C47 Profound and Unpredictable

The mayor emerged with a serene expression, moving at a leisurely pace. His silver hair was casually tied back with a black ribbon.

As soon as he made his appearance, Ni Huibo experienced a peculiar illusion. It was as though a grand Mountain stood before him, exuding a powerful presence. Yet, when he took a closer look, the vision vanished in an instant, as if it had never been there.

"What kind of realm is this?"

Ni Huibo was startled. His perception was hazy, but he harbored no doubts.

The sensation originated from his Heavenly Eye, located between his eyebrows. However, due to his nascent cultivation level and his rudimentary mastery of the Heavenly Eye, his ability to discern was still unclear.

"Greetings, Mr. Mayor."

While Ni Huibo was still reeling from the experience, Du Aijiao bowed and said, "Ni is a prodigy. It's no trouble at all for me to come and greet him."

His tone was even, and he emanated a vibe similar to the mayor's.

"Hello, Mr. Mayor."

Ni Huibo regained his composure and quickly bowed, setting aside his earlier confusion.

The elderly mayor nodded and instructed, "Jiang, go ahead with your tasks. Ni Huibo, follow me."

Ni Huibo entered the cottage behind him, while Du Aijiao remained still for a moment before slipping away silently.

Inside, the decor was sparse, with just a table, a chair, and a few paintings on the wall. Ni Huibo took a quick look around and recognized one of the paintings—it was the one he had brought previously.

The old mayor approached the table, which was set with a complete array of writing materials.

He carefully smoothed out a sheet of white xuan paper before lifting it.

"How do you find this piece of calligraphy?"

He asked with a genial smile, his face creasing into a warm, approachable look that belied his status as mayor.

Ni Huibo's expression of reverence remained unchanged. He stepped forward to examine the calligraphy. The flawless white xuan paper featured four bold black characters, each brimming with vitality.

After scrutinizing the work for a long moment, Ni Huibo spoke with earnest gravity, "This calligraphy is excellent."

"The conveyed artistic conception isn't quite accurate."

"What do you mean by that?"

The old mayor arched an eyebrow, a look of intrigue playing across his face. He regarded Ni Huibo with a measured gaze. Despite the cloudiness in his eyes, a sharp glint was unmistakable.

After a moment's contemplation, Ni Huibo elaborated, "At first glance, this calligraphy exudes a sense of robust grandeur, yet the essence of these four words is the embodiment of relentless bravery."

"The writing is excellent, and the presence is commanding, but together, they create a disconnect."

His words were heartfelt.

The old mayor fixed his gaze on Ni Huibo, trying to glean something from his eyes. Yet, Ni Huibo's face bore nothing but a mix of earnestness and solemnity.

After observing Ni Huibo for some time, the mayor suddenly burst into laughter and conceded, "You've hit the nail on the head."

"This piece was penned by Du Aijiao, a novice in the art of calligraphy, unaware of its deeper nuances. You are the sole person to have identified the issue."

A gentle smile played on Ni Huibo's lips. The flaw in the calligraphy was evident to anyone with a rudimentary understanding of the art, but he was the only one to voice it, a fact that spoke volumes.

The mayor, with a flick of his wrist, tossed the paper aside. As if by magic, a gentle breeze appeared to sweep through the room, guiding the paper to rest in a corner. The delicate sheet landed softly, perfectly smooth, without a single crease.

Ni Huibo's eyes followed the paper's descent, his face a mask of tranquility, but inside, a storm of awe was brewing. The old mayor had managed to manipulate the casually discarded paper with such finesse that it lay there, orderly and still. Without employing the Heavenly Eye, Ni Huibo wouldn't have even noticed the subtle control.

To say the mayor could manipulate it effortlessly was no exaggeration. Such prowess was beyond even his uncle, who had attained the second level of Great Perfection.

"There, it's merely a simple technique; don't dwell on it. With your talent, it's only a matter of time before you reach this level yourself."

The old mayor gave Ni Huibo an offhand look and spoke with a nonchalant air.

After returning to the table, he meticulously ground the ink on the inkstone. Meanwhile, a sheet of paper silently drifted out from beneath the table and settled smoothly on its surface.

"How many cyclones have you managed to condense?" he inquired abruptly while grinding the ink.

Ni Huibo, still captivated by the paper's dance, was initially startled by the question. His surprise quickly turned to delight, and he eagerly responded, "I have condensed one hundred and twenty-four cyclones."

"Your progress is quite rapid, certainly much quicker than Du Aijiao's," the mayor observed, nodding in approval. "In cultivation, remember not to rush. Steady progress is key. With the Lifedrinker Orb at your disposal, this is especially true. The cultivation insights I've documented in my book are the result of many years of experience. Study them well."

"Thank you," Ni Huibo said, bowing deeply. But as he bent forward, an unseen force seemed to hold him in place, preventing him from bowing any further, no matter how hard he tried.

The mayor continued to grind the ink, his demeanor calm and gentle.

"I have not taken you on as a disciple. I gave you the book of cultivation insights simply because I saw potential in you and felt a spontaneous urge to guide you," he explained.

"The gift of enlightenment is akin to being reborn!"

With a solemn expression, Ni Huibo reflected for a moment before speaking earnestly, "Without your guidance, I would likely still be tending to flowers and reading in the courtyard, nowhere near the achievements I have reached today."

For Ni Huibo, the mayor's introduction to the immortal path was tantamount to offering him hope in the search for his parents.

The mayor paused, his hand still. The black ink in the inkstone caught the sunlight streaming through the window, flowing slowly.

"The harshness of the cultivation world far exceeds your imagination. There may come a day when you'll regret it. If you can refrain from blaming me then, that will be enough," he said, his eyes no longer gleaming with intensity but showing a hint of weariness instead. The golden sunlight draped over his pristine white coat, yet it seemed to carry a weight, devoid of the expected vibrancy.

The mood in the room turned somber with these few words, leaving Ni Huibo feeling almost breathless.