Chapter Forty-Nine Apart from painting bamboo, does the An family possess skill in any other art?

The morning breeze brushed gently against his face, carrying the coolness unique to spring. After enjoying a bowl of tofu pudding from a street vendor at the entrance of the alley, An Le walked at a leisurely pace, letting the spring wind wash over him as he read his book and made his way toward West Lake.

The water shimmered in the sunlight, dazzling and bright; the misty mountains in the rain were enchanting in a different way. West Lake offered two distinct landscapes, whether in rain or shine. Today, sunlight poured through clouds, scattering across the lake and turning its surface into a rolling expanse of golden sand sifted through the palm of one’s hand.

On the embankment, scholars and poets gathered as they always did, while flower boats drifted across the lake, like tender green shoots that stirred the softness in the hearts of the literati. Reaching the water’s edge, An Le gazed at the waves lapping against the shore, his mood light and content.

He strolled and read, awaiting the arrival of the renowned sword maiden and courtesan on her flower boat in the center of the lake. Yet, for several days, he had not caught sight of Lady Yunrou, and now he could not be sure she would appear at all. Still, the daily ritual of walking by West Lake, reading or simply admiring the scenery, brought him its own quiet joy.

However, today’s atmosphere along the embankment was subtly different from usual. The scholars and poets clustered together, whispering and exchanging gossip, their eyes brimming with curiosity and excitement.

“Have you all heard of the illustrious Master An who won the Little Sage’s Token at the Sixth Mountain yesterday?”

“How could we not know Master An, studying as we do at the Academy? His ink bamboo technique departs so strikingly from traditional meticulous brushwork—it’s truly breathtaking.”

“I was fortunate enough to glimpse a copy of his ink bamboo painting circulating from the Academy. The interplay of dark and light ink is ingenious beyond compare.”

The scholars spoke animatedly, referring to Master An at every turn. After listening for a while, An Le realized with some amusement that Master An was none other than himself.

Finding himself in high spirits, he decided to linger by the shore, listening to the scholars’ effusive praise and occasionally joining in, offering some insights and commentary on the ink bamboo painting.

“Brother, you’ve seen the ink bamboo as well?” a young scholar asked in surprise, impressed by An Le’s sharp observations.

With a modest bow, An Le replied, “I have been lucky enough to see it a few times.”

“Oh? Do you also study at the Academy?” several asked, for An Le’s face was unfamiliar to them.

“No, not quite. I work as a painter for the Lin Residence, creating art for the young masters in my spare time,” An Le answered with a smile, for he had never attended the Academy.

The scholars, their interest piqued, chatted eagerly with him for a while. When it became clear that Lady Yunrou would not appear today either, An Le took his leave and headed to the Lin Residence for work.

Though he had won the Little Sage’s Token and his painting had astonished all of Lin’an, none of this had changed the rhythm of his life. He still reported to the Lin Residence for his duties, still studied diligently, and prepared for the upcoming spring examinations.

Walking along the stone-paved road, his waist adorned with the green hills and ink pool, An Le vanished into the long causeway. Some scholars watched him go, finding him a curious character, recalling that he appeared by the lakeside every day, always gazing at the flower boats and the ladies aboard.

Suddenly, one scholar from the Academy exclaimed, eyes shining with newfound excitement as he looked in the direction An Le had gone.

“As I recall, the Lin Residence recently sought a new painter. Was it not Master An who outshone all others and was appointed as their artist?”

“Do you suppose that gentleman just now was Master An himself?”

The literati fell silent, gazing after An Le, then burst out laughing, dismissing the notion as utterly preposterous. “A man of Master An’s repute—how could he come to the lake every day to watch the fair ladies aboard those flower boats?”

“Such a transcendent figure as Master An could hardly share our petty amusements,” they said, and laughter rippled along the embankment.

An Le, unaware of what transpired by the lake after his departure, would have simply smiled even if he had known. He followed the bustling streets, basked in the warm sunlight, crossed into quieter lanes, passed the stone stele before which even the highest officials dismounted, and finally glimpsed the Lin Residence’s distinctive Eight-Treasure Pavilion with its cascading eaves.

The door was opened as usual by the shy maid, Liuxiang. Seeing An Le’s handsome and otherworldly appearance, Liuxiang bit her lip, blushing deeply. News of An Le’s triumph at the Sixth Mountain and acquisition of the Little Sage’s Token had been spread throughout the residence by Lin Chuifeng’s excited boasting, so most within were now familiar with An Le’s feats. Now, meeting him in person, Liuxiang felt as though he were a celestial being descended from the heavens.

An Le greeted her with a gentle smile and, led by Liuxiang, entered the Lin Residence. He had intended to visit Lady Hua to inquire about the Little Sage’s List, but Liuxiang informed him that Lady Hua had yet to return, so An Le proceeded directly to the Martial Hall.

