The Elusive Essence of Painting a Tiger

While Zhou You slept soundly at home, something was also happening in the Inner Court of Jianxiong Martial Arts School.

Wang Jianxiong wore loose, light casual clothes and held a lidded teacup in both hands.

Though lean, his bones and muscles were robust, and he walked with the force of a tiger charging through the wind.

His narrow eyes were sharp. When he looked at people, he seemed like a fierce tiger eyeing its prey, with flashes of brilliance occasionally gleaming within them.

It was said that this was the change in bearing brought about by practicing the Tiger Subduing Fist. His aura was vicious and devoid of human warmth, making his disciples both revere and fear him.

"Master, this is a gift sent by Commander Chen. They say it was a famous painting confiscated while wiping out a mountain stronghold."

Two disciples held the scroll at either end and slowly unfurled a tiger painting before him.

The painting depicted a fierce tiger descending the mountain, making the forests tremble and all beasts bow in submission.

The great tiger was incomparably savage. Every strand of its raised fur resembled a steel needle, and even the barbs on its bright red tongue had been rendered with crystal clarity.

Staring at the painting, one could practically smell the bloody stench rushing straight at them—the scent possessed only by man-eating tigers.

The two disciples holding the scroll immediately broke out in goosebumps.

"It truly is the work of a master."

A tall and elegant young man stood nearby. He was Qi Fengzhang, Wang Jianxiong's second disciple.

He clasped his hands toward Wang Jianxiong. "Congratulations, Master, on obtaining such a treasure of ink and brush."

Commander Chen had been Wang Jianxiong's friend since their youth. He was stationed at a military camp outside Gongliang City, guarding the region.

These were troubled times, and bandits in the mountains had suddenly multiplied, frequently harassing passing merchants and travelers.

Commander Chen led more than a thousand elite soldiers under his command on campaigns of encirclement and suppression, killing until heads rolled like balls and streams ran red.

While searching the bandits' stolen goods, he had unexpectedly obtained this painting. Since it suited Wang Jianxiong's path of cultivation, he had ordered a swift rider to deliver it to the city overnight.

The gift was valuable, and the sentiment even more so!

Wang Jianxiong stroked his beard. "Old Chen still remembers this old friend of his."

He beckoned to his disciple. "Fengzhang, you were born into a prestigious family and possess considerable insight into painting. Come look at it with me."

Qi Fengzhang was a direct-line descendant of the Qi Family, a great clan within the city. Among Wang Jianxiong's disciples, he had both the highest birth and the greatest talent.

Not yet thirty years old, he had already cultivated the advanced Tiger Subduing Fist art, the Jade Tiger Skill, to the verge of breaking through the Bronze Tiger level.

Within the Inner Court, this achievement alone stood at the very pinnacle.

One had to know that Lu Qiang, the eldest disciple who oversaw the Outer Court, was Old Master Wang's trusted confidant, raised by his side since childhood. Even now, he was only at the Iron Tiger level.

Unfortunately, given his status and family background, he was destined to be unable to inherit the martial arts school's legacy and would surely return to his Lineage in the future.

"Master, the eight great masters of painting recognized by the world are divided into the Four Southern Masters and the Northern Four Families."

"The Four Southern Masters excel at flowers, birds, insects, and fish, while the Northern Four Families specialize in landscapes and rare beasts. Each has its own strengths, and all have reached the summit of perfection."

"As far as I know, Han Yushou of the Northern Four Families is most skilled at painting tigers. The tiger in this painting possesses remarkable spirit. Could it have come from his hand?"

Qi Fengzhang examined the signature again and nodded. "Yes. I am eighty percent certain."

Yet Wang Jianxiong suddenly let out a hearty laugh. "You are mistaken."

Han Yushou was a legendary figure in the world of ink and brush.

In his early years, he excelled at all manner of rare and exotic beasts. His artistry was refined and exquisite, until a single painting was worth a thousand gold and impossible to obtain.

In middle age, he suffered an accident. While traveling alone through deep mountains in search of inspiration, he lost his footing and fell into an abyss.

Unexpectedly, there was a tiger's den at the bottom of that abyss, and within it was a starving pregnant tigress.

Armed with a sharp stone, he confronted the tigress for three days and three nights. Only after his entire body had been drained of strength did he find an opportunity to escape.

