The Second Painting: Greetings, “Narcissus”

Narcissus Scroll appeared to be a simple, comforting painting that drew people in, soothing tempers and cleansing thought power. Yet, for those with distracting thoughts, while it still purified the mind, it caused one's thoughts to linger unconsciously in certain parts of the body, resulting in rashes on the face. Unless the connection with the painting was severed in time, the rashes would grow larger, turning into pustules. These pustules were harmless and caused no pain or itching, but their appearance was as unsightly as a toad’s warty skin.

“No matter how potent the effect, it can’t influence anyone more than two levels above me. That’s just right,” Sang Sang said, handing the painting to Black Butterfly to hang on the door outside. She explained to Little Gold, “If it works, we’ll gain a few invisible followers—who knows when that might come in handy. If it doesn’t, it simply gives the impression that I’m weak, letting me wander outside without being disturbed.”

Little Gold was tasked with observing if the painting took effect, while Sang Sang continued to immerse herself in the wondrous laws she was studying.

Little Gold perched on the window sill, watching the “monsters” outside.

When Narcissus Scroll was hung out, the “monsters” laughed among themselves. Just as they thought—an unsophisticated native from the Wild Star Domain, unfamiliar with the ways of the world, daring to hang a faith medium in a temple to attract followers. Here, every person was “battle-hardened”; nothing but the very best would catch their eye, let alone this crude, unfinished work.

Still, it was a rare opportunity to gauge Sang Hongye’s strength, so they tested her all the same.

Some of the monsters’ expressions changed: Was it possible she had done this deliberately, aware of their curiosity, forcing them to offer their faith willingly? But then they reassured themselves—she was just a seven-ranked Celestial from the Wild Star Domain. She couldn’t possibly influence them; without a binding contract, there was no need to offer faith.

Starlight and thought power circled the Narcissus Scroll several times, and eventually, one by one, they probed into the painting. Those who felt their thoughts purified arched their brows with a smile and generously offered their faith. Those who felt their star power unaffected thought their suspicions justified—until they noticed some of the “monsters” developing red spots on their faces, which swelled into pustules...

Little Gold watched the commotion outside, his golden eyes twinkling with delight. “That’s what you get for looking down on us, for being careless... If only Sang Sang had used a Dark Scroll instead of a mere prank painting.”

The long night seemed to vanish in a blink. Sang Sang withdrew her consciousness from the intricate web of laws, closed her eyes for several seconds, and conjured a spherical space in her right palm, expanding and contracting ceaselessly.

“The fluctuations are too balanced—too perfect, in fact, which is a flaw. In a normal space, there are always other laws interwoven... Still, creating a safe space like this for living wouldn’t be bad.”

“No wonder this place is from a high-level civilization. Even the laws contained in this dormitory have deepened my understanding of space. The Heavenly Emperor would love it here. Refining and stabilizing space is so easy—next time, I’ll try applying it to a painting...”

“Senna has reached the Sprout Zone. You have ten minutes left,” Little Gold announced, flopping his entire body onto Sang Sang’s head and tugging at her hair. “Black Butterfly has already made breakfast. The dessert contains the Wood Law and will dissipate if left for more than half an hour.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” Sang Sang casually crushed the spherical space, letting it fade away.

“Sang Sang, Narcissus Scroll doesn’t affect star-ranked or higher beings. Your thought power can infiltrate their minds, but it cannot penetrate their star cores, so you can’t control or even sway their star power.”

At the dining table, Little Gold sat in a chair made of energy blocks, analyzing prospects with Sang Sang, who calmly swallowed her green jelly dessert.

“I expected as much. There’s no time now, but I’ll study star cores later. Once I’ve experienced star power fluctuations a few more times, I’ll improve.”

Neither took the matter too seriously and soon turned to another topic. Little Gold spoke in a low voice: “In the candidate rankings, you’re one-hundredth from the bottom. The main issue is that the Milky Way is too far away. You have no base of followers. Even with bonus points for your mastery of time and space laws, your rank is still low. The selection has been moved up, which puts you at a disadvantage. Grandfather Anthony has given your recommendation spot to someone else. Your chances of passing the preliminary in ten months are less than one percent.”

Sang Sang was unbothered. “Grandfather Anthony may not have given me the recommendation, but he did let me study for free. Increased strength is always my own. No matter what, I’ll do my best. There’s still a one percent chance!”

Little Gold hated those who broke their word, and after a short pause, continued: “Fine. Last night I browsed the temple’s intranet and found some information about Senna. He was once a subordinate priest under Bishop Qi Ning, the temple’s most powerful leader. Due to negligence that cost the Chief Holy Son dearly, he was nearly stripped of his position, but Bishop Anthony protected him.”

