The Weight of Artistic Conception

Jiang Qingyu stepped forward a few paces.

Duan Rong narrowed his eyes and looked. The young master wore brocade robes and black boots, his hair bound with fine jade. He was strikingly handsome.

The moment Duan Rong saw Jiang Qingyu's face, he found himself in a bind. "You're this handsome—how am I supposed to PS you?"

There was hardly any room left on those features. If he altered them carelessly, he might only ruin what was already perfect...

"Looks like I can only work on the artistic conception!"

After a brief moment of thought, Duan Rong finally seemed to have a plan.

"Turn your face to the side, Young Master!"

Jiang Qingyu turned impatiently.

Duan Rong carefully studied Jiang Qingyu's profile.

He couldn't botch his very first commission!

"All right, turn back around."

Jiang Qingyu turned back, his eyelids drooping in mild reproach.

"Does Young Master use a sword?" Duan Rong noticed the sword tied at Jiang Qingyu's waist—a purple-bronze scabbard, its sword tassel white as snow.

The tassel was made from the finest cotton thread, capable of soaking up blood to its heart's content!

"What? Want to try it?" At the mention of his sword, Jiang Qingyu abruptly raised his eyes, his gaze provocative.

He had already noticed Duan Rong's short martial outfit. And wasn't that blade hanging from the tree where the lanterns were strung?

"May I trouble Young Master to perform a few forms? I'll use your sword-bearing posture as reference material," Duan Rong said with a light smile.

Before Jiang Qingyu could speak, servant boy Jiang Rong stepped forward with the lantern and snapped, "You brat, you're only painting a picture, yet first it's this, then it's that. If you can't do it, say so now. We can at least give you a quick end. Don't drag things out here."

"Ah..." Jiang Qingyu waved to stop Jiang Rong, then turned to Duan Rong. "I can perform the forms. But if you fail to paint it well, I won't just smash your stall. I'll strip you naked and tie you to this tree."

Hearing this, Jiang Rong seemed to already see Duan Rong's miserable naked form tied to the tree, and he immediately let out a snickering laugh.

Duan Rong sighed and secretly shook his head. Rich and noble in youth—so high-spirited and impetuous.

Jiang Qingyu drew his longsword. Cold light shimmered like water as it flashed left and right.

Duan Rong was secretly startled.

Jiang Qingyu had begun practicing martial arts at twelve, and five years had passed since then. A month ago, his Illusory Cloud Swordplay had reached Minor Accomplishment.

Whether in the combat techniques of Martial Skills or in the realm of Inner Breath, the current Duan Rong could not compare to him.

Once Jiang Qingyu finished his forms, he sheathed his sword and stood sideways!

An idea suddenly came to Duan Rong. The youth dancing with his sword beneath the Great Locust Tree reminded him of the Young Martial Artist Painting he had bought from the Thin Scholar earlier that day.

Gradually, he merged the scene before him with the artistic conception of that painting!

Duan Rong's mind became clear as snow. He wielded his brush and splashed ink, without the slightest hesitation.

Almost in a single breath, he painted an image of a youth dancing with a sword!

Duan Rong looked at his work and smiled faintly. "Young Master, it's done!"

"It's done?" Jiang Qingyu was deeply suspicious. "So quickly?"

Duan Rong took the paper from the easel and handed it to Jiang Qingyu.

Jiang Qingyu accepted it and lowered his head to inspect it by lantern light.

It was a simply rendered freehand ink painting. The person dancing with a sword in the painting was himself.

Yet the backdrop was not beneath the Great Locust Tree as night had just fallen, but jagged rocks and bamboo shadows.

The strange rocks stood rugged and craggy; the bamboo shadows rustled...

Jiang Qingyu felt a deep, far-reaching artistic conception and a weighty resonance. He stared at the painting for a long while, until he found himself unable to put it down.

Duan Rong had in fact imitated the Thin Scholar's Young Martial Artist Painting.

In his previous life, he had once chanced upon an interview with a famous painter.

The white-haired painter had said something that Duan Rong still remembered.

"What is weight? If the placement is right, that is weight!"

Though Duan Rong lacked the ability to achieve that realm of weight, he could draw on it—imitating the positional relationships among the strange rocks, bamboo shadows, and youth in the Thin Scholar's Young Martial Artist Painting.

