Emperor of the Mysterious Heavens

Chapter 9: Napping the energy of dragon veins

"Who are you?" Yan Chuan asked, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized the man before him.

The robed man smiled faintly. "I am Jiu Jiansheng, a second-generation disciple of the Great River Sect. Years ago, your father taught me the way of the sword. You were still very young back then, so I doubt you remember me."

Yan Chuan nodded thoughtfully. "My memories of that time are hazy at best. Jiu Jiansheng, you're the one responsible for their protection?"

Jiu Jiansheng glanced at the unconscious disciples sprawled on the ground and sighed. "Yes. These young ones have learned a few skills and now think they can take on the world. Fortunately, they ran into you. If it had been someone else, they'd already be dead." He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

The fallen disciples flushed with embarrassment, their earlier bravado now a distant memory.

"Since that's the case, take them and leave," Yan Chuan said bluntly.

Jiu Jiansheng hesitated, then looked over at the incense burner beside Yan Chuan. "If I'm not mistaken, that's Drunken Yuan Fruit burning in your censer, right? They won't be able to recover on their own."

"Liu Jin," Yan Chuan turned to his servant, "pluck eighteen leaves from the Drunken Yuan vine for them."

"Yes, my lord!" Liu Jin quickly complied, carefully selecting eighteen leaves and handing them over to Jiu Jiansheng.

"Thank you. Without these, I would've had to waste more effort." Jiu Jiansheng smiled gratefully before slipping a leaf into the mouth of one of his disciples. Moments later, the young man stirred, the poison neutralized.

"Here, give one to each of them. Chew it thoroughly and swallow," Jiu Jiansheng instructed the revived disciple, handing him the rest of the leaves.

Within minutes, all eighteen disciples were back on their feet.

"Thank you, Uncle!" they said in unison, bowing respectfully to Jiu Jiansheng.

However, as they turned to Yan Chuan, their expressions grew more complicated. Among them, Feng Shao glared at Yan Chuan with barely concealed hatred, while Jiangnan's face was clouded with frustration and humiliation.

"Well then, we'll take our leave for now. Until we meet again, at the Great River Sect," Jiu Jiansheng said, his tone light.

Yan Chuan nodded. "Safe travels."

As they turned to leave, Feng Shao couldn't resist throwing one last threat over his shoulder. "Yan Chuan, you better watch your back. I'll get my revenge!"

"Smack!" Jiu Jiansheng's palm landed hard on Feng Shao's head.

"Revenge? You fool, if he wanted you dead, you'd be dead already. Besides, he's your elder now! You think your grandfather won't break your legs if you try something stupid?" Jiu Jiansheng scolded.

Feng Shao was left speechless.

Soon, Jiu Jiansheng and his group disappeared from sight.

As they traveled, Jiangnan couldn't help but ask, "Uncle, what level is Yan Chuan at now? Is he really still only at the third level of Strength Stage?"

Jiu Jiansheng frowned. "Yes, he's still at the third level of Strength Stage, but he's far more capable than you lot."

"Strength Stage... just the third level?" The group shared a collective shudder, their earlier confrontation flashing before their eyes. Could it really be true?

Feng Shao gritted his teeth in frustration. "I can't accept this!"

"You can't accept it? You brought this on yourself. Don't think that just because you've reached a higher cultivation level, you're invincible. Did you even see his methods? If he wanted to kill you, it would've been child's play." Jiu Jiansheng's voice was sharp.

"But—" Feng Shao began, still unwilling to yield.

"Use your brain for once! I've been following you in secret, observing your performance on this mission. What did I see? A bunch of reckless idiots. Yan Chuan was right; you're nothing but greenhorns." Jiu Jiansheng didn't mince words.

The disciples fell silent, their faces red with shame.

"Where to now?" Jiangnan asked quietly.

"Where else? As far as I'm concerned, you're all dead already. Head back to the sect and reflect on your mistakes. You've got a long way to go!" Jiu Jiansheng snapped.

None of them dared say another word.

