An Le had been so awed by Madam Hua's astonishing presence earlier that he had failed to notice that the wisp of Time Qi he had absorbed was actually golden.
This gave An Le a small surprise. Golden Time Qi could condense into a Dao Fruit and bring immense benefits!
The scene before his eyes rippled like water, and an image came into view.
Beyond the long pavilion, beside the ancient road.
A faint, lingering rain slanted down from the sky, shrouded in mist, leaving the mortal world hazy and sorrowful.
Outside Lin'an City, upon the ancient Official Road.
Fine rain wove endlessly like threads. Two figures led a horse and strolled leisurely along the blue stone road, a scene as poetic as a painting, with a flavor all its own.
The woman wore a white dress, with a three-foot longsword sheathed at her waist. The man beside her had brows carved like blades and an aura as deep as an abyss. He wore silver armor and a white cloak, carried a golden-tipped spear on his back, and had a broad, gold-backed saber hanging at his waist, exuding sheer dominance. He silently led the reins of a tall black horse as he walked.
The beloved was marching to war, and his wife had come to see him off. Even the lingering spring rain had been dyed with the sorrow of parting.
An Le watched quietly, observing from a third-person perspective as though watching a film.
That armored man was likely the Lin family's Grand Duke who was enfeoffed. His cultivation reached the heavens, and both his saber and spear skills were peerless. He had overwhelmed the foreign clans, guarded Great Zhao's borderlands, and kept the Yuan Meng Army beyond the Cambang River.
Madam Hua was still young at this time. Her lovely face bore the purity and dreamlike beauty a girl in the flower of youth ought to have.
At last, after the two had walked in silence for a long time, the road came to an end despite their reluctance to part.
"After this farewell, who knows when you will return?"
"I shall dance with my sword to see my husband off."
Madam Hua spoke softly.
Then she drew the longsword from her waist. Its blade was like a cicada's wing, slender yet razor-sharp. As she swung it, it lightly cleaved the raindrops, and the hazy spray blossomed like flowers.
The man stopped with his horse and chuckled. He took out a jade flute from the saddlebag on the horse's back and raised it to his lips. A lingering flute melody flowed on without end.
The woman danced with her sword, the man played the flute. It was a picture of peerless beauty.
The man swung onto his horse and looked at the white-clad woman dancing with her sword where she stood. He lightly pressed his legs against the horse's belly, and the black horse began to trot away slowly, while his flute continued to sing.
Madam Hua continued her sword dance to the flute's accompaniment. Her swordplay grew increasingly fierce, sword light running wild and carving crisscrossing sword marks into the ground around her.
She seemed to carry the aura of clashing golden spears and iron horses, capable of splitting mountains and snapping the vast blue waves!
Only after the man and horse had vanished into the misty rain did Madam Hua stop dancing. She stood with one hand resting on her sword, her brows and eyes full of sorrow and anxious grief at their parting. A barely discernible gleam hung at the corner of her eye, whether rain or tears, no one knew.
"May my husband go to the borderlands, slay enemies like a god, and protect our mountains and rivers from harm."
"I shall await your return at home."
At that point, the scene dispersed like a hazy scroll painting amid flowing golden mist.
An Le slowly opened his eyes, his gaze somewhat unfocused. Yet he had not forgotten the primary purpose of observing the Time Qi. Madam Hua seeing her husband off to war, the sorrow in her heart, the spirit of her sword dance—all of it stirred his emotions.
When he looked back at Madam Hua, seated in Tianbo Water Pavilion, an indelible trace of sorrow lay beneath her exquisitely beautiful and dignified face.
If An Le remembered correctly, the Lin family's Grand Duke who was enfeoffed had never returned after that expedition.
Obtained Time Dao Fruit: Sword Dancer (0/10) Note: Sword Dancer (Dao Fruit): Related to swords. Grants a boost to comprehension. When wielding a sword, Battle Intent doubles, and strength and speed are enhanced.
A notification on the light screen flashed before his eyes.
A wisp of Flowing Gold Time Qi had condensed into a single Time Dao Fruit.
Yet An Le, who ought to have been delighted, was calm at this moment and did not study the newly acquired Time Dao Fruit.
He closed his eyes slightly. In his mind, the image swirled like smoke, refusing to fade.
The white-clad woman's face was filled with sorrow and worry as she bid farewell.
When he opened his eyes again, An Le picked up a charcoal stick he had sharpened with a small knife, cutting one end into a pointed nib.
His palm supported the stick while his forefinger and thumb held it as though pinching a flower. Thick paper was spread across a wooden board mounted upright on a stand. The fine charcoal tip touched the pristine white paper, and a burst of rustling sounds arose. Unlike painting with a brush, it made quite a commotion.
The sound was especially distinct in the quiet Tianbo Water Pavilion. Quite a few painters turned to look. Seeing the young painter's strange method, they snickered before immersing themselves in their own paintings once more.
