This Is an Expert (Part 1)

"Really not?"

Speaking from her conscience, Shen Tang did not believe him.

Faced with Young Master Shen's suspicion, Qi Shan, who had been expressionless before, immediately laughed. Pointing at the paintings in Shen Tang's arms, he said in a strange, mocking tone, "Does Young Master Shen think those can be finished in two or three strokes? And the endgame laid out beneath the drawing paper is quite a thorny one..."

The implication was that Shen Tang thought too highly of him.

Where would he find the time to stay up all night rushing out paintings, while also setting aside plenty of time to crack the hidden endgame on the paper?

Shen Tang awkwardly rubbed her nose and guiltily looked away—this could not be blamed on her being overly suspicious. If anyone was to blame, it was Qi Shan's far too many "prior offenses," which had left her with something of a "psychological shadow." She stiffly changed the subject. "Yuan Liang, should I take these paintings to the bookstore to turn them in now?"

"Go on, go on." Qi Shan waved her away, happy to have her out of his sight. But when Shen Tang turned to leave, he called her back again and reminded her, "Go hand in the paintings, but be careful on the way back. We still do not know what connection the person behind this has with Sibao Prefecture's Prefect. Caution comes first."

It would be best if there was no connection. If there was, they would have to be careful.

The waters of Xiaocheng ran deep; one misstep, and one might lose their footing and drown.

"Got it, got it."

Shen Tang looked as though she had been granted a pardon. Riding the wind beneath her feet, she vanished in the blink of an eye. Qi Shan merely lowered his eyes and raised them again, and all that remained in his line of sight was the corner of her robe as it disappeared. He could only shake his head with a wry smile before turning back into the room. Rather than catching up on sleep, he returned to the desk.

A clean sheet of paper lay spread across it.

He gathered up the remnants of his ease, focused solemnly, and raised a hand to condense literary qi. In the blink of an eye, his mind entered that endgame.

In that eerie realm where yin and yang intertwined, the slaughter on the battlefield beneath his feet continued. Both cities had suffered damage, while the black and white armies remained locked in a stalemate. But upon closer inspection, the white army currently held a faint advantage. The moment Qi Shan appeared, the figure opposite him lifted its head and met his gaze.

Calmly lifting the hem of his robe slightly, Qi Shan took his seat.

In an even voice, he said, "No one will disturb us. Let us continue."

No one answered. The only response was the figure's fan sweeping down as it placed a piece, erasing the advantage the white army had painstakingly regained.

Qi Shan remained unhurried. He calmly spoke a word spirit, and white pieces condensed beneath the sky curtain as the white army on the board moved at his command. While the black and white armies slaughtered one another, Shen Tang rode Moto to Zhengguang Bookstore, the same one from yesterday, and shouted from a long way off.

"Shopkeeper, I'm here to turn in the job!"

She leaped down from Moto's back and casually tossed out the reins. Her Moto raised its neck and opened its mouth in perfect tacit understanding, accurately catching the rope before lowering itself onto the open ground in front of the bookstore to rest. The shopkeeper was sitting behind the counter at the time, propping up his forehead with one hand as he dozed with narrowed eyes.

The moment he heard Shen Tang shouting, every trace of sleep fled him.

"Who, who?" The shopkeeper jumped in fright. Once he saw who it was, he said in surprise, "Young Lady, you finished the work so quickly?"

Shen Tang felt a little guilty and answered vaguely, "Mm-hm..."

"Let me see how the paintings turned out."

The shopkeeper did not believe her.

How detailed could a painting completed in a single night possibly be?

He knew a little of the temperament of that Male Courtesan from Moonlit Pavilion. The man was picky; crudely made paintings would never catch his eye.

Yet when he slowly unrolled the paintings, one glance was enough for the figure within to seize all his attention. For a moment, he could not look away, and even his breathing unconsciously slowed. On the paper was a handsome youth with a trace of childishness, hiding alone amid a bed of flowers. The artist had not focused on the youth's face, instead pouring nearly all the essence of the painting into those full, Just Right red lips, making one unable to resist leaning close.

The shopkeeper suddenly came back to himself, his old face flushing faintly.

He gave an embarrassed cough. "Young Lady, your painting skills are extraordinary!"