After surviving that brush with death, his temperament changed drastically. He abandoned many of his techniques and devoted himself wholly to painting tigers.

He even changed his name to Han Yushou, meaning: solitary coldness, a superfluous old fool.

By his old age, Han Yushou's mastery of painting tigers had entered the realm of transformation. It was said that the Prime Minister had specifically exempted his hometown from three years of taxes just to ask him for a painting.

Once the Tiger Painting was completed and unrolled before the gathered crowd, a single roar from it frightened countless guests until their faces turned pale.

That painting still hung in the Prime Minister's residence, a treasure guarding the estate and protected by heavily armed soldiers.

If this Tiger Descending the Mountain Painting truly were Han Yushou's authentic work, even calling it worth a thousand gold would be an understatement. To say it was priceless would not be excessive.

"Sadly, it is not!"

With a trace of regret, Wang Jianxiong said, "When I was young, I was fortunate enough to be present and see Han Yushou's authentic work."

"The spirit and true meaning within his paintings were lofty and unfathomable, like the pale moon hanging in the heavens—visible from afar, yet forever beyond reach."

"Compared with it, this painting is at most the clumsy imitation of a babbling infant. It lacks all proper form."

Qi Fengzhang was still unwilling to give up. Calligraphy, painting, and seal carving were inseparable arts, and the seal on the painting clearly bore Han Yushou's mark.

By the usual methods of authenticating calligraphy and paintings, examining the signature and seal accounted for more than half the judgment of authenticity.

"Han Yushou had an eccentric temperament. In his later years, he no longer adhered to seals, instead leaving his name through a few lines of verse beside his paintings."

"Most of the so-called authentic works circulating on the market are merely attributed pieces, with seals and signatures forged in his name."

Wang Jianxiong clicked his tongue in admiration as he studied it, then sighed at the scroll.

"Though this painting is not authentic, it still came from a skilled hand and is worth a great deal. Hang it on the wall!"

Old Master Wang closed his eyes, recalling the tiger's aura in the painting, then suddenly stepped forward twice.

His withered, lean frame instantly erupted with astonishing momentum.

From his tailbone upward, through his lumbar vertebrae and then his cervical vertebrae, his entire great dragon of a spine seemed to awaken from hibernation.

The skin on his body, which resembled the bark of a dead tree, instantly looked as if it had been brushed with a layer of silver paint, like a statue cast from pure silver.

As Wang Jianxiong inhaled and exerted force, mottled, interwoven golden patterns surfaced across his silver skin.

Silver body, golden patterns—it was unmistakably the process of advancing from Silver Tiger to Golden Tiger.

As the head of the school, Old Master Wang had attained the highest realm in the Jade Tiger Skill: the Silver Tiger level.

Now, inspired by the painting before him, he had accumulated strength over many years and unleashed it in a burst, carrying decades of cultivation as he charged toward the Golden Tiger level.

How could all things in the world possibly go as one wished...

The tiger in the painting seemed to be affected. Its raised fur became even more ferocious and savage, but after only a moment, it dimmed once more.

Qi Fengzhang's eyes widened. Simply by observing a painting, one could gain enlightenment?

In that brief instant, Wang Jianxiong's cultivation had risen another level.

Just as he marveled, he heard Old Master Wang sigh faintly. "The true meaning in the painting is still lacking a little heat."

The momentum that had just erupted fell from a cliff, vanishing like an ebbing tide in the blink of an eye.

The gold and silver upon his body also faded at a visible speed.

Wang Jianxiong sighed repeatedly. If only the painting before him had been Han Yushou's authentic work.

That had been a once-in-a-thousand-years opportunity. He could have ridden the momentum in one go and returned to the Golden Tiger level.

However, the painter's realm had been far too distant from perfection. The tiger's aura was slightly lacking, causing him to fall short at the final step.

"This is fate. It cannot be forced."

Wang Jianxiong shook his head, looking thoroughly dispirited.

"Master, this disciple will certainly send people to find an authentic work by Han Yushou for you."

Wang Jianxiong thought to himself that it was easier said than done. The Prime Minister wielded overwhelming power, yet even he had needed to humble himself and beg for a painting.

The Qi Family could summon wind and rain in Gongliang City, but when placed within the entire nation, it was nothing much at all.

For a contemporary master like Han Yushou, saying that he could look down proudly upon kings and nobles would not be an exaggeration.