Just as Xiang Yang sank into deep thought, Ning Ke also awakened from the painting. She felt mentally exhausted, as though she had battled an evenly matched master for ten days and ten nights. Her entire body was filled with powerlessness and weakness.
This was a sign of extreme mental fatigue, but it also showed that Ning Ke had gained immensely from it.
"Xiang Yang, what are you thinking about? You look absolutely ugly when you frown."
Having just returned from her immersed state within the painting, Ning Ke immediately sensed that Xiang Yang was very different from usual. He seemed distracted and troubled.
Hearing Ning Ke's question, Xiang Yang reined in the scattered killing intent around him. A cold glint flashed through his eyes. Not wanting her to worry, he chuckled softly and said,
"Nothing. I just thought of a rather amusing joke. Let me tell it to you.
"There was a woman who could never find anyone willing to marry her, so she went up the mountain to ask a master why.
"The woman said, 'Master, I have a figure and looks. Why can't I find my ideal husband?'
"After hearing this, the master said nothing. He took the woman to a cowshed at a farmhouse below the mountain, wrapped a rope around a calf's horns, and told her to pull.
"The woman did as instructed, but she could not pull it. She suddenly understood and said, 'Master, you mean that fate cannot be forced, right?'
"The master said, 'Miss, you're overthinking it. A good figure, good looks—you're pulling my leg, aren't you?'
"What do you think? Isn't that funny?"
The moment Xiang Yang finished, Ning Ke burst into hearty laughter. Her crisp, silver-bell-like laughter echoed through the room. Pointing at Xiang Yang's utterly baffled face, she bent