Lin Zhuifeng had always been carefree and boisterous, and everyone in Lin Manor was used to it. But with this roar of hers—
For a moment, every painter in Tianbo Water Pavilion looked up in stunned bewilderment, their expressions strange.
Such a blunt, crushing judgment?!
That was downright humiliating.
Master Liu Qingyan's face flushed bright red, and even the hand clutching his brush trembled without stop.
Lin Qingyin was also jolted awake from the shock of An Le's painting by that howl, and hurriedly shot Lin Zhuifeng a glare.
"Master Liu, please do not be angry. This girl is speaking nonsense."
Lin Qingyin apologized softly.
Only then did Liu Qingyan's expression ease somewhat. Yet his lips still twitched and trembled. His paintings had been adored by countless Flower Queens throughout the city; this was the first time anyone had judged them like this.
No flavor left?!
What the hell did this woman know about paintings?!
An Le also came back to his senses at that moment. Looking at Lin Qingyin and Lin Zhuifeng beside him, he cupped his hands in greeting.
"Keep painting! You paint way too well!"
Lin Zhuifeng grew excited instead and urged An Le to continue.
Of course she knew she had said the wrong thing, but... did that matter?
If Liu Qingyan was angry, then let him be angry. What was wrong with her telling the truth?
Lin Zhuifeng's status in Lin Manor was unusual. Though she was nominally a maidservant and had been without father or mother since childhood, she possessed talent for cultivation and had been taken into Lin Manor. She had grown up alongside several young masters and Ninth Sister, and the madams treated her as their own daughter. She cultivated with them and held considerable status; no one truly regarded her as a maidservant.
That gave Lin Zhuifeng ample confidence. Of course, her greater confidence came from her cultivation and the fire poker in her hand.
Lin Qingyin no longer paid Liu Qingyan any mind, because she too believed An Le's painting was superior.
Her eyes shone as she looked at An Le, surprise flickering within them.
An Le's painting was too real.
If it had not been rendered only in black and white, Lin Qingyin might have been like Lin Zhuifeng and thought Madam Hua had been pressed right into the painting.
Especially those eyes—eyes Lin Qingyin remembered deeply!
During the days when Eldest Master had gone to war, First Madam's eyes had looked exactly like that, full of sorrow and laden with melancholy. Those eyes told all of her worry and grief at sending her husband off to war.
And now, that very gaze leapt from the paper, awakening that memory in Lin Qingyin.
"It is truly well painted."
Lin Qingyin murmured softly.
In the distance, Liu Qingyan felt those words repeatedly whipping his corpse, and his expression grew increasingly ugly.
Still, he refused to believe that An Le, a young painter using charcoal chunks, could surpass the Gongbi painting he had devoted decades to.
"This painter was invited by Miss Lin in the first place. Naturally, Miss Lin will speak for him."
Liu Qingyan snorted coldly, then painted the work in his hands even more earnestly.
An Le once more immersed himself in painting. The most important thing in realistic sketching was truth—to resemble the subject. The form had to resemble it, and the spirit had to resemble it even more.
The eyes were the windows of the soul. Once they were properly outlined, with highlights, lines, and everything else mastered, the spirit would emerge. It could practically be called a black-and-white photograph.
He picked up a steamed bun and used it as an eraser, rubbing away the excess lines. His fingertips gently smudged the strokes, blending them into graduated tones of light and shade.
An Le took a step back, withdrawing his mind from the scene of Time Qi he had been observing. He was somewhat exhausted, yet excitement gleamed in his eyes.
Across both his past and present lives, this was his proudest work.
Madam Hua sat upright in a grandmaster's chair on the paper, clad in splendid garments, holding tea in her hands. Her brows were steeped in melancholy, and her eyes seemed to contain a story. Looking into them, one could vaguely see, beneath a dim rain, a man riding away slowly along an ancient road, playing a flute on horseback.
The painting was outlined in lines, neither cluttered nor chaotic. It was so clear that one could even make out a teardrop, wanting to speak yet holding back, hanging from an eyelash.
At some point, Madam Hua had appeared behind An Le.
The noblewoman stared blankly at the painting.
The self within the painting reminded her of the melancholy woman she had been during the time she saw her husband off.
"This is me..."
Madam Hua whispered.
After a long while, Madam Hua withdrew her gaze and looked deeply at An Le. How did this young painter seem as though he had personally witnessed her at the time she bid farewell to her husband, when her grief had reached its utmost depths?
But that was clearly impossible.
At this boy's age, back then... he probably had not even been reincarnated yet.
In other words, had the boy found this emotion in her brows and eyes, then painted it out?
"A painting like this can pass for the real thing. It is quite rare. Not bad."
Madam Hua praised him without hesitation.
The moment that praise rang out, Tianbo Water Pavilion erupted in an uproar. Countless painters wore disbelieving expressions. If a painting could earn Madam Hua's praise, then it was certainly extraordinary.
Many painters left their tables and stepped behind An Le, their gazes falling upon the painting.
At that sight, all the painters fell silent.
Because... the painting looked too much like the real thing!
It was almost as though it had printed a living person onto paper. Such a style had never been seen before.
