A Healing-Themed Artist Was Matched With a Human Weapon - Chapter 2

Si Nuo jolted awake with a start. A bone-chilling cold spread through his limbs, accompanied by the familiar dizziness of oxygen deprivation.

The movement was loud enough to startle Zhang Yu, who had been busy with something, back-turned. Zhang Yu spun around just in time to see Si Nuo scramble off the bed and dash into the restroom. Zhang Yu followed instinctively, only to hear the sounds of retching from inside.

“Si Nuo, are you okay?”

It certainly didn’t sound like he was okay. Remembering how Si Nuo had just been unconscious on the bed, Zhang Yu felt a lingering fear. “Do you want to go to the hospital? Don’t push yourself!”

After Si Nuo finished vomiting, he slumped onto the floor, feeling completely drained. His skin, already deathly pale, looked almost transparent under the lights as if he might vanish at any moment.

Zhang Yu stepped inside, and seeing no response, he tentatively reached out to check Si Nuo’s breathing, his heart pounding. Fortunately, Si Nuo opened his eyes and looked at him, his voice raspy. “I’m fine. It’s better after throwing up.”

He didn’t mention that a nightmare had triggered a stomach spasm. That would have been too embarrassing.

Seeing that he could still speak, Zhang Yu’s anxiety subsided slightly. “I’ll go get you some hot water. Wait a second.” He shuffled out in his slippers and returned shortly with a warm cup. Si Nuo thanked him and took it. Once the warm water reached his stomach, he felt much better.

Zhang Yu crouched before him. “Are you really okay? Maybe we should go to the hospital.”

“No need. It’s just a side effect of the medicine. It’ll pass if I just endure it. Help me up.”

Zhang Yu complied. Back in the room, Si Nuo sat on the edge of his bed, replaying everything from his dream. The man’s gaze had been icy and devoid of warmth, yet it felt so real as if he had been looking right at him. Even now, the memory made his heart flutter with unease. That dream was far too vivid.

“You should get some more rest. Your complexion is truly terrible,” Zhang Yu insisted, worried that Si Nuo might faint again at any moment.

But Si Nuo didn’t dare sleep. He was terrified that he would fall back into that nightmare. Needing a distraction to calm his nerves, he pulled the chair over to his desk and took out his sketchbook.

He sharpened a pencil and began to draw. His mind was blank, focusing only on the mechanical movement of his wrist to steady himself. Suddenly, a shout came from behind him: “Holy! Si Nuo, who are you drawing? This looks exactly like a real person!”

The shout pulled Si Nuo back to reality. He realized, with a jolt, that he had unconsciously drawn the man from his dream. The murderous intensity in those eyes seemed ready to burst right off the paper.

“Si Nuo, you’ve been hiding this! You draw so well why didn’t you ever mention it? That punk Ren Ju thinks he’s so talented, but the garbage he draws isn’t even fit to wipe your shoes. If Old Zhao sees this, he’ll go crazy! Is this what you’re submitting for Friday?” Zhang Yu was dancing with excitement.

Si Nuo shook his head with a complicated expression. “No, I was just doodling.” As he spoke, he removed the paper from the drawing board, but just as he went to tuck it into his drawer, Zhang Yu caught his wrist. “Wait, let me admire it a bit more!”

As Zhang Yu ran off with the sketch, Si Nuo rubbed the bridge of his nose. He hadn’t expected to sketch that man so naturally. The impact of those eyes in his dream had been too powerful.

Zhang Yu stared at the drawing for a long time, becoming more convinced of its quality. “Si Nuo, have you studied this before? You’re too good! Why be so low-key? This isn’t fair!”

Si Nuo couldn’t tell him the truth, so he just smiled. “Well, you know now.”

Zhang Yu laughed, assuming Si Nuo had simply been modest and planned to shock everyone when he finally submitted his work. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. We’ll wait until we turn in the assignment and scare the hell out of them!”

Knowing Zhang Yu had misunderstood, Si Nuo didn’t correct him. He retrieved the drawing and locked it in his drawer. “I’m going to shower.”

Meanwhile, on a starship returning to the Capital Star, Guan Xingchen snapped his eyes open. The sudden ripple in his energy sent a heavy killing intent toward his aide-de-camp standing nearby.

“Your Highness, what happened?”

Guan Xingchen waved him off with a grim expression, signaling for silence. But the killing intent surrounding him did not dissipate. He knew clearly: someone had entered his dream.

As the Empire’s only 3S-grade mental powerhouse, this had never happened before. No one would be suicidal enough to spy on his mental world. But he wasn’t mistaken that person hadn’t just appeared in his dream; they had seen everything that occurred within it. Who could it be?

“Investigate whether a new 3S-grade mental powerhouse has appeared within the Empire.”

The aide did not hesitate, stepping out of the room to carry out the command. Whoever it was, intentional or not, he would find them. Guan Xingchen glared at his sword hanging in the distance; behind him, a fierce, giant fish seemed to leap from the water, emitting a low, ominous hum.

