“It’s been so long since I’ve had a proper rest like this. Seems like if this kind of life were to calmly continue, that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. “

“If you really think that way, then just hand over all your timing threads to me. “

“Haha, I was just joking. “

He Yishu and Xue Qi joked and laughed, playfighting on the deck of the oil tanker, while Yang Zicang fondly watched them.

If this kind of life were to continue, it would be a kind of beauty indeed.

He gazed at the endless cerulean waves beyond the ship’s railing as, hours later, a storm belt appeared at the edge of the sky.

The clanging sound of an iron plate rang out on the second deck of the oil tanker. A sailor loudly called for everyone to enter their rooms, as they were about to cross a storm belt—this wasn’t the final storm belt heading toward land, but rather a route to another lighthouse supply station in the misty sea. There, newcomers who couldn’t make their way overland as Crossing People would board this shuttle to continue to the next stop before eventually returning to land.

“In the past, this ship was packed full every trip, and sometimes quite a few conflicts would break out. “

Inside the cabin, an old man distributing a fruit salad to Yang Zicang said in not-so-standard Chinese.

“Those people, for the sake of your so-called ‘Radiance,’ would seize every chance to stir up trouble. “

His words carried a hint of resentment.

Yang Zicang smiled at the old man who was handing out bread. But what he said had a point—if you looked into anything that caught your eye, following the thread might lead to unpredictable outcomes. And the so-called ‘Glorious Light’ likely clashed into being in such states, one way or another.

“President Buchen, I’ve asked around for you—you can rent a small cabin here, ” a familiar-looking man said as he walked over in the cabin.

“Asked around for me? “

“Yeah, ” the man replied matter-of-factly. “I’m Old Thirteen, Anxi. It’s a shame the room is even more cramped than our last ship. And once our trip is over, this room will automatically expire. “

He actually asked about it for me? This guy, he couldn’t be planning to use this to create some “Glory Light ” story between us two, could he?

After leaving the inn, at least the “fellow travelers and brothers ” had all witnessed Yang Zicang’s abilities. He might not be the strongest among those who came to Earth from here, but he was absolutely the top tier among this group of over twenty people.

An Xi also thought to himself that on the road, he would try to establish some incidental connections with Yang Zicang, so that if he could snag a share of Glorious Radiance, it would be a real bargain.

“Thank you, friend. “

“No need, no need. President Buchen, if there’s anything you need, please just say the word. “

Although he knew this guy was trying to latch onto any potential Glory Light in the making, hearing him speak so warmly, Yang Zicang couldn’t help feeling a growing mellowed warmth inside.

The thing he had once been thinking about could actually be tested during the two-day sea voyage, after all, the earlier you start, the harder it is to miss out.

“Come to think of it, I do have one matter. “

“What kind of matter? ” An Xi’s mouth burst open with joy.

“I’m looking for someone. “

-｛—Radiancer Core: Golden Emerald shows that Distributor February. Dian is monitoring the tiny prelude of glorious light I am gestating within.｝

Yang Zicang’s heart stirred slightly. Dian really never gives up, does he, persistent as a ghost.

But wait—does this mean this matter might actually be capable of birthing a Glory Light?

Although the name sounds pretty mighty, right now, it sure seems the actual performance is nowhere near as rare or highbrow.

“Excuse me. ” A person squeezed past the two of them.

Yang Zicang, who had been leaning against the staircase, straightened up and stepped aside, then resumed rolling a jet-black coin resembling obsidian between his fingers, scanning the bustling figures scattered across the cabin, some lying down, others sitting.

A man in a turban was writing in a journal; two pointy-eared natives were playing poker—they were likely Crossing People or subordinate personnel from the Maritime Bureau leaving on the ship—and a woman was touching up her makeup, clearly a relic brought over from some old Track of Fate.

“Good fellows. “

Yang Zicang called out without raising his voice. His voice cut through the cabin’s hum, and Anxi, who had just begun to nurture a flicker of anticipation, froze as he saw several people nearby turn to look.

The President moves that fast?he thought.

Pocketing the Void-Chronos Coin, Yang Zicang continued, “I can offer some chronos to commission a portrait. Around three to five thousand—up to ten thousand years. Any takers here? “

“Ten thousand years, huh? How much chronos did you bring up, friend? “

“Just look at this! Look! “

The old man who had just walked to the entrance of the passageway with a lunch box in hand turned his head with an exasperated grunt.

“I was the one who tipped you off, wasn’t I! You Fogfolk are always itching to make trouble! Ah, forget it. “

Those nearby caught the old man’s allusion and burst into laughter; the two cronies elbowed him, urging him to scram before he butted in any further.

“Painting who—yourself, or someone else? ” The crowd was starting to take an interest.

