Chapter Eighty-Eight: The Realm of Painted Rosy Clouds [An Extra Chapter for Mo Yan’s Heshi Jade]

“How much farther?”
“We’ll be there soon, just one more teleportation gate.”

The starship passed through the motionless wormhole and emerged from the other side.

Teleportation gates, also known as stargates, are constructed in the void, with fixed origin and destination points allowing passage for large fleets. Except for certain strategic zones with special locations, stargates are only established in bustling star regions where commerce thrives.

Danxia Painting Realm belongs to the former. Ahead, visible to the naked eye, is a semi-ring-shaped interstellar city, beneath which, within the thick dust clouds and nebula barriers, lies the Danxia Painting Realm.

The temple controls many minor worlds, most of which were formed from the original star cores after the fall of great powers. Danxia Painting Realm is particularly unique, for its master’s soul neither vanished nor reincarnated upon death, but instead fused with their original magical artifact, becoming a presence akin to the world’s will.

By the scale of civilization, Danxia Painting Realm is merely a level-three civilization, but with the presence of world will, nothing below galactic level can transcend it. This world will is stubbornly resolute, with multiple records of forcibly suppressing and erasing geniuses who entered for advanced study. When alive, its master was a high-contribution priest of the temple, bearing an amnesty from the main divine court. Thus, the temple turns a blind eye to its actions. Despite the allure of creation laws, very few dare choose this realm for cultivation; Boya is one of only two who entered, obtained the law of creation, and emerged unharmed.

Unfortunately, Boya specializes in life laws; integrating the creation law into life diminished its creative power but strengthened vitality, losing the hallmark of creation.

In Danxia Painting Realm, painting reigns supreme. All living beings revolve around painting for survival. Clothing, food, shelter, and transport depend on painting, and any invention or technology not serving painting is deemed heresy. Those who try to pursue other paths are abandoned and erased by the world’s will.

Here, painters are the noblest. Next are warriors who protect them, followed by artisans crafting brushes, pigments, and paper, then civilians cultivating the raw materials, and finally the talentless, grouped with criminals as the condemned.

More extreme is the process after death; souls do not return to their origin but enter the domain of Danxia’s master, where memories are cleansed and reincarnation occurs—not through natural birth, but by painting an infant portrait and immersing it in a gestation pool. The nurturing ritual draws in the soul; these artificially created humans suffer genetic defects, so Danxia’s people can reach no higher than heavenly rank, with lifespans under two hundred years.

Some have accused Danxia’s master of meddling with life and impeding civilization’s progress. But as the creator deity of the realm, he uses souls captured from primitive civilizations, in limited numbers, without infringing upon others’ interests; even the temple doesn’t interfere, so neither do other powers.

Danxia’s master explains that retaining these souls is not mere laziness, but to cultivate sensitivity to creation law. With repeated reincarnation, the realm now has more painterly potential than ever. Though his experiment has not succeeded, it is not a total failure.

It is precisely because of Danxia’s master that this world lacks independent growth, becoming more distorted under the control of the world’s will. Of course, locals sense nothing amiss, while outsiders—like Sang Sang—are drawn to such distortion and have no reason to expose it.

“Which one is here for advanced study?” Danxia’s master, a human male with snow-white hair and youthful features, thick brows and large round eyes, his cheeks adorned with dimples that appear when he speaks. If not for the weary gaze and dull hair, he’d resemble a charming boy of ten.

Cain pressed down on the Heavenly Emperor and handed Danxia’s master a small basin, no larger than an inkstone, its water nearly dry. He pointed to Sang Sang. “Candidate for Saintess, Sang Hongye. Medium: painting.”

“Elf Saint.” Danxia’s master gave a low hum, and upon hearing that Sang Sang’s medium was painting, his gaze swept over. “Painting? Let me see your skill.”

Sang Sang recalled Boya’s advice and produced the carefully painted “Waves upon the Sea,” a small fan surface where ink flowed, depicting surf crashing against rocks, tides rising and falling. Its healing effect is rare: soul fusion, mending the fissures left by soul fragmentation. The waves carry the power of time, washing over the soul, gradually restoring it to its original wholeness.

“Five realms of time and space?” Danxia’s master glanced at “Waves upon the Sea,” his round eyes growing wider as he snatched the painting for closer inspection. “Just four realms, and soul fusion from Master Yuan Mo? He gave you inheritance?”

Sang Sang shook her head. “Merely an infusion, not inheritance.”

Danxia’s master frowned. “No wonder you’re only second realm. Who taught you painting?”

Sang Sang replied, “Elf Boya.”

“His student, then.” Danxia’s master put away the painting, looked up, and said, “You may enter, but the other two must accept restrictions. I’ll grant you convenience; they may not use powers above heavenly rank.”

Cain said, “We will abide by your rules.”

“Go on.”

With a flick of his sleeve, Danxia’s master sent three round jade discs into Sang Sang’s hands, and the trio plunged downward from the clouds.

“If you pass my test, I can grant you an infusion of creation law.” Danxia’s master’s voice sounded in Sang Sang’s ear, leaving her stunned.

The Heavenly Emperor caught Sang Sang’s hand, noting her unsettled expression. “What’s wrong?”

Sang Sang shook her head, slowed her descent, fluttering like a butterfly on the breeze. Through the soul contract’s link, she sent a mental message to the Heavenly Emperor: ‘Tell me, if someone died tens of thousands of years ago, their soul utterly shattered, and you gathered the fragments, gave them a body—could they truly be revived?’

‘Impossible,’ the Heavenly Emperor replied decisively, his eyes shifting. ‘That old man wants to revive someone? No wonder you showed him “Waves upon the Sea,” with its soul fusion and time-space powers. He wants to use temporal force to revive fragmented souls. Four realms of time and space definitely aren’t enough. Don’t even think about it.’

Sang Sang: ‘I know soul revival is a forbidden art. Even with a time-space origin, forcing it could lead to backlash from temporal forces. But if the Danxia elder is willing to trade an infusion of creation law, I’m tempted. The soul hasn’t returned to its origin, so there’s no need to fight for it. It’s simply linking the soul’s past, present, and future with temporal force to restore vitality. The backlash shouldn’t be too severe, and even if it is, can’t it be eliminated or transferred—say, to the revived subject?’

The Heavenly Emperor mused, ‘Let me think. In principle, it’s not impossible.’

Sang Sang’s eyes sparkled. ‘I think it’s quite possible. The more the revived person alters fate, the stronger the temporal backlash. Conversely, if they live in seclusion, as long as their cultivation is not too weak, resisting the backlash is feasible. With the world will’s favor, they might even achieve immortality alongside the minor world.’

The Heavenly Emperor said, ‘The question is how to transfer the backlash.’

ps: The second volume begins! The Danxia Painting Realm arc opens. This is a thoroughly satisfying volume; Sang Sang will grow stronger, and everyone will rise. Please subscribe to the official version—if you can’t, at least support the initial order. Thank you! Next update at 8:10 PM~~ (To be continued.)