet her eyes still blazed like fire as she looked at the thousands of devils and countless soldiers before her.
There was no spiritual power around her, yet her sword began to tremble.
Not only the sword in her hand, but the swords around her, and even the swords on the entire battlefield, began to tremble.
One, two, three… tens of thousands!
Countless swords, more swords than could be seen, broke free from the control of their cultivators and came to rest behind Cheng Zhaoyang, tilting towards her.
Bowing in submission.
Cheng Zhaoyang stood in the center of the myriad swords and picked up her broken sword.
In an instant, all the long swords surged forward with the broken sword, like a vast sea of dragons, pursuing them.
And Cheng Zhaoyang’s gaze was firm and unrestrained.
The scene quietly ended, but Ming Zhaoshuang remained lost in the shock of this breathtaking painting scroll for a long time.
Ten thousand swords bow, one sword returns to its origin.
There is no greater master of the Sword Dao than this.
Golden light floated, the characters like iron:
“The Golden Crow soars in the sky, the bright heart resonates with the Changming, no resentment for the world’s obscurity, though the sword is broken, the bones remain unbroken.”
The Seventh Painting Scroll belonged to Feng Budu.
Feng Budu’s painting scroll was very similar to Feng He’s. In fact, Feng He appeared first, not Feng Budu herself.
Feng He slightly curved her eyebrows towards Feng Budu, smiling lively and brightly:
“Jiaojiao, don’t always wear such a stern face. Smile at me, smile at me.”
Feng Budu replied indifferently: “Scram.”
Feng He leaned in front of her desk, pouting, her eyes looking pitiful:
“Do you know, ever since I came to the Devil Realm, I haven’t seen you smile once. But! But! I’ve already heard you say ‘scram’ one hundred and eight times! Is that how you treat your Honored Master!”
Feng Budu calmly replied: “Where did one hundred and eight come from? I clearly only said seventy-three.”
Feng He slammed the desk and said angrily:
“Fine! I thought you only said fifty-something! But you said a full seventy-three! Seventy-three! I’m going to Beyond the Heavens to play with Shuangshuang! I’m not playing with you anymore!”
Feng Budu frowned: “You dare.”
Feng He strode out of the door resolutely, turned back, and fiercely said to her:
“See if I dare!”
Feng Budu watched Feng He’s retreating back, and unconsciously her eyebrows curved, and she even let out a laugh.
Like shimmering water.
Ming Zhaoshuang looked towards the golden text and also found herself smiling involuntarily.
“Though blown by the late wind, though trapped in slaughter, since the common people suffer, the wind shall naturally ferry them across.”
The Eighth painting scroll, belonging to A Wei, was very simple.
In the warm Hundred Beasts Cave, sunlight streamed in, and fresh green grass sprouted. She played with various spiritual beasts, full of joy.
Suddenly, she fell into the clear stream, and droplets of clear water splashed onto her arm.
A Wei tilted her head back and laughed, like the brightest flower in spring.
Golden text was inscribed:
“Beasts as friends, birds as companions, following nature’s way with ease, independent as a mountain pheasant in the dim day, why call me a ghost on the mountain?”
Following this was the Ninth Painting Scroll.
Xie Yanning sat amidst a pile of parts and spirit tools, her figure frail, like a weak willow. Yet her ten fingers moved with incredible speed, even conjuring afterimages, as she ceaselessly assembled these fragments, occasionally frowning:
“Strange, Ninth Junior Sister clearly said that as long as the materials were sufficiently dry, this Fireworks Sixteen wouldn’t explode even without spiritual power.”
Suddenly, she looked up, her gaze sweeping towards the white rabbit in the center of the parts, which couldn’t stop defecating and urinating.
“Zhou! Zhou!”
Xie Yanning reached out, picked up the white rabbit, and glared at it, roaring: “I told you not to relieve yourself everywhere!”
Especially not on the parts she had already assembled!
In a fit of anger, Xie Yanning threw the white rabbit more than ten meters away.
The picture became still. The girl in the painting had an extraordinary spirit, fierce and terrifying, showing no trace of a sickly beauty, quite possessing the style of Lu Zhishen uprooting a willow tree.
Golden text floated, appearing on the rabbit’s snow-white belly.
“Originally a loving soul, laying down their sword at a single gesture, the hammer strikes the bones beneath the spring, and finally achieves the Great Dao.”
Ming Zhaoshuang looked at this final scene and couldn’t help but twitch the corner of her mouth. She thought that this cold and sickly Xie Yanning was actually so fiery, which was truly strange.
The Tenth Painting Scroll belonged to Tan Zhu.
Tan Zhu’s painting scroll was exceptionally gloomy, or rather, it was already the Underworld.
She sat in the center of the Underworld, looking at the Ten Yama Kings bowing before her, smiling charmingly and extravagantly.
With one hand, she tightly pressed down on Emperor Fengdu’s head, pushing him into the alchemy cauldron. Blazing flames erupted from the cultivation cauldron, burning him into a mixture of pus, blood, and dust, excessively dirty and disgusting.
Tan Zhu giggled, like the most ferocious vengeful spirit.
The Ten Yama Kings trembled beneath her fiery red skirt hem, but not a single one dared to make a sound.
Golden light floated, and her characters also appeared before Ming Zhaoshuang’s eyes.
“Having visited both the mortal and underworld, transcending the impermanence of life and death, you have lingered with me for so long, now become mine.”
The Eleventh Painting Scroll belonged to Shen Yaobi.
The initial scene was very similar to Shen Liqian’s. The protagonist controlling life and death among endless ants had become her.
She and Shen Liqian stood back to back, one playing the konghou, the other playing the long flute.
In the middle of the lush green seawater, the two of them were like the most harmonious and inseparable Twin Lotuses in the world, sharing life and death.
However, the scene then shifted. The grandeur was gone. The sound of the konghou strummed. Shen Yaobi, in a light dancing skirt, accompanied by Shen Liqian, was like a butterfly dusted with gold powder, flapping her wings and displaying her life.
Shen Yaobi and Shen Liqian, one still and one moving, one sound and one dance, slowly bloomed in the middle of the glass-like Azure Water.
Finally, these two scenes combined into twenty characters.
“Flutes and strings arise, a startled swan breaks through the shadow, twin lotuses entwined, blooming on a single stem.”
