Chapter 127: Each Showing Their Own Prowess

"I... I..." The mystic stood in a daze, clearly not expecting his turn to come so soon.

Unlike the calligraphy challenge, he had to identify a flaw in the painting. Moreover, the most crucial point was that repeating what others had already said was useless. As seconds ticked by, cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

"Time is up," Ghost One said, raising a hand as if to wave it.

Desperate, the mystic blurted out, "The brushwork! The brushwork is too poor! Your technique has not yet reached the pinnacle!"

Ghost One fell silent for a moment. The mystic stared intently at the floating painting, his face tight with anxiety.

Ghost One shook his head. "Incorrect. Brushwork varies according to the context; as long as I reached my best state for that specific moment, it is sufficient."

As the words fell, the mystic vanished into a wisp of blue smoke.

Besides Fang Mu’s group and the masked woman, only one mystic remained. Ghost One turned his gaze toward him. "It is your turn."

"Go to hell!" the mystic roared, conjuring a ball of white light in his hand and hurling it at Ghost One. The light passed clean through Ghost One’s body and vanished without a trace.

Ghost One sighed. "Disobeying the rules—die."

With a puff of blue smoke, the mystic disappeared entirely.

Ghost One then looked at Zhang Liu. "Your turn."

So far, excluding the masked woman who had already passed, only the three in Fang Mu’s group had yet to participate. When Ghost One looked his way, Zhang Liu remained calm, his expression as sullen as ever. He stared at the painting in mid-air and shook his head. "It is missing a person."

Ghost One was taken aback. "Explain in detail. This is strange; the rules did not trigger a judgment." When Zhang Liu had spoken, Ghost One could clearly sense that the statement was accurate, yet the rules had failed to register it.

Zhang Liu said gloomily, "Amidst these green mountains and clear waters, there should be someone to appreciate them. This beautiful scenery can only be truly appreciated by Director Wu. If even Director Wu is absent, then this cannot be called a painting. Paint Director Wu into it—only then can it be called a painting!"

Ghost One fell into a silence, completely unable to grasp why this qualified as a flaw. Yet, the rules dictated that Zhang Liu had passed.

"Pass," Ghost One sighed. Zhang Liu showed no emotion, as if passing were of no consequence to him.

"Pat!"

A hand landed on his shoulder. Zhang Liu turned to look at Fang Mu, confused by his intent.

"I understand you, Liu Xu," Fang Mu said with profound meaning. "Break the dogma; you can do it. I believe in you!"

Zhang Liu: "???"

Why, he wondered, did he suddenly have the urge to draw his blade? He noticed Fang Mu’s expression looked as if he were watching a show, eager to see the chaos unfold. Suppressing the impulse, Zhang Liu turned his head away.

Ghost One ignored their conversation and looked at Iron Calculation Immortal. "Your turn."

The air grew heavy and silent. Called upon, the Immortal stared at the floating painting, frozen in thought as if contemplating something profound. Time flew by.

"Half a stick of incense is almost gone," Ghost One said slowly.

A conflicted look appeared on the Immortal’s face. "I have two answers. May I state both?"

Ghost One shook its head. "No, you must choose one."

The Immortal fell silent, as if standing at a crossroads, agonizing over the choice. After a long while, Ghost One spoke: "Time is up."

Just as Ghost One prepared to wave its hand, the Immortal quickly made his decision. "Feng Shui! The Feng Shui is wrong!"

Ghost One paused, remaining silent.

The Immortal continued, "These mountains and waters—they are all fabrications of yours, for they lack any trace of true Feng Shui. I am in this profession; I can tell!"

Ghost One asked in confusion, "Then why did this succeed?"

Realizing he had passed, the Immortal let out a sigh of relief. "Fabrication without foundation ultimately lacks authenticity. All things must originate from the real."

Ghost One sighed. Its body had faded to half the density it possessed at the start. It suddenly felt as if it might meet its end here. However, it was the City Lord’s order, and it had to be executed.

Everyone else had now taken their turn; only Fang Mu remained. Ghost One turned its gaze toward him. "Sir, if we were on the same side, I would be eager to learn from your teachings on the art of calligraphy. But things are different now—please, Sir, enlighten me."

Unlike its attitude toward others, Ghost One’s demeanor toward Fang Mu was respectful, its tone and posture humble. Having been a man of letters in life, Ghost One held people like Fang Mu in high regard. Yet, it remained confident; it was rare for a mortal to master even one of the four arts—zither, chess, calligraphy, or painting. Since Fang Mu could create characters, he must have spent a lifetime immersed in calligraphy, leaving no room to focus on other disciplines.

Ghost One found it a pity. After being killed by a rule-based entity, the chances of becoming an anomaly were slim. If Fang Mu could become an anomaly, Ghost One would not feel such regret.

Iron Calculation Immortal leaned in. "Why don't you try my method? I have another one I didn't use."

"No," Ghost One interrupted. "Once spoken, it becomes invalid. The rules are not meant to be exploited."

The Immortal sighed. Zhang Liu and the masked woman watched as well. In the Immortal’s mind, while Fang Mu was powerful, he was facing a rule-based anomaly; power was secondary to the rules. He felt it would be nearly impossible for Fang Mu to pass—how could a brute appreciate art?

The masked woman lowered her head, thinking, "Is he going to lose? What a shame. You turn into smoke when you die; if only you could leave a body behind, then..."

In the sky, the painting floated quietly. Fang Mu stared at it. The problem was significant. Based on the previous answers, it was less about finding a "flaw" and more about finding a point of disagreement with one’s own perspective. But to call it a "disagreement" required the acknowledgement of the rules.

Fang Mu pondered how to force the rules to acknowledge him. There was also the issue that he didn't understand the painting at all, so how could he find a point that contradicted his own thoughts?

Time ticked away, and the painting slowly descended until it landed in Ghost One’s hand.

"Time is up," Ghost One sighed. "Sir, fare thee well."

As it raised its right hand, preparing to wave, Fang Mu smiled. "Do you not intend to give me a chance to answer?"

Ghost One paused, then immediately replied, "Of course not. I, Ghost One, was a man of letters in my previous life; how could I perform such a despicable act? If you wish to answer, Sir, please do so."

Fang Mu nodded. He looked at the painting in Ghost One’s hand and slowly uttered three words...