Sketching was a very fundamental method of drawing. Every person studying art encountered sketching first. It tested the artist's control of line, light and shade, form, and structure, creating realistic works through light, lines, and surfaces.
Portraits belonged to life-drawing sketches.
In his previous life, An Le had successfully entered an art academy after crossing the single-log bridge alongside thousands upon thousands of art students. His foundations were solid.
Furthermore, he had observed Madam Hua's unique spirit through Time Qi.
At this moment, An Le was naturally full of confidence. Madam Hua's gaze had been deeply engraved into his mind.
Rustle, rustle, rustle...
The rhythmic yet rapid sound echoed and lingered.
An Le's eyes seemed to shine. Once he entered the state of creation, he became exceptionally serious and focused.
From time to time, he raised his head to observe Madam Hua.
The sharpened charcoal stick lightly brushed the paper, leaving marks upon the white surface. Line after line outlined the contours of her features, then refined them bit by bit.
What An Le focused on most were Madam Hua's eyes. In portrait sketches, the eyes were especially important, because they best conveyed the spirit of the subject.
Time trickled by bit by bit, while Tianbo Water Pavilion remained quiet.
Girl Zhuifeng leaned beside Ninth Sister Lin Qingyin at the railing, occasionally craning her head out, hoping to use her exceptional eyesight to examine the painters' works.
Madam Hua herself remained calm. Sitting in her chair, she took up a book written by a great scholar and read it attentively, letting the painters paint her as they pleased. She seemed utterly unconcerned with how their paintings turned out.
"Ninth Sister, shall we go down and take a look?"
Girl Zhuifeng had a fire poker tucked at her waist, and curiosity gnawed at her. Of course, what she cared about even more was whether An Le's painting could surpass those somewhat famous painters of Lin'an Prefecture.
Lin Qingyin gave Girl Zhuifeng a somewhat helpless look. "Fine, fine. As you wish."
With that, the two rose to their feet.
"First Madam, we would like to observe the painters at close range." Lin Qingyin curtsied toward Madam Hua.
Madam Hua nodded indulgently.
Girl Zhuifeng grinned and pulled Lin Qingyin across the white jade bridge to the open square.
"Let's look at Master Liu Qingyan's painting first." Lin Qingyin grabbed Lin Zhuifeng, who had been trying to edge toward An Le.
Though Lin Zhuifeng was dissatisfied, she said nothing.
"Actually, we could have invited those imperial painters from the Imperial Palace, the ones skilled in cultivating the spirit. Why didn't Old Madam invite them?"
Lin Zhuifeng asked in confusion.
The Imperial Palace's official painters were all genuine cultivators, outstanding in both calligraphy and painting. Given the Lin family's standing, they could certainly have invited them.
"Although they are painters, they have all chosen their sides. The court's situation is tangled and complicated, and every painter has a powerful patron behind them. Lin Manor has always remained neutral and has not entered the turmoil. If Old Madam invited painters, she would owe them a favor, and she does not wish to do that," Lin Qingyin explained softly.
The two had already arrived before Master Liu Qingyan's desk.
The ink stains on the desk had not yet dried. Upon the prepared xuan paper, a noblewoman had already come vividly to life. The lines were fine and smooth without trembling, and every strand of hair had been rendered with perfect precision.
Lin Qingyin nodded slightly. Though Lin Manor was a family of military merit, she had studied poetry and books under great scholars from the court alongside the young masters of the manor since childhood. Having been steeped in such learning, she naturally knew how to appreciate paintings.
"As expected of Master Liu Qingyan. Your painting is truly wonderful," Lin Qingyin praised.
"Thank you for your praise, Miss Lin. This old man has merely done his utmost." Liu Qingyan held his brush in one hand and stroked his beard with the other, a faintly self-satisfied look in his eyes.
Lin Zhuifeng did not think much of it. The painting did not really resemble Madam Hua, but since Ninth Sister had praised it, then it was probably good. Still, Liu Qingyan himself was not good-looking.
Her heart remained fixed on that handsome painter, An Le.
Unable to wait any longer, she pulled Lin Qingyin past numerous painters until they reached An Le's position.
His strange drawing posture drew quite a bit of attention.
Lin Qingyin had already been curious, so she and Lin Zhuifeng quietly came up behind An Le together.
Their eyes fell upon the upright wooden board.
The next moment, Lin Qingyin's eyes constricted. Looking at the gaze in the drawing, she felt as if Madam Hua were staring directly at her. That indescribable sorrow seemed to spread from the paper itself, making Lin Qingyin's scalp tingle. Beneath her silk robes, goosebumps rose on her fair, lotus-root-like arms.
Beside her, Lin Zhuifeng clutched the fire poker in her hand tightly, staring in utter shock.
"Hey, handsome painter, you're incredible! You practically pressed First Madam right onto the paper! Compared to this, that old man's painting has no flavor at all!"
Liu Qingyan: "..."
Lin Qingyin: "..."
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