High above, a young woman riding a celestial crane watched the group depart. She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Jiu Jiansheng... I've heard of him. A genius of the Great River Sect's second generation."

Meanwhile, below, Yan Chuan watched them leave before returning to his sedan.

"Let's move out!" Liu Jin commanded, and the army began marching toward Dragon Vein Mountain.

The soldiers were buzzing with energy, as if they had been injected with newfound strength.

"Hmm? They're headed toward the same mountain pass? What's that boy up to?" the young woman muttered, intrigued.

The crane let out a curious call, mirroring her thoughts.

"Could it be... he understands Feng Shui? Does he know this is a dragon vein? Impossible! He's just a boy," she scoffed, shaking her head.

Yet her curiosity got the better of her, and she urged her crane to follow at a distance.

Yan Chuan's army arrived at the small lake where the young woman had bathed earlier. Two thousand soldiers set up camp around the base of the mountain, while Yan Chuan's sedan was carried to the lake's edge. Huo Guang, Liu Jin, and several soldiers carrying paper, ink, and brushes followed closely behind.

Yan Chuan stepped out of his sedan and surveyed the lake.

"Little Crane, what do you think that boy is searching for?" the young woman murmured.

The crane shook its head, just as puzzled.

After a brief moment, Yan Chuan's gaze settled on the northern edge of the lake. His eyes lit up. "The dragon's mouth, spitting out the pearl. This is the spot!"

"Fortify this area, lay down stone blocks, and set up a writing desk!" Yan Chuan ordered.

"Yes, my lord!" Huo Guang immediately began directing the soldiers. They chopped down trees, drove wooden stakes into the ground, and laid flat stones over the cleared area. Finally, they set up the writing desk.

From her vantage point, the young woman was thoroughly confused. "What... is he doing? Is he here to write?"

As Yan Chuan prepared, he called out, "Liu Jin, bring the silk cloth woven from the celestial flag."

Liu Jin hurried over with a three-foot-long white silk cloth, which he placed carefully on the desk and secured with paperweights.

"Grind the ink," Yan Chuan commanded.

Liu Jin obediently ground the inkstone while Yan Chuan selected a violet jade brush. He stood silently for a moment, contemplating the cloth before him.

The soldiers looked on with curiosity, while in the sky, the young woman watched with wide eyes. "Is he really going to... write?"

With a smooth, deliberate motion, Yan Chuan made the first stroke.

A sudden gust of wind swept across the lake, causing ripples to spread across its surface.

"Did I... imagine that?" The young woman rubbed her eyes in disbelief.

But the wind only grew stronger, and soon, a thick fog began rising from the lake, coalescing into a small cloud.

"Pen strokes that summon wind and rain? How... how is this possible?" The young woman's voice trembled with awe.

Only master scholars or legendary calligraphers were said to have such power, and yet this boy—barely seventeen—had summoned the elements with a mere stroke of his brush.

Below, the soldiers stared at the sudden change in weather, thinking the heavens themselves had shifted. Only Huo Guang and Liu Jin remained calm, their eyes shining with recognition. They knew this was no coincidence—it was Yan Chuan's doing.

Yan Chuan continued to paint, his hand steady, as Liu Jin watched in awe. The image on the silk cloth was simple: a small bamboo hut surrounded by an open yard. Yet the energy radiating from the ink strokes made the scene feel alive, as though one could step into the painting itself.

Above, the storm intensified, and a massive whirlpool formed in the center of the lake.

The soldiers were dumbfounded, but Yan Chuan pressed on, beads of sweat forming on his brow as he sketched stroke after stroke.

Suddenly, with a sharp crack, the violet jade brush splintered into dust.

Without pausing, Yan Chuan grabbed another brush and continued.

Thunder echoed across the lake, and the girl in the sky was speechless.

"His brushwork... it's on par with Master Wenruo's!" she whispered in disbelief.

The celestial crane beneath her let out an anxious cry.

"What is it, Little Crane?" she asked, concerned.

The crane chirped rapidly, nodding its head toward the ground.

"You can feel the dragon vein's energy shifting?" she asked, astonished.

The crane nodded again.

