Chapter 259 (1): A Million Repetitions

Chapter 259 (1): A Million Repetitions

Chen Ping'an stood in the cool and refreshing shade under the ancestor osmanthus island on the mountain summit on Osmanthus Island, and he couldn't help but think of the old locust tree from back home. However, the old locust tree no longer existed, while this tree was still thriving.

A tinge of melancholy welled up in Chen Ping'an's heart at this thought, but a faint smile then appeared on his face as he recalled the memory of Li Baoping running around with those locust branches on her shoulder. She was so adorable and energetic, and she feared nothing.

In a way, she was very similar to Fan Er, who had no worries and could live every day to the fullest. Chen Ping'an was very envious of them, and he hoped to become like them someday.

Aside from Chen Ping'an, there were also some other passengers gathered at the foot of the old osmanthus, and all of them had been drawn here by the tree's resounding reputation. Some of them were pointing at and commenting on the old tree, and there were also some women posing beside the tree while several Osmanthus Island artists drew commemorative paintings for them.

There was even a family of three that had requested one of the artists to draw a family portrait for them.

Back on the horse-drawn carriage, Fan Er had told Chen Ping'an that there was a diverse range of cultivation bases among the businessmen traveling from Old Dragon City to Stalactite Mountain for business, and they also came from all types of different backgrounds. However, one common trait among them was that they were all very cunning and calculating, and all of them had at least one or two powerful backers, so they were not to be messed with.

The Fan Clan only had a few designated storage warehouses on Osmanthus Island, while the rest were rented out to wealthy businessmen who wanted to transport their wares to Stalactite Mountain. These people had plenty of money and power, and some were even wealthier than the Fan Clan. For them, the only things that they were missing were a ship fit for intercontinental travel and a safe route.

Chen Ping'an wasn't the type who liked to start trouble for no reason anyway, so these words of caution from Fan Er were appreciated, but largely redundant.

At this moment, Chen Ping'an was standing silently under the tree. When a middle-aged artist declared that he was finished with his painting, Chen Ping'an approached him. He passed by the woman who was excitedly holding the finished painting in her hands, and as he did so, he took a glance at the painting to find that it was extremely vibrant and lifelike, far more so than the lifeless and rigid door gods that he had seen on the doors back in the small town.

The woman's hair and clothes were depicted to be gently flapping in the wind, and even in the still image, it almost looked as if the locust leaves above her was rippling in the breeze. However, Chen Ping'an noticed that the woman's true appearance was slightly different from the depiction on the painting, and it seemed that the artist had made some embellishments in that area. Chen Ping'an couldn't help but be stunned by the painter's exceptional skill.

The middle-aged artist spotted Chen Ping'an, then made a beckoning motion, and an osmanthus girl immediately approached him from behind while carrying a small platter with the four treasures of the study.

The artist then smiled as he asked, "Would you like a commemorative painting as well, Young Master? On the way to Stalactite Mountain, we will be encountering ten notable pieces of scenery, each of which are spectacular in their own way, and one of those pieces of scenery is this ancestor osmanthus tree.

“Under the shade of the ancestor osmanthus tree, our paintings will be infused with a faint fragrance, and they won't fade for at least a century. On top of that, they'll be impervious to damage from termites and the likes, so you definitely won't be disappointed."

Prior to setting off from where he was standing at the foot of the osmanthus tree, Chen Ping'an had already put away his osmanthus guest wooden badge, and he nodded with a smile as he declared, "I want three of the same paintings. How much will it be?"

The middle-aged artist was rather taken aback, and he couldn't tell if Chen Ping'an was a descendant of an affluent clan dressed in modest clothing, or was simply severely underestimating how much it cost to purchase a painting.

Normally, one would only ask for a single painting, and he had never been asked to make three at once, but having said that, he certainly wasn't going to turn money away, so he smiled as he replied, "One painting costs 10 snowflake coins, but for three, I can give you a slight discount and make it 25 snowflake coins total."

The osmanthus girl beside the artist was far inferior to Jin Su in the looks department, but even so, she was still quite pleasant on the eyes as she added in a gentle voice, "If you have a special Osmanthus Island wooden badge in your possession, then you can receive a further discount."

Chen Ping'an shook his head in response. "I'm just a normal passenger."

Chen Ping'an pulled out 25 snowflake coins, then placed it onto the platter as opposed to giving it directly to the artist, as requested by the osmanthus girl. After that, the artist told Chen Ping'an to stand at the foot of the osmanthus tree, following which he was asked to change positions a few times until the spot with the best scenery was determined.

Standing alone under the tree and under the artist's scrutiny, Chen Ping'an was clearly feeling a little nervous, and only after a few benevolent comforting words from the artist did he relax a little. His limbs weren't as stiff as before, but his expression was still a little rigid.

The artist didn't dare to issue any further instructions, and decided that he was just going to have put a bit more thought into embellishing Chen Ping'an's expression as he painted.

