Jiang Xun was just a food delivery rider three months behind on rent, until the blank antique painting his grandfather left him suddenly awakened and dragged him into a white world where nothing existed.
A panel told him that here, he could paint mountains, rivers, life, even an entire civilization.
The catch was that creation required source energy, and his way of getting it was a little outrageous.
While others painstakingly cultivate spiritual energy, he gets his by making people so angry they lose their composure.
While others meditate in seclusion to grasp the Dao, he casually complains about his coworkers at the delivery station and watches source energy roll in.
While others start with divine weapons and mythical beasts, he starts with a sprouting potato and somehow uses it as the foundation of his world.
Mountains and rivers, plants and trees, painted spirits, an insectoid civilization: one by one, they come to life in his painting.
Until the first painted spirits open their mouths, not to worship their god, but to complain: “God, your painting is so ugly.”
Jiang Xun looks at his skyrocketing source energy and smiles.
Great. From today on, this deity will officially build worlds by getting insulted.
But when the civilization inside the painting starts breaking out of its scroll, hidden forces come knocking, and nine original paintings appear one after another, Jiang Xun finally realizes that what his grandfather left him wasn’t an heirloom, but an entry ticket to a war between creators.
