**Chapter 94: Dotting the Dragon's Eyes**
When he said this, everyone in the village praised him. The Village Chief nodded and smiled, "The Deaf is remarkable. This is a refined method of competition. The single touch of inspiration bestows soul, seizing the creation of heaven and earth—nothing more and nothing less."
Qin Mu stepped forward and bowed to the Deaf, adopting the posture of a disciple.
The Deaf's expression changed, and he quickly dodged. "We're competing now—no need for teacher-student formalities. We're both students now. After the competition, I'll be your teacher again."
Qin Mu knew his ways were somewhat eccentric, so he adopted the posture of an equal. The Deaf also returned the gesture.
The two each held a brush, standing before the paintings, gazing at the dragons before them.
Using divine power to bring a painted dragon to life was already an impressive achievement. But with insufficient cultivation, using artistic conception to dot the dragon's eyes and bestow soul upon the painting—that involved the creation of heaven and earth.
Qin Mu had previously studied painting and calligraphy with the Deaf, learning to read and write. Though the Deaf had taught him much and he had painted many works with considerable skill, dotting the dragon's eyes to give life to a painting was a first.
The single touch of inspiration, bestowing soul upon painted people and things—the Deaf had indeed taught him this, but Qin Mu had never succeeded.
This round was far more difficult than the previous ones.
Qin Mu gazed intently at the dragon in the painting. The dragon was so lifelike that his gaze upon it made him feel as though the dragon was slowly swimming, constantly changing its posture.
The Deaf's painting skills were truly extraordinary. Even before the eyes were dotted, the dragon in the painting felt as though it might burst from the paper and fly!
Qin Mu raised his brush but hesitated to begin. The dragon was right before him, but how could he dot its eyes?
He realized that wherever he placed the dot, it would be wrong. No matter where he put it, it would be incorrect.
Grandma Si couldn't help but whisper, "Mu'er, tear up the Deaf's painting, and you'll win!"
The Deaf gave her two eye rolls. "A wicked trick. I taught Mu'er to read the sages' words, and his heart holds the sages. He would never do something so wicked."
Grandma Si was furious.
The Village Chief laughed, "Grandma, don't disturb Mu'er and his competition. This trial of the Deaf's is quite clever."
Grandma Si had to restrain herself.
Qin Mu's eyes held only the dragon in the painting. The village ceased to exist in his vision; only the painting floated before his eyes. After a while, even the painting disappeared, leaving only a dragon painted in ink.
The dragon swam before his eyes—up and down, left and right, sometimes crouching, sometimes leaping, sometimes coiled, sometimes prone. It raised its head, swam through water, breathed fire, and spat lightning—truly lively and full of strange wonder.
Qin Mu felt as though he had become the dragon in the painting. But from his perspective, hishis vision went completely dark—he was still missing eyes.
He wanted desperately to break through this darkness, but didn't know how to open them.
He remembered the dragon pillars of Xianglong City, the dragon bones and souls of the Dragon Palace of the Yong River, the stone idols in the village, and the divine brushstrokes of the divine carvings.
The divine carving divine statues was also a form of painting—that wondrous brushwork, that profound spirit, as if giving the statues souls, allowing them to guard the Great Ruins like gods.
After a long while, Qin Mu felt the darkness gradually reveal a sliver of light, as if the dragon was slowly opening its eyes. When all the darkness before him dissipated, a gleam of light burst from Qin Mu's eyes. He raised his brush and dotted the dragon's eyes!
The single touch of inspiration bestows soul!
As his brush descended, the dragon in the painting came alive on the paper, writhing and twisting. Suddenly it flew from the paper into the sky, playing among the clouds, while the painting was left as a blank sheet of white paper, without a single trace of ink!
Qin Mu was stunned—he had actually succeeded!
He had truly managed to bring a dragon painting to life!
The dragon swam in the air for a moment, then quickly turned to ink, dyeing the cloud black.
Qin Mu hurriedly looked at the Deaf and saw that the Deaf had already washed his brush and hung it on the rack. He had not dotted the eyes of his own painting.
Qin Mu immediately realized, "Grandpa Deaf, you let me win?"
The Deaf shook his head. "I didn't let you win. When I was your age, I didn't have your depth of attainment. My trial isn't about winning or losing. As a teacher, I pass on the Way, impart knowledge, and resolve doubts. I'm passing on the Way to you now—why should I care about winning or losing?"
