Kent had no reason to buy the painting on a normal day.
If he wanted a painting, Blossom would have painted a beautiful one for him.
However, in his bid to find other talents aside from his three professions, he found himself in this rundown store buying a painting that wouldn't add any value to his collection if he were a collector.
His question was purely from an artist's point of view. Of course, most collectors who love to display their collections feel they need to know the inspiration behind what they buy, so they can better sell their value to others.
The Mona Lisa had an inspiration behind it, as did other famous paintings.
Kent just wanted to satiate his curiosity, so he asked, and Aysel's sister started to speak.
"This is the Dream Mountain. It is located in a village near Fractured City. Aysel and I ca from there, and this mountain happens to be right beside our house.
It was where we grew up playing, and also the haven that most of us flee to whenever there are beast tides. I only painted it because it reminds us of ho."
"I see," Kent muttered, feeling slightly better hearing the origin of the inspiration behind the painting. He wasn't fully satiated, but he seed satisfied enough to ask a second question.
"Why is one side of it broken off?" The painting in itself was diocre. However, the aning behind it seed more intriguing if one put their soul into understanding it.
The painting showed that one side was broken off, with debris falling from it. From his perspective, that detail could have been ignored without changing the painting.
However, adding it seed to hold so aning, so he asked.
This ti, it was Aysel who answered, "Big sister pushed the bad man off that section of the mountain, and it fell with him. Very bad man."
Kent turned to the young lady and smiled. He sensed her sister's hesitation to answer, so, hearing from Aysel that sothing personal had happened that triggered her when he asked, he understood.
Because of that, he chose not to ask any further questions.
He gently touched the painting, brushing his hand across the canvas to mimic the brushstrokes. He closed his eyes and moved his finger a few tis as if trying to force out where the feeling was coming from.
Seeing this, Aysel's big sister furrowed her brow.
"Do you paint?" she asked, paying close attention to how Kent was moving his hand across the painting. She was a painter, so seeing his hands move made her wonder whether Kent was one too.
"Not that I can recall," Kent replied, getting absorbed in his gesture. A few seconds later, he pulled his hand back and turned to Aysel's sister. "I only recently discovered my love for painting, so you can say I am at the budding stage, trying to find my groove."
"Why don't you give it a try? I have a fresh canvas here and a few paints."
"I wouldn't want to intrude," Kent tried to decline the offer, but Aysel reached for his hand, grabbed it, and pulled him toward the canvas.
"Big brother can try it, and if it is nice, big brother can buy it."
Kent chuckled.
How co he had to buy his own painting when he was the one who painted it? He turned and looked at Aysel's sister, but she smiled and turned away.
Looking at the two of them, it was clear she was the brain behind the painting, while the little human was the brain behind the money-making.
Kent smiled and turned to face the canvas. He didn't know if this was rely a fool's errand. However, until he managed to make sense of his newest feelings, he would not be satisfied.
He reached for the palette and the brush. This was his first ti holding these two things, but just as he touched them, a feeling of familiarity washed over him.
He lifted the brush to eye level and, just as he was about to pass it through the paint on the palette, he blacked out.
On the outside, he appeared fine. His hand began moving, picking up the paint, and he started painting. However, his senses were far gone...
In his mind, mories of a life he had lived several billion years ago were being replayed.
In that life, he was the son of a rchant and an Elven painter. Growing up, his mother doted on him so much that he spent most of his ti by her side.
As a result, he fell in love with painting at a very young age. Whenever his mom started painting, he set up shop beside her and mimicked her painting.
At first, he was terrible at it. However, as a loving mother, whatever her son painted looked beautiful in her eyes. And since he was but a kid, every praise from his mother fueled his determination to do more.
Eventually, he started to improve. By the ti he turned 10, his paintings started to sell, earning him fa and fortune.
His mother, whose main profession was painting, quit and began ntoring him, making sure his talent was put to good use.
They travelled a lot just so little Aurelion could see more and be inspired to paint beautiful things. By the ti he turned 16 and was ready to start cultivating, his na had reached thousands of worlds.
He was called a young prodigy, one who only appeared every generation. Thanks to him, their family beca powerful and wealthy, so when he started cultivating, his parents hired the most powerful immortals as his teachers.
Initially, he hated the idea of cultivating; however, when his parents told him a story about a once-legendary painter who dominated the world through his paintings, his interest was piqued.
So he started cultivating, and in no ti, his genius started to shine. He picked up everything very fast, and he never forgot anything he saw.
A few years later, when he finally reached the Core Formation stage, people from a sect called Spirit Ascension ca to take him away under the direction of a god.
His parents wanted to stop them, but after hearing he would be safe and could return once he beca an immortal, they let him go.
When he arrived at the sect, the first thing he did was look for a way to incorporate his art into his cultivation.
It took so ti, but through his search, he found Talisman Arts, and that was when his brilliance began to shine. Aurelion's imagination was vivid, and his painting was on another level. So, with this discovery, he began to create art and calligraphy that held more than just beauty.
His paintings beca more than just vivid imagination. A river painting could be manifested into a dangerous ocean using spiritual Qi.
Calligraphy of the word spear could be manifested into a deadly spear that could threaten even immortals. His cultivation surged from there, and for hundreds of years, he continued to improve.
Kent remained seated for 30 minutes, completely blacked out. However, his hands were moving as if he were conscious.
Standing behind him, Aysel's sister kept her eyes wide, her jaw hanging loose as she gazed at the painting coming to life before her.
On the canvas, a beautiful lady with a star-shattering smile was slowly coming to life. Aysel, who mostly had no interest in the painting process, even stood quietly, watching as Kent's hand moved across the canvas, adding more layers to the paint.
The beauty of it all had gotten to her.
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