"Look at that, Father! Isn't he incredible?" Ye Xuanhan said, forcing a smile. His handsome face was covered in black-and-blue bruises, and his eyelids were so swollen that he could barely open his eyes. He was angry that his father had specifically targeted his face, knowing how proud he was of his looks. Still, it was better than being killed outright. He hadn't realised that massacring the Han clan would enrage his father so much. Luckily, he had brought Hua Beifeng along. Without him, he would be dead. "With him here, we don't need the Han clan anymore. He's a natural genius, and if we can dissect him, our sect will flourish!"

The truth was, he felt slimy trying to butter up his father. Who was he? He was Ye Xuanhan, the young master of the Nether Lotus Sect, the next patriarch, the future ruler of the world. Why did he need to play nice with his father?

As if hearing his thoughts, his father turned his head toward him. Ye Xuanhan instantly replied with a practiced smile.

Right, this is the Demon Beast. If he were to become the ruler of the world, then his father would be the ruler of the universe, at least for a while. When he had enough power, he would get rid of the man.

As he thought this, his qi began to churn, boiling inside his body as if eager to test itself. Ye Xuanhan reined it in, though some of it leaked out. Instantly, the air shuddered, as if the world itself trembled at his presence.

His father finally grunted. "He is… acceptable."

He then looked forward, toward a farm village right under the Nether Mountain. This particular village was loyal to his sect. Every month, they gave acceptable tributes. They weren't particularly valuable; while an interesting bloodline flowed through their veins, one whose properties could slightly boost cultivation, their taste was foul. Still, they were one of the rare villages that chose to play along nicely, and to encourage others to do the same, the sect spared them. Moreover, this village had one girl that Ye Xuanhan quite liked. Her moans were exquisite, to the point that he had wanted to rip out her throat and plant it in another, prettier girl. Recently though, she had lost her luster. Her stomach had bulged, and he had lost his appetite for her. So, he didn't really care about this village anymore.

It seemed his father thought the same, since this was the village he chose to test Hua Beifeng's capabilities.

They stood atop a high platform made from randomly crisscrossing black steel rods. It was so high that it surpassed the tallest nearby tree, and they could see the shabby, dirty little village as a whole. Shouts of terror blanketed the settlement, and when he heard a specific cry from that woman, he couldn't help but snicker. It sounded funny, like a chicken with its neck stuck in a fence.

His father looked at him again, and he ceased his laughter, contorting his face into a serious expression.

"It is hard to believe that it is not a bloodline," his father said calmly.

As he spoke, a snake with a gleaming black surface burst from a hut, destroying the wall. A cloud of dust spread as the hut began to collapse. The snake looked menacing and lively, as if it were truly a spirit beast rampaging alongside Hua Beifeng. On the other side of the village, a large bird was lining up the bodies of five children on the ground. Then, it pecked at each of their heads, making them explode like water balloons. This cart-sized bird looked almost abstract. The surface of its red beak flowed as if made from blood, and its body was an almost-formless brown blob, yet the lines defining its shape and feathers were clear enough to identify it as a bird. Its yellow eyes were menacing, and its yellow feet and sharp talons were beautiful, yet too thin to support its weight.

There were others too, though they were not animals. A white cloud looked as if it had come straight from a painting, its outline painted with black ink. A small hill with a red waterfall stood in the center of the village, flooding the entire area with blood. Shadows crept alongside walls, swallowing fleeing mortals and then spitting them out, naked and hairless.

"His technique is very versatile," he nodded. "It can be anything he wants, with whatever effect he desires."

The technique Hua Beifeng used was of his own creation, which was an amazing feat. While there were myriad techniques in this world, not all cultivators could create one on their own, or at the very least from scratch. Most techniques were attempts to refine or modify existing ones.

Of course, it didn't mean there was a shortage of people who wanted to create new techniques, but it was a rare case for a truly novel and unique technique to be born, considering cultivators had already existed for countless years.

Hua Beifeng's technique revolved around painting, which was ridiculous for Ye Xuanhan's taste. Still, he couldn't deny its prowess and potential.

"It is a shame that the one wielding it is too wild for my taste," his father continued. "His technique also relies on his mental state, which means that the same cycle pattern, same intent, and same brushstroke could create a different effect."

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Ye Xuanhan laughed a little. "Yeah, I said the same thing to him, and he said that it was because it is art. That guy is a painter first and a cultivator second. Quite an amusing guy, especially since he denied a woman I offered him, stating that he only had space for one woman in his heart. The most amusing thing is, that woman was already dead. The guy is really funny."

His father didn't share his amusement, so Ye Xuanhan observed the funny guy from afar. He was standing on a menacing throne made from piles of bones—a painting, not real bones. Skeletons of humans, wolves, a horned human, snakes, and many more beasts adorned the pile. A spiral of red qi circled him, looking like a small tornado whose tip entered his body through the gap between his eyebrows. He closed his eyes, both hands clutching a large paintbrush in front of his chest as if in prayer.

