Wandering Gods of Day and Night-Chapter 41 - 38 Drawing

41: Chapter 38 Drawing

41 -38 Drawing

“What progress has been made in human experiments later,” Zhou Xuan asked as he touched his kidneys, still within his body, and unexpectedly felt a strange sense of security.

“They went mad, that Great Divine Man turned from a fake madman into a real one, shouting ‘Well!

Well!

Well!’ every time he saw someone.

Sometimes, if the servant girls and porters nearby were inattentive, he’d seize the opportunity to escape, rushing to the outhouse door, yelling ‘Well!

Well!

Well!’ as he jumped into the latrine.”

“Serves him right!” Zhou Xuan vented his frustration sarcastically.

“Later, no one was steadfast in unraveling the mystery of the Blood Well, but the exploration of it never stopped.

Some intensely curious and extremely intelligent individuals, through in-depth research of the Blood Well, slowly came to know why all seven boys and girls went mad.”

“What’s the reason?”

Zhou Xuan perked up his ears, keenly listening to something concerning his future mental state.

“The reason for their madness is related to the spiritual communication of the Incense Burners; not everyone can communicate spiritually.

It requires talent.

Talent varies, with some naturally slow to react and others with meticulous minds and sharp perception.

Those with more meticulous minds and sharper perception are more prone to encountering supernatural events, just like the Stone Talisman.

Most wandering souls and ghostly beings lack sufficient spiritual power or Dao Level.

Slow-reacting people can’t perceive their existence, making them helpless.

People with keen perception can notice the insufficient spiritual power and Dao Level, allowing wandering souls and ghostly beings to act mischievously before them.”

They didn’t trouble the weak, only targeting the strong.

These wandering ghosts were truly mischievous.

*No wonder, within just a few days in Jing Country, I encountered two eerie incidents.*

“People with keen perception, after experiencing supernatural events, would have their perception sharpened.

Once the sharpness surpasses a certain limit, it becomes spiritual, like a cook cutting vegetables, using the knife for a long time, and naturally mastering the art.”

“If I avoid supernatural events, will my perception weaken, and then will my spiritual ability possibly vanish…”

*After listening to Yuan Buyu’s explanation, Zhou Xuan suddenly felt that spiritual communication and strong perception were not good things at all.*

*It made one prone to encountering ghosts, and what’s more, there were side effects wherever there was spiritual communication, there was pain.*

*What use is this ability?*

*It might as well be eliminated,*

*Anyway, being a second-generation rich kid, managing the opera troupe well, having no worries about food and drink, and living comfortably is better, isn’t it?*

*Even if the troupe truly fails, there’s still a pile of ways to make a living.

In the worst case, become a ghostwriter, serialize novels in newspapers, and have no worries about food and clothing.

There’s no need to dive into dealings with ghosts and spirits.*

“Alas, any skill follows the principle of practice makes perfect, but spiritual communication doesn’t.

You don’t cut vegetables, the knife won’t seek you; but if you want to avoid ghostly beings, they have hands and feet and will actively seek you…”

*Damn it, is it like sticking plaster?

Can’t escape it!*

Zhou Xuan huffed, taking a couple of deep drags from his cigarette.

“Try mine instead…

I must tell you about your situation.

This smoke is strong, I fear you can’t handle it without.”

Yuan Buyu offered the copper smoke flask again.

Zhou Xuan shook his head and said, “Go ahead, I can take it.”

“This spiritual ability isn’t the same across the board; the distinction is clear.

The stronger the spiritual ability, the more strange things one perceives, such as ghostly shadows in a bustling market or whispered secrets by ghosts in your ear…

These ghostly whispers severely affect one’s mental state, but if seen or heard long enough, one gets accustomed to it, thinking it’s no big deal.

Plus, each Great Hall has secret methods to calm the mind, almost ensuring that Tangkou Disciples don’t fall into madness.

But for someone like you, who can see the Blood Well after spiritual communication, you have the highest perception among Spiritualists—so high that it breaks the imagination of both Ghosts and Divine People; what you can hear or see, without you telling us, we simply can’t imagine.

The overbearing perception makes the Tangkou’s mind-calming secret methods only slightly effective when you first spiritually communicate.

But as time goes on, the effectiveness diminishes or even becomes nonexistent.

People like you, if they burned incense and their Dao Level improved daily, with perception climbing to its peak, what you could hear and see would become increasingly mysterious and eerie.

Every sound and image would torment your mind, making you irritable, insane, indifferent to life, attempting to destroy everything, until you completely lose your sanity.”

Zhou Xuan broke into a cold sweat, saying, “Since it’s so dangerous, then I won’t burn incense or join a Tangkou.

I’ll just be a normal person.”

“That’s not possible either, I told you, spiritual communication is a gift from the heavens, and it doesn’t come without giving you some added side effects.

The more given, the greater the side effects…

Your spiritual perception is so high, think about how big the side effects are?”

“Why is the heavens so pushy?

I don’t even want it, and yet you’re forcing it into my hands…”

*Zhou Xuan didn’t know what to say, feeling depressed, he suddenly remembered a knowledge point Yuan Buyu mentioned in the morning and said,*

“Oh, Lao Yuan, you said a person can only spiritually communicate once in their lifetime, with the time ranging from one to three months.

If I endure the side effects of these three months, will there be no problem afterward?”

*After finishing his speech, Zhou Xuan felt a bit anxious; this was his last straw of hope.*

“Uh…

That’s for normal Spiritualists…”

“What about someone abnormal like me?”

