Chapter 623: Kun-Peng Painting—I

Yu Ke dipped his brush in ink, and the ink dripped like night dew onto the white rice paper, spreading into a black stain.

He closed his eyes and focused; Xie Guan's memories surged into his mind like a tide, the brush in his hand merging with his soul, each stroke flowing without hindrance.

Years of memories churned in his heart; after a brief pause, he had already decided.

He shifted his brushstroke, drawing a long, sweeping line across the paper.

Li Xiangjun and the others had just witnessed the strange sight of Xie Guan painting; now they clustered around, holding their breath.

Zhou Yuner leaned close, seeing the ink on the white paper ripple like waves, as if brimming with boundless life.

Yu Ke bore the Destiny of "The Brush Holds Spirit," where ink and brush naturally carried divine essence—each stroke infused the paper with spiritual energy.

Jia Yu and the other two stared without blinking; the white paper showed surging waves, their eyes filled with wonder.

"There is… divine grace in Master Xie's brush!"

Though this was Jia Yu's second time seeing it, his eyes still held disbelief.

Such brushwork, like a divine miracle, was truly astonishing.

Yu Ke's brush never paused.

A few strokes fell, curving lines forming waves that churned violently upon the surface.

Zhang Yuan had already recognized the scene.

"Is this… the sea?"

The territory of the Great Qi stretched vast, its eastern border touching the ocean.

The shores of the Eastern Sea were famed as gateways to the sea, the very point from which seekers of immortals set sail.

Most people of Great Qi knew the saying: "Beyond mountains lie more mountains; beyond heaven lies the sea."

Yu Ke "parted" the brushstrokes, like a long wind sweeping diagonally across the paper.

A few dots fell, like a torrential downpour.

Beneath the gale and storm.

The scene on the white paper surged as if caught in a gale, whipping up mountains of waves, the sea roaring in fury.

Heavy rain poured down, the sea's surface heaving and trembling!

In this turbulent sea, every wave resembled a sculpted masterpiece—some towering like peaks, others sinking like valleys, endlessly shifting and unpredictable.

Yu Ke's brush never halted, flowing like clouds and water, effortless and free.

Amid the churning waves, he suddenly shifted his stroke, lightly dotting a few ink marks beneath the layers, then swiftly sketching a few more lines.

He Xiao's gaze followed every change on the painting, a profound, indescribable shock rising within him.

He saw clearly: within this boundless "sea," something extraordinary was being born.

Unconsciously, he whispered, voice trembling with disbelief: "Is it… a great fish? Could such a colossal creature truly dwell in the deep sea?"

Hearing this, Yu Ke added a few more strokes—the painting's mystery erupted!

A faint presence emerged from the churning waves, gradually revealing its form—a massive fish's back, cleaving the sea like a mountain, majestic and awe-inspiring.

He painted gently, each stroke carrying the weight of a thousand catties, freezing the instant the giant fish burst from the waves onto the paper.

The fish's shape was unmistakably fish-like, yet impossibly vast.

Everyone present held their breath, staring.

Jia Yu's eyes flickered with memory; he spoke slowly: "Ancient texts record legends of a giant fish in the sea, called the whale, its body as large as mountains, swimming through the deep ocean."

The giant fish slowly rose, its full form now revealed to all.

What a colossal fish it was—its tail flicked once, stirring up towering waves, the sea churning violently.

Gasps and exclamations rose from the crowd.

Jia Yu and the others' faces showed shock; this scene had drawn the attention of Chen Mu and Chen Yong.

Chen Yong stepped forward; the crowd naturally parted, clearing a path for him.

"This… is a whale!"

"The whale is a giant fish of the sea. It swims deep in the azure waters, glides through the vast currents, dives into the boundless Bohai, and lashes its tail beneath roaring storms."

Chen Yong's eyes brimmed with astonishment, yet the boy's brush never slowed, dancing like a dragon and serpent.

Now, another marvel arose!

The whale sprouted wings—when spread, they resembled clouds and dawn light, blotting out sky and sun, magnificent beyond words.

The fish's body grew a beak, unfurled wings, its feathers shimmering with golden radiance, dazzling and brilliant.

It burst from the sea, battling wind and waves!

Jia Yu's gaze sharpened: "Could this be the Peng bird?"

"The Peng, as a bird, flares its feathers, feasts freely, folds its wings within the boundless heavens, stretches its neck beside the vast rivers and seas—neither wild geese nor ducks can match its grandeur…"

Chen Yong recited slowly, his voice laced with awe.

Chen Mu watched the astonishment on his eleventh brother's face, his own expression equally puzzled.

Though Chen Yong was frail and often ill, he excelled in chess, music, calligraphy, and painting—since childhood, he had been exceptionally gifted, diligent in study, and stood out among all imperial princes.

