Seventy-Ninth Painting: The Space-Time of All Laws

Sometimes a score of ten outweighs a hundred. Post a poll on the StarNet and ask whether people would rather have supreme aptitude or innate origin.

"Is that even a question? Of course I want innate—wait, without aptitude, origin at most gets me to the Profound Level; with aptitude, I can climb much higher." The speaker paused, baffled. "I truly don’t understand how someone from a low-tier civilization could possess such extraordinary aptitude. Isn’t that place a wasteland of laws, where even after upgrading, the shadow of law remains elusive?"

"Precisely because a flower blooms in the desert, it’s all the more beautiful. The hype on StarNet was an adult’s mistake; the blame shouldn’t fall on the child. Haven’t you noticed how those media figures forcefully switch topics, avoiding any mention of Sang Hongye?"

Indeed, those analysts who once predicted Sang Hongye’s failure and fervently tried to tarnish her name now praise Shui Ling’s origin and Baishu’s mastery of the five realms of life. The giant octopus, openly a contract believer, suddenly revived, extolling her as though Sang Sang possessed not merely the four realms of time and space, but had already condensed the origin of time and space. It seemed that only such exaggeration could manifest the greatness and prospects of their faith.

The octopus’s excessive praise was irksome, yet Sang Sang was still a juvenile; her achievements truly deserved celebration. And her next accomplishments would warrant even more.

“Friends, the preliminary scores are in! There are seven contestants with perfect marks. Shui Ling leads, her total—perfect base and a hundred law points—is double the runner-up’s. Baishu is second; though the pinnacle of life’s five realms is remarkable, the gap from origin is vast. Third to seventh are all seeded contestants. Bronwen, previously underestimated, secured fifth place. Pressure, it seems, spurs progress.”

“Sang Hongye, the favorite, failed to break into the top ten. Six points short, she falls beyond the hundred mark. But her aptitude fuses even time and space—top-ranked contestants shouldn’t relax. Sang Hongye has entered the Tomb of the Gods; though she gained no inheritance, she received three opportunities for enlightenment. With her aptitude and balanced attributes, she must have supplementary laws aplenty. The comeback of Sang Hongye from the Galactic Civilization will be a highlight of this test.”

These comments came from media of intermediate civilizations. Having faced discrimination from advanced ones, they naturally sympathized with Sang Hongye, almost declaring a low-tier civilization’s rise over high-tier.

The spell test had no opponents. Contestants performed freely. Princess Shui Ling, with her water origin, commanded all waters; her chamber became an ocean. The law of wind stirred waves, the law of light evaporated the sea, and the ever-shifting laws of mist and cloud appeared, turning to the law of rain. These auxiliary laws were clever, since mist, cloud, rain, snow, frost, and ice are inherently water attributes.

Baishu’s law of life encompassed even more: animals and plants, sentient beings, souls—all living and dying things, even planets. Broadly speaking, even the universe is life; in the future, the law of life may include destiny. Of course, the five realms of life could only do so much—perhaps coax a tree from seed to blossom, fruit, and death.

Contestants displayed dazzling feats, each more impressive than the last. But how did Sang Sang present herself?

She painted—a “world painting” common in advanced civilizations. The laws of the five elements and condensation formed a vessel; the law of space opened a domain. Within it, a small devouring black hole expanded, absorbing countless energies, then contracted and vanished, leaving behind a land forged of myriad matter and energy.

On the flat earth, some spots rose, others sank. Elemental laws rained down, energy flows beneath condensed into veins of ore, the highest peak birthed a volcano, depressions filled with water, vapor gathered into clouds and mist, thunder roiled within, rain poured down, nourishing the dry soil.

The shower quickly ceased; streams merged into rivers. Sang Sang scattered a bag of seeds prepared by Boya. Sunlight bathed the land, water and wood nurtured the seeds, life burst forth—ugly terrain transformed, covered in flowers, grass, and trees.

On the scoreboard, Sang Hongye’s points climbed without pause, her ranking leaping from over a hundred into the top ten, and still rising—fifth, third, second, then inevitably overtaking Shui Ling, dominating hundreds below her. Her score, already in the thousands, was unshakable.

Everyone was stunned.

Those who had praised Shui Ling’s origin fell silent; those who cheered for Baishu’s life law faded away. Spectators, disregarding decorum, wiped their eyes and unleashed observation techniques, staring at Sang Hongye’s chamber as if searching for evidence of cheating.

Sena smiled, calculating how much he’d earn this time, lamenting the short window—too few willing to bet. After this, finding foolish, wealthy challengers would be difficult.

Boya stroked his chin, glancing at Aslan, whose face was shaded by his armor helmet. “Alan, perhaps your intuition was right. Some applications of law I never taught her, yet she grasps them by analogy.”

The members of Junshi were especially proud—this was the emperor’s adopted sister, their princess, representing the Galactic Civilization, steadily suppressing the geniuses of advanced civilizations. Next time someone called them galactic natives, they’d use this to shut them up—anyone inferior to a native was truly disgraceful.

Little Dragon Lord and Green Sprout were the most exuberant: one whipped his tail, summoning rain to form water dragons spelling out “Sang Sang Number One”; the other’s hair shot skyward, vines weaving “Sang Sang is Best.”

Even those confident in Sang Sang were thrilled; the dumbfounded audience was like a hive of exploding hornets.

“Seven hundred types!”

“How many laws has Sang Hongye mastered as supplements?!”

“To learn so many, even eating non-stop would take decades, maybe centuries!”

“The Tomb of the Gods! It must be the inheritance from there—a cheat! Entering the tomb during the competition should be disqualified!”

“Idiot! If entering the tomb is cheating, is eating candy cheating too? Enlightenment is dead; only after comprehension do laws come alive. The question is, even with supreme aptitude, learning so many laws isn’t possible in such a short time. How long did she spend in the tomb? Why isn’t she afraid of residual thoughts corrupting her mind?”

“The last time the tomb opened, three treasures capable of suppressing residual thoughts appeared. One inheritance involved the Prime Demon Sage, whose laws are famed for their vastness and variety—over three thousand, they say. The Prime Demon Sacred Heart can filter and suppress residual thoughts. Could Sang Hongye have received the Prime Demon Sage’s inheritance?”

“That must be it—time-space myriad laws, myriad laws of time and space. She chose not a single path, but the supreme path of all laws! Where did she get the confidence, the courage? Is it ignorance breeds fearlessness, or knowledge compels her to challenge?”

“Terrifying. Children today are truly terrifying.”

PS: Please subscribe to the official version for support. Sisters, don’t just read—remember to vote! Next update at eight in the morning. (To be continued.)