Outside, the chill of the bleak spring rain pressed in from all sides.
Just like Luo Qingchen's state of mind at that moment.
His footsteps froze. His neck tilted slightly, strands of hair hanging beside his temples, his blade-carved brows furrowed. Yet his pupils reflected disbelief, and even... absurdity.
"Impossible!"
An Le?! Wasn't that name... the young painter who had entered Lin Manor?
The young man who had braved the spring rain and, beneath his oppressive aura, still held his spine straight without bowing his brows or bending his waist—the detestable sight of him!
How could that young man... possibly be some master of bamboo painting?!
His painting had even made its way into the Literature Academy, drawing the admiration and praise of two Masters, prompting many Academy teachers to praise and analyze it among themselves, and even earning him the title of Mister An Le.
Luo Qingchen was slightly dazed. The next moment, his gaze sharpened. "It is only a painting."
Indeed, it was only a painting. It proved nothing.
He continued onward. Having reached an empty seat, where he should have sat, he thought for a moment and kept walking until he arrived beneath the main desk.
"Second Master, Third Master."
Luo Qingchen performed a disciple's salute, cupping his hands and bowing.
Second Master stroked his beard, glanced at Luo Qingchen, and his smile gradually faded. "Sword intent coils around your Dao Heart, which has once again been covered in dust. The road ahead will only grow more rugged."
Luo Qingchen bowed. "This disciple believes that I should be able to wear away this dust upon my Dao Heart."
Second Master shook his head. "Never mind. As long as you know it in your heart. Hua Jiebing is not Li You'an, after all. You do indeed have a chance to wear away her sword intent. If you succeed, you may advance another step after reaching the top of the hundred-foot pole."
"Master, this disciple has a request. I wish to view this Ink Bamboo painting."
Luo Qingchen said.
"That makes sense. You arrived late and have not yet seen the painting. Go ahead and look."
Second Master did not refuse. With a sweep of his hand, the scroll lying on the desk immediately floated into the air. The mounted painting unfurled, and fierce sword intent pierced out through the scroll!
Luo Qingchen's eyes narrowed as he stared at the painting. Ink-black bamboo and rocks sprang vividly to life upon the paper.
It was as though a gust of wind swept through it, making the bamboo leaves rustle like a cascading sword waterfall.
The painting truly was extraordinary. The ink bamboo possessed the proud backbone of a gentleman, standing tall in the world no matter what winds blew from east, west, south, or north!
This was that young man's painting?!
Such sharp sword intent was not especially powerful, yet it blended flawlessly into the painting, bearing a style all its own!
Luo Qingchen suddenly recalled how An Le had entered Entering Stillness in Spirit Refinement, then established Embryonic Breathing after standing still for three days. Looking at it now, perhaps An Le had refined his spirit through this painting and established Embryonic Breathing through stillness!
It had not been as he had guessed—that Madam Hua had given the young man some Spirit Refinement treasure, using external force to pull up the seedlings to help them grow and force him into Embryonic Breathing!
The young man... possessed poetic talent, painting talent, extraordinary aptitude for swordsmanship, and the will to never bow his brows or bend his waist.
Now that he stood on the opposite side, he was a threat that could not be underestimated.
Third Master Wang Banshan, the white-haired old scholar in Confucian robes, observed the sword intent clouding Luo Qingchen's Dao Heart, then sensed the sword intent within the painting. He suddenly smiled.
"Luo Qingchen, you have been in the Academy for more than ten years. Back then, you came to Lin'an full of high spirits and breathtaking talent. Yet you lost to Li You'an, and dust settled upon your Dao Heart. Your talent appears only once in a century, but your Dao Heart is truly rather delicate."
"This Ink Bamboo painting contains the unyielding will of a gentleman, making it quite suitable for you. If you have time, you should properly learn the methods of painting ink bamboo from Mister An Le, the painter who created it. It will greatly benefit your Dao Heart."
The instant Third Master finished speaking, Luo Qingchen's saluting gesture stiffened, and his expression turned rather ugly.
He was to learn painting from An Le?
Luo Qingchen had his own pride. Was he supposed to seek instruction from the young man upon whom he had once looked down from above and imposed his oppressive aura?
Was Third Master deliberately stabbing at his heart?!
Luo Qingchen drew a deep breath, feeling as though his face had been slapped. But before him stood Third Master, a highly respected great Confucian of the Literature Academy, so he could only swallow this anger.
"Thank you for your instruction, Master."
Luo Qingchen said calmly.
Third Master stroked his beard and looked at Luo Qingchen. "Your heart is not humble enough."
"Since you acknowledge my instruction, and since we happen to have time today, copy this Ink Bamboo painting before everyone. Give them a demonstration and analyze the methods of ink bamboo painting."
Maintaining his bowed, cupped-hand posture, Luo Qingchen raised his head to look at Third Master.
Third Master stroked his beard and smiled faintly.
After a long silence, Luo Qingchen softly replied, "Yes."
Tianbo Water Pavilion.
The rain grew heavier and heavier. Countless drops of spring rain poured down, striking the black-tiled roof with crisp, dripping sounds.
Rain fell into the Great Pond before the water pavilion, stirring ripples upon ripples. As the ripples spread and merged together, one could no longer tell whether they were spring rain or pond water.
