Chapter 221
After this period of learning, Little Li Hua had become familiar with some ancient terms.
For instance, she understood that practicing a specific art would add “cultivator” to the term. Her brother practiced swordsmanship, so he was called a sword cultivator; Lang Ze played the flute, which was part of music cultivation, so he was called a music cultivator.
However, she didn’t quite understand what “Buddhist cultivation” meant, which the little Lion practiced—and it seemed even Ran Lie himself didn’t fully know.
So, when Su Su mentioned art cultivation, Xiao Lihua’s eyes lit up, and she asked eagerly, “Su Su, are you going to teach me how to draw?”
“Mm,” Su Ci nodded, but then shook his head. “To become an art cultivator, you need advanced drawing skills, but it doesn’t stop there.”
Little Li Hua looked at Su Ci, puzzled.
At that moment, the little sparrow, drawn by their conversation, flew over and perched on Little Li Hua’s shoulder. It asked curiously, “What can an art cultivator do? Are they powerful?”
“The greatest skill of an art cultivator is the ability to bring what they draw to life,” Su Ci explained.
He took Little Li Hua’s sketchbook, turned to a blank page, and, after a moment’s thought, picked up her brush.
With just a few strokes, he brought several butterflies to life on the paper. His style wasn’t hyper-realistic, but it was unmistakable, exuding a unique charm.
Little Li Hua instantly fell in love with the drawing, unable to look away.
Then, under her gaze, the beautiful butterflies on the paper began to move. Once Su Ci lifted his brush, they flapped their wings and flew off the page.
Little Li Hua thought her eyes were playing tricks on her.
She rubbed them, then opened them again to see that the butterflies were indeed flying off the paper, fluttering around her like real, living creatures.
The butterflies were small, no larger than her palm, their delicate size making them appear especially adorable compared to the giant butterflies in the Valley of Enchanted Flowers.
“They’re so beautiful!” Little Li Hua exclaimed in awe.
At the same time, she noticed that the page Su Ci had drawn on had turned back into blank paper.
These butterflies weren’t an illusion—they were truly manifested from the drawing.
The adults nearby, including Yan Ya and Wen Yan, were equally stunned. Despite having witnessed many of Su Ci’s miraculous abilities, they couldn’t help being amazed once again.
How many abilities did this Su Ci possess? He seemed like an endless treasure trove. More importantly, he was so generous, willingly imparting his knowledge to the younglings.
And the only condition he set? For the children to transform the planet.
Though it sounded daunting, he hadn’t set a time limit, and the task wasn’t for one child alone. It was clear that the younglings were getting the better end of the deal.
Exchanging glances, the adults quietly observed, careful not to disturb the lesson.
Meanwhile, Little Li Hua wasn’t burdened by such complicated thoughts. She extended her finger, letting a butterfly land gently on its tip.
Looking at the butterfly’s vibrant wings and intricately detailed body, she held her breath, afraid it might fly away.
Then, Su Ci waved his hand. The butterflies, previously fluttering aimlessly, flew toward Little Li Hua.
They surrounded her, dancing in intricate patterns under Su Ci’s guidance. To Little Li Hua’s amazement, they grabbed hold of her clothes and began lifting her into the air.
Little Li Hua felt her feet leave the ground. It was as if she were flying.
“Wow~!”
Little Li Hua exclaimed with delight.
The younglings playing on the plains finally noticed the commotion. Rong Heng, who had been fishing by the river, was the first to run back.
Of course, with Su Su and Brother A-Yan around, he wasn’t worried about his sister being in any danger.
He gazed at Little Li Hua, who was being lifted into the air by the butterflies, and couldn’t help but be amazed—let alone Mu Bao, who had just arrived at the nursery.
“Where did those butterflies come from? They’re so beautiful!” Lu Jiao said.
Lang Ze, who had been talking to Zheng Xing at the cabin window, quickly pulled Zheng Xing along as he dashed over when he saw the butterflies.
“They’re amazing!”
The butterflies carried Little Li Hua about 20–30 centimeters into the air, seeming to reach their limit, and then gently set her back down on the ground.
Spotting a pale-yellow butterfly, the little wolf cub seized the moment and leaped toward it.
Zheng Xing, pulled along behind him, tilted his head in confusion. In his perception, he couldn’t “see” any butterflies, but he could sense small energy clusters in the air, imbued with Su Su’s aura.
Meanwhile, back on the ground, Little Li Hua, seeing Lang Ze chasing a butterfly, quickly forgot her disappointment. Placing her hands on her hips, she shouted angrily, “Lang Ze, don’t hurt the butterflies!”
Such delicate and beautiful creatures couldn’t possibly withstand Lang Ze’s rough play!
But her yell came too late.
The jumping wolf cub had already caught his target. As he landed and opened his hand, though, there was no butterfly in his palm.
Little Li Hua, worried, grabbed his hand and looked. She didn’t see any butterfly either, but she did notice a smear of paint on Lang Ze’s palm.
Blinking in confusion, she turned to Su Ci.
Su Ci smiled faintly and waved his hand. The remaining butterflies, still fluttering in the air, returned to him and landed back on the paper, reverting into a drawing.