Many painters shook their heads and sighed, feeling themselves inferior.
Lin Manor had invited painters this time to paint portraits of the young masters who were about to depart for war. The purpose was to leave behind painted scrolls, so they could later look upon the paintings and think of the people. What they wanted was resemblance—a preserved image.
An Le's painting had perfectly achieved that. In comparison, the other painters suddenly felt their works could not compare.
Master Liu Qingyan had finally finished his painting as well.
Still refusing to accept it, he walked over and fixed his eyes on An Le's work.
The instant he saw it, his pupils contracted.
Like the other painters, after remaining silent for a long time, Master Liu silently rolled up his proud work.
"Painting with a brush is the traditional painting method of Great Zhao."
Master Liu stubbornly insisted.
"You old man, is your mouth the hardest thing on your whole body? Painting is just making a picture on paper, isn't it? Who says it has to be done with a brush?" Lin Zhuifeng had no patience for his foul habit and directly fired back.
Master Liu choked. The sight of Lin Zhuifeng reminded him of how she had said his painting looked like shit.
"It is merely a bizarre and licentious trick, unfit for the hall of elegance."
Master Liu was full of indignation as he snorted and flicked his sleeve.
He then took his leave of Madam Hua. Madam Hua gave him only a faint glance. Seeing Master Liu leave, the other painters followed one after another. Madam Hua did not try to keep them, instead having servants distribute travel expenses before seeing them out of Lin Manor.
Before long, every painter had left the broad courtyard of Tianbo Water Pavilion. Everyone knew who the final choice would be.
An Le's lifelike painting made them aware of their own limits.
Of course, many painters who thought highly of themselves still refused to admit that An Le's painting was good. They merely believed he had used an unorthodox path that happened to suit Lin Manor's requirements.
Just as Master Liu had said, painting with a brush was still the orthodox way, and only that could win public approval.
"How should I address you, young master?" Madam Hua looked at An Le and asked warmly.
"This student is An Le, from Chong Prefecture. I came to Lin'an to take the Spring Imperial Examination." An Le cupped his hands and introduced himself.
Hearing this, Madam Hua's eyes filled with surprise. "So you are also a young Juren scholar. No wonder your painting skills are so superb—the person in the painting seems almost alive."
"Young Master An, in that case, I must trouble you to paint portraits for the young masters of my Lin Manor."
An Le cupped his hands. "This student will certainly give it his all."
Madam Hua continued admiring the painting and said softly, "This painting is very good. I like it very much, so give it to me. I can offer Young Master An a gift in return."
"This will not count as payment for painting the young masters. It will be an exchange solely between Young Master An and myself."
An Le was startled upon hearing this. "Madam Hua need not do this. This painting was originally made for you. If you like it, then please accept it."
Madam Hua waved her hand. "Young Master An, do not stand on ceremony. I do not accept favors from others for nothing; this is the rule of Lin Manor."
"You may ask for silver or gold. If I think this painting is worth it, then it is worth it."
An Le's eyes brightened at her words, and he no longer stood on ceremony.
After thinking for a moment, he cupped his hands again and said solemnly, "Madam Hua, this student was fortunate enough to step onto the Path of Cultivation yesterday. However, because I missed cultivation schooling, I have nowhere to obtain profound manuals, and it will be difficult for my future path of cultivation to continue. Today, this student dares to ask to exchange this painting for a decent cultivation manual. If the painting is not worth that price, the payment for painting the young masters in the future may also be counted toward it."
As An Le's words fell, everyone in Tianbo Water Pavilion was rather surprised.
Lin Zhuifeng and Lin Qingyin could not help looking at An Le. They had not expected this boy to wish to continue onward on the Path of Cultivation.
For An Le to have only completed cultivation initiation at this age was indeed far too late. His future cultivation would surely be fraught with difficulties, and there was little hope.
It would be better for him to focus more of his mind on scholarship and strive to enter the Yi Bang Jinshi through the imperial examinations.
Madam Hua's gaze fell upon An Le. Naturally, she could sense the spiritual energy within him, so faint it was almost pitiful.
He had indeed only just stepped into cultivation initiation.
Yet Madam Hua suddenly recalled the moment earlier when she had met An Le's gaze, and his Primordial Spirit, calm as still water, had given a faint stir.
This boy...
Madam Hua smiled gently, beckoned An Le over, and walked toward the main hall of the water pavilion.
After sitting gracefully and elegantly in a chair, Madam Hua invited An Le to sit as well and ordered someone to pour him tea.
"How old is Young Master An this year?"
"Do you know the realms of cultivation?"
Madam Hua took a sip of tea and asked softly.
An Le rubbed the celadon teacup and said slowly, "This student is eighteen this year. I buried myself in study for the imperial examinations and missed cultivation schooling, so I do not know the cultivation realms of the world."
Within the tranquil Tianbo Water Pavilion, the youth's heart that sought the Dao was like wild grass on flat ground—when the spring breeze blew, it sprang to life again.
Hearing this, Madam Hua smiled softly.
"Since that is so, then I shall light a green lamp for Young Master An upon the Path of Cultivation."
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