Cultivating for a hundred lifetimes to ascension Chapter 1472 - 796: Broken Pen (2)

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Zhao Sheng connected with his strike perfectly, then unleashed three swift punches without delay, each one slamming into the enemy's throat.

A sharp crack echoed as Su Heihu's neck snapped right away, forcing him to drop to his knees, his head drooping low.

Zhao Sheng advanced and delivered a powerful kick, hurling the foe straight off the bank and tumbling into the river.

Su Heihu's demise caused the Will Heart Light to ease up slightly.

A wave of clarity washed over Zhao Sheng, like a heavy burden lifting from his frame.

"Help! Someone's in the water!"

Moments after he turned away and departed, a passerby spotted the drifting body in the river and yelled out, drawing a gathering crowd in no time.

In Mingxi Town, folks often say the east side thrives with riches while the west struggles in poverty. The town's dock sits on the eastern edge, so families scraping by from dock work cluster close by.

As years passed, this spot turned into a sprawling slum district, filled with rundown shacks, cramped lanes, and filthy conditions everywhere.

Zhao Sheng searched for a resident in this very area.

While navigating a tight passageway and dodging several puddles of waste, a large yellow hound burst from the alley's mouth, tail swinging wildly as it dashed by him, sporting a vivid yellow collar as thick as a thumb.

This sight stirred something in Zhao Sheng, prompting him to trail behind quietly.

Unaware of the follower, the yellow hound bounded through a couple of lanes and slipped into a modest yard with crumbling walls.

Zhao Sheng drew near, peering through the broken barrier into the yard, where he spotted a boy of seven or eight sprawled on the dirt, sketching away.

The boy's garments were tattered, yet his young face stayed spotless. Right then, he gripped a snapped writing brush, scribbling steadily across a flat stone.

Despite the hound's playful leaps and barks circling the boy, nothing broke his concentration; his face held a look of total immersion.

Witnessing this, Zhao Sheng appeared lost in contemplation.

He observed quietly for some time, waiting until the boy completed his work on the stone before rising from the ground.

At that, Zhao Sheng's gaze sharpened, and he moved ahead to shove the creaky wooden gate open, stepping inside the yard.

The boy noticed the intruder and tensed up, eyes flickering with caution.

Zhao Sheng offered a soft smile, his voice warm and soothing: "Don't worry, little one. Is this the Li household?"

"Yes, our family name is Li, that's correct, but I'm the only one here now. Have you got the wrong spot?" The boy nodded at first, then questioned with a confused look.

Zhao Sheng kept his friendly grin and pressed on, "Was your father Li Zhi?"

Surprise lit up the boy's face as he blurted, "How do you know about my father? He's been gone for three years, though—meeting him won't help."

"Your father's passed, but you're still here, aren't you? I wish to purchase this yard—state your price."

With those words out, as though recalling a detail, Zhao Sheng added, "Oh, and what's your name?"

The boy's thoughts spun from the offer, and he answered on impulse, "I'm Li Wuhui—Wuhui, as in no regrets!"

The moment the words left him, Li Wuhui shook off the daze and pressed seriously, "What you mentioned... you're not tricking me, are you?"

Zhao Sheng chuckled and replied, "I don't joke around. I'll take the yard and all its contents. What if we settle on one hundred taels total?"

"Fine, it's a deal!" Li Wuhui jumped at the chance without a second thought.

One hundred taels in full! That sum could snag two yards like this. Only an idiot would turn it down!

"Agreed!" Zhao Sheng beamed in approval and continued, "I don't carry the one hundred taels on me at the moment. How about you come with me to the estate for the silver and to sign the deed?"

Li Wuhui, sharp as he was, paused with uncertainty at the suggestion.

Spotting the hesitation, Zhao Sheng clarified at once, "Why would I, Zhao Sheng, cheat a young kid like you? Everyone knows my family runs multiple grain and oil stores across Mingxi Town. A hundred taels means little to us."

Li Wuhui eyed him doubtfully but closely watched Zhao Sheng's face, and his suspicions faded by more than half.

"All right, I'll come along," Li Wuhui settled on trusting him, then instructed the yellow hound to watch over the place.

With that, he prepared to head out.

Zhao Sheng laughed lightly and guided Li Wuhui from the yard, making their way to the Zhao estate.

During the trip, he lightly probed into old stories about the boy's father, Li Zhi.

