Celestial Spiritual Light descended, and Aunt Wen had entered the Dao through her painting!
On this little boat, a poor, weather-beaten woman—one who seemed to have been ground down by the hardships of life—had used a piece of coarse linen, a charcoal pencil, and a pair of calloused hands to sketch a figure unlike any other in the world.
Her supreme devotion to her art led to her supremacy in the Dao.
Specks of Spiritual Light scattered in the sunshine, seeming to coat the morning sun itself in a layer of pure, cool brilliance.
The light fell upon Aunt Wen's brow, her chest, the Shanzhong point, her Dantian... A small portion also landed on her hands and the canvas beneath her pencil.
The beauty on the canvas grew ever more lifelike, a wondrous halo of light flowing around her.
Faintly, it seemed a storm was brewing, and waves were gathering in the unseen.
Meanwhile, Song Ciwan, who was standing nearby, received a continuous stream of feedback.
