I Really Am A Villain
Ch. 103 - Yang Pearl

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As the golden light fused into his body, Chu Yang’s mind suddenly became crystal clear. Within his consciousness, the piece of paper transformed into countless threads of golden light, slowly sketching out a map.

All the information about the map flooded into his memory.

After a long while, Chu Yang finally opened his eyes. A flash of brilliance passed through them as he muttered to himself, “The Yang Pearl of the Oblivion Bead.”

“Little Yang, what did you just obtain?” the Lord of Samsara asked curiously.

“A map related to the Yang Pearl of the Oblivion Bead,” Chu Yang replied, unable to hide his excitement. “It was left behind by Grand Emperor Wang Chen. After shouldering Heaven’s Will and becoming a Grand Emperor, he once sought the Yin Pearl but couldn’t find any trace of it. Since the Yang Pearl no longer had any use for him after ascending, he hid it somewhere before leaving this world. He hoped that one day, someone fated to receive the Yin Pearl would find both halves, the Yin and Yang Pearls of the Oblivion Bead. This map shows the route to the hiding place of the Yang Pearl.”

“All this was recorded on that paper?” asked the Lord of Samsara.

“Yes, Master. As long as I can obtain the Yang Pearl, the threat of the Yin Pearl can be resolved,” Chu Yang said with a smile.

“Not only that,” the elder said with a chuckle, “you’ll also gain insight into the Dao of Yin and Yang, and could rise like a dragon soaring to the heavens. Remember, the Oblivion Bead ranks fourth on the World’s Rarest Treasures List.”

“No time to waste. Master, I’ll set out now to find the Yang Pearl,” Chu Yang said, eyes burning with determination.

…

At the entrance to the Palace of Paintings, the gateway was not a door but a painting.

Within the painting, a gentle breeze stirred, and several willow trees swayed softly. A boundless river shimmered with light, its surface dotted with small fishing boats.

Near the riverbank stood a humble thatched hut nestled in verdant mountains and crystal waters.

Two red lanterns hung at the door, and the door itself was half-closed, half-open.

It was such a vivid and lifelike painting that, when Xu Zimo placed his hand on the wooden door, the lanterns within the painting flickered to life. His vision instantly went black, and he lost consciousness.

Everyone who entered the palace used the same method.

When Xu Zimo regained consciousness, he found himself standing in the middle of a vast plain.

There wasn’t a soul in sight.

After glancing around, Xu Zimo understood what was happening.

The Palace of Paintings had four trials. Failing any one of them would result in instant expulsion.

He didn’t walk far before he saw a dense forest of maple trees ahead.

“Within a quarter of an hour, identify the one real maple leaf among all the others,” a booming voice echoed from the sky, as if exploding in his ears.

Xu Zimo looked up slightly. The forest ahead had hundreds of maple trees, each bearing thousands of leaves.

Among these tens of thousands of maple leaves, only one was real. Finding it would be no easy feat.

He exhaled deeply, he understood the purpose of this test.

When a painter reaches the highest realm, they can bring what they paint into reality, just like Heartless Painter did.

But no matter how skilled the artist, there’s always a fundamental difference between imitation and true creation.

After all, creating life is the domain of heaven and earth. It involves unfathomable complexity: fate, karma, lifespan, cultivation, the intricacies of the human body, far beyond what paint and ink can fully replicate.

A painter cannot truly create. At most, they mimic the heavens.

This vast forest was filled with false maple leaves, save for one naturally grown leaf, the only real one.

Heartless Painter had set this trial so that those who sought his legacy would learn to distinguish between illusion and reality, rather than becoming obsessed with illusions brought to life.

Xu Zimo slowly closed his eyes. The World Pearl was too important. He couldn’t afford to waste time.

The eyes can deceive. To find the one real maple leaf, he would need to use his mind’s eye.

He cleared his thoughts, releasing all distractions, entering a tranquil state.

He began to circulate his cultivation method, the Grand Freedom Sovereign Codex. At first, his mind remained agitated.

But over time, Xu Zimo felt a growing silence around him, as if the entire world had gone still.

He stood alone in an infinite void. His sight was engulfed in darkness.

Then suddenly, he began to hear faint sounds, soft breezes, the gentle rustling of leaves.

With his eyes closed, Xu Zimo walked calmly through the forest. The sound of rustling maple leaves grew sharper and more distinct.

Listening intently to the subtle differences in the sounds, he slowly made his way forward.

Eventually, he stopped beside one particular tree.

Reaching up with his left hand, he gently searched among the thick branches and carefully plucked a single maple leaf.

Only then did he open his eyes, and smiled.

The moment he held that leaf, the entire forest began to sway unnaturally.

The once-vivid maple trees now looked like a painting unraveling before his eyes.

The whole forest faded away, falling to the ground like a massive scroll.

Xu Zimo found himself back on the plains.

He stored the painting of the maple grove in his storage ring and continued forward.

The further he walked, the hotter it became. The cool spring breeze had turned into blistering heat.

Xu Zimo’s throat felt parched, his skin burned under the blazing sun.

Looking up, he noticed two suns in the sky, scorching the earth below and splitting it into cracked, dry fissures.

After walking a while longer, he spotted a small village ahead.

“Finally,” he muttered, wiping sweat from his forehead with a long sigh of relief.

At the village entrance, a few children wearing straw hats were shooting arrows at the sky with toy bows.

The arrows barely reached a few meters before falling, clearly no match for the suns.

Xu Zimo knew this trial was about imagination.

As a painter, imagination was vital.

“What are you kids doing?” Xu Zimo asked with a smile as he walked over.

“We’re shooting the suns!” one child replied in a childish voice. “It’s way too hot, so we want to shoot one down. Maybe then it’ll cool off.”

Xu Zimo chuckled and said, “Little one, you’re never going to hit the sun that way.”

“Big brother, do you have a way?” the child asked curiously.