Youth Unintentionally Insults Qingchen, Observing Madam's Flowing Gold Years Again

The breeze in the water pavilion grew increasingly gentle, like the blessings of spring that awaken all things, a comfort that made the pores feel refreshed as it brushed against the face.

Within the main hall, the scent of ink was rich.

A special gift?

An Le was utterly bewildered by Madam Hua's words after her mysterious smile.

In truth, he didn't expect any return gift for presenting Madam Hua with the ink bamboo painting.

Merely for Madam Hua guiding him on his cultivation path and illuminating his way forward, it was enough for the young man to paint a return gift without seeking reward.

However, Madam Hua clearly didn't wish to accept his painting for free.

Madam Hua admired the ink bamboo painting on the desk. Compared to the sketch, this ink wash painting clearly brought Madam Hua more joy.

The reason Madam Hua appreciated the sketch was because An Le's sketch was so lifelike, capturing the hint of melancholy and sadness from when she parted ways with her husband all those years ago.

But An Le's ink wash bamboo was unique, even creating its own style of ink bamboo painting. Many in Great Zhao painted bamboo, but very few used ink wash.

The main hall of the water pavilion was very quiet, without a sound, only the breathing of a few people lingered.

An Le, in his white robes with wide sleeves, stood in place, awaiting Madam Hua's so-called special gift, but... after waiting for a moment, Madam Hua made no move.

An Le was somewhat puzzled and looked at Madam Hua with confusion.

Lin Zhuifeng and Lin Qingyin were also at a loss, and they were quite curious about what the First Madam's special gift to An Le would be.

A cultivation technique? Or a cultivation artifact?

But these couldn't be considered special.

Madam Hua admired the painting, looked up at An Le, and couldn't help but smile, "What are you looking at? Sit down and have some tea. You'll know about this gift in three days."

"I can't give it to you now."

Upon hearing this, An Le didn't doubt Madam Hua's words, believing she wouldn't play games with him.

He would know in three days. Could Madam Hua's gift be related to the opening of the Sixth Mountain and the recruitment of its guardian?

Did Madam Hua want to help him become the guardian of the Sixth Mountain Lord?

An Le couldn't figure it out, so he stopped thinking about it.

For the remainder of the time, Madam Hua kept An Le at the water pavilion to drink tea and discuss paintings.

Miss Xi Xiang, with her graceful posture, was exceptional at brewing tea. Her pleasing tea ceremony calmed An Le's mind.

During this time, Madam Hua explained some of the difficult points in the "Sword Waterfall Diagram" to An Le, as well as some small tips for visualizing the sword diagram, which benefited An Le greatly.

The spring rain gradually stopped, and the air was filled with a fresh fragrance, as if cleansed.

As dusk approached, the faint glow of sunset peeked out from behind the evening clouds, painting the sea of clouds in the sky with a rosy hue.

An Le bid farewell to Madam Hua and, accompanied by Lin Qingyin and Lin Zhuifeng, left the Lin Manor.

He held his folded oil-paper umbrella, a Bamboo Breaking Sword at his waist, and a black and white jade pendant hanging from it.

The young man's elegant demeanor was like a god, drawing frequent glances from passersby on the street.

As usual, he strolled down the long street and went to Yan Chun Li to get a pot of wine. Then, he unhurriedly detoured to Ding Ya Alley. He remembered the old man at the Imperial Ancestral Temple had said that the old yellow wine at Yan Chun Li was excellent, but the meat was not. For meat, one had to go to the beef shop in Ding Ya Alley.

Thus, An Le headed towards Ding Ya Alley, found the beef shop the old man at the Imperial Ancestral Temple had mentioned, bought a pound of braised beef, and then leisurely and contentedly returned to Imperial Ancestral Temple Alley.

In the Academy of Literature, amidst the black and white architectural complex.

The sunlight, washed clean by the spring rain, streamed down from between the layered clouds, reflecting off the windowsill, causing the hanging water droplets to sparkle with a seven-colored luster.

Luo Qingchen put down his brush with a somewhat displeased expression.

Looking at the ink wash bamboo and stone painting he had personally sketched on the table, a hint of embarrassment flashed in his eyes.

The Masters from the Academy of Literature gathered around, admiring and commenting on the ink bamboo painted by Luo Qingchen.

"Not bad, worthy of Mr. Luo. This ink bamboo sketch is already seven or eight parts similar."

"It's a pity about the artistic conception; it lacks that quality of a gentleman's unyielding spine standing tall in the world, enduring all winds from all directions..."

"No wonder, Mr. Luo. Mr. Luo's Dao heart has been repeatedly clouded; he doesn't understand that feeling."

The Masters of the Academy of Literature had sharp eyes. Luo Qingchen's sketch was not bad. Although his technique still lagged behind An Le's ink bamboo, for a first attempt, Luo Qingchen had done very well.

The form was correct, but the artistic conception was far off. For a painter, the artistic conception is paramount.

Luo Qingchen was not a professional painter, so everyone didn't pursue it further. Moreover, Luo Qingchen had been defeated by Li You'an, which had broken his spirit and clouded his Dao heart. Naturally, there was a gap between his painting and the gentlemanly integrity it conveyed.