The Herbalist praised, "Deaf, that's the heart of a true teacher. I admire it. Mu'er, my trial isn't to compete with you either, but to have you refine medicine. Go to the herb garden outside the village and gather thirty kinds of highly toxic plants. Refine them into a great tonic. If it's beneficial after you take it, you pass. If you die of poisoning, you stay in the village."
Qin Mu laughed bitterly. How could he stay in the village if he died of poison?
The Herbalist's intention was clear. Using thirty kinds of highly toxic plants to refine a great tonic required extremely precise knowledge of medicinal properties. The dosage of each herb, whether to use leaves or roots, pollen or petals, raw or baked, all required careful consideration.
Moreover, the Herbalist hadn't told him the formula. He had to calculate on his own how much of each herb to use and how to refine it, ensuring the toxins neutralized each other link by link to become a great tonic.
During the refinement process, timing was also crucial. When to add each ingredient, whether as powder or chunks, how high the heat, how long to simmer—all required Qin Mu's own experience to judge.
The slightest error would lead to great distance. If any step went wrong, Qin Mu could end up refining a deadly poison that would kill him.
Qin Mu stood at the edge of the Herbalist's herb garden, gazing at the various herbs. He pondered for a long while, calculating the toxicity of each herb, how to proportion them, how to assign monarch-minister-assistant, how to subdue the dragon and tiger, and balance yin and yang.
After a long time, he entered the garden and carefully gathered the herbs.
When he reached the twenty-ninth herb, Qin Mu stopped gathering. Instead, he carefully caught a five-spotted blister beetle from one of the toxic plants, removing its head and wings to use as the thirtieth highly toxic ingredient.
Qin Mu returned to the village. Some herbs were baked with qi to remove excess medicinal power, some were steamed with water, and others were dehydrated with Vermilion Bird qi.
After working for a long time, he began refining.
The Herbalist stood nearby, observing every step, every technique, and the subtle use of qi, nodding secretly.
Qin Mu refined the medicine, producing a large vat. He used qi to suspend the vat in the air. The thirty herbs were added one by one, but no water was added. Instead, he used his immensely powerful qi tosoak the herbs, using his attribute-less qi to extract the medicinal power from the plants.
The Herbalist was slightly moved. This was Qin Mu's unique technique—one he himself couldn't replicate. His qi had attributes, and the herbs had attributes, so his qi would destroy the herbs' properties. Only Qin Mu's attribute-less qi could extract the medicinal power this way.
Qin Mu became even more careful. His qi split into thirty streams, each soaking one herb, while the palm holding the vat erupted with Vermilion Bird qi, transforming into blazing flames that began to fuse the medicinal power within the vat.
His other hand flowed with Black Tortoise qi, using water mist to nourish the medicinal power, slowing the fusion process while extracting residue from the vat.
After a long while, Qin Mu suddenly rotated the vat. A clanging sound came from within. When the vat stopped spinning, inside were several white pills constantly turning, translucent and luminous like sheep-fat jade beads.
Qin Mu reached in and pinched out a pill. Grandma Si asked nervously, "Herbalist, is there poison?"
The Herbalist laughed, "Mu'er will know once he eats it."
Qin Mu opened his mouth and swallowed the pill. "Don't worry, Grandma, this pill has no toxins..."
BANG—
His hair suddenly exploded outward, growing wildly in all directions. Grandma Si and the others jumped in fright. Qin Mu quickly said, "Don't panic, everyone. This is just one herb I didn't adjust properly, affecting the kidney water. The kidney water stimulates hair growth, making my hair a bit... abundant, that's all."
Grandma Si said angrily, "This is a bit abundant?"
Qin Mu's hair continued to grow longer and thicker. The hair stood straight up like bamboo shoots, growing to two or three zhang in length, stiff and upright.
Qin Mu felt his head growing heavier. "Grandma, the greatest benefit of this pill is healing. It can rapidly regenerate rotting muscles, heal torn muscles, regrow broken bones, and reconnect severed tendons. The kidney water stimulating hair growth is just a minor side effect..."
His hair kept growing, weighing his head down more and more, nearly unable to support the explosion of long hair.
The Herbalist stifled a laugh. "This trial, you've passed. Butcher, shave his hair for him. If it grows any longer, his neck will break."
The Butcher stepped forward and shaved his entire head clean in three quick strokes, leaving it smooth and shiny.
Everyone looked at the Mute. The Mute wiped his hands on a towel, dragged the furnace from the collapsed smithy, took two pieces of cold iron, and threw them into the furnace. The fire immediately died out, and frost formed on the furnace walls.
The Mute stepped away, laughing. "Ah, ah ah!"