“It’s a portrait that will be described solely by word of mouth, ” Yang Zicang said. “The more lifelike it is, the higher the fee. “

“So what you mean is—you want to find someone who can paint, to capture your own face or the likenesses of your family back home? “

Xue Qi, who had been drinking water, quickly wrapped an arm around Hua Mi, who still wanted to watch the commotion, and dragged her away from the cabin. “What are you looking at? Let’s go rent a room; who knows how long this ship is going to be delayed. “

Some people crowded around Yang Zicang.

“Does it just need to be recognizable as a person, or— “

“I’ve studied a few days of sketching, brother. Let me do it; I guarantee I can refine it for you until it’s right. “

Their eyes burned with intensity.

“It has to be truly lifelike. At the very least, after one glance, one should be able to recognize the real person on sight. “

“That face owe you money or something? ” one man sneered acidly. The crowd around him burst into raucous laughter.

Yang Zicang shot him a glance. “I hope you weren’t from the city cluster I came from. “

“Ha, what a cocky bastard. Look at him, look at him, just some— “

“Get lost. Don’t use this as a chance to stir up trouble. ” The “brothers ” who had come out of the inn together immediately converged from all directions in the cabin toward the troublemaker, who instantly shut his mouth and bolted for the corridor leading to the adjacent cabin section.

From the crowd, a young man wearing a beret and holding a sketchbook under his arm squeezed his way over. “Let me do it. I’ve actually studied sketching properly. “

This job wasn’t something just anyone could take on. The onlookers could only watch as the young man spread open his sketchbook and asked about the specific details of the drawing.

“Big, round eyes, a young man with a crew cut, about eighteen or nineteen years old. “

“Like this? ” The man quickly sketched out a rough outline.

“Yeah, that looks a bit like him, but the chin needs to be a little longer. Oh, and his eyes are very striking. “

The crowd gathered around, watching the birth of this sketch. After seeing this, some people began to miss their own families. Now that they had seen the beret-wearing kid did indeed have some real skill, the spot instantly turned into a bustling, continuous live sketch session where portrait requests kept rolling in.

Anxi couldn’t help but sigh in admiration, “So this is our President—how easily he found even a faint possibility where -Radiance could be born.” But then he couldn’t help thinking, this probably had nothing to do with him. He wasn’t without resentment, wondering, how could I possibly find such an opportunity -Radiance, naturally and with such ease, the way our President does?

-｛Distributor February. Di’an gave a Favorable Review on the nurturing state of -Radiance.｝

About an hour later, Yang Zicang returned to the narrow little cabin he had just rented.

He sat on the edge of the bed, examining the portrait in his hand under the light of the wall lamp. He had asked everyone on the crew deck earlier. While everyone agreed the drawing was good, not a single person had seen this boy before.

“Hong Haocheng… “

The lines on the paper bore a rather good likeness to the boy, capturing about seventy or eighty percent of his features.

He tried to get the young sketch artist to modify it again, but the latter refused and instead proactively reduced the initial quote of five thousand temporal credits to three thousand, claiming it was a thank-you for the business opportunity he had provided.

In truth, he just wanted things settled as they were so he could continue earning more temporal credits.

“Ah, let’s leave it at that. “

Thump, thump, thump!

The knock abruptly broke the stillness of the room.

“Who is it? ” Yang Zicang looked toward the sliding door.

“I am a painter, ” came the voice from outside, tinged with a hint of urgency.

“I heard that you were looking for someone to paint a portrait. Although I am an oil painter, if you are willing, I can create a far superior piece for you, Mr. President. “

Even the term “Mr. President ” had found its way from those louts—clearly, they must have been doing quite some digging about him earlier.

Yang Zicang got up and slid open the horizontal door. Outside stood a man in a worn-out coat—the kind of clothing clearly scavenged from abandoned cities, completely drained of all its “essence” and vitality.

“A true painter? “

The man nodded with a shabby, self-deprecating smile.

“Come on in. “

“If you allow me, I can bring you a genuine work of art. Oil paintings not only delicately capture facial features but also convey an atmosphere brimming with emotion. “

As if desperately eager to secure this commission, the man came in and began gesturing awkwardly with his hands in front of his chest, saying:

“Then it won’t just be a painting—it will be the telling of a story. You can understand that, can’t you? “

The sight of him reminded Yang Zicang of Teacher Chen.

“I don’t need those heirloom-level treasures,” Yang Zicang emphasized, “I just need people to see the portrait and immediately recognize whether they have seen him or not. By the way, what do you do?“

“My surname is Zeng. I used to be the owner of a private studio, but later my paintings all became demons,” Zeng Qingyan said with a bitter smile. “Ah, let’s not talk about that. Because of this, even my models have the effect of making the image more stable and detailed.“

Even the models were connected to painting! Yang Zicang immediately pulled the door closed.