Li Xian's Tall Tales Fooled Them Deeply; Fair Yingqiong Went Undercover Herself

Ding Longxiang was eager. "Let me see." She took the painting and stared, stunned. The figure and scenery complemented each other: a beauty leaning against bamboo, smiling. She was herself, and the scene was just as it had been. Yet on the page, they held a charm beyond words.

She gazed at it for a long while, strange lights flickering in her eyes. Delighted beyond measure, she turned it this way and that, unable to put her love for it into words. I was envious when Tao Xiangrong was painted. Her beauty would live on, and generations to come would let their imaginations wander at the sight of her. Who would have thought the same chance would be mine so soon? This painting seems born of heaven and earth, though made by a brush. Every stroke touches the soul. It truly... truly rivals the Eighteen Spring Outing Paintings! Unable to contain herself, she drew Li Xian close, looped both arms around his neck, and gazed straight at him with rippling eyes. She had forgotten the distance between a man and woman, and that they had only just met. She had always loved people of literary talent; what Li Xian had shown her went straight to her heart.

"How is it?" Li Xian asked. "Wonderful," Ding Longxiang said. "I've never seen a painting so fine." "Keep it somewhere safe for now." She nodded. "As you say." After sealing the painting away, she came back to him. "Are you tired? Shall I rub your shoulders?"

Watching, Zhao Yingqiong fumed. Impressive, Li Xian. Ding Longxiang is known as the Iron-Palm Enchantress. Those lovely hands of hers have always been for killing enemies. Yet in a single day, you've made her willing to rub your shoulders.

"No need. I'm not tired yet," Li Xian