The osmanthus girl was struggling to contain her amusement. Osmanthus Island was filled with immortals, and such a timid and shy passenger was a very rare sight. Some of the more bold passengers had even asked the artist if they could stand atop the ancestor osmanthus tree for their painting, while others had asked if they could snap a branch from the tree to hold as they posed. Of course, such requests were denied.

The artist picked up his brush, then pulled back his sleeve a little, and a sheet of precious Xuan paper from Azure Phoenix Nation slid down from the small platter and slowly drifted through the air until it drew to a halt in front of him. Even though it was hovering in mid-air, it looked exactly as if it had been laid out flat on a table.

Instead of immediately putting brush to paper, the artist began to work up some emotions. It was said that calligraphers left a part of themselves in every stroke that they made, and the same applied to artists.

The artist had one hand clasped behind his back while he held his brush with his other hand. Meanwhile, Chen Ping'an was standing with his sword case on his back and his hands clenched into tight fists that were hanging by his side. His eyes were bright, his complexion was slightly dark, and he was wearing a pair of straw sandals.

Overall, his attire was rather crude, but it was very clean and well-maintained. Compared with the strong and imposing men of the south, Chen Ping'an was only slightly shorter, but he was also quite thin and lanky, indicating that he was yet to fill out his frame.

To the surprise of the artist, he was unable to capture the young boy's energy, essence, and spirit. It wasn't that the boy didn't have these things, it was just that no matter how the artist approached the painting, he was somehow struggling to capture Chen Ping'an's visage.

He didn't want to make himself appear unprofessional in case Chen Ping'an had second thoughts, so he could only put on a strong and confident front as he began to paint.

Out of the 25 snowflake coins, he would receive a commission of five, and that was not a small sum.

For the first painting, it could only be described as true to life on a surface level. Even a normal imperial artist from a mortal empire would be able to create a painting of this level, let alone a Qi refiner like himself, so he was very unhappy with his work, but he could only trudge onward and persevere.

After finishing the first painting, the artist took a short break, and Chen Ping'an also took this opportunity to remove the gourd from his waist and take a sip of wine. After having some wine, he began to relax, and he cast his gaze toward the north as a faint smile appeared on his face, perhaps because some happy memories had surfaced in his mind.

As he turned back to face the artist, Chen Ping'an crossed his arms and stood up straight with a radiant smile on his face.

In that instant, the artist was struck by a flash of inspiration.

Hence, the second painting was clearly more soulful than the first one, and it perfectly encapsulated the complex emotions that Chen Ping'an felt on his long journey so far away from home.

During the break between the second and third paintings, Chen Ping'an drank some more wine, following which the smile on his face faded, and he was no longer crossing his arms. Furthermore, he had hung his gourd from his belt behind him, seemingly trying to conceal it so that it wouldn't appear in the third painting.

At the same time, his disposition also appeared more mature, and it felt like no matter how far away he was from home, he was a responsible young adult who would be able to look after himself.

The artist was quite happy with his third painting as well.

The osmanthus girl inserted a pair of white jade rods into either side of each painting to convert them into scrolls, and Chen Ping'an rushed over to her before examining the three paintings. He seemed to be very pleased with them, and he raised no criticisms, so the osmanthus girl handed the paintings to him.

The artist was actually feeling rather uneasy as he knew this perhaps wasn't his best work, and he said, "I hope my paintings are satisfactory to you, Young Master."

Chen Ping'an held onto the three scrolls with both hands and replied with a bright smile, "They're great! Thank you!"

The artist was very relieved to hear this, and he smiled as he said, "If you wish to have any more paintings made, then you make an appointment with me. I'll be making more paintings as we arrive at the nine scenic landmarks over the course of the journey, and you can have a 90% discount on all of your future paintings from me. My name is Su Yuting, just mention my name to any of the osmanthus girls on the ship, and they'll be able to send you my way."

Chen Ping'an paid no heed to this and continued his fist technique practice in silence.

Prior to boarding the ship from Water Combing Nation, Chen Ping'an had performed his walking meditation very slowly. Over the course of the journey through the dragon channel and the subsequent journey on the Mutton Fat Hall ship, Chen Ping'an had already had one foot in the fourth tier.

Hence, he was able to perform his walking meditation much faster, and 300,000 repetitions were completed in what felt like the blink of an eye.

Now that he had reached the fourth tier, Chen Ping'an slowed down his walking meditation once again.

When it came to the Three Qi Tempering Tiers for pure martial artists, exceptional emphasis had to be placed on honing the soul, the spirit, and the gall.

Back in the bamboo building on Downtrodden Mountain, Cui Chan's grandfather had once told Chen Ping'an that he was the strongest third tier martial artist under the heavens

When it came to the consolidation of his fourth tier cultivation base, Chen Ping'an felt as if he were lacking in stability, unlike back at the third tier, where every step that he took was extremely solid and grounded.

Hence, Chen Ping'an couldn't help but wonder if this was because his foundation as a fourth tier martial artist still wasn't sufficiently stable.

Cui Chan's grandfather had told him that for martial artists of the fourth, fifth, and sixth tiers, ancient battlefields were the best places to explore for opportunities for further progression.