Sharp-eyed Little Li Hua quickly noticed that one butterfly was missing.
The little sparrow perched on her shoulder flapped its wings, hopped onto the sketchbook, and began counting. “There’s one less than before,” it confirmed.
The younglings all turned to Lang Ze, who was staring at his hand. “So, those butterflies were from a painting? They weren’t real?”
Su Ci nodded, looking at Little Li Hua. “That’s the power of manifestation through painting. Do you want to learn it?”
Hearing this, Little Li Hua immediately beamed and nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! I want to learn!”
She ran to Su Ci’s side, her voice sweet as she pleaded, “I want to be an art cultivator. I’ll work really hard at farming too, so please teach me, Su Su!”
Already passionate about drawing, Little Li Hua couldn’t possibly refuse after seeing such an incredible ability.
Su Ci ruffled her fluffy ears and agreed with a smile.
The other younglings watched from the sidelines. While they were tempted after witnessing the display, they remembered their existing training and held back their desires.
After all, Su Su often said, “Don’t bite off more than you can chew.” Still, watching was definitely entertaining!
So, with the younglings eagerly watching, Little Li Hua began her first lesson in art cultivation with Su Ci.
What started as a simple autumn outing quickly turned into an art class.
Of course, before the outing ended, the younglings had the chance to enjoy A-Yan’s cooking, leaving the plains reluctantly but with full bellies as they returned to the nursery.
By the evening, Mu Yuncheng, who had spent the day with Zhang Mi and the others, finally arrived at the nursery, escorted by the base staff.
His extended absence had a very significant reason—he had shared the monumental news with the Base 24 team:
“Prison Star is the origin of interstellar humanity, the mother planet of all humans.”
The mother planet was already a distant memory for most, and no one expected Mu Yuncheng to deliver such a shocking piece of news. Yet, almost no one could reconcile Prison Star with the mother planet described in historical records.
When interstellar humans left the mother planet, they preserved some records, including not only texts but also precious photos and videos.
Even though tens of thousands of years have passed, with many records lost or damaged due to time and upheaval, some materials survived.
While some of these records are privately held by powerful families, a significant portion is publicly accessible to all interstellar humans. In fact, some nations have even made the history of the mother planet a mandatory part of basic education.
Moreover, most people at Base 24 come from military backgrounds, where knowledge of the mother planet’s history is emphasized as an essential part of their education. Many could recall its historical depictions vividly.
The mother planet was described as a beautiful blue planet—a far cry from Prison Star, shrouded in blood mist. The two seemed utterly unrelated.
Mu Yuncheng had to patiently explain.
“If the mother planet were still the same as it was, humanity wouldn’t have needed to flee tens of thousands of years ago, would they? And after all this time, isn’t it only natural that the mother planet has changed?”
Despite his reasoning, few were convinced.
This skepticism could be traced back to the way interstellar history had been taught. While it was true that humanity’s ancestors fled the mother planet because it became uninhabitable, some sought to frame this narrative in a more palatable way.
As a result, various theories arose about why interstellar humans left the mother planet. Eventually, the exploration faction overtook the escape faction as the dominant narrative.
Military academies, in particular, favored the exploration faction’s perspective: humanity’s great ancestors left the mother planet not out of desperation, but in pursuit of resources and exploration among the stars.
“Escape” sounded undignified and unheroic.
Thus, no one wanted to believe that Prison Star could be humanity’s mother planet.
Mu Yuncheng had spoken impulsively in his excitement, but when he realized no one believed him, he became more insistent.
Recalling his ancestor’s instructions, he resolutely invoked Mu Qing’s name.
He trusted that, even if the elder disliked appearing before others, Mu Qing would be willing to step forward for such an important cause.
After all, if Prison Star was indeed the mother planet, it was the duty of the Wood Clan to restore its name and honor.
While Zhang Mi and others didn’t know who Mu Qing was, the agricultural experts from the cultivation facility, such as Wu Yunqin, were well aware of the legendary figure.
For them, Mu Qing was more of a myth than a reality—until now. When Mu Yuncheng mentioned him, the experts were dumbfounded.
“Wait… are you saying that he… is still alive?” Wu Yunqin asked cautiously.
Mu Yuncheng smiled and nodded.
Even though Mu Qing had not appeared publicly in interstellar society for a long time, his legend persisted.
When Wu Yunqin tried to ask for more details about Mu Qing’s whereabouts, Mu Yuncheng simply replied, “You’ve already seen him today, haven’t you?”
At first, Wu Yunqin was confused. But as she recalled the earlier scene when they had gone to meet Mu Yuncheng, her eyes widened in realization. She shot to her feet.
“You mean… that giant tree?”
“Exactly,” Mu Yuncheng confirmed.
Beside them, Zhang Mi was utterly baffled. “What are you even talking about? Are you saying that massive tree is actually… a person?”
She voiced her disbelief out loud.
“No, not a person,” Wu Yunqin replied.
Zhang Mi heaved a sigh of relief, only for the typically rational cultivation facility director to add gravely, “It’s a demon.”
Zhang Mi: “…?”
