"Young Master, Grandpa Cong wants you to come over."
Zhu Wuneng's voice rang out beyond the quiet study. He had yet to arrive, but his distinctive voice had already reached the room ahead of him.
Inside the study, Chen Xiaojun was immersed in the world of his painting. The brush in his hand drifted lightly over the rice paper, as free as a roaming dragon.
Without raising his head, he asked casually, "Do you know what Second Granduncle wants with me?"
Zhu Wuneng shook his head and answered honestly, "No idea. My granduncle sent someone with the message, so I came straight over."
Chen Xiaojun gently set down his brush, a little ink still clinging to its tip, and rubbed his aching wrist.
Zhu Wuneng took the opportunity to glance at the painting on the desk. It was an unfinished Along the River During the Qingming Festival.
The river in the painting wound and meandered, while its bridges, boats, and people were so lifelike that they seemed ready to step out of the picture at any moment.
Zhu Wuneng could not help remarking, "Young Master, you still haven't finished Along the River During the Qingming Festival? You've been painting it for months."
Chen Xiaojun smiled faintly. "Soon, I think. I expect to finish it in the next few days."
When it came to painting, Chen Xiaojun had not actually displayed exceptional talent from the outset.
In his previous life, his painting skills had been utterly ordinary. He had merely spent a few years taking hobby classes as a child.
This life was different, however. After he began practicing the sword, he discovered that his painting had made an unexpected breakthrough.
The Chen Clan had always valued its children's aptitude and comprehension, yet comprehension was often elusive.
They had discovered, however,