Li Wuhui harbored no doubts and answered each query with enthusiasm.

Through this, Zhao Sheng learned more about Li Zhi, a man utterly devoted to his art of painting.

Driven to master the ultimate heights of painting, Li Zhi sold off his family inheritance and wandered the lands for over a decade.

When he came back, pressured by his parents, Li Zhi wed, but his passion for painting never wavered.

For his masterpiece, the Hell Creatures Painting, Li Zhi poured in a full decade and drained every ounce of his vitality.

In those years, his child entered the world, dubbed Wuhui to signify a life free of regrets.

An hour passed before Zhao Sheng brought Li Wuhui back to the Zhao estate. He convinced the family head to acquire Li Zhi's former home for one hundred taels of fine silver.

Aware of his youth and inability to protect the funds, Li Wuhui asked Zhao Sheng to store the silver at the Ten Kings Temple, handing it over to the priest for secure keeping.

Zhao Sheng accepted the idea without protest.

...

Shortly afterward, Zhao Sheng and his group arrived back at the rundown yard.

Woof woof!

Spotting his young owner return, the yellow hound thumped its tail in delight, leaping circles around the boy.

Li Wuhui wrapped his arms around the dog's neck, his childish features glowing with joy—after all, he was merely eight years old.

Zhao Sheng observed their frolic with a grin before commenting, "Wuhui, that collar on the yellow hound catches my eye too. Would you part with it for me?"

Li Wuhui blinked in surprise at the request, then bobbed his head solemnly: "Everything in here is yours now, except the hound itself."

"What a fine lad!" Zhao Sheng commended.

As he spoke, he strode to the stone slab, stooped to grab the fractured brush, and inquired, "Then this damaged brush belongs to me as well, doesn't it?"

Li Wuhui viewed the action with bewilderment, scratching his head over the grown-up's intent.

It was merely a useless snapped brush—why give it such focus?

Though he couldn't grasp the reasoning, Li Wuhui nodded firmly and stated, "My father used this brush. If Young Master desires it, go ahead and take it."

Zhao Sheng gave a faint smile and tucked the broken brush into his sleeve right away.

Afterward, he roamed the whole yard, scrutinizing each piece closely, ultimately gathering seven or eight items like a worn-out brush, a carving tool for paintings, and an ink slab.

Li Wuhui followed these actions with growing curiosity, but wise beyond his years, he held back from asking and simply tucked the puzzle away in his mind.

...

As midnight deepened, the Ten Kings Temple lay shrouded in gloom and stillness, its occupants lost in deep slumber.

When heavy clouds veiled the luminous moon, a dark figure scaled the wall, slipping into the rear yard like a stealthy nocturnal bird.

Soon enough, the figure arrived at a room's window edge, quietly forcing it ajar in an attempt to slip inside.

In that instant, a wave of intent washed across the figure like a tide, causing blood to stream from its senses, its form to seize up, and it to crumple motionless to the earth.

As the clouds parted, Zhao Sheng materialized by the window, gazing down at the fallen boatman with a subtle smirk.

This so-called "boatman" ranked among the rare Immortal Ruins Guests still clinging to life.

He hadn't found the chance to handle them before, yet here one delivered itself to him.

Zhao Sheng hoisted the body, gave a light push off the ground, and vanished into the shadows.

Moments later, before the Netherworld Sea Death Map in the Yama Divine Hall, Zhao Sheng flung the boatman down casually.

With a mere flicker of intent, the boatman coughed up blood that gathered into a blob suspended in the air.

Zhao Sheng produced the broken brush, soaked its point in the blood, and sketched across the canvas with bold, fluid strokes, swiftly forming a bridge to the far shore.

Once the Naihe Bridge took shape, the All Living Beings Map burst into radiant glow, and the broken brush stirred from its rest, releasing a profound and awe-inspiring presence.

Right then, the hall, the altar, the village, and all else dissolved into nothingness, overtaken by an endless crimson glow.

This crimson glow stemmed from a Blood Pearl.

It seemed to Zhao Sheng as if a droplet of Blood Pearl seeped gradually from the split end of the broken brush.

At the same time, from the depths of Zhao Sheng’s Soul Sea, a jade tome ascended slowly.

The tome released a soft white radiance that, upon meeting the crimson glow, melted it away instantly.

In the areas where the white light extended, space and time grew firm and unyielding,