If he went by that old painter's words, this weight was that weight.

Only after studying it for a long time did Jiang Qingyu raise his head. His eyes already held admiration and fondness as he said, "Brother, you truly are an extraordinary man!"

"This painting already faintly bears the air of a master. Who would have thought I would find it in these streets and alleys?"

"I was rude just now. I hope Brother will forgive me!"

Duan Rong smiled softly. "Young Master need not be so polite. This is merely a transaction."

"Sure enough, the greatest recluses hide within the marketplace; the common streets are a place where crouching tigers and hidden dragons lie." Jiang Qingyu said, "Is Brother from Xiangu County? Where do you currently reside? I would like to pay you a personal visit another day."

"My name is Duan Rong, and my family has lived in Xiangu County for generations. I am currently an Apprentice Escort at the Yuan Shun Escort Agency. Should Young Master have any need for paintings, simply send someone to the Yuan Shun Escort Agency to summon me!"

"Yuan Shun Escort Agency? An Apprentice Escort?" Only then did Jiang Qingyu notice the Waist Tag tied at Duan Rong's waist, which indeed bore the mark of the Yuan Shun Escort Agency.

Duan Rong naturally heard the doubt in Jiang Qingyu's voice and smiled. "I have fallen on hard times in the martial world, merely earning a living as best I can."

Jiang Qingyu also smiled faintly. He took out a Silver Note from inside his robes, held it up in both hands, and respectfully presented it to Duan Rong. "A small token of regard, to support Painter Duan. I hope you will not refuse!"

Though Duan Rong could tell that Jiang Qingyu was sincere, he still lightly waved his hand. "The transaction has already been completed. How could I accept more silver from Young Master?"

"It would be one thing if I did not know this painting's value. But since I recognize its value, how can I pretend otherwise and take advantage for nothing? Painter Duan, you must accept it!"

Seeing that he could not refuse, Duan Rong could only take it. "Thank you for your generous favor, Young Master!"

Only then did Jiang Qingyu cup his fists in farewell and leave!

Duan Rong watched the master and servant depart. Lowering his head, he saw the denomination on the Silver Note in his hand. "One hundred taels?!"

Duan Rong laughed soundlessly. "This young master truly spends freely. This business of mine has had quite the auspicious opening!"

Jiang Qingyu did not mount the Green Mane Horse again. Flower Shadow House stood across the street; crossing it would bring him there.

He merely carried the painting and walked ahead, while servant boy Jiang Rong led the horse behind him.

"Jiang Rong, once I show this painting to Lan Ying, she'll definitely be delighted! Then she won't keep sulking at me. Maybe tonight, she'll even sing me a little tune..."

"Young Master shouldn't be too optimistic. It's only a painting. With Lan Ying's temperament, how could she be pleased so easily?"

"Jiang Rong, you don't understand!" Jiang Qingyu had wanted to say more, but suddenly remembered that Jiang Rong had never studied painting or calligraphy. Saying more would be like playing the lute to a cow, so he sighed. "Just wait and see."

As they spoke, they reached Flower Shadow House. Jiang Rong handed the Green Mane Horse to the tortoise slaves at its entrance, who would naturally lead the horse to the Back Courtyard.

Jiang Rong followed Jiang Qingyu into Flower Shadow House.

The moment they entered, the scent of rouge and flowers rushed at them.

Several courtesans welcoming guests at the entrance immediately surrounded Jiang Qingyu, shoving and chattering noisily...

Jiang Qingyu frowned tightly. Jiang Rong had always known that his young master disliked such gaudy women, so he immediately blocked the courtesans, gave each one a Silver Note to send them away, then led Jiang Qingyu through the Great Hall and straight up to the second floor.

Duan Rong watched Jiang Qingyu and his servant enter Flower Shadow House. About the time it took for one stick of incense to burn, Jiang Qingyu emerged from Flower Shadow House again.

There was also a woman walking beside Jiang Qingyu. Across the street and in the darkness of night, Duan Rong could not make out her features. He could only see that she had a graceful figure and slow, steady steps. At her side was a maid holding a pink flowered parasol with embroidered trim, following closely behind her.

Judging by the direction the three were taking, they were coming straight toward him.