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

Chapter 295: Chapter 295 Kneading the Jade Peaks to Soften the Heart Demon

Heat radiated outward, rising exponentially, making the hairs on everyone’s arms stand on end.

The canvas itself seemed to shimmer and warp, the simple stick chicken trembling as if infused with some unimaginable force.

Then, before their very eyes, the impossible happened.

What had seemed like a crude, childish doodle suddenly erupted with unimaginable energy.

The stick chicken glowed with chaotic, primordial essence, surging with raw power, twisting and writhing as though the very air around it trembled in fear and awe.

The simple, laughable lines of the drawing… two stick legs, a round body, two dots for eyes were no longer mere marks on canvas.

They had become the seed of creation itself, a living projection of Lin Feng’s mastery and intent, infused with a depth and force that no ordinary cultivator could hope to comprehend, let alone replicate.

The spectators froze. Hearts thumped violently, breaths caught in their throats, and eyes widened to their limits.

In an instant, the little chicken erupted into a majestic phoenix, its flames roaring like the birth of a sun.

The fiery feathers shimmered in every hue of molten gold and crimson, stretching skyward until the massive bird seemed taller than this world’s mightiest pavilions.

Its wings unfurled, casting a shadow over everyone present, and a regal cry tore through the air, resonating like a gong struck in the heavens themselves.

The flames licked the air, warm and yet awe-inspiring, radiating power that made even seasoned cultivators take a cautious step back.

The phoenix’s eyes, brilliant and intelligent, fixed on Lin Feng. Every line, every motion, conveyed reverence and recognition.

It bowed its flaming head toward him, as if acknowledging him not only as its master but as the creator of its very being.

The ground beneath them seemed to hum with latent energy, and for a brief, infinite moment, the world itself seemed to hold its breath.

Then, almost impossibly, the phoenix began to shrink.

The massive blaze of wings and fire condensed, compressing into itself until it became a small, plump chicken, now perched delicately on Lin Feng’s shoulder.

Its tiny eyes blinked innocently, and a soft chirp betrayed none of the grandeur and power it had just embodied.

The contrast was so extreme that for a moment, the spectators couldn’t even reconcile the small creature before them with the infernal phoenix they had just witnessed.

“I guess I have to take care of you from now on, don’t I?” Lin Feng said casually, rubbing the chicken’s head.

His tone was calm, almost teasing, as though creating life from a simple drawing were as ordinary as sipping tea.

Everyone around him was utterly speechless. Their gazes darted from the empty canvas to the little chicken, still alive, still breathing, perched upon Lin Feng’s shoulder as if it had always been there.

The impossible had just occurred before their very eyes.

Daoist Falling Snow’s normally icy composure cracked slightly, her sharp eyes wide with shock. She took a small step forward, her mind racing.

To create life… from a simple painting… the very laws of cultivation, the heavens themselves, and the flow of energy… he has bent them all with nothing but a brush and intent. This… this is beyond comprehension!

Her thoughts churned with disbelief, awe, and a twinge of fear.

She had faced countless prodigies, countless treasures, and cultivators of terrifying skill but she had never encountered something like this.

Not only had Lin Feng broken the rules of art, he had broken the rules of reality itself.

Tang Aining’s hands trembled slightly as she held herself back from reaching out to the tiny chicken.

Her heart pounded, her mind echoing a single thought over and over.

This… this is real. He didn’t just draw it. He made it live.

Li Zhiyan’s face was pale, her usual confidence shaken to its core. “To create life… from mere paint and ink…” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “This isn’t just skill… this is legend.”

Ye Jian could only stare, her mouth slightly open. Even the air around them seemed to have thickened under the weight of what had just occurred.

Daoist Falling Snow, ever the strategist, quickly masked her shock with a veil of composure, though her mind was racing.

If this is only a glimpse of what he can do with something as simple as a stick chicken… what else is he capable of?

All at once, the courtyard was silent, the only sound being the soft chirping of the little chicken and the crackle of residual energy lingering in the air.

Everyone understood, without a word, that they had just witnessed something utterly extraordinary, something that would be spoken of in hushed tones for years to come.

Lin Feng turned his gaze toward Daoist Falling Snow, a sly, teasing smile tugging at his lips.

His eyes gleamed with that unmistakable spark of mischief, the kind that could make even the most composed cultivators uneasy.

“I guess I’ve got myself a capable massage artist at my beck and call,” he said, his voice light but carrying an undeniable command. “Come on, Daoist Falling Snow… let me see if your hands are as skilled at massaging my body as they are at painting masterpieces.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond. With effortless confidence, he strolled across the courtyard, the little chicken on his shoulder chirping in soft approval, as though it understood the joke before anyone else.

Lin Feng entered his chambers and settled comfortably, reclining slightly, his mind still teasing with amusement.

Normally, he would have spent the afternoon playing games and cooking rice with Su Muyao, savoring those peaceful, simple moments.

But today was proving anything but ordinary. Fate seemed determined to surprise him at every turn, presenting one astonishing twist after another.

Daoist Falling Snow’s eyes narrowed, her pride pricked and her composure challenged. She had always been confident in her skills, whether in combat, cultivation, or art but this… this was a completely new arena.

She could feel the heat of frustration rising in her chest, mingled with something she wasn’t used to.

“Is he… going to ask me for something more than just a simple massage?” Daoist Falling Snow mused inwardly, a faint tremor running through her composure as the thought made her pulse quicken.