Chapter 28: The Method of Becoming a God in the Mortal World, the Miraculous Art of Painting

After listening to his master’s explanation, Zhang Zhiwei pondered and said, "'Nature' is the foundation of the soul, while 'Life' is the bedrock of the physical body. To perform as another using one's own nature and life—that sounds incredibly difficult!"

Zhang Jingqing nodded. "It is indeed difficult. That is why, from ancient times to the present, no one has ever succeeded."

"Master, if one were to succeed, what would happen?" Zhang Zhiwei asked.

"If successful, one would naturally become a god instantly. There would be no need to deliberately collect faith; one would directly obtain all the abilities and all the faith associated with the deity being portrayed," Zhang Jingqing replied indifferently.

"Is it really that simple?" Zhang Zhiwei mused. "Compared to the 'nature' of a god—which is formed by the convergence of thousands of beliefs and countless legends—the 'nature' of a human is no more than a single drop of water compared to an ocean."

"Setting aside how difficult it is to cultivate one's own 'nature' to be indistinguishable from that of a god, even if one succeeded, this drop of water would be completely dissolved into the sea. In that case, who is in control of this sea—the drop of water, or the sea itself?"

Hearing this, Zhang Jingqing replied, "Your perspective is quite sharp, but that is not the crucial point. When one reaches a profound level of mastery, to the point where one truly believes they are a god, it no longer matters whether one is a drop or the sea."

Zhang Zhiwei realized, "That is true. At that stage, one's own nature has already become divine. What difference does it make if one is water or sea? In any case, it is no longer oneself."

Zhang Jingqing said, "Zhiwei, you think very far ahead, but thinking too far is merely being unrealistic. Practitioners of the 'God Mask' often cultivate multiple masks. It is hard for a single drop of water to transform into several different oceans, so there is no point in overthinking it."

Zhang Zhiwei countered, "It is still meaningful. If cultivation is not aimed directly at the Great Dao but merely at superficial tricks, what can one hope to achieve? No matter how long one cultivates, it remains amateurish."

This was precisely why Zhang Zhiwei placed such emphasis on the cultivation of nature and life, while somewhat neglecting the art of talismans. Side arts are, after all, just side arts; only the strength of one's own nature and life leads to eternal power.

In Zhang Zhiwei's view, if one were to practice the God Mask, one should suffice. To practice many, and to bring each to such a profound depth that one truly believes in them—wouldn't that be schizophrenia?

And if one does not firmly believe, and keeps switching between this god and that, what is the point of this "stealing the heavens and changing the day" God Mask? It would be less direct than the art of Spirit Possession.

It was like Xia Liuqing of the Quansheng Sect, who practiced a mess of God Masks but could not fight effectively. While the older masters were all performing feats of glory, he was the only one getting beaten up.

"By the way, Master, I have an idea!" A shocking thought popped into Zhang Zhiwei's mind.

"Having ideas is a good thing. Speak," said Zhang Jingqing.

"If a practitioner of the God Mask doesn't perform as any god, but instead performs as themselves, what would happen? Would that lead directly to the highest realm?" Zhang Zhiwei asked.

Zhang Jingqing: "..."

He then retorted grumpily, "If you perform as yourself, you would naturally reach the highest realm because you are already there. But what is the point? It would be the same as not practicing at all!"

Zhang Zhiwei argued, "It may be meaningless at the beginning, but what if I truly became a god? No, not becoming a god in truth, but in the eyes of others. When everyone believes I am a god, then am I not effectively a god? Moreover, it would not contaminate my own spirituality, because I am only performing as myself!"

As Zhang Zhiwei spoke, Zhang Jingqing stared at his disciple in astonishment. Performing as oneself, getting the masses to deify him, and then naturally accepting his own godhood—what a shocking and outrageous idea.

Zhang Zhiwei continued, "To me, using the God Mask to perform as a god is like a thief using a disguise to sneak into a shop to steal. The process is perilous and difficult."

"But if I perform as myself and build myself into a god, it is equivalent to starting my own business and building my own shop. I am the owner myself, and I don't need to use external objects to steal the power of faith, because it was mine to begin with..."

Seeing Zhang Zhiwei getting more and more excited, Zhang Jingqing quickly interrupted him.

"Young man, it is good to have ideas, but you must not be unrealistic or build castles in the air. Have you ever considered that your virtue might not match your position? If you deify yourself in this world, can you withstand the backlash? As the saying goes, 'Literature has no first, martial arts has no second.' If you claim to be this or that god, and others refuse to accept it, what will you do?"

"Then I'll fight for it," said Zhang Zhiwei.

Zhang Jingqing scolded, "Fight for it? That is easy to say, but what if you lose? Many have tried to become gods in this world, but few have succeeded. The founder of our Celestial Master Mansion, Zhang Daoling, did exactly that, and our Zhengyi Sect is the result. But he only did it after reaching the Dao and becoming invincible in the world. Without sufficient means to protect your path, do not think about such things."

"Master is right; the disciple understands," Zhang Zhiwei bowed his head, though in his heart, he was still weighing the feasibility of this method. Invincible in the world? Isn't that the future version of me, the Celestial Master?

Zhang Jingqing, unaware of his disciple's thoughts, continued, "A person's reputation is like a tree's shadow; a tall tree attracts the wind. Look at Zuo Ruotong of the San-Yi Sect, nicknamed the 'Great Abundance Immortal.' He dared to call himself an Immortal because his strength was recognized by all, not because he had the title before he had the strength. Remember, everything in this world has its price. To obtain something, you must see if you can afford that price..."

Zhang Jingqing was still speaking when a commotion under the stage interrupted him. He looked over with displeasure.

Zhang Zhiwei breathed a sigh of relief and followed his gaze.

It turned out the troublemaker was a fat man holding a cup of tea, shouting, "A good show deserves good wine! This tea, no matter how good, is bland and tasteless!"

The surrounding people looked at him with disdain. The Lu family had hosted a lavish banquet and even invited famous Peking Opera performers; why was he being so picky? Besides, who drinks alcohol while listening to Peking Opera? How vulgar!

However, no one scolded him. Since it was the Lu family's venue, it was up to the Lu family to handle it.

But at that moment, a middle-aged man with white hair, a buzz cut, high cheekbones, and a long robe stood up and chuckled, "This brother wants to drink? That is not difficult."

His voice was not loud, but it drew everyone's attention.

The white-haired man reached out, and suddenly, brushes, ink, and paper appeared in his hand. He picked up a brush and began to paint. In a few strokes, he drew a black jar with the character for "wine" written on a red paper strip in the center.

"Brother, the wine is here!"

With a flick of his hand, a column of water flew from the mouth of the painted jar and landed in the fat man's empty cup.

After the cup was filled, the man slightly tilted the scroll, and the stream of water stopped.

The fat man stared in amazement. Only when the fragrance of wine hit his nose did he react. Without a second word, he downed it in one gulp, savored it, and smacked his lips. "Good wine! Good wine!"

Once this was said, the surrounding atmosphere became lively, and others began asking for a cup of this painted wine. They were not afraid of poison—this was the Lu family's grounds, after all; who would dare to cause trouble?

The white-haired man was not stingy and threw the scroll into the crowd. It was passed from table to table, and anyone who held it could simply tilt the scroll to pour out wine as if it were a real jar. It was truly miraculous.

At this point, the fat man who had drunk the wine was unsatisfied again, smacking his lips and saying, "Now that there is good wine, it would be a waste without good meat. They say dragon meat is in the sky and donkey meat is on the ground. If there were only some donkey meat to go with the wine, how wonderful that would be!"