Sang Sang frowned. “What kind of negligence?”

“It’s been redacted. I’ll tell you once I find out more.” Suddenly, Little Gold jumped up. “He’s at the door.”

Senna had a gentle demeanor, refined bearing, and his eyes betrayed no sign of gloom from being reduced to a child’s caretaker. At that moment, he was holding the Narcissus Scroll, his expression a mix of amusement and exasperation.

He’d ignored messages claiming the candidate he was responsible for had played a prank that caused some low-ranking errand boys to break out in pustules. But seeing this painting, he had to believe it. A healing painting with such side effects—no matter how precocious she was, she was still a child.

Sang Sang opened the door herself. “Lord Senna, please come in and have a seat. Black Butterfly has brewed tea from my homeland—you should try it.”

“Thank you.” Senna was a bit wary of Sang Sang’s warmth. He held the painting before her. “This is your work, isn’t it?”

Sang Sang bowed her head, as if embarrassed. “Just a playful creation. Please don’t laugh.”

“The ink work on flat paper has a lingering charm—it’s very distinctive,” Senna praised, then grew stern. “Infiltrating others’ minds and influencing their thought waves may indeed have a purifying effect, but it’s not acceptable. Pranks are even less so. Didn’t your previous guardians warn you never to act rashly or attempt to attract followers in an unfamiliar environment?”

“My parents died when I was very young,” Sang Sang replied softly.

Senna was taken aback, then his tone softened. “I’m sorry. I forgot you’re still a child. What I mean is, don’t test others’ strength yourself unless you’re sure of the outcome. The painting you hung yesterday exposed your weaknesses. Your competitors have already analyzed your strength and even your personality flaws from it. As of now, you’ve dropped to tenth from the bottom in the rankings.”

Sang Sang exclaimed, “There are people weaker than me?”

Senna was momentarily speechless, then said, “Out of nearly a thousand candidates, the oldest behind you is only fifteen—still drinking milk and here just to experience the atmosphere. Is tenth from the bottom something to be proud of? If you hadn’t been given leniency due to your age and Bishop Anthony’s influence, any star core-consolidated candidate could have used the painting’s intent against you, potentially disrupting your thought core for a year, until the next selection.”

Sang Sang lowered her head in reflection, her mouth twitching slightly. She thought to herself that it was precisely because she knew Anthony’s status as one of the temple’s three giants, and everyone’s respect for him, that she dared to hang the Narcissus Scroll.

Seeing she acknowledged her mistake, Senna worried that too much criticism would make her rebellious and let the matter rest. He sipped his tea. “Unique flavor—very nice. The dormitory is decorated in your homeland’s style, isn’t it? Small, exquisite, warm, and full of exotic charm.” He glanced around, then took another sip, speaking earnestly. “Your Highness Sang, while your age is considered that of a child in temple time, my teacher instructed me to treat you as an adult. Low-level civilizations measure age by planetary cycles—eighteen is adulthood. You’re twenty-one, not a child, so I’ll speak plainly.”

“Please do,” Sang Sang replied, stroking Little Gold’s forehead to stop him from interjecting. Whether low-level or secondary civilization, adulthood at eighteen or thirty made little difference to the people here.

“Do you want to become a Saintess?” Senna asked seriously, his expression solemn.

“I do,” Sang Sang answered without hesitation.

“And are you willing to devote all your time—forsaking games, play, and rest—for that goal?” Senna pressed.

“I am,” Sang Sang nodded again.

Senna smiled. “Very good. Then from now on, your next year will be under my guidance.”

Sang Sang exchanged a look with Little Gold and nodded. “Alright. Tell me what to do.”

“Compared to the other candidates, your body is nearly at its developmental peak, which is a major disadvantage. Unless you can endure gene solution refinement at over fifteen times the normal concentration to revert your body to its early developmental stage. But don’t worry—your mature mind, strong willpower, and exceptional mental control are all advantages. With effort, catching up is not a fantasy.” Senna handed her a simulated book. “This is a compilation of all the skills you’ll need to master within a year.”

Sang Sang accepted it, growing dizzy at the sight of the densely packed table of contents. She blinked, then steadied herself and began to read carefully.

“There are four main categories, nineteen subcategories, and seven hundred fifty-three items in total. Of these, one hundred seventy-nine are mandatory. On average, you’ll need to master one skill every two or three days.”

Senna fixed his gaze on Sang Sang, his voice carrying a powerful sense of pressure.