Chapter 383 - 366: No Dao or Principle Has Ever Decreed Who Must Possess Talent

On the small boat, when Song Ciwan said, "thirty taels for a painting," a long silence descended around her.

A good while passed. A gust of wind blew across the water, and a small fish suddenly leaped into the air, landing with a splash on the deck. The Big White Goose rushed excitedly to the edge of the boat, stretched out its neck, and with a single peck, precisely snatched the little fish in its beak.

Only then did Song Ciwan hear two gasps of shock, one after the other.

"Huh?" It was Aunt Wen who asked in disbelief. "Miss, what did you just say?"

"Ahh!" The gasp of delight came from Aunt Wen’s daughter, Xiaoni, who then quickly clapped a hand over her mouth.

Following that were two surging waves of human desires.

[Human Desires: A mortal’s surprise, confusion, and bewilderment. Five jin and two liang. Tradable.]

Qi Over Five Jin. Aunt Wen was thrilled, yet bewildered.

[Human Desires: A mortal’s surprise, joy, and elation. Four jin and three liang. Tradable.]

Xiaoni was the simpler of the two; she felt almost nothing but pure joy.

Song Ciwan deliberately frowned. "Aunt Wen, is thirty taels a painting too cheap? Actually... yes, it is. Forgive my presumption. I should have said three hundred taels..."

In fact, if measured solely by gold and silver, Song Ciwan believed these paintings to be priceless.

But given Aunt Wen’s current circumstances, Song Ciwan knew she shouldn’t set the price too high.

Too high a price might actually end up harming her.

After all, sudden wealth is dangerous, like a child carrying gold in public.

Fortunately, they were on the boat with no one else around. When she made her offer to Aunt Wen, Song Ciwan had already cast her Wind Manipulation Technique to block all sound from traveling.

This clever little application of Wind was similar to a sound-blocking spell.

Song Ciwan had grasped this ability naturally after a recent flash of insight, with no need to learn any new Magic.

Aunt Wen was practically speechless. She could only wave her hands frantically, stammering, "N-no, no need for three hundred taels! Thirty... Miss, thirty taels is enough, more than enough."

As she spoke, her face flushed. She sighed in embarrassment. "I’d feel like a swindler. These paintings... they’re just patched-together scraps. Selling them for thirty taels a piece? How could I possibly? I’d be too ashamed to even ask for three taels..."

Song Ciwan shook her head. "Aunt Wen, look at the water before us. Countless sails on a vast expanse, and in the distance, the water and sky are one color. Isn’t it beautiful?"

Aunt Wen was taken aback. "It is. It’s stunningly beautiful, of course."

Song Ciwan continued, "Then let me ask you, Aunt Wen, what is the riverbed like under this water?"

Aunt Wen had grown up by the water and had seen the waterways near Huijiang City during the dry season. She answered without thinking, "The riverbed? It’s all just silt and deep holes."

After saying this, a thought struck her, and she cried out in alarm, "Miss, you’re not thinking of going into the water to see for yourself, are you? Heavens, you mustn’t do that! It’s dangerous down there. Even the most skilled swimmer on this river—our best ’water monkey’—wouldn’t dare claim they could handle what’s at the bottom! You truly cannot go in, you absolutely mustn’t!"

Song Ciwan said, "Aunt Wen, you misunderstand. I’m not thinking of going in the water. I just want you to consider this: even though the riverbed is nothing but silt and deep holes, that doesn’t detract from the beauty of the scenery on the surface. Think about it, isn’t that true?"

Aunt Wen paused, taken aback. "Yes... that really is true."

Song Ciwan said, "Nature itself is this way. Consider gorgeous brocade; the silkworms that spin the thread must first pass through several unsightly larval stages. Or consider a vibrant spider; the more brilliant its colors, the more venomous it tends to be.

The mountains and the land, not a single inch of soil is pretty to look at. Yet all the world’s elegant beauty, its lush greenery and vibrant blossoms, must all emerge from that same soil.

There has never been a rule about where beauty must come from. By what right does anyone say that a masterpiece cannot be painted on a canvas patched together from scraps?"

Her tone was as calm as if she were making small talk, not the least bit impassioned. But as Aunt Wen listened, she felt as though great, resonant bells were tolling over and over inside her head.

No one had ever said such things to her before. Never!

[Human Desires: A mortal’s joy, confusion, and excitement. Four jin and nine liang. Tradable.]

What Aunt Wen didn’t know was that as Song Ciwan spoke, she was also invisibly casting the Dharma Transmission Skill.

What she heard was not merely ordinary encouragement, but a Celestial Pride from the Ten Thousand Spirits Celestial Pride List performing a Dharma Transmission for her!

Her story had touched Song Ciwan, and now Song Ciwan was extending a ray of light into her darkness, planting in her the seeds of the Dao.

This, too, was a matter of fate.

Song Ciwan said, "No principle, natural or logical, has ever decreed what kind of person is allowed to have worth. Aunt Wen, talent is not confined to a single path.

Some people are born into wealth and privilege, blessed with the finest of everything. They use high-grade paper and the best ink brushes. They have servants at home and carriages for travel. One could say they are free from all worldly troubles, needing only to focus on their studies.

But are such people guaranteed to paint breathtaking masterpieces or write magnificent prose?"

Aunt Wen wanted to say, ’Of course they can! With advantages like that, they must be the young masters and ladies of wealthy families, or disciples of an Immortal Sect. How could they possibly fail?’

But when the words reached her lips, she found she couldn’t bring herself to voice her rebuttal.

For at that moment, her heart was in turmoil as a new emotion began to brew and blossom within her.

It left her with a thousand things to say, yet unable to speak a single word.

Her mouth hung slightly open, her hands resting on the sculling oar for support, as she stared blankly at Song Ciwan.

Song Ciwan said, "You know it’s true, Aunt Wen. The best conditions don’t always yield the finest fruit. After all, the world has never lacked for useless heirs of wealthy families. And as for the countless Scholars who study their entire lives in mediocrity only to achieve nothing in the end, they are simply too numerous to count.