But knowing it was one thing, and saying it during the critique was another.

Luo Qingchen's expression was terrifyingly grim, feeling as if his face was being dragged out and whipped repeatedly.

Of course, what made Luo Qingchen most uncomfortable was that he couldn't replicate An Le's painting, and the gap was quite significant.

"Master, I have finished my painting."

Luo Qingchen put down his brush and cupped his fists in greeting to the two Masters seated at the main desk.

"My family has matters to attend to, so I will take my leave today," Luo Qingchen said. Then, he turned and left the pavilion with hurried steps, his robes fluttering.

The Second Master glanced at the Third Master. "Why did you have to drag him out here to suffer such humiliation?"

The Third Master stroked his beard and smiled. "You know my intentions. Luo Qingchen's talent is good, but his state of mind is lacking. He is easily discouraged, and his Dao heart is too delicate, easily tainted. If he could calm himself, feel the artistic conception within the painting, and reflect on himself, understanding its unyielding spirit, he might have a chance to cleanse the dust from his Dao heart."

"Alas, he did not seize the opportunity."

"Entering Prime Minister Qin's manor as a strategist has impure his cultivation beliefs. It is truly a pity."

The Third Master sighed softly.

The Second Master was silent for a moment. "Luo Qingchen probably knows this as well. Therefore, in three days, he will go to the Sixth Mountain to compete for the guardian position. If he can enter the Sacred Mountain, the dust on his Dao heart will naturally be removed, and it will become clear and radiant."

The Third Master smiled and said nothing upon hearing this.

Luo Qingchen descended the bluestone steps. After a spring rain, the foothills of the Academy of Literature were shrouded in mist. Black and white buildings were scattered among them, hidden in the clouds, resembling a fairyland.

The burly coachman sat quietly at the carriage shafts. Mr. Luo had said he would return shortly, but it had been a long time.

Despite his confusion, the coachman felt no dissatisfaction.

As the stone path wound up the distant cold mountain, Luo Qingchen, dressed in fine robes, returned with a grim expression. He didn't say a word and got into the carriage.

"Take me to Prime Minister Qin's manor."

Luo Qingchen's voice was icy, tinged with anger.

"Yes."

The burly coachman, wearing a straw hat still damp from the spring rain, simply acknowledged the order without asking any questions. He then began to urge the luxurious carriage forward, heading towards Prime Minister Qin's manor.

Inside the carriage, Luo Qingchen sat with his eyes closed, a string in his heart vibrating and pulsing intensely.

The humiliation he suffered today was not inflicted by the young man, but the painting was made by the young man. The contrast in artistic conception within the painting made Luo Qingchen feel wronged and unwilling.

The young man's painting of bamboo possessed the integrity of a gentleman, his proud spirit standing tall in the world. Yet, people said he, Luo Qingchen, lacked this pride and couldn't capture the charm of ink bamboo...

Those words, whether unintentional or sarcastic, truly disturbed him like discordant music.

It was easy for the Masters at the Academy of Literature to say such things. If they asked this young man to face Li You'an, would his Dao heart still be as firm as a rock?! Would he still have the courage to draw his sword?!

Luo Qingchen took a deep breath and exhaled, suppressing his distorted emotions.

He knew he had lost his composure.

Images kept replaying in his mind: the young man bathed in spring rain, straightening his back under his pressure, refusing to bow his head.

The young man in the image was blinding.

Although it wasn't the dust on his Dao heart, it lingered, making him feel extremely unsettled.

"In three days, the Sixth Mountain will open. I must enter the Sacred Mountain, and my Dao heart will be cleansed of dust, restoring its former glory. All the mockery and insults will eventually dissipate like evening clouds after the rain."

Inside the carriage, Luo Qingchen slowly opened his eyes, a sharp glint flashing within them.

As the sun sank, dusk descended.

Qingbo Street became increasingly deserted.

An Le, carrying a pot of old yellow wine and a bag of braised beef from Dingya Alley, returned to the small courtyard in Imperial Ancestral Temple Alley.

The bodies in the courtyard had long since been cleaned up. Combined with the spring rain that had washed everything for a day, there was no trace of blood.

The leaves on the old locust tree, still damp with spring rain, glistened in the afterglow of the setting sun.

An Le brought out a small table from the house, placed the old wine and beef on it, and set out two bamboo stools facing each other, waiting for the old man from the Imperial Ancestral Temple.

After waiting for a while, the old man had not yet arrived. An Le sat on a bamboo chair and slowly closed his eyes.

With a thought.

The strand of Flowing Gold Time Qi he had absorbed from Madam Hua at the Tianbo Water Pavilion today suddenly appeared, emitting a golden light.

An Le had previously absorbed a strand of Flowing Gold Time Qi from Madam Hua, condensing the Time Dao Fruit [Sword Dancer].

This was the first time An Le had absorbed a second strand of Flowing Gold Time Qi from the same person.

Time flowed like molten gold, condensing into an incense stick that burned, its smoke ethereal.

Images appeared like ripples on a still lake.

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