Before long, the paintings Xie Huizhou had made up out of thin air became bestsellers. Everyone in Capital City knew about them, and they had even begun circulating elsewhere.
What drew the most discussion was that the portrayal of [Azure Lord], modeled on the Imperial Preceptor in Xie Huizhou's paintings, was gradually changing.
He was gradually becoming righteous and noble.
Xie Huizhou's rose-tinted view of Zhang Lanhe was thicker than the city walls. In the later installments, the character gradually became beautiful, powerful, and tragic, making readers sympathize with his plight and winning the Imperial Preceptor quite a few fans.
He had actually managed to rehabilitate the Imperial Preceptor's sinister image. People genuinely believed he was a man who endured humiliation and shouldered heavy burdens.
Some, however, suspected that the Imperial Preceptor had captured the artist, locked him in a dark room, and spurred him on with a little leather whip to produce these paintings. Why else would the earlier and later works be so different?
Some even speculated that the artist was already buried.
"I suspect the artist is in love with His Excellency the Imperial Preceptor."
"No need to suspect it. Only true love could make someone dare to draw this. Most people wouldn't dare court death."
"Could the Imperial Preceptor have tracked the artist down and threatened him in private?"
"Oh no, Spring Studio Hermit's bones must have gone cold already. What a horrible death you suffered!"
"Looks like these are about to go out of print! We'd better buy a few more copies, or there won't be anything left to read."
Everyone in Capital City was discussing whether the artist Spring Studio Hermit was already dead. The topic was even hotter than the approaching Qionglin Banquet.
The commotion was so great that even the Eighth Prince, Xie Tingchun, who had only just been released from confinement, got his hands on a copy.
That day, the newly freed Eighth Prince was standing in the sun, basking in its rays and marveling at how warm the sunshine of freedom felt.
After a period of confinement, the Eighth Prince looked a little more spirited.
Having just received the emperor's verbal decree lifting his confinement, the Eighth Prince, Xie Tingchun, was delighted. All thoughts of shaving his head and becoming a monk immediately vanished, and he became focused on his ambitions again.
Then he discovered that the people in his residence had been taking advantage of his confinement to skulk about all day, doing who knew what.
"What is that? Take out the books behind your backs and let me see."
He saw a guard engrossed in something he was reading, only to hide it in a panic at the sight of him. His brows furrowed as he realized something was amiss.
Under tremendous pressure, the guard handed over the Phoenix Painting. He watched helplessly as the Eighth Prince took the book away, his heart aching so badly he could barely breathe.
It was a collector's edition he had spent two whole taels on. He had only just begun enjoying it, and already it was leaving his side.
My two taels of silver!
The moment the Eighth Prince took it, he saw an erotic illustration on the cover bearing a striking resemblance to the Imperial Preceptor and stared in astonishment. Soon afterward, he burst into wild laughter. "Hahahaha! Imperial Preceptor! Your day has finally come! Let me take a good look at you making a fool of yourself!"
At first, when he saw the Imperial Preceptor being maligned, the Eighth Prince laughed and gloated, thinking Zhang Lanhe deserved it.
But before the Eighth Prince had laughed for long, his smile slowly faded.
The later plot began rehabilitating the Imperial Preceptor. In fact, the artist's admiration for him and a barely perceptible affection were clearly discernible.
The Eighth Prince felt sour about it.
He kept reading and soon discovered that his own secrets had all appeared in the paintings.
There was a character inside who resembled him closely. Although it was never stated outright, it was implied.
Having an affair with an imperial consort, secretly preparing to raise troops in rebellion, planting a whole host of spies around his brothers...
These details laid bare the full extent of the Eighth Prince's ruthless ambitions.
Compared with the scandal of the Eighth Prince preparing to murder his father and seize power, the Imperial Preceptor's obviously fabricated erotic history paled into insignificance.
As the Eighth Prince read on, his face gradually turned livid, and he flew into a rage.
"Well, well! How brazen! He knows far too much. Only the dead won't run their mouths."
People who knew too many secrets did not live long in Capital City, and they were liable to die horribly.
This artist had some nerve, daring to draw so many people's secrets. Quite a few were even made up out of thin air, slandering them to the point of ruin.
Even eight heads would not be enough to pay for it.
"Who is this man? How does he know my plans?" The plans the Eighth Prince had secretly put into motion over many years had been exposed to the public. Cold sweat instantly soaked his clothes, and his gaze turned venomous. He wanted nothing more than to drag the artist out and torture him. "He even drew every last detail! What am I supposed to do if Father finds out?"
The Eighth Prince dared not gamble on the well-informed emperor being unaware of this.
If the emperor discovered even a single one of those things, he would face not confinement, but death to atone for his crimes.
He grew frightened and uneasy.
"This artist is exposing us under the guise of erotic paintings! Who exactly is backing him?"
The bad news was that all his schemes had already been exposed ahead of time in erotic paintings.
The good news was that he was not the only one exposed. Everyone had a share.
It was an indiscriminate barrage that made it impossible to tell who was behind it.
"Could Fourth Brother be making a move against me?"
The Eighth Prince tore the paintings to pieces and burned them. Every last lustful thought in his mind vanished.
"Investigate! Investigate this for me! Who has the nerve to malign me like this? Find him and kill him. We cannot let him keep drawing."
After thinking it over, he still felt the Fourth Prince and the Fifth Prince were the likeliest suspects.
If that brazen artist Spring Studio Hermit kept drawing, he would get him killed.
"Your Highness, surely that isn't necessary? Everyone in Capital City treats this as a joke. No one has ever taken it seriously." His adviser, however, thought he was making a fuss over nothing and urged him to calm down. "Nor has anyone ever thought this was you. It never names you outright. If we take the initiative to investigate, we'll only alert them. It would be even worse if we effectively confirmed it was true."
Who read erotica for the plot?
The Imperial Preceptor had not reacted even after being depicted like that. What was the Eighth Prince getting so worked up about?
The Eighth Prince gritted his teeth. "Am I supposed to just let him keep drawing this nonsense?"
Having suffered a major setback before for ignoring his advisers, the Eighth Prince thought it over and decided to listen this time. Advisers did have their uses sometimes.
"There are rumors now that the artist is already dead. If he is, even fewer people will care about this. Given enough time, no one will remember."
The adviser had prepared several contingencies.
"Even if he's alive, it's not much of a problem. We can try courtesy before force. Few in this world can resist the lure of silver and gold. Artists who draw such lowbrow works are always short of money. We need only ask the shopkeeper to buy him off. We could even put him to work for us."
The adviser worked diligently, even planning how to win people over and poach someone for his lord.
This artist dared to draw nonsense about anyone. It seemed he had been bought off by quite a few people and cared about nothing but money.
If he could work for others, he could work for them.
Hearing this analysis, the Eighth Prince found it very reasonable. He suppressed his impulsiveness and sent his subordinates to handle the matter.
The advisers brought up another matter. "Will you be attending the Qionglin Banquet?"
The emperor had used the occasion of the Qionglin Banquet to lift the Eighth Prince's confinement. The Eighth Prince could hardly wait to announce his return to everyone and reassure the allies who supported him.
"Of course! Why wouldn't I go? Ninth Brother, who got me confined for so long, is still enjoying himself. How could I not deliver a generous gift in person?"
Before you continue