I Just Wanted to Teach Cultivation, But Goddesses Keep Coming!

Chapter 294: Chapter 294 I’m Only Touching You to Stabilize Your Soul!

Every stroke had been deliberate, every shade precise. When Daoist Falling Snow finally laid down her brush, she felt a quiet pride welling inside her.

Her sword, gleaming in silver and radiating intent, looked every bit the masterpiece she had envisioned.

Then her gaze fell upon Lin Feng’s creation.

Shock flashed across her features, quickly followed by disbelief and then, unexpectedly, amusement.

Out of everything she could have imagined, she had never expected to see this.

He had drawn… a stick chicken.

It was crude. Awkward. Barely resembling the graceful forms of the world. Every line was simple, almost childlike, lacking any trace of technique or finesse.

Daoist Falling Snow’s eyes widened, her mind racing. His complete ignorance of art… it’s obvious to an absurd degree!

And yet, beneath the shock, a tiny, grudging smile tugged at her lips.

She had prepared for skill, technique, intent, even hidden meaning. But this… this bold, carefree defiance of all expectation… it was infuriating and, somehow, strangely satisfying.

A moment of tense silence passed, and then Daoist Falling Snow, her pride still intact and her confidence unwavering, stepped forward and formally claimed her victory.

“I suppose that means I’ve won, Master Lin Feng,” Daoist Falling Snow said, a faint, self-satisfied smile curling her lips. She stood tall, her composure immaculate, her aura radiating pride.

After all, it had been a flawless performance… ten minutes of uninterrupted focus, every stroke deliberate, every shade meticulously placed.

Her silver sword shimmered on the canvas, its edges sharp enough to sever the air itself.

It radiated sword intent so potent that it seemed to breathe, to move, as though the weapon were no mere painting but a living, formidable blade ready to strike.

And yet… Lin Feng’s canvas sat before them like a mockery of art itself.

A stick chicken.

It was crude. Absurd. Comically simple. A tiny circle for the head, a larger circle for the body, two straight lines for legs, and two dots for eyes. That was it.

No shading, no detail, no intent, no hidden secrets. A child could have drawn it in moments and apparently, so had Lin Feng.

“And why is that?” Lin Feng said, his tone calm and measured, almost casual, as he leaned slightly forward. “I can’t see anything that makes your painting any better than mine.”

Daoist Falling Snow’s brows shot up, her lips parting in disbelief.

He can’t be serious!

“Are you playing dumb, Master Lin Feng?” she snapped, voice rising slightly in both shock and irritation. “My painting alone could allow a cultivator to study sword intent in mere days! Every stroke, every nuance, every gradient of shadow carries a meaning, a lesson in power, precision, and flow! And more than that… I hid a secret technique within it! The Absolute Frost Sword Technique! Crafted entirely by my hand! This is one of my finest creations! Countless cultivators have bowed at my feet for years, all desperate for even the smallest glimpse of this technique!”

Lin Feng blinked slowly, unbothered by her fury, as if he had expected it all along. “I can see that, of course,” he said softly. “The sword intent is impressive. The secret technique is… commendable. But I maintain my position… it is still much lacking compared to what I painted.”

The words hung in the air like a blade.

Daoist Falling Snow froze mid-breath, her mind spinning.

Lacking? Lacking?! she thought, gripping the edges of her sleeve. He’s claiming that a stick chicken surpasses one of the most complex, painstakingly crafted masterpiece paintings in existence?

The spectators were equally stunned. Tang Aining blinked, her mouth barely moving as she processed the audacity of his claim.

Li Zhiyan’s eyebrows shot skyward, her jaw slack, while Ye Jian’s eyes narrowed in confusion and disbelief.

Even Daoist Falling Snow, proud and formidable, felt her composure falter for a heartbeat. She had expected arrogance, yes… but this? This was audacious to the point of madness!

Yet Lin Feng’s demeanor never wavered. He leaned back, serene, almost playful, as though he were watching a butterfly land on a blade.

“Look closely,” he said quietly, though loud enough for all to hear. “There’s more to my work than meets the eye. Many are blinded by detail and technique, forgetting that art… true art is about perception, intent, and the ability to see beyond the surface.”

Daoist Falling Snow blinked.

Intent? Beyond the surface? She stared at the stick chicken as if it might suddenly grow wings and fly, as if some hidden layer of genius would suddenly reveal itself. But there was nothing.

No shading, no technique, no hidden sword intent. Just… a stick chicken.

Daoist Falling Snow tried to focus harder, scrutinizing the stick chicken with all her skill, searching desperately for hidden meanings or secret techniques buried within its crude lines.

The other women Tang Aining, Li Zhiyan, and Ye Jian did the same, each silently willing the absurd drawing to reveal some hidden depth.

If the young master says there’s something worthy about his painting… then there must be, Li Zhiyan thought, her eyes narrowing as she tried to discern any clue.

Ye Jian and Tang Aining mirrored her thoughts. After all, they had already witnessed the many miracles Lin Feng was capable of.

They spent more than a minute examining, contemplating, and probing but found nothing. The stick chicken remained, on the surface, hilariously simple and absurd.

It was then that Lin Feng, seeing their fruitless efforts, could no longer suppress his amusement or his desire to teach them the true way to see.

“You don’t perceive things with your eyes alone,” he said calmly, stepping forward, his voice both gentle and commanding. “To truly appreciate something, you must see it with your heart. Let me make it easier for you.”

With that, he approached his canvas, palms opening slowly as he whispered under his breath…

“Ten million epochs to hatch… one breath to burn the world.” The air around the training ground quivered, then roared to life.