“Master An!” Lin Chuifeng and Lin Qingyin greeted An Le with teasing smiles.

An Le waved his hand modestly. “I dare not claim such a title.”

Today, the young masters of the Lin Residence were all dressed in martial attire, their spirits high. It seemed they were about to depart—or perhaps had stayed behind especially to see An Le. Yesterday, they too had visited the Sixth Mountain, hoping for a chance to become mountain wardens, and had unexpectedly witnessed the prowess of the Lin Residence’s own painter.

The Eighth Young Master, Lin Ye, eagerly approached. “Master An, at last you’re here! Your ink bamboo is now famed throughout Lin’an—not only at the Academy, but even the Martial Temple is abuzz with praise.”

“We’re off to the Martial Temple shortly, to take the spring examinations. Afterwards, many of us will be heading to the Canglang River, hoping to restore our family’s former glory.”

“We stayed behind today just to see you,” he said, and the other young masters smiled in agreement.

Having grown familiar with them, An Le found the young men of the Lin Residence to be far more approachable than their outward reserve suggested.

“I promised Lady Hua I’d paint for the young masters, but the work is not yet done. There’s still plenty of time,” An Le said earnestly. The frontier was fraught with danger, but he hoped for their safe return.

They exchanged light laughter and continued chatting. As they spoke, An Le quietly drew forth the essence of time from the young masters. Each person offered three wisps, and with five young men present, he gathered fifteen in total. For Lin Ye, the eighth son, this would be the last—he was now completely drained of time’s essence. The sons of the Lin Residence could no longer provide An Le with much more.

With the fifteen wisps, An Le divided them into three portions and infused them equally into the Dao Seeds that most needed the essence of time. As for his cultivation methods—the Five Beasts Body Refinement and the Sword Cascade Scroll—he had already strengthened them sufficiently and saw no need to add more for now.

Afterward, An Le felt a faint tremor in his mind, as though some subtle change had taken place within him. The improvement was slight but would, over time, leave its mark.

After chatting for a while longer, the young men set out for the Martial Temple, leaving Lin Qingyin, the ninth daughter, alone with An Le. Of course, they were not truly alone—servants lingered discreetly in the distance, waiting for instructions.

The two made their way to the Waterside Pavilion, sitting quietly in the spring breeze as it stirred endless ripples across the jade-green pond.

“Master, will you teach painting today?” Lin Qingyin asked in a soft voice.

An Le smiled. “Today, I’ll teach you the basics of still-life sketching.”

He requested an apple from Liuxiang and placed it atop the carefully folded, wrinkled silk on the table, teaching Lin Qingyin how to capture the interplay of light and shadow on both apple and fabric.

Lin Qingyin studied with great dedication, and An Le taught with equal seriousness. The soft scratching of charcoal on paper sounded like cicadas in summer, bringing a quiet calm to the heart.

Suddenly, Lady Hua’s personal maid, Xixiang, approached gracefully across the white jade bridge.

“Master An, Ninth Miss,” Xixiang greeted with a bow.

“Madam has just sent word of her return. If Master An is in the residence, he may see Fourth Master, who will share news regarding the Little Sage’s List on her behalf.”

An Le bowed in thanks. “Thank you for Madam’s thoughtfulness.”

“Master, please, go ahead. I can continue painting here on my own. Once I finish, I’ll bring it for your critique tomorrow,” Lin Qingyin said with a gentle smile.

With a nod, An Le took his leave and followed Xixiang toward the Clear Breeze Courtyard.

Even before entering, he heard the neighing of a spirited horse within.

“Fourth Master lived for many years in the Yuanmeng Empire and has adopted some of their ways. He’s fond of raising and training horses, and it’s said there’s a notorious black Destrier in his courtyard, swift as lightning and fierce of temperament,” Xixiang explained softly as she knocked at the door.

“Fourth Master, Madam has sent Master An to see you,” she announced.

“Enter,” came a calm voice from within, and the door swung open with a gentle psychic touch.

Within the expansive courtyard, there was even a small paddock. Fourth Master Lin, dressed in a scholar’s robe, sat before a desk covered in fine calligraphy paper, frowning in frustration as he attempted to sketch the lazy Destrier basking in the spring sunlight.

Noticing An Le, he nodded slightly and smiled, “Since we last met, you’ve become worthy of the title ‘Master.’”

An Le waved this off. “Please, Fourth Master, simply call me An Le.”

A glimmer of inspiration appeared in Fourth Master’s eyes as he looked at An Le. “I wish to paint my Destrier, but my skills are woefully lacking. Master An, are you versed in subjects other than bamboo?”