At dinnertime, three simple dishes and a soup were set out on the kitchen table. There were few dishes, but the portions were generous.
Everyone who ate at the temple was there except Shao Zhen. A temple worker who had stayed late to help that day also remained for dinner.
As for Shao Zhen, he had been called but had not come, so they simply set aside some food for him. For him, tonight was destined to be another sleepless night.
Unlike the mental exhaustion he had once suffered at home, racking his brains without finding what he sought, Shao Zhen was now brimming with energy, his spirits radiant.
Cinnabar, bluestone, and other pigments had already been prepared on the small table beside him, and the Hundred Ghosts Picture had long since been laid on his desk.
Shao Zhen held a brush untouched by ink or pigment suspended above the painting. He had been like that for nearly an hour. An ordinary person's arm would have been aching long ago, but he seemed entirely unaware.
All this time, Shao Zhen kept thinking of how Yi Shuyuan had looked earlier-or rather, how he had looked after his "transformation." That feeling could neither be grasped nor unraveled, yet it undeniably existed.
This was the Faceless Ghost!
"Faceless, faceless..."
Shao Zhen murmured to himself. Before he knew it, the night had grown deep. Only now did the brush in his hand slowly descend.
Since it carried no ink, however, the brush left no trace when it touched down. Yet Shao Zhen did not stop, as though his eyes could see the strokes passing over the paper even without any ink marks.
At the center of the scroll's upper section, the Faceless Ghost's slightly raised hand seemed to cradle an invisible face amid the