There were all types of Yin winds and astral winds, as well as different chaotic auras present on those battlefields, all of which were great for honing a martial artist's soul, spirit, and gall. Ultimately, it just came down to enduring more hardship.

In those cases, one was fighting against heaven and earth.

The second-best option was to experience large-scale battles, and the more perilous the battle was, the more one would be able to understand the concept that there were enemies at every turn.

After that came one-on-one battles against more powerful opponents, using master martial artists and Qi refiners of the Middle Five Tiers as whetstones to hone one's powers and battle instincts.

The Sword Qi Great Wall was a place that was rife with sword intent, and it inherently rejected all Qi refiners outside of swordsmen, let alone pure martial artists.

Countless martial artists had perished on the Sword Qi Great Wall, either because they didn't know their own limits, or because their Dao guardians didn't possess sufficient power to protect them. This was why Cui Chan's grandfather had mandated that Chen Ping'an had to reach the fourth tier before setting off for Stalactite Mountain.

Only then would he have the best chance of making it up to the top of the Sword Qi Great Wall and leaving alive.

As for how long Chen Ping'an had to last on the Great Wall, how he should determine the limits of his own tolerance, and how many times he should strive to scale the great wall, Cui Chan's grandfather hadn't offered him any counsel on these subjects as he felt like it was a waste of time.

Having already reached the pinnacle of the 10th tier a century ago, Cui Chan's grandfather had witnessed the scenery at the very pinnacle of Majestic World. Given everything that he had seen and experienced, many things that were deemed important by others simply didn't matter in the slightest to him.

This was why many pieces of advice that were considered to be crucial among martial artists had been completely withheld from Chen Ping'an.

For example, Cui Chan’s grandfather hadn't mentioned the golden flood dragon phenomenon that a martial artist could experience after reaching the fourth and seventh tiers, nor had he told Chen Ping'an what it entailed to be the strongest martial artist at each tier.

The less he taught Chen Ping'an, the more it reflected his lofty expectations of him.

What was the point in teaching Chen Ping'an how to do every little thing? Such a teaching style would only limit him.

In the eyes of Cui Chan's grandfather, Chen Ping'an had to pursue the legendary Martial God Tier, he had to reach such lofty heights that even a martial artist at the pinnacle of the 10th tier like himself could only look up to him in awe and veneration!

What was quite strange was that the less Cui Chan's grandfather said, the more Chen Ping'an learned.

When it came to the two golden flood dragon phenomena that had descended back at the Sun Clan's ancestral residence, Chen Ping'an had been completely oblivious on the first occasion. The only thing that he had felt at the time was that he had to throw that punch in order to release the energy that was building up in his body.

After that, he learned that he had missed out on a precious opportunity, and he went back to fish night after night. Finally, the opportunity presented itself once again, but in that instant, Chen Ping'an was struck by the irrepressible urge to lash out once again!

After that, he had forced back the golden flood dragons a second time without any hesitation.

As expected of the disciple of Cui Chan's grandfather, both of them were just as unreasonable.

Initially, Ma Zhi didn't think much as he observed Chen Ping'an's walking meditation, but after observing for a while longer, he finally noticed that something wasn't quite right.

He shook his head with a wry smile, feeling as if he had seen a ghost.

The foundation of his soul, spirit, and gall were already there, and all that was left was for those three things to be honed. This meant that he could progress from the fourth tier to the sixth tier at an extraordinary speed, and if his objective were to progress up the tiers as quickly as possible, then he would be at the sixth tier in virtually no time!

If it weren't for the fact that he had been informed that Chen Ping'an had only just reached the fourth tier, he wouldn't have been so astonished, but Zheng Dafeng had clearly told him that Chen Ping'an was indeed only at the fourth tier.

How could there possibly be such an unreasonably formidable fourth tier martial artist under the heavens?

All of a sudden, Ma Zhi could feel the bonded flying sword in his acupoint itching to come out, and he was struck by the urge to challenge Chen Ping'an to a spar.

He was a Golden Core Tier swordsman, yet at this moment, he was seriously considering challenging a fourth tier martial artist!

A sense of sorrow welled up in his heart, and he felt as if he really had become an old man.

However, the sorrow was fleeing and quickly faded. The world was extremely vast. He was nothing more than a frog stuck at the bottom of the well that was Old Dragon City, so there were countless things in this world that he had yet to witness, and Chen Ping'an was but one of them.

All of a sudden, a thought sprang into his mind, and he smiled as he asked, "Chen Ping'an, you're not aiming to become the strongest fourth tier martial artist under the heavens, are you?"

Chen Ping'an had just completed one repetition of his six-step walking meditation, and began another repetition as he replied, "I won't settle for anything less."

Ma Zhi didn't think much of this response. In his eyes, Chen Ping'an had to be from a top-tier cultivating sect on Eastern Treasured Vial Continent, and he certainly wasn't the first young prodigy to have set such lofty aspirations for himself. While this declaration sounded a little arrogant, Ma Zhi didn't find it to be conceited.

Unbeknownst to him, just this simple six-step walking meditation was something that Chen Ping'an had already performed hundreds of thousands of times.