"It seems like your cultivation method is a perfect match for him," Ye Xuanhan said to his father, envying Hua Beifeng. The Blood Qi Scripture was easy. To cultivate, one just needed blood, and not necessarily a cultivator's blood; any kind was fine. Of course, the further he advanced, the higher the quality of blood needed, but the requirements weren't harsh. After all, blood would always exist as long as there were living things, and living things would continue to exist as long as they were breeding. It was a straightforward path to immortality.

"Indeed," his father nodded, then continued. "You have permission to hunt Han Jiulao. Make sure he comprehends a spatial technique that will allow us to move great distances. After that, bring me those women. I've paid a hefty sum for those experiments, and I don't want some random guy reaping the seeds I sowed."

Ye Xuanhan smiled. "Of course! I'll bring them to you soon, because I too want to know how they feel. Each of them must be a unique experience to taste."

"Just don't break them," his father said. "They are expensive."

With that, his father transformed into a blinding yellow light and vanished. Ye Xuanhan was silent for a moment, and then he spat. His father was an unfunny and annoying bastard. People called him emotionless or said his heart was made of steel—cold and unmoving—but he knew for a fact that his father was a pathetic man; a coward, weak, stupid, and temperamental on the inside. Still, while he hated the guy, he was useful, so he kept him around. Though he knew that usefulness was limited.

"Stay positive, me," he murmured. "Women like a positive and cheerful guy."

Ye Xuanhan then smiled, his lips stretching so wide they looked unnatural. A woman looking at that face would be terrified beyond belief. A moment later, however, the wide smile faded.

"How stupid," he murmured.

Long ago, when he was just a rebellious kid who wanted to play, he met a little girl so adorable he wanted to eat her. She asked him to play, and he of course agreed. The day he played with her was the first day in this world he felt truly alive and excited, and her words stuck in his mind to this day. "Some people smile when they are happy, but my mother said that you can force a smile and then your heart will be happy. Body follows mind, and mind follows body, or something like that."

Ye Xuanhan jumped and landed on the rooftop of a hut. Instead of a loud thud, his feet only sent dust flying, leaving the rooftop intact. He looked down and realized his new friend had already stopped cultivating. Instead, he had ripped the door off a small shop and thrown it to the side. Sensing that something exciting was about to occur—he hoped there was a woman inside—he jumped and landed right in the doorway. But upon realizing there was only a man inside, he frowned.

"Beifeng, are you finished? We need to go raid some other place," he said casually, observing the inside of the shop. Spatial techniques were quite rare, but not impossible to obtain.

The shop's interior was small, only about ten steps from one side to the other. Along the walls, lots of flags, banners, blankets, and even clothes were hanging, making the room look… unique. He took several steps until he was right behind Hua Beifeng and began to whistle, realizing the shop's theme. It was indeed a shop, though it seemed to be focused on embroidery, and each of the banners, clothes, and flags was more akin to a painting than normal clothing.

He looked over Hua Beifeng's shoulder and saw the man he assumed was the owner. Most people in this village were currently scared shitless, but not this man. He looked straight at Hua Beifeng with unflinching eyes and then said, "What you create is not art."

Ye Xuanhan grinned. Art. It was a topic that would make Hua Beifeng talk, and the man's words were a jab. He took several steps to the side and looked at Hua Beifeng, who was studying the wall like a collector assessing artworks. After a while, he snorted. "What do you know about art? Look at your creations. They are dull, unimaginative, and not even creative. That thing," he pointed at a robe hanging spread out in the shape of a butterfly, "the pattern on it is merely an imitation of White Crane Longing for the Moon."

The man crossed his arms. "It is indeed not a good artwork. There aren't many people who would recognize it as art, and yet, it's a piece that made you look my way, and it is evoking something in your heart."

"Only because of how dull and uncreative it is," Hua Beifeng retorted. "I came here not to admire it, but to wonder what kind of person created it. You're indeed the kind of man I imagined would create something so dull and pitiful."

The man smiled. "It is all right." He looked at the robe. "I think it is beautiful, and that's enough for me. Although it's not my best creation."

"What is your best creation?"

"It's an embroidery I created on a purple robe. It was beautiful, practical too. It had some array formations on it, and I expanded them, creating some additional enhancements on top of making it prettier," he sighed contentedly. "It's a shame that somebody stole it."

Hua Beifeng opened his mouth, as if to ask a question, but Ye Xuanhan found it boring and decided to flick some of his qi toward the man. Instantly, his head exploded in a shower of blood. Ye Xuanhan smiled. "You need to realize your position. After all, you're my underling, and no underling of mine will disgrace himself by talking with a mortal on equal terms."

Hua Beifeng's eyes widened. He snapped his gaze toward him, sharp and full of malice. Then, he lunged like a tiger. Ye Xuanhan laughed. They were in a hurry, so he would need to beat him as fast and as painfully as possible.

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