Moreover, his maternal lineage hailed from northern nobility; his horizons were vast—what rare treasures had he not seen?

The vermilion jade and ivory elephants sent from southern Buddhist lands, the swift steeds from the northern land of immortality—all meant little to him, unworthy of notice.

For Xie Guan's painting to stir such awe in Chen Yong was truly rare.

He could not help but step closer to the table, studying it closely.

"This…"

Chen Mu stared at the white paper: the whale had transformed into a Peng bird, the Peng bird shifted again, sinking back into the waves, endlessly changing.

Chen Yong spoke solemnly: "This is the Kun-Peng."

"In the Northern Abyss there is a fish, named Kun. Kun's size is unknown—perhaps thousands of li. It transforms into a bird, named Peng. Peng's back is unknown—perhaps thousands of li. When it rages and flies, its wings hang like clouds from heaven."

Jia Yu murmured softly: "The Kun in the sea is like the embryo of a great sage nurtured within the Dao itself—like the great Kun, only the vastness of the Northern Sea can nurture its might."

Chen Mu stared at the painting: amid the surging waves, a giant fish rose and fell beneath the surface, then suddenly spread its wings and soared straight into the clouds.

The painting seemed to hold the spirit of heaven and earth, slowly shifting, captivating the eye without pause.

Children on adults' shoulders cried out in wonder: "The painting's moving!"

Their voices were childish, brimming with amazement.

Chen Yong looked up to see the boy had stopped painting and was re-dipping his brush, preparing to inscribe words on the left side of the paper.

His brushwork brimmed with myriad forms, like dragons and serpents dancing.

Chen Yong clapped his hands in admiration: "Truly masterful calligraphy—powerful enough to pierce through the paper, majestic and imposing!"

Yu Ke's brush never paused, writing slowly.

"Men of this age do not recognize the cloud-touching tree, until it reaches the clouds, then they say it is tall."

"Peng's wings hang in the void, laughing at the mortal world—empty, barren, and dull."

Each character was a pearl!

Chen Yong murmured, savoring the lines again and again: "Men of this age do not recognize the cloud-touching tree, until it reaches the clouds, then they say it is tall…"

His eyes sparkled with admiration: "Truly excellent verse—profound in meaning."

Chen Mu frowned, staring at the painting above: it seemed to shift slowly. He focused his spirit, and saw the sea's waves churn, the giant fish slowly transforming into the Peng bird; he stared again, and it reverted to the whale.

The painting contained the divine spectacle of the "Kun-Peng Transformation."

Such a painting!

Yu Ke gently set down his brush and placed it on the bookshelf, calm and unhurried.

Zhou Yuner carefully blew across the inked paper, afraid of smudging this rare masterpiece.

Recalling Xie Guan's earlier "Cloud Mist Probing the Dragon's Head," which had already been priceless, this new painting now possessed not only the wonder of transformation but also Xie Guan's inscribed verse—its value had soared even higher.

Chen Yong tore his gaze from the painting and turned to Xie Guan, asking curiously: "Master Xie, is this the legendary Kun-Peng?"

"What meaning does this painting hold?"

Yu Ke nodded slightly. "Prince Yong, this painting is indeed the Kun-Peng—a divine beast of legend."

"'The southward journey cannot be foreseen; transformation lies in the Kun-Peng.' Ancient texts record that the Kun-Peng feeds on dragons and phoenixes, strikes the sea for ten thousand li, and soars nine heavens upward on the wind."

Chen Yong froze, stunned: "Feeds on dragons and phoenixes? Truly… a divine creature!"

In the world, dragons were the sovereign of all beasts, beyond reach.

Even among mortals, they were metaphors for earthly emperors.

Jia Yu stared at Xie Guan's painting, his awe deepening.

Though Xie Guan's brushwork might not be flawless, the divine spirit within the painting was vividly alive, impossible to look away from.

Compared to his own tiger paintings, his work now seemed crude; Jia Yu's face flushed as he remembered his earlier challenge to Xie Guan in painting skill.

After viewing the painting, Xie Mu's lips curled into a smile: "This painting is strange and extraordinary, but four million taels? Are you joking?"

Yuan Yue, who had trailed behind Xie Mu, stepped closer to the table and glanced casually at the "Kun-Peng Painting."

After one extra look, she lost interest, pulled a handful of sunflower seeds from her sash pouch, and began eating them leisurely.

Chen Mu sneered: "A painting worth four million taels? Do you really think anyone would pay that?"

Li Xiangjun nodded in agreement; though Xie Guan's painting was indeed extraordinary, the price of four million taels was staggering.

After all, truly priceless paintings in this world usually came from masters of great renown.

She recalled the "Lu Chen's Personal Letter" unearthed from the ancient Yan tomb—because of its age and Lu Chen's legendary status, it had been auctioned to a wealthy merchant of the Great Sui for ten million taels.

