The Forty-Seventh Illustration: The Future Within the Painting

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Sangsang stood for a long time, memorizing the candidate inside through the barrier. He was a male contestant, appearing older than her, nearly a young adult. He smiled as he listened to the audience’s requests, using his finger as a pen to write something on an energy sheet.

Little Jin, dissatisfied, tugged at Sangsang’s hair. “Let’s go. He’s nowhere near as handsome as the Heavenly Emperor. If you like this law, I’ll order law candies for you from the StarNet.”

“No need for now. I haven’t fully absorbed the laws I got from the Tomb of the Gods,” Sangsang shook her head and moved upward.

After seeing so many media works, novelty faded for her. Just the combination of words and paintings alone numbered over ten; aside from the one involving creation, which caught her eye, the rest were unremarkable. She scrutinized the painting entries—without exception, they were all world paintings, only differing in style. The laws embedded were nothing more than purification, healing, protection, and life. Compared to Teacher Boya’s masterpieces, these works, though not rubble, were at best glass beads.

Unconsciously, she arrived at her own exhibition booth. The room was crowded, with even more spectators outside. Her booth seemed the most popular and lively, but listening closely, it was clear that wasn’t the case. In summary, half accused Sang Hongye of an undeserved reputation, a mere native from the wild star regions, whose work betrayed a lack of refinement; the other half debated why, despite the prank marker, the prank’s effects hadn’t been discovered after several days—perhaps an extra marker had been added, but since it passed the main brain’s detection, such an obvious mistake shouldn’t have occurred.

Hearing that the collective pregnancy result hadn’t yet been revealed, Sangsang’s smile deepened. She heard Little Jin’s joints crack as it protested on her behalf. “Their eyes are wasted! Sangsang’s work is unique, the laws within are above average. She simply didn’t decorate her booth extravagantly like the others. The work itself is what matters! A bare room with just one piece stands out the most. When the second effect explodes, let’s see how they slap themselves with their own words.”

“There’s no point getting angry at irrelevant people’s words,” Sangsang patted Little Jin and entered the room.

After the baptism of the Tomb of the Gods, Sangsang’s strength had greatly increased. Looking at “Early Lotus” now, she herself felt it was coarse. Setting aside those who purely nitpicked, some spectators’ comments were quite reasonable—the room contained only a single bare work, no larger than a few feet, smaller than the heads of some large races, indeed giving off a stingy impression.

She was pondering how to design the booth when someone suddenly approached, attempting to place a hand on her shoulder. She frowned, sidestepped a meter away, and turned to salute. “Teacher.”

Boya’s outstretched hand had yet to withdraw. “What are you thinking about?”

Sangsang replied, “How to arrange the booth.”

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With a wave of his hand, Boya’s cloak enveloped Sangsang. When the dark green cloak fell, she found herself in the exhibition’s hidden setup center.

“Imagine whatever furnishings you need here. You can use laws; they will be applied automatically to the entire exhibition area.”

Sangsang remained still. “Can I change the painting?”

“You can.” Boya gestured, clearing all the spectators from the room. “The shield is up—go ahead and modify it. Let me see what you gained from the Tomb of the Gods.”

“I won’t let you down, Teacher.” Sangsang smiled, took down the painting from the booth, and didn’t use a brush—she simply altered the laws within.

“Purification has reached the fourth realm, space as well. You’ve even fused space-time?! That’s not easy. You must have spent quite some days inside. Alan said you obtained the Sacred Heart of the Primordial Demon, so she wasn’t lying to me.” Boya’s eyes widened, seeing Sangsang use space-time laws, still somewhat incredulous.

“It’s still shallow. I can’t directly raise someone’s power to a future stage, only deceive consciousness,” Sangsang explained, then added, “If consciousness uses the rudimentary space-time law, it can glimpse a scene from its own future. Someone observant might use it to discern their future cultivation path.”

Boya nodded. “That’s a great idea. When the pregnancy effect emerges, no one will dare trouble you.”

Sangsang wasn’t afraid of trouble, but had simply done an experiment on a whim. After modifying the painting, she used the laws of true illusion to turn the room into a mirage, inspired by Little Jin—a classical Chinese study of ancient wood architecture, carved lattice windows, a desk and couch with a twelve-flower goddess screen, bookshelves filled with volumes, a jar brimming with scrolls, pen racks, inkstones, and paperweights neatly arranged. Early Lotus hung upright on the wall opposite the desk...

She lifted the shield from the room and let the audience back in. Sangsang hid in a corner, filtering out malicious remarks and selectively listening to good suggestions. Soon, someone noticed changes in the painting.

“Space-time! There’s definitely a space-time law in there!” A student flew out from the painting, followed by several others—one aquatic race was still in carp form, blowing its whiskers and flapping its mouth.

“The medium’s space has expanded—there are mountains, streams, and a lotus pond. After entering, four lines appear in your mind...”

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“‘The spring’s eye is silent, cherishing the gentle trickle; tree shade reflects on water, loving the soft brightness; young lotus just reveals its pointed tip, and already a dragonfly stands atop.’ This form is called poetry. It’s a cultural heritage from Sang Hongye’s homeland—a second-level civilization’s history can be quite wonderful.”

“Forget the poetry, there’s space-time inside! I saw myself failing to break through the Mystic level—it proves I’m not suited for the Life system, better to stick with Water.”

“I saw myself succeed in breaking through Mystic, but my main discipline wasn’t Star Core, it was the Ninefold War Body. Everyone says I’m better at martial arts; yesterday my teacher suggested I intern with the War King. I replied I’d consider it, reluctant to give up spiritual arts, but I guess I should accept.”

“Isn’t the main point space-time?! How can a native from the wild star regions fuse space-time? All the students at the Divine Academy combined barely have ten who can do this, and she’s lower grade—how does she qualify?”

“Ha! What qualification? It’s aptitude! She’s from a small place, but just has exceptional insight—your jealousy won’t help you!”

“Hmph! Who says I’m jealous? What’s the use of space-time fusion—it can’t condense the origin. Without origin, space-time is just a minor art!”

“Too bad you can’t grasp even minor arts. And who says Sang Hongye can’t condense space-time origin? Maybe she’s a genius—she might accomplish what hasn’t been done in tens of thousands of years.”

“You’re joking...”

Boya heard the dispute, flicked Sangsang’s forehead. “What do you think?”

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