Seventy-Fifth Painting: Redrawing “Early Lotus” [Additional Update for the Jade of He Clan]

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As those who had traveled vast distances from the Galactic Civilization began to settle into their new lives, they experienced both joy and anger. Yet, overall, the future was filled with hope, as the veil of a mysterious advanced civilization was slowly lifted amid their busy studies.

The logistics team for the candidate saintess, Sang Hongye, was now in place. This news flashed briefly across the official election site on the StarNet, appearing in the contestants’ activity feed before vanishing, seemingly unnoticed and unremarked by anyone. The fever that had swept across the StarNet recently seemed like nothing more than a dream, and when it ended, no trace was left behind.

The prank attribute of "Early Lotus" had reached its forty-day limit; the once ubiquitous sight of expectant mothers was gradually fading. The soul-revived tree people who had joyfully returned home to protect their pregnancies had come back to school, resuming classes. From their mood, it seemed the children had not become corporeal beings, but had instead dispersed into internal energy, nourishing their bodies.

Perhaps the uproar on the StarNet had served as a warning for all those affected; the forty-day limit passed quietly. Even those prone to melancholy who cried in sorrow did not vent their anger at Sang Sang online. The crisis management plan prepared by Sena was set aside.

Sang Sang’s life remained focused on study: soul magic, the use of faith power, law symbols, drawing, and reading. The only difference was the steep rise in the quality of her meals and the fact that her rest time was now spent mediating between unruly children and pet conflicts, as well as keeping track daily of the Heavenly Emperor’s progress in condensing his star core.

Of course, the greatest change appeared when she began to redraw the creative medium.

At the site for remaking the creative medium, the Void Plaza was once again opened to the public. The cheating incident, widely spread due to Sang Hongye’s manipulation, combined with the rare opportunity to witness the creation of a faith medium firsthand, meant tickets were in short supply. The audience was even more lively than during the previous physical technique test, though their average strength had dropped by a level or two, with mostly young people, especially upper-year students, attending.

As one of the top three in physical technique, Sang Sang’s room number two was the main focus of roaming cameras. The audience was surprised to see that Sang Hongye, recently famous across the StarNet for her modest, silent diligence, had abandoned her school uniform for a completely new look.

Her attire resembled the traditional dress of the ancient Immortal Clan, blazing red like fire, with golden thread tracing symbols along the collar, sleeves, and hem. While such clothing could appear garish on some, Sang Hongye was still very young, her features clear and lovely, and the vibrant color only made her seem more adorable.

“Why isn’t Sang Hongye wearing her school uniform?”

“I remember the official announcement said her logistics team finally arrived from the Galactic Civilization. Supposedly, she’s a princess of an empire that occupies half the territory of their civilization.”

“Heh. An imperial princess with only half a minor star system’s territory.”

“I use her recorded videos every day for prenatal education for my child, so I’ve gotten used to her in a school uniform. Seeing her dressed up now feels strange.”

“I think it looks great, especially those twin buns tied with golden ribbons. I wonder how much you’d need to tip to touch them for real.”

“Forget the outfit; the important thing is how she fits the human standard of beauty. That little face, so serious—she’s adorable. I’d love to poke her chubby cheeks.”

“Don’t bother. The saintess isn’t some idol you can book for money.”

Sang Sang stood in room number two, and with a gentle wave of her hand, a long table appeared before her. Though painting required many tools, she chose only the essentials: brush, ink, paper, and inkstone, not counting the brush rack with its full set of brushes. She dripped liquid life energy onto the inkstone and, with her sleeve gracefully gathered, began to grind the ink.

Jun Shi had sent several design options. Not wanting to diminish Sang Sang’s aura, each demanded dozens of young boys and girls to carry the full set of painting tools, with others scattering flowers, playing music, and dancing ahead. Sang Sang was supposed to walk with flowers blooming beneath her steps, inspired by a two-hundred-year-old scholar’s reinterpretation of an ancient goddess’s procession from the history of old Huaxia civilization.

Sang Sang recalled the scene of the Hundred Flowers Saintess walking with flowers blooming beneath her feet and felt indifferent to flying petals. Redrawing the creative faith illustration was not a formal event, so she cut the design down to just her outfit. The red was a strong request from Jun Shi, who said even the brightest color wouldn’t overshadow Sang Sang herself. Indeed, she was stunning and captivating in this attire.

Over a month’s practice had brought Sang Sang’s painting skill to new heights, and her command of the laws had become ever more refined.

Boya preferred to complete the world illustration before adding the laws, but Sang Sang liked to blend the laws directly into the ink as she painted, replacing the use of mental force with the laws.

Through countless sessions, Sang Sang’s abilities had become more attuned to the laws. When activating her innate power, she could now control it without drawing on mental force or internal energy, affecting only the law stars. Moreover, she no longer needed to plan the law combinations in advance: as long as she envisioned the desired effect, her talent would automatically select the best match from her law stars, simplifying and refining them.

Sang Sang knew she was on the right track. The runes indeed contributed to the evolution of her talents. She believed that one day—perhaps not far off—her innate power would not only refine but even evolve to perfect the laws.

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Once again, it was "Early Lotus": just a few leaves, a solitary flower. Yet in Sang Sang’s hands, the painting evoked the grandeur of endless connected lotus leaves and sunlit blossoms of extraordinary red. Even with the naked eye, one could see the ink flowing in the picture: the early lotus bud transforming from bloom to decay, with only the seed pod left swaying in the wind. The stem withered, the pod fell into the water, spirit seeds hidden within, sprouting roots, until another early lotus appeared in the water.

And so on, endlessly repeating.

The old and new versions of "Early Lotus" were displayed side by side. Anyone could see that the new array was more harmonious, the laws more exquisite, and the confusion effect much stronger. If this painting had been shown originally, the anomaly would not have been discovered so soon. Of course, had the discovery come later, the resulting impact might have been even more sensational.

After finishing "Early Lotus," both the new and old works automatically appeared on the auction page, with a default starting price of one. If the artist didn’t wish to sell, they could mark it as not for sale, so it would only be displayed and not open for bidding.

Still, even those from privileged backgrounds who never lacked funds would choose to list their works for auction. It was tradition, and also a way to measure their value in the eyes of others.

For the audience, bidding was an investment. Beyond the work’s intrinsic worth, there was also the added value from the creator. Insight and boldness were both essential. If the candidate they supported soared to success, the pieces bought now would naturally appreciate, especially since these proud young candidates might never again create similar works. Thus, the simultaneous auction of two similar pieces made them even more valuable for investment and collection—and even the prank element became a factor in raising the price.

Sang Sang was among the faster group. When room number two vanished, eighty percent of participants were still creating their faith mediums. Tomorrow was the soul magic test. She didn’t linger at the site, but returned directly via a temporary portal backstage to Teacher Yaslan’s classroom, to listen to the key points for the soul test. The auction would be handled by others—a benefit of having her logistics team in place. All miscellaneous matters were taken care of; all Sang Sang needed to do was study, study, and study.

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PS: Sisters, please support the official version. Don’t forget to vote after reading~~ There will be another update at 8:10 tonight. (To be continued.)