He had worked in this business for many years and accepted no small number of high-priced commissions from Brothels and Entertainment Houses. Among the artists who took jobs from him, if there were not a hundred, there were at least fifty. There had been no shortage of classic works praised far and wide—some subtle and restrained, others passionate and unbridled. Some pursued sensual glamour to the utmost; others pursued gaudy vulgarity to the utmost. The artists seemed to wish they could employ all eighteen martial arts of painting, filling their works with blossoms and splendor to seduce the eye.

Yet, speaking from his conscience, not a single one had ever made him lose composure like this. Who would have thought he would encounter one today?

He almost could not wait to open the second painting. It was in the same style, seemingly subtle and restrained, yet upon careful consideration, one could sense the desire beneath its tranquil surface. It was as though a seductive yet unvulgar demon hid within the painting, capable of stealing one's three souls and seven spirits with every frown and smile.

The third painting featured two people.

One was still that youth. The other's face was unclear, but his body was broad and powerfully built. He was pressed close to the youth's ear, whispering something intimate, his mouth almost enclosing the youth's full earlobe.

The fourth also featured two people, but this time it was a man and a woman. The woman's face was likewise unclear, her back slender and well-proportioned. The youth smiled as he leaned close to her, and the intimate atmosphere seemed ready to break through the paper and rush straight at the viewer.

The shopkeeper's Adam's apple bobbed several times as he secretly wiped away sweat.

It would not do to lose his composure in front of Shen Tang, so he could only pretend to be thirsty and drink tea, relying on the ice-cold liquid to suppress the restless fire inside him.

This was truly damned strange.

Having worked in this trade for so long, what stories of thunder stirring earth-fire and what Erotic Illustrations had he not seen? He had thought himself long immune to water and fire, yet a few portraits hurriedly completed overnight had broken his precedent. More and more sweat gathered on the shopkeeper's forehead, and his face reddened.

Once he had finished admiring every painting, he exhaled a turbid breath and was thoroughly convinced—this was absolutely an Erotic Illustration expert!

The shopkeeper blurted out, "Young Lady, have you considered publishing an art collection?"

Business would absolutely explode. The collection would sell out in minutes!

He believed that once the paintings in his hands were released, the top courtesans of those Brothels and Entertainment Houses would probably crack their heads open trying to reserve commissions. Money would be no object!

Shen Tang shook her head. "I'm only doing this once."

A vigorous young Youth like Yuan Liang would easily become depleted from painting this sort of thing all day. It did not seem very healthy for him either, so better to spare him.

The shopkeeper was somewhat disappointed upon hearing that, but he still wanted to persuade her further.

Shen Tang cut him off. "Actually, I did not paint these. Last night, I had only finished half of one when my brother at home discovered me. He was so angry that he helped finish them for me. My brother is old-fashioned by nature; he would never agree to make a living from this. Are you satisfied with these paintings, Shopkeeper?"

"You didn't paint them?"

Shen Tang nodded calmly. "Mm. Does that affect anything?"

The shopkeeper thought it over. "No matter. As long as I can account for it, that's all."

They had not specifically named a particular artist to draw the pictures. So long as the work satisfied them, it made no difference who had drawn it.

It was only a pity that the art collection could no longer be published.

The shopkeeper carefully put away the drawings as though they were treasures, smiling in high spirits. "To be honest, I've seen countless pictures in my life, but these few are the most astonishing I've ever laid eyes on. Even I feel this way, so that Male Courtesan will surely be pleased as well. These paintings will definitely help raise his value another notch!"

"When will Shopkeeper deliver the paintings?"

The shopkeeper said, "Why do you ask?"

Shen Tang smiled as if shy. "That Male Courtesan is so handsome that one cannot forget him after seeing him. I want to..."

As she spoke, she lowered her head bashfully.

The shopkeeper understood. Hesitantly, he advised, "Young Lady, this... this... no matter how handsome the people in those Brothels and Entertainment Houses may be, you mustn't give them your heart... After all, they're all..."

He swallowed the rest of his words.

If it were a decent-born person, that would be one thing.

But a Male Courtesan who welcomed and sent off clients...

Alas, this Young Lady simply would not listen—she was utterly obsessed with looks!