"Dragon vein energy... Is he trying to harness the power of the land itself?" she murmured, her expression growing serious.

Below, Yan Chuan's painting was nearly complete. He made

As Yan Chuan finished the last stroke with his second brush, he was drenched in sweat, his face pale from the exertion. However, the painting was finally complete.

The scroll emitted a faint golden glow, which soon faded and absorbed into the artwork. At this moment, the bamboo house depicted in the painting seemed even more lifelike, with vibrant green hues replacing the previous black-and-white tones. The grass on the ground appeared almost indistinguishable from reality.

"Congratulations, my lord!" Liu Jin, Huo Guang, and the other soldiers immediately offered their enthusiastic congratulations.

"Do you know how to mount a painting?" Yan Chuan asked.

"Yes, this old servant knows... I can do it!" Liu Jin stammered, clearly flustered.

"Mount this painting," Yan Chuan commanded.

"Yes!" Liu Jin carefully approached the painting, his hands trembling slightly as he touched it.

Yan Chuan stepped aside and entered a sedan chair, taking a moment to meditate. The painting had pushed his physical limits to the extreme.

High above, a young woman observed him thoughtfully, her chin resting in her hand.

By the time Yan Chuan emerged from the sedan chair, feeling refreshed, Liu Jin had already mounted the painting. He respectfully handed over a scroll.

Yan Chuan accepted it and gently unrolled the painting, revealing the bamboo house he had depicted earlier.

Liu Jin, Huo Guang, and the other soldiers watched with curiosity, their eyes filled with admiration.

"My lord, what is the purpose of this painting?" Liu Jin asked curiously.

Yan Chuan smiled faintly. "You and Huo Guang, hold it up."

"Yes!" The two men immediately grabbed each end of the scroll and held it in midair.

Yan Chuan reached for a desk and lightly tapped the painting with it.

"Hummm!"

A ripple appeared on the painting's surface, and the desk mysteriously vanished.

The soldiers' expressions shifted in surprise. Where had the desk gone?

"Look! The desk! It's inside the painting!" Liu Jin shouted in astonishment.

Indeed, in the painting's courtyard, the desk had been absorbed into the scene, blending seamlessly with the depicted surroundings. Liu Jin and Huo Guang were both dumbfounded.

"This painting has absorbed the energy of the dragon's pulse, creating a small space within it that can store inanimate objects. Unfortunately, there's not much dragon energy, so the quality of the painting is low, and the space is only about three zhang (around 10 meters) in size. Moreover, after a hundred years, the dragon energy will dissipate, and the painting will lose its effect," Yan Chuan explained, shaking his head.

"A space...?" Liu Jin muttered in disbelief.

"My lord, the desk is inside now, but how do we retrieve it?" Huo Guang asked, equally bewildered.

"Just reach in and take it," Yan Chuan replied with a smile.

As he spoke, he extended his hand, and ripples appeared on the painting once again. His arm reached into the scroll, and a moment later, he pulled the desk back out.

"This... this..." The soldiers were utterly speechless.

"Our lord is truly a divine figure!" they exclaimed, bowing in reverence.

"Hahaha, focus on your cultivation. One day, you may achieve something similar!" Yan Chuan laughed.

"Yes, my lord!" the soldiers responded respectfully.

"Liu Jin, although this painting contains a spatial pocket, it must be kept away from fire. From now on, you will be responsible for safeguarding it," Yan Chuan instructed.

"Understood! I will take utmost care of it!" Liu Jin said excitedly.

Above them, the young woman continued to observe.

"A spatial artifact? A mere third-stage strength cultivator managed to craft a spatial artifact? You must be joking," she chuckled softly.

"Caw!" Her celestial crane nodded in agreement, as if sharing her disbelief.

"Spatial artifacts are exceedingly rare, and for someone like him to craft one is even rarer. His mastery of painting, knowledge of Feng Shui, and connection to a dragon's pulse... Few can achieve such feats. Although the space is small, it's still quite remarkable. It seems that Mister Wenruo has found himself a worthy rival," she mused, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

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