Li Mo, Have You Eaten Meat?

Not only had Liu Qin vanished without a trace, but the Calligraphy and Painting Hall had also sent no new painter.

The pawnshop suddenly became heavily guarded, and this lasted for several days before ending. During that time, the apprentices could only paint repetitively.

They had no idea what kind of paintings they were supposed to create. No matter how spirited they were at first, over time they all grew numb and despairing.

Li Mo, on the other hand, had become the most idle.

Of the three who shared his room, Zeng Xiaoyi had voluntarily demoted himself to a menial laborer, while the other two had consciously switched to a different side room, leaving him alone.

Li Mo no longer went to the main hall. Since the Calligraphy and Painting Hall had no such rule, and given his current painting skill, it was hard to improve further through long hours of practice anyway.

He simply stayed in his room, painting by the dim candlelight, and didn't find the conditions too shabby.

Li Mo balanced work and rest. Usually, after finishing a painting, he would stretch his limbs for a while, trying to slow the decay of his body as much as possible.

Only hunger would briefly drive him out of the side room.

The only drawback was that sometimes he couldn't tell day from night.

Li Mo looked out the window at the scattered stars. Seeing that it was still early before deep night, he picked up his brush and let it dance across the rice paper. The gray-black ink slowly spread, forming a ferocious Mountain Lord.

The Mountain Lord in the painting loomed indistinctly, exuding an indescribable Sha Qi.

As the painting grew more complete, Li Mo had fully entered his flow. The brush showed no pause, and his expression was relaxed and carefree.

Just as he was about to add the finishing touch—the dot of the eye—Li Mo's unfocused pupils suddenly sharpened again.

His thoughts seemed to return from a dense mountain forest, and he forcibly stopped the brush.

Li Mo looked at the Mountain Lord in the painting, which lacked Essence, Qi, and Spirit, but felt no regret. He casually crumpled it into a ball and burned it to ashes over the candle flame.

The ink sticks from the Calligraphy and Painting Hall were strange. Under the fire's heat, they gave off a faint fragrance.

When he painted now, he could only guarantee a thirty percent chance of reaching the level of his first Tiger Roar Painting. Most of the time, he ran out of steam near the end.

That first painting had definitely been blessed by favorable timing, location, and human factors from all sides.

Even if he had set down that last stroke just now, the Mountain Lord in the painting wouldn't have been the one he wanted.

He had practiced painting hard in the side room for days, but unfortunately, he couldn't grasp that flash of inspiration from before.

Of course, Li Mo hadn't gained nothing. At least, as his painting skill improved, he was gradually regaining the feeling of having divine guidance in his brush.

He closed his eyes to summarize the problems, then jogged a few laps along the wall.

Once his state had recovered, he sat back down at the desk and began a new round of painting—still a Mountain Lord.

But the ink wasn't enough. He picked up the remaining ink stick, which was nearly gone.

Just as Li Mo was about to grind ink, a series of light footsteps brushed past outside the door.

"What the hell?"

Li Mo noticed that although it was late, the painter apprentices shouldn't have returned to the side rooms yet. They had to practice in the main hall at least until Zi Shi.

Bang, bang, bang...

The footsteps sounded again outside the door, like heavy blows striking Li Mo's heart. The temperature in the room suddenly dropped by five or six degrees.

Li Mo was nearly eleven years old, and the Death Sickness was beginning to show signs.

He wasn't sensitive to cold. For him to immediately notice something was wrong meant the indoor temperature had already dropped to the equivalent of deep winter.

He recalled the recent vigilance the pawnshop had shown. His right hand instinctively moved behind his back, and a dagger fell into his palm.

This dagger was just a small carving knife used by the carpenter. The hemp rope on the handle had been tied by Mother Li, and Li Mo had always kept it hidden in the sole of his shoe.

Li Mo's expression was tense. He pressed his back against the wall and stared at the door.

After a few seconds of stalemate, he called out hesitantly, "Steward Hu is magnanimous. Why bother arguing with a yellow-haired child?"

"Hehehe..."

A silvery laugh rang out. At the desk where Li Mo had been sitting, Steward Hu's figure had somehow appeared. She wore a light red robe, and her attire was extremely seductive.

Especially her eyes—they had been painted into willow-leaf brows and Phoenix Eyes.

"Little Li Mo, how did you recognize me?"

Li Mo breathed a sigh of relief, bowed respectfully, and said, "I accidentally smelled it... the unique rouge scent on Steward Hu..."

"And now?"

Li Mo looked up at her words, only to see Steward Hu's entire body emitting gray smoke.

The smoke was very similar to the black aura Liu Qin had given off, though the color was slightly different.

Then, Steward Hu's delicate skin erupted in a mass of Pus Sores, accompanied by rotting, stinking flesh. Her skin seemed to be dissolving rapidly.

Li Mo stood frozen in place. Though he understood this was Steward Hu's test, a chill still shot straight up his spine from his back.

"I won't tease you anymore."

Steward Hu smiled and covered her face with a light veil.

In an instant, the gray aura she emitted vanished, and her flesh returned to normal. But her facial features had been erased, leaving a blank face staring at Li Mo.

Li Mo finally understood why Steward Hu had to paint Nether Makeup. It was because her features were all fake, which was why they looked so exaggerated.

Steward Hu took out the Tiger Roar Painting that Li Mo had given to Liu Qin; the painting was still stained with blood.

She placed it under the candlelight and examined it carefully.

"Li Mo, you do have some skill, no—it's talent at work, to capture the ferocity of the Mountain Lord so vividly."

"But strange to say..."

Steward Hu's expressionless face fixed on Li Mo, and he faintly sensed malice, as if the Mountain Lord from his painting was charging straight at him.

"Have you seen a Tiger Beast?"

Li Mo had a premonition: if his answer didn't meet Steward Hu's expectations, he might well end up with his head separated from his body.

"To answer you, Steward."

"Li Mo grew up in Niu Family Village. I once saw a Mountain Lord on a high slope behind the village and have never forgotten it."

"Oh dear, my fault, my fault."

Steward Hu smiled charmingly, her mood shifting unpredictably as she said, "You're from Niu Family Village, so seeing a Mountain Lord isn't too strange."

She changed her demeanor again, asking playfully, "Have you ever eaten beast meat?"

Li Mo frowned slightly and replied, "My family was poor since childhood, with older brothers and sisters. I only ate one meal of grains a day; in the village, only pregnant women and children ate meat."

Because of Eternal Life, by thirty years old, one no longer needed to eat.

Children only got one meal of food a day, and coarse grains didn't hinder their physical development—they were easy to raise.

If not for the inability to bear children after twenty, every household would be full of sons and grandsons.

In Li Mo's understanding, the villagers didn't eat meat because they were used to frugality, and since they weren't short on food, there was no need to risk hunting.

But after Steward Hu's string of inexplicable questions, he couldn't help but feel a creeping dread.

Li Mo suddenly recalled that while he had seen pregnant women eating meat, he had never witnessed the villagers butchering a beast's carcass.

What was so strange about the birds and beasts in the mountains? And the fact that Smelting Town had no birds or beasts—was there a necessary connection between the two?

Li Mo wanted to know the answer, but it was clear Steward Hu wouldn't tell him.

All the mysteries would have to wait until he had enough power to unravel Smelting Town's secrets thread by thread.

Li Mo looked at Steward Hu, and even without speaking, she already understood his meaning.