The Fifty-first Illustration: A Turning Point in Development

Bai Shu said, “Archbishop Qi Ning is exceedingly proud and would, of course, never stoop to dealing with someone of the younger generation herself. The election is also under the scrutiny of the God of Justice at the Divine Court headquarters, so even the Hundred Blossoms Saintess cannot sway the outcome directly. However, with enough intent, even the strictest rules have loopholes to be found. The attitude of those in power is always the weather vane for those below.”

Sang Sang raised an eyebrow. “So you’re saying she can’t trouble me personally, but she can orchestrate things from behind the scenes—have the upperclassmen of the Seminary target me during cultivation, or even disrupt my state of mind?”

Bai Shu was surprised. “You know already? Has she made a move?”

Sang Sang neither nodded nor shook her head. “Thank you for the warning. Even if I know, there’s nothing I can do to prevent it. I’ll just deal with whatever comes, one step at a time.”

After leaving the topmost exhibition hall, Sang Sang found that the crowd around her own section had grown even larger. She pulled her hood lower, keeping her head down as she moved through the throng, but suddenly someone grabbed her by the collar and hauled her aside.

Sang Sang shielded Little Gold, who was tumbling in her arms, then turned and nodded to the person who had let go. “Teacher Boya, weren’t you busy observing everyone’s changes?”

“You disrupted things.” Boya languidly tucked a strand of long hair behind her ear. Her movements were so natural, there was no sign she’d just grabbed someone.

Sang Sang was puzzled. “I disrupted things?”

“You wrote the instructions so clearly on the placard that everyone who came hoping for results left disappointed and now blames me. You’re already at the Profound level, yet you hide in the crowd pretending to be a child. If you want a real result, you’ll have to wait another ten thousand years.” Boya gestured for Sang Sang to keep walking. “If I could make the fake into the real, I wouldn’t be a mentor in the elementary division—I’d be in the Life Department’s Breeding Institute.”

Clearly, there were people in the audience whose abilities surpassed Boya’s. Drawn by the nurturing attribute of “Early Lotus,” they arrived only to realize it was a prank, then tried to force Boya to see if she could make the illusion real. Unable, Boya had no choice but to dodge them.

Frowning, Sang Sang privately asked Little Gold: Is reproduction really so difficult for high-level beings?

She sensed something amiss. The nurturing attribute of “Early Lotus” seemed unusually rare, but with the temple’s technology and mastery of laws, shouldn’t pregnancy be a simple matter?

[This is common knowledge; I’ve downloaded it.] Little Gold replied quietly in her mind. [For most species, the higher the level of civilization, the harder natural reproduction becomes. Research shows it’s related to energy: the more energy absorbed, the higher the level, the stronger and longer-lived the body, and correspondingly, the more difficult it is to conceive. This is a rule actively maintained by the Will of the World. Take humans, for example: they’re a species known for strong reproductive ability. Ordinary people, if they try, can have three children in five years. But for those at their level, gestation can last decades. Without cultivation, their natural lifespan could reach a thousand interstellar years. If advanced human civilizations were as fertile, the universe would soon be overrun and resources depleted—the cosmos would quickly age.]

[Children cultivated scientifically with gene-assisted law are fine if the parents are of low level. But for high-level parents, not only is it hard to succeed, but even successful children rarely inherit their parents’ gifts. Statistics show that for parents above the Profound level, ninety-nine point nine percent of gene-bred children can’t reach the Profound rank, and do worse than those whose parents were only at the Star level. For the sake of future generations, advanced civilizations promote natural gestation, accepting the low pregnancy rate in hopes that after hundreds or thousands of years, they might be lucky enough to have one or two children.]

[If that doesn’t work, there’s no need for despair—the temple can nurture children using the Life Department’s source power, but it’s not widely available. It requires great contributions and a long wait in line.]

Sang Sang nodded silently. She should have realized this before. Throughout galactic history, those at the Celestial rank had few descendants, and if they did, most were born before attaining such heights. Even those who managed to have children afterward found that over ninety percent failed to achieve greatness.

Little Gold nudged Sang Sang’s ear and whispered, [The nurturing attribute is very popular—it’s an easy way to make money.]

Sang Sang had the same thought. I know. When I have time, I’ll look into it. Help me search for anyone who specializes in nurturing laws; let’s see if we can learn from them.

The crowd in the exhibition hall had grown since she’d arrived. But whereas before the air had been alive with excitement and anticipation, now disappointment and anger prevailed. Some were debating just how lifelike the fetal features in the painting were—whether it could possibly be real, searching for clues within the artwork. Others, who hadn’t been deceived, were simply there for the spectacle, gossiping about which star students from each academy had fallen for the prank. The most famous seemed to be the Skyfire Captain, a so-called Knight of Blaze, who’d declared that even if she made it through the semifinals, he’d see her lose the final vote.

Sang Sang asked quietly, Little Gold, who is this Skyfire Captain?

[Ranked eleventh on the Seminary’s Purification Trial Leaderboard—a prominent upperclassman. He leads the Skyfire Squad and is at the Seminary to burnish his credentials before returning to inherit a throne. He comes from an advanced civilization, in the faith zone of the current First Saint Son. You don’t need to worry about him.] After a pause, Little Gold added, [By the usual pattern, rivals will suppress one another, not help. You’re destined to defeat Bai Shu in the future—why would she warn you about the Hundred Blossoms Saintess?]

Bai Shu doesn’t see me as a rival now. She values my potential. Don’t you think she’s looking down from on high, treating me as a child? Sang Sang touched Little Gold lightly. She did tell me the Hundred Blossoms Saintess was targeting me, but did that help? Even the three great factions within the temple are no secret to me. All she said was the obvious. She thinks I’m collateral damage in the power games above—pities me for struggling up from a lesser civilization, only to be suppressed for having no backing, and regrets that there will be one less opponent in the future. Her warning was just to ease her own conscience, so that one day she can say with a lofty air, “It’s a shame about Sang Hongye. I warned her back then, but she wouldn’t listen. Otherwise, I’d still have a worthy rival now.”

Little Gold said, [I almost marked her as a good person. The human heart is truly complicated.]

You’re not wrong. The temple values deeds over intentions—by their standards, she is a good person. Sang Sang frowned. The talk surrounding “Early Lotus” was growing too loud, and some were even disparaging the art of danqing itself.

The attribute effects of a painting are given by the creator; they have nothing to do with the technique. There are plenty of “World Paintings” featuring black death, yet no one says world paintings are evil.

The real issue is that she’s still too weak, so anyone can trample her without consequence.

Leaving the ninth exhibition hall, Sang Sang let out a breath, though she could still hear snippets like “nurture,” “Sang Hongye,” “evil,” and “reproduction” drifting to her ears as she made her way toward the nearest portal.

What she had thought was a minor prank had spiraled far beyond expectations. Not only had the story spread with astonishing speed, but it seemed there was an undercurrent determined to nail Sang Sang to the pillar of shame. As she descended the exhibition steps, the gossip fell as flat as her footsteps—first dismissing it as a childish prank, then decrying jokes about reproduction as unacceptable, then questioning the morality of mocking the sanctity of life. Before long, the talk had turned to whether someone ignorant and uncivilized, hailing from a lower civilization, could truly be a candidate for the temple’s representative—the Saintess.

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