“According to recent discoveries in Blood Well exploration, for Spiritualists who have seen the Blood Well, if they don’t join an incense hall, the side effects brought by spiritual communication will persist indefinitely.”

“Won’t it ever stop?”

“Unless you’re dead.”

“Uh…” Zhou Xuan fell silent for a while before speaking: “Right, Lao Yuan, you said someone like me would go insane if joining an incense hall, right?

How many years before insanity?”

“There’s no precedent of exceeding five years.”

Five years, huh?

One could do a lot in five years; if visiting a brothel once every two days on average, one could go over nine hundred times…

That’s enough.

Choosing the lesser of two evils, Zhou Xuan had already died once, some matters he could come to terms with.

“Lao Yuan, you’re a master.

My Zhou Family ancestors don’t cherish me, not letting me join the Great Nuodai’s hall; we’re kindred spirits, how about you teach me in the future?

By the way, which Tangkou are you?”

“It’s called the storyteller.”

“Is there such a Tangkou?

No wonder you lent me the storybooks, Liang Zhi!”

“Our Tangkou is well-known; wanting to join and burn incense isn’t easy.

Skills can’t be casually taught.

Let me first assess your talent.”

Yuan Buyu left the room, saying he was going to borrow some testing materials.

“You still want to assess my talent?

Didn’t you hint at it in your words?

For a Spiritualist like me, though I might go mad or die in pain, I have extraordinary talent.”

Zhou Xuan protested.

“Even extraordinary talent has to go through the formalities.

That’s the rule of our Tangkou.”

Once Lao Yuan was gone,

*Zhou Xuan felt a bit whimsical, wondering how talent would be assessed.*

*Find a big stone, place your hand on it, and then—Fighting Spirit, third rank!*

…

Within a few minutes, Yuan Buyu returned, carrying a roll of white paper.

He spread the paper open on the table.

Yuan Buyu handed Zhou Xuan a pencil, saying, “Close your eyes!”

Zhou Xuan took the pencil, closed his eyes, and asked, “Then what?”

“Draw!”

“Draw with eyes closed?”

“Mm.”

“Draw what?”

“Draw your sister, Zhou Lingyi.

Recall her appearance in your mind, and then draw freely.”

“The storyteller’s Tangkou assesses talent by drawing?

You might as well have me recite a tongue twister, I wouldn’t find that so absurd.”

*Zhou Xuan couldn’t understand it no matter how hard he tried.*

“Stop rambling, draw when I tell you to.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll draw!”

Zhou Xuan recalled his sister’s appearance, and the pencil in his hand began to move.

Swish, swish, swish.

The pencil tip moved stiffly on the white paper at first, but as the image of his sister reclining lazily in a grand master’s chair, basking in the sun, formed vividly in Zhou Xuan’s mind, the pencil tip suddenly became lively.

Half an hour later, Zhou Xuan felt the drawing was complete and wanted to open his eyes to see his masterpiece,

when the sound of the gavel rang out.

Bang!

Upon hearing the sound, Zhou Xuan found he couldn’t open his eyes and immediately called out for Yuan Buyu.

“Yuan…

Yuan…”

The three words, Old Man Yuan, twisted in Zhou Xuan’s mouth, he couldn’t find a breath to say them aloud.

“Xuan, I’m testing your spiritual ability.

Don’t speak, just listen to me.”

Yuan Buyu whispered in Zhou Xuan’s ear, then said, “I’ve changed the paper for you, draw again!

Draw me!”

Zhou Xuan again tried to recall the image of Yuan Buyu cooking in his mind, with the pencil becoming an extension of his hand, moving naturally on the paper.

This time, the drawing was even faster than when he drew his sister; it was done in no more than ten minutes.

Bang!

Another crisp sound of the gavel hitting the table, and the restriction on Zhou Xuan’s body was lifted.

He opened his eyes abruptly, seeing two pieces of white paper spread on the table, with doodles more indistinct than a child’s scribbles, completely unrecognizable.

“Is this my drawing?

It’s a mess.”

“Drawing with closed eyes, it’s strange if it’s neat.

However, the feeling of spiritual communication is indeed good; see these lines, not bad, not bad.”

“Where are you seeing the ‘not bad’?”

“Stop joking, I’ll consider accepting you into my Tangkou, go back and wait for news.” Yuan Buyu waved his hand, beginning to send him off.

“Not to delay your thinking, I’ll go back and let my eyes rest.”

After Zhou Xuan left the room, Yuan Buyu looked at the two drawings and sighed.

*”Am I so untalented at drawing?

How did it turn out like this?”*

These two drawings were not done by Zhou Xuan; they were drawn by Yuan Buyu secretly on the side while Zhou Xuan was drawing.

He crumpled up the two lousy drawings into a ball, threw them into the wastebasket, and took two paintings out from a drawer.

These two paintings came from Zhou Xuan’s hand.

The first painting—Zhou Xuan sat in a grand master’s chair sunbathing, while a rope hung from the beam of the house behind him, strangling Zhou Lingyi’s neck and lifting her into the air.

Her chest was pierced by a sharp dagger, with the sheath lying across Zhou Xuan’s knees.

The second painting—Zhou Xuan was cooking in the kitchen, with a pot of fish soup stewing in the big wok.

The golden small fishes seemed to emit a fragrant smell, and at the center of the pot floated a boiled, bloated human head; this head by appearance was none other than Yuan Buyu.

Looking at Zhou Xuan’s two paintings, Yuan Buyu took another drag from the copper smoke flask.

In the thick mist-like smoke, his expression changed unpredictably.