Chapter Twenty-Five: The One I Like

“What I am teaching you is a kind of creativity. I hope that, relying on your own inspiration and intuition, you can integrate this carving technique into your own works, imbuing them with spirit and mystery, so that your sculptures possess life.”

“Of course, inspiration is the prerequisite.”

At this point, Master Yan paused, then continued, “Inspiration is an elusive thing. Sometimes it bursts forth in an instant, yet sometimes it doesn’t appear for years.”

“I hope you strive to seek inspiration. Once you find it, I believe you should be able to reach the goal I spoke of, perhaps even surpass my expectations.”

Qin Feng nodded thoughtfully. Though he had not yet found any inspiration, he understood that inspiration was intangible and could only be discovered through slow exploration.

“You can try carving people, or anything you like.”

“Carve living things?” Qin Feng’s eyes suddenly brightened.

“That’s right, carve living things! You can try carving some figures,” Master Yan nodded, then continued, “That shouldn’t be too difficult, but it’s your first time carving figures. Why don’t I give you some guidance?”

Qin Feng asked respectfully, “Why don’t you carve a figure you like first, and I’ll take a look,” said Master Yan after a moment’s contemplation.

Qin Feng nodded, picked up the carving knife nearby, and began working at the table. As the blade touched the surface, he seemed to enter a state of total absorption, losing himself in the task.

As time passed, Qin Feng’s arm began to tremble slightly, as though bearing tremendous pressure. At the same time, beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, trickling down his nose and landing on the floor with a crisp, pleasant sound.

“Phew—!”

Letting out a long breath, Qin Feng stopped his work. He wiped his cheeks and looked up at his creation. The subject of his sculpture was none other than Lin Wanting; the figure was lifelike, almost real, with even her beautiful eyes delicately rendered.

Moreover, Qin Feng’s face bore a gentle, soft expression.

“Well?” Qin Feng turned to Master Yan, anticipation and excitement written across his face.

Master Yan nodded slightly and praised him, “I didn’t expect you could carve this, and so vividly at that. It seems I’ve underestimated you.”

Upon hearing Master Yan’s praise, Qin Feng relaxed and asked, “Teacher, what level would you say my carving skills have reached?”

Master Yan was silent for a moment, then shook his head, saying, “I don’t know.”

“I don’t know”—this was the second time Qin Feng had heard these words, yet he wasn’t disappointed in the slightest. After all, Master Yan was a world-renowned expert; to earn his approval was already remarkable.

Still, a confident gleam shone in Qin Feng’s eyes, clearly convinced his skills were not lacking.

He proceeded to finish carving the other works on the table and sought Master Yan’s opinion.

“These are decent, but at best, ordinary,” Master Yan shook his head.

Qin Feng was puzzled; the pieces he had just carved were already outstanding.

“Don’t be surprised. This is an issue of technique, not of the pieces’ value. Once you truly master this craft, anything you create will have incomparable worth,” explained Master Yan.

Qin Feng understood, though his heart remained awestruck.

Leaving Master Yan’s studio, Qin Feng was about to head home when he sensed someone following him. He frowned, glanced behind him, then walked down another street.

He wanted to see who dared to follow him.

Soon, Qin Feng turned into an alley.

“Since you’ve followed me, why haven’t you shown yourselves?” Qin Feng sneered.

At that, two sets of footsteps approached from the darkness, entering Qin Feng’s view. Both were dressed in black, faces masked, showing only cold eyes.

Qin Feng sized them up; he didn’t recognize either. Without a word, the two lunged at him.

“Get lost!”

Qin Feng shouted coldly, swinging his right fist to strike their chests. With immense strength, he sent them flying.

Though their skills weren’t weak, compared to Qin Feng they were no match.

Blood spewed as they hit the ground, unable to rise.

Yet they didn’t give up, forcing themselves up and attacking again.

Qin Feng’s lips curled in mockery. He kicked one man in the abdomen, sending him crashing through a wall and collapsing, unable to move.

“So, tell me—why are you following me?” Qin Feng squatted before one, his voice icy.

“You’d better let us go, kid, or you’re dead,” the other snarled, clutching his stomach and glaring fiercely.

Qin Feng merely laughed coldly, then slappe