Li Mu Yang was terribly conflicted!
He had originally thought he was ready, but after Lin Cang Hai saw his painting and said he was not, his doubts about his own technique and trust in Lin Cang Hai's expertise left him unsure whether he was truly prepared.
He knew he had only taken up painting halfway through life—or rather, he had not even left home yet; he had not even had time to shave his hair. He had yet to cross the threshold of painting. Lin Cang Hai, on the other hand, clearly came from a wealthy family and looked quite knowledgeable about the art of painting. From his professional perspective, Li Mu Yang's work must be unbearable to look at, right?
Otherwise, why had he looked at it once and reacted as though he had seen a ghost, then hurriedly used his body to block it so no one else could appraise or admire it?
Speaking of which, Li Mu Yang had to criticize Lin Cang Hai's acting.
Shouldn't he have walked over elegantly, calmly, and composedly to block it, then said with a smile, "Li Mu Yang still hasn't finished the final stroke—the finishing touch," and casually helped him correct it?
With that expression of yours, as if you had just suffered a nightmare, even an idiot would know what happened. Were you trying to help cover it up, or were you telling everyone, "This fellow's painting is absolutely terrible"?
But he had clearly followed the method of painting used by that white figure in his mind.
Could it be that the old dragon's painting skills were only third-rate, making them utterly insignificant compared with those of skilled humans? Li Mu Yang began regretting accepting Chu Ning's challenge.
He had staked all his hopes on that old dragon.