A person's reputation is like a shadow—deep and enduring.

There is only one Lu Chen in the world.

And Xie Guan? Merely a boy reading quietly in a small courtyard?

Xie Guan is not Lu Chen!

Zhang Yuan was also slightly worried about what the Thirteenth Prince Chen Mu had said.

Otherwise, you'll just devalue Xie Guan's painting so no one dares to buy it, and end up a fool.

Just as Chen Yong was about to speak, a man's voice suddenly rang out.

"This painting by Master Guan is worth four million taels, right?"

"I'll take it!"

Chen Mu spun around sharply and saw, amid the banquet's bustle, a familiar figure approaching swiftly.

The man had reached adulthood; atop his head sat a purple-gold hairpin crown, a golden headband embroidered with two dragons seizing a pearl pressed just above his brows, he wore a crimson arrow-sleeve robe adorned with golden butterflies flitting among flowers, and on his feet were black satin shoes with white soles—his entire attire radiated nobility and distinction.

Yet, his face was merely pleasant, with prominent ears and enormous earlobes that lent him a touch of comic charm.

The newcomer was Su Yun!

Su Yun paid no heed to Chen Mu and Chen Yong; instead, upon seeing Yuan Yue, his face showed surprise as he asked curiously, "Third Sister Yuan, what are you doing here?"

Su Yun was long accustomed to Yuan Yue's habits—he knew she was someone who could never keep her mouth shut.

She had once ruined her teeth from eating too many pastries and rock candy, and was often teased by those around her.

Since then, she had stopped smiling with her teeth showing.

To satisfy her cravings, her parents had her switch to eating sunflower seeds, which she carried with her daily.

The Su and Yuan families were closely connected, so they naturally knew this Third Miss Yuan.

Su Yun knew well that this seemingly sweet and innocent Yuan Yue was in fact a Battalion Commander in the Demon-Slaying Bureau, having secured her position through outstanding military achievements.

She had personally slain several great demons—her strength was not to be underestimated.

And this Thirteenth Prince Chen Mu had long sought to befriend the Yuan family, so he had quietly made contact with Third Miss Yuan Yue.

Yuan Yue wore a palace gown, her appearance delicate and charming; she merely smiled faintly at Su Yun, said nothing, and continued peeling the sunflower seeds in her hand.

Seeing this, Chen Mu frowned slightly and said irritably, "Su Yun, what are you doing here?"

Chen Yong, however, wore a smile—as if he had long understood Su Yun's nature.

"Young Master Yun, you truly are a man who can't sit still."

Su Yun had not even seen Xie Guan's painting before he bought it outright.

He fixed his sharp gaze on Chen Mu: "Chen Mu, Xie Guan is a member of the Cao Tang Poetry Society—how dare you humiliate it so?"

Su Yun was the legitimate son of the Su family's Second Branch, and his grandfather was none other than Su Xiang, the Grand Secretary who held immense power in court.

Under Su Xiang's shadow, even the imperial Chen clan had to swallow their pride. Thus, Su Yun calling Chen Mu by name drew no disapproval from those present—after all, in status, Chen Mu was indeed inferior to Su Yun.

To the people of Bianjing, the imperial family and the Nine Great Clans were indistinguishable.

Today, Xie Guan had brought glory to the Cao Tang Poetry Society; Su Yun was overjoyed and had come early to the Xianxian Pavilion to find him.

He never expected to witness such a scene.

Chen Mu's face darkened instantly—he had not expected Xie Guan to have ties with Su Yun.

Su Yun was famously protective of his own; with Su Xiang as his backing, nearly every prince in Bianjing avoided him, and Chen Mu certainly had no desire to provoke him lightly.

"Su Yun, think carefully."

"How could this painting possibly be worth four million taels?"

Su Yun merely scoffed coldly: "No matter the price, I'll buy Master Guan's painting."

Zhang Yuan's face lit up at this.

He had long known of the close bond between Xie Guan and Su Yun; seeing Su Yun defend Xie Guan so firmly, his confidence grew.

Yet, just then!

A woman's voice rang out perfectly on cue.

"If Young Master Su does not want it, might I beg the favor?"

"I'll pay double."

Chen Mu recognized the voice and turned his head, his gaze landing on the path beside the banquet table.

A woman, about eighteen or nineteen, wearing a golden phoenix crown, spoke gracefully; her voice was clear and bright.

Beside her stood a man in purple fur-lined robes, smiling as he spoke:

"Linxi, don't rush ahead."

"That painting was never claimed by Brother Two—you can't steal what I've set my heart on."

Chen Mu's expression soured—the newcomers were Prince Chen Feng and Princess Linxi.

Rivals on the path to the throne for Prince Yan.

"Brother Two, could you perhaps let this painting go to your younger brother?"

A voice arrived like a spring breeze!

(End of Chapter)