Chapter 94 — One Stroke Dots the Dragon's Eye
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 1 of 4
The moment these words were spoken, the villagers all gasped in admiration. The Village Head nodded and said with a smile, "The Deaf Elder is remarkable indeed. This is a contest in the grandest of tastes.
A single touch of spiritual insight bestows a soul, seizing the creative power of heaven and earth — it is no more than this.
"
Shen Mu stepped forward and bowed to the Deaf Elder, offering the salute of a disciple. The Deaf Elder's expression shifted slightly. He hurriedly dodged aside and said, "You and I are in a contest; the seniority of master and disciple does not apply.
Right now we are both students, so use the salute of equals.
Only after the contest is done am I your teacher.
"
Shen Mu knew his ways were somewhat eccentric, so he at once offered the salute of equals, and the Deaf Elder returned it in kind. Each of them took up a brush and stood before a painting, each gazing at the painting before him. To transform magic power into a divine art and bring the dragon in a painting to life was already a rare and admirable feat.
But to lack sufficient cultivation in magic power, and yet to dot the dragon's eye with artistic conception, to endow the painted dragon with a soul — that touched upon the creative power of heaven and earth. Shen Mu had once studied calligraphy and painting under the Deaf Elder, reading and writing. Though the Deaf Elder had taught him much, and he had painted a great many paintings, and his skill with the brush was already considerable, to dot the dragon's eye and give life to a painting was still a first for him.
A single touch of spiritual insight to bestow a soul upon the figures and things in a painting — the Deaf Elder had indeed taught him this, but Shen Mu had never once succeeded in the attempt. This round was far more difficult than the rounds before.
Shen Mu fixed his gaze on the dragon in the painting before him.
The dragon was painted so true to life that as his eyes rested on it he felt the painted dragon slowly swimming, its posture shifting without cease. The Deaf Elder's skill was truly extraordinary; before the eye was even dotted, the dragon in the painting seemed ready to rend the sky and fly away!
Shen Mu raised his brush, yet for a long while did not set it down.
The dragon was right before him — but how was he to dot its eye?
He found that no matter where he placed the dot, he could not bring the dragon to life; wherever he placed it, it was wrong.
Grandmother Zhu could not hold back.
Lowering her voice, she said, "Shen'er, tear up the Deaf Elder's painting and you win! "
The Deaf Elder gave her a pair of sidelong glares.
"A crooked, heretical trick.
I have taught Shen'er to read the books of the sages; Shen'er keeps the sages in his heart, and would never stoop to such devilish behavior as yours. "
Grandmother Zhu was furious.
The Village Head said with a smile, "Granny, do not interfere with Shen'er's contest.
This trial of the Deaf Elder's is most ingenious. "
Grandmother Zhu had no choice but to restrain herself. In Shen Mu's eyes there was only the dragon in the painting.
The village no longer existed for him; only the painting floated before his eyes. After a moment, even the painting vanished, leaving only a dragon painted in ink and water. The dragon swam in his eyes, now rising, now sinking, now left, now right, at times crawling low, at times rearing and soaring, at times coiling, at times crouching.
It lifted its head, lashed its tail, walked as dragons walk, sported in water, spat fire, breathed thunder — a hundred wonders of nimble spirit. Shen Mu felt as though he had become the dragon in the painting — only, from where he stood, all before him was darkness; he still lacked eyes.
He strove to break through that darkness, but did not know how to open his eyes.