Inside the hall, An Le was painting with complete concentration. Neither spring breeze nor spring rain could affect him.
He was still painting bamboo, using ink wash to paint it. Dark ink and pale ink overlapped into layers. The slender main stalk was drawn in one breath; a pause and lift of the brush formed a bamboo joint, simple and clear. Then came the bamboo leaves. With a press and a flick, An Le infused them with the sword-waterfall state of mind from the Embryonic Breathing realm, making the bamboo leaves resemble Sword Qi unsheathing.
He painted bamboo, then painted rocks, his brush flowing like drifting clouds and running water.
Outside, wind and rain raged like a sudden storm, just like the hearts of Lin Qingyin and Lin Zhuifeng as they watched An Le paint bamboo. The bamboo in the painting seemed to face fierce wind and driving rain, yet still stood proud and unyielding!
Madam Hua had long since risen from the couch. Wearing embroidered shoes, she walked to the desk and stared at the scroll without blinking.
A good painting possessed a soul. Knowing what An Le had experienced, Madam Hua felt something special toward the bamboo in the painting. The stubborn young bamboo standing upright upon a massive rock was just like the young man's spine as he had stood firm beneath Luo Qingchen's oppressive aura in the spring rain.
Madam Hua studied it intently. The painting contained An Le's not particularly powerful state of mind, yet at this moment, it actually resonated with her own vast, abyss-like state of mind.
Her state of mind spread uncontrollably. In an instant, Tianbo Water Pavilion became a small dwelling amid a bamboo forest. Dense green bamboo swayed gracefully, and the roar of waves through the bamboo sea was like tangled strings and pipes assaulting the ears.
An Le finished the final stroke in one vigorous push. Raising his head, he saw this strange sight.
Turning his head, he found Madam Hua's exquisite face close at hand. Her eyes seemed to hold stars, as though they would draw his state of mind into them and plunge him into a boundless illusion.
The Innate Swordsman Dao Fruit trembled. It was as if a flash of sword light cleaved through An Le's vision. He withdrew his gaze and exhaled, lingering fear still in his heart.
Madam Hua's cultivation was unfathomable.
Madam Hua, whose projected state of mind had created the bamboo forest spectacle, also sensed it. She retracted her unguarded state of mind, and the surrounding bamboo sea vanished in an instant.
"Not bad."
Seeing that An Le had actually been able to cut through her Heart Sword realm, she could not help offering praise.
The brief insight she had gained by chance this time made Madam Hua's state of mind grow stronger still. Though she had not taken that crucial step, she had nonetheless improved considerably.
Receiving Madam Hua's praise, An Le smiled and dipped his brush fully in ink.
He then inscribed and signed the painting in Banqiao Style:
Though the stone speaks not, I love this young bamboo; though the bamboo speaks not, I love this mountain foot. A young man with sleeves full of spring breeze makes a game of it for you. Gifted by An Le to Madam Hua.
As the signature was completed, the wolf-hair brush lifted sharply. In an instant, spring breezes curled around the beams of the water pavilion.
Seeing the inscription, Madam Hua's red lips curved, and delight shone across her face.
Having received a painting from the young man, she was naturally pleased. Today, she had finally seen the ink bamboo that could conquer that senior, and she vaguely understood why the old man had been willing to gift the young man a sword.
It was because the young man painted bamboo as though he were wielding a sword.
There was Sword Qi in his heart, Sword Qi beneath his brush, and Sword Qi within his painting!
Madam Hua's eyes gleamed.
A thought suddenly arose in her heart. The Sixth Mountain Lord possessed a sword case containing three thousand hidden swords, said to hold every sword under heaven.
Could it be that he had also chosen to open a mountain and select a Mountain Guardian only after viewing a painting?
Or perhaps the Sixth Mountain Lord had opened the mountain solely for the young man before her?
As Madam Hua pondered this, she sank into thought.
The violent spring rain suddenly calmed.
It became a gentle drizzle, like a soft beauty carrying a tender spring breeze, making one feel incomparably at ease.
Lin Qingyin and Lin Zhuifeng had also watched An Le paint. They only felt that it carried an indescribable artistic conception, while the young man himself seemed to have undergone a transformation, possessing an extraordinary confidence.
Lin Zhuifeng moved closer to the desk and looked at the Ink Bamboo painting. With little ink in her chest and belly, she could not help exclaiming, "This painting is damn awesome!"
Admiration also filled Lin Qingyin's eyes, though she could not help feeling conflicted. She wanted to learn this method of ink bamboo painting too... but she had not even mastered sketching yet. How vexing.
Madam Hua returned from her thoughts, in excellent spirits. Her gaze fell upon the painting before sweeping over An Le.
Having finished his painting, the young man stood in the main hall in white robes, a bamboo sword at his waist, his face carrying the mild spring breeze. He was neither arrogant nor impetuous.
"You gave me this Ink Bamboo painting. As an elder, I naturally cannot accept it for nothing. I ought to give you a treasured sword, but an elder has already given you a bamboo sword. Before it, all other swords pale into obscurity, and giving you one would not show enough sincerity..."
Madam Hua's smile was radiant as she looked at the young man and gave him a mysterious smile.
"After thinking it over, I have decided to return the favor with a special gift."
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