Si Nuo carried a bucket, a brush, and paints, with his drawing board strapped to his back, as he arrived at the low wall. He looked toward the fiery maple forest on the other side with anticipation.

Because of the wall, he could only see the treetops. He wanted to paint the entire forest, which meant he had to find a way over. Bringing all this gear over the wall was unrealistic, but he couldn’t just give up. It was a beautiful day, and he had everything he needed.

Although the other side was the Imperial First Military Academy, the maple forest was mostly secluded; students rarely ventured here. According to the original owner’s memories, there should be a side gate. Si Nuo followed the wall until he found a rusted, aged iron gate hidden behind some bushes. To his delight, it gave a screeching protest but actually opened.

Even Heaven is helping me. Si Nuo smiled and hopped through.

Without the wall blocking his view, the complete maple forest looked like a painting come to life. He didn’t venture too deep, worried about being discovered, but he quickly set up his board. This surge of anticipation, this yearning to create—he hadn’t felt this way in years.

He steadied his heart, looked at the forest, observed it carefully, and finally let the colors touch the paper.

Lu Cen leaned against a tree, his face deathly pale. The tearing sensation in his mental sea made him feel as though he were seconds from death. He was at a critical juncture in his advancement from A-grade to S-grade. The process was agonizing and risky many died at this exact moment.

The pain brought on by mental instability caused double vision. Feeling he couldn’t make it to the infirmary, he had collapsed halfway there.

From afar, he vaguely saw someone standing nearby. Lu Cen opened his mouth to call for help, but no sound emerged. Shaking his head, he struggled to stand. I can’t give up. My life has only just begun!

He dragged himself to where he’d seen the person, but they were gone. Only a drawing board stood by the wall. Lu Cen’s pupils shrank in despair. Then, his eyes fell upon the canvas.

It was as if his fracturing mental sea had been struck. He couldn’t tear his gaze away. The tearing pain began to subside, and his previously dark, chaotic mental sea seemed to find warmth through the colors of the painting. He had never realized how beautiful the maple forest could be. In that moment, he felt like he had stepped into the painting itself.

He forgot his pain, replaced by serenity and warmth. It was as if he were drifting in warm water, a gentle breeze kissing his face. Peaceful. Perfect.

His eyelids slowly closed. He didn’t know when he fell asleep, but when he woke, he was in the infirmary, surrounded by instructors and classmates.

“Lu Cen, you’re awake! How do you feel?”

Lu Cen was silent for a moment. He felt no pain; his fractured mental sea was calm, as if nothing had happened. More importantly, his rank had surged he was now on the verge of breaking through A-grade.

“I feel… great?” His voice was raspy and laced with disbelief.

The attending doctor smiled. “We examined you. You were in the middle of a serious mental breakdown. If your friend hadn’t saved you, you would have been in grave danger. You’re lucky. Your grade is even showing signs of a breakthrough. Here is a sedative; if this happens again, take it immediately.”

Si Nuo had been urgently summoned by Zhang Yu; apparently, “Old Zhao” was furious that no one had shown up for class and threatened to deduct credits.

He arrived panting, his throat tasting of copper, but Old Zhao was already lecturing the seven students present about their absence. “Since you didn’t attend, draw ten still-life sketches. No one leaves until they’re finished!”

The classroom erupted in complaints, but Si Nuo simply took a seat, his heart set on painting. When his turn came to hand in the work, Si Nuo quickly finished one and then “copied and pasted” the rest.

When Zhang Yu brought the stack to Old Zhao, the teacher looked at them with disbelief. He knew the level of this class, and Si Nuo was usually the least noticeable student. Yet, the proportions, lines, and shading were flawless even better than what the top student, Ren Ju, could produce.

“The drawings are excellent,” Old Zhao admitted, silencing the class. “Pass them around.”

The class was stunned. Is Si Nuo that talented? Is this natural genius?

Ren Ju gripped his pen, his eyes burning with jealousy. Impossible.

Later that evening, Zhang Yu pestered Si Nuo to show him the maple forest painting. When Si Nuo finally unfolded it, Zhang Yu stared at the vibrant colors, frozen.

“Si Nuo… this is too good. Looking at it, I feel like I’m actually standing in the forest, hearing the rustle of the leaves…”

Si Nuo chuckled. “It’s just a painting, stop over-exaggerating.” He rolled it up and stuck it in a tube.

Meanwhile, Lu Cen, back at his own dormitory, couldn’t stop thinking about the painting that had saved his life. He felt it wasn’t just a painting it was a cure. He logged onto the school’s forum and posted:

[REWARD: 20,000 for a painting of a maple forest!]

His friend stared at the screen, shocked. “You’re serious? 20,000 for a painting?”

Lu Cen looked at him solemnly. “If that painting can cure mental instability, can you even put a price on its value?”