Words, calligraphy, and paintings evolved into a complete, cage-like world, trapping the lofty immortals and Buddhas of the heavens within its bounds.
At the same time, Sun Wukong, standing by the cliffside thatched cottage, had just finished writing the final sentence. Holding the wordless Heavenly Book in one hand and the supreme writing brush in the other, he rose, stepped out of the cottage, and looked at the silenced immortals and Buddhas now imprisoned within the world of ink and brush.
He chuckled.
Chapter 453