Chapter 467: 绘颜

"Do you think Junior Disciple will succeed?"

In the audience, Mo Jiao looked at the red-robed figure on the stage, his back to them, and couldn't help but ask.

"I don't know," Luan Mei shook her head. "This secret art has only ever been heard of from Master; no one has actually practiced it."

"If Master says this secret art can be practiced, then it definitely can. And Junior Disciple is extraordinarily gifted. If even he can't master it, then it's likely no one in this world ever will," Ning Ruyu slowly stated.

"That's true..."

After Master touched Chen Ling's forehead with the brush, Chen Ling became motionless on the stage, as if he had fallen into a deep sleep.

Seeing this, Master did not remain on stage. He walked directly to the audience seating area, slowly sat down, and the five of them sat together, their gazes fixed on the red-robed figure on the stage.

"From now on, it's all up to Sixth Brother."

In a world of pure white, Chen Ling slowly opened his eyes.

At that moment, he floated in mid-air like a plankton. Everything around him was empty; there was nothing but endless white.

Chen Ling kept his eyes open, staying in this empty, pristine white world for a long time before a flicker of awareness returned to his gaze. His memories surged back like a tide, and he felt as if he had just awakened from a long dream.

Chen Ling had not fully recovered from that strange state. Before, he had seemed to forget everything, entering a "daze-like" state where he couldn't even perceive the passage of time.

"Is this what Master called 'Formless and Selfless'?" Chen Ling murmured to himself.

According to Master, he was currently in a dormant state, with only a sliver of his consciousness awake. This meant that the Chen Ling in this white space was not complete.

Chen Ling looked around, trying to control his body to explore this white space, but no matter which direction he moved, it was just an endless expanse of white. There was no physical substance here; it was part of his spiritual world.

"So this is the Blank Face-Paint..."

Chen Ling recalled Master's words and, incidentally, reviewed the mysterious incantations he had just learned. Fortunately, there were no omissions; he remembered them clearly.

He took a deep breath, his lips parting slightly, and the obscure, complex incantations began to echo in the vast white world:

"Heaven and Earth are illusory, the true self is selfless, the confined spirit becomes a support, hook my sacred form..."

As Chen Ling's incantation reverberated through the space, everything around him suddenly stirred, like a hazy mist being agitated by an unseen hand. Disordered light and shadow began to emerge from within...

Chen Ling could feel something about to manifest from this empty world as the incantations echoed.

*Buzz—!*

A low hum sounded, and the void around Chen Ling twisted out of thin air. The environment suddenly changed!

Black killing intent spread through the air. In the distant sky, a towering black greatsword stood majestically, reaching into the heavens. He now stood amidst a ground covered with corpses, blood staining the earth...

Seeing this scene, Chen Ling was slightly stunned.

This is... the Ancient Military Repository?

"The three of you, come at me together," a familiar voice called from a distance. Chen Ling turned his head.

On the opposite hillside, "Chen Ling" was looking down at Lu Xuanming, Jian Changsheng, and Pu Wen, who were all covered in wounds, his eyes filled with sharpness and a hint of mockery.

The next moment, he was fighting with the three. A black handgun was pressed against Pu Wen's forehead, and with a single shot, one person was instantly killed, blood mixed with brain matter splattering the ground. He then turned, wielding a dagger, fighting two against one, engaging Lu Xuanming and Jian Changsheng!

His movements were like a ghost, his killing intent chilling to the bone. Relying on his "Slaughter Dance" and terrifying combat instincts, he successively killed both, becoming the final victor of the Ancient Military Repository.

Amidst the corpses scattered across the mountains and fields, "Chen Ling," holding a dripping dagger, slowly turned and met the gaze of the other Chen Ling.

—Sheng.

Under the gaze of the "God of Slaughter" Chen Ling, the surrounding environment gradually dissipated. Streaks of blood-red patterns extended from the image, beginning to outline themselves in the vast white world, as if something was slowly taking shape.

"This is... Painting the Vermillion Face?" Chen Ling murmured to himself. "So, my role type is Sheng?"

Before his voice faded, the scene before his eyes changed abruptly!

Feather-light snow fluttered in the air. Inside a rather luxuriously decorated residence, a figure draped in a large red opera robe slowly walked out of the house...

It was a "Dan" role, with red makeup like apricot blossoms and eyebrows like hooks, resembling Chen Yan. He walked slowly out of the house filled with corpses, appearing as the sole splash of vermillion in a pale world.

He stared intently at Qian Fan and the other two, his lips slightly parted, and then a long, resonant, and highly penetrating vocalization echoed in the sky!

"A young nun, sixteen years old, in the prime of her youth, had her hair shorn by her Master..."

"Chen Ling... Chen Ling! I know I was wrong! Please let me go... I'll give you all my money! I'll never again..."

*Pfft—!*

The wide sleeves fluttered like butterfly wings, and the cold glint of the dagger arced. The next moment, two heads were tossed high into the snowy ground...

—Dan.

As the scene before him gradually faded, a second face began to be outlined on Chen Ling's "face skin," slowly overlapping with Sheng, intertwining into another complex and mysterious pattern.

"'Mortal World, welcome me, someone is here.'"

Behind Chen Ling, another deep voice sounded.

He turned to look and saw a figure wearing a golden mask and a black trench coat, standing tall above Red Dust Main City!

The Golden Society's Special Envoy, dragging a golden mountain that resembled the sun, like an emperor in the night, overlooked the city below. Countless figures rushed out, scrambling to prostrate themselves at his feet...

—Jing.

"Chen Ling, what do you plan to do after graduation?"

Two figures appeared to Chen Ling's left. It was the rooftop of the Imperial Capital Drama Academy's teaching building, an inconspicuous corner in his memory. At that moment, two young men, uncertain about their futures, stood together, gazing into the distance.

"I've submitted my resume to the Imperial Capital Grand Theater, applying for an intern director position. I should hear back in the next couple of days."

"The Imperial Capital Grand Theater? That's pretty good... But I heard it's hard to make a living there. Out of ten intern directors, I heard they usually only keep one at most."

"It would be great if I could get in. We'll see about the rest later."

"Do you know Chen Nan from the class next door? His dad is the chairman of Longhua Entertainment. I heard he's already secured investments and started making his own films recently! That Director Zhang Mou, who's won so many awards he's practically numb, is his supervisor. They say he's specifically there to guide him... If nothing goes wrong, he'll soon become a famous director."

"Tsk... Why is the gap between people so huge?"

"Some people are born to be the protagonists of this world. As for us, at best, we're just NPCs."

"What can we do about it? Life still goes on... Let's work hard. Maybe hard work can change everything," the young man said, raising his head and murmuring as he watched the setting sun in the distance.

"I'll work hard... One day, I'll become a great director through my own efforts."

"When you become rich and famous, don't forget your friends!"

—Mo.