Chapter Sixty-Two: Beauty and the Painting

Blood Snow was at a loss for words at his remark and could only shift her thoughts to another matter. They had said the one inside the sedan was “Lord Yu”—could the woman within truly be that Lord Yu? And, moreover, such a bold and unconventional woman?

Inside the golden, intricately-carved sedan, aside from the woman whose exposed skin stirred the imagination, there was also a man with a distinguished appearance. He held a fine wolf-hair brush, its tip dipped in brown ink, and danced it across the woman’s bare back with fluid, graceful strokes—perhaps writing, yet more as if painting.

The crowd watched intently, as though this act was not sacrilege, but rather something to be revered. White gauze fluttered about, and a sleeve of reddish-brown robe emerged—a garment elegant beyond compare, imbued with the quiet refinement of a learned gentleman.

The man’s features were partly veiled, yet one could sense that the brush in his hand had been given life, moving without pause. Upon the woman’s fair back, a beautiful scene seemed to unfold, compelling the onlookers to imagine. But what they imagined was not something base and arousing; instead, it was a serene and graceful tableau.

“Is this, then, the true essence of the ‘Dance-and-Paint Festival’?” Listening to Ji Wu Qing’s soft description, she too felt the tranquil atmosphere settle around them. It was as if they were not at a busy street corner, but lost among mountains and streams.

“Just empty mystique,” Ji Wu Qing remarked dismissively.

Evidently, another young woman agreed with Ji Wu Qing’s sentiment.

“Dance-and-Paint Festival? It’s nothing but a pretense for you men to indulge your desires! Cloaked in the guise of high art, but still serving base motives. I had thought Lord Yu of our Peiyuan City was a refined gentleman—who knew he was just another shameless scoundrel!” A young lady charged forward, sword in hand, her voice ringing with righteous indignation.

She leapt into the crowd, making straight for the scarlet-robed man in the sedan. Her speed and force were impressive at first glance, but it was clear she was only a pampered daughter, her display more for show than substance—though certainly enough to startle the crowd.

Yet, before the surrounding guards could intervene, Lord Yu calmly pointed his brush at the attacking girl. The tip, still stained with brown ink, struck her delicate yet willful face—

A piercing scream rang out. The brush had left a conspicuous brown mark at the corner of her eye, resembling a birthmark, which, paired with her otherwise unremarkable looks, made her appear almost grotesque.

“Dark complexion, sturdy build, coarse features, and a loud voice—even if you stripped yourself bare and climbed onto my sedan, I would not be moved by your flesh,” Lord Yu said softly, drawing aside the sedan’s curtain with a long, elegant hand—like a work of art itself.

“You… How shameless! For the fatherly official of Peiyuan to utter such disgraceful words…” she sputtered, indignant.

“Say what you will. Even if you climbed onto my sedan yourself, I would not deign to paint on you,” Lord Yu replied, his voice calm, distant—like a hermit sage. Even painting on the human form, an act frowned upon by the world, seemed utterly natural for him, devoid of any sense of impropriety.

“Nonsense! I am a proper young lady—how could I be so shameless? Do you take me for the brazen woman at your side?” the girl retorted, her face flushed yet still haughty.

She glanced contemptuously at the woman half-concealed behind white gauze, whose figure was prostrate, hair tumbling down, her features obscured—making her all the more intriguing to the onlookers.

“This young lady’s words are harsh. Lord Yu is merely painting; there’s no need for such spite,” someone in the crowd murmured.

“Indeed—she’s just a girl…”

The onlookers began to murmur, casting curious glances at the agitated girl.

“Mind your own business! You’re all depraved and shameless!” she retorted.

“If my words have so enraged you, is it because you wish to be my canvas?” Lord Yu said, reaching out to the woman lying on the bedding—gently lifting her, his arm encircling her waist while covering her front with a brocade quilt up to her neck.

The woman revealed a delicate, fair face, eyes closed, lashes long as fine rain. Lord Yu held her gently, displaying only her bare back to the crowd.

Her jade back was smooth and fragile, its slender lines evoking pity. Yet the crowd’s gaze was not fixed on her graceful form, but on the exquisite landscape painted upon her back—a tightly composed scene spreading over her pearly skin, the painting so vivid it seemed to transport one into a tranquil countryside.

The lines were elegant and refined: a manor, with water and mountains, trees and flowers, sky and clouds, and human figures.

Such artistry—would it not be even better on paper?

She thought that beauty and art were but a thin veneer apart. Yet here, someone had painted upon beauty itself, uniting both woman and painting.

“This is my latest work, ‘Beauty Amidst Mountains and Rivers,’” Lord Yu announced calmly, his tone modest but tinged with delight. “Miss Qiu, with your talents, how would you name this painting? For if it were you, there’d be no beauty—only the scene.”

Without the beauty, the painting would be nothing but a landscape.

“You… Who wants to be your canvas? I certainly do not!” Miss Qiu was so incensed by his words she stomped her foot, all decorum forgotten.

“As long as you recognize your own limitations. But you should apologize to Miss Moon for your earlier remarks,” Lord Yu said, his tone calm yet leaving no room for refusal. He gently settled Miss Moon on the bedding, covering her up as if she were a precious treasure.

Indeed, she was his treasure—his art.

“Why should I apologize to her?” Miss Qiu’s eyes widened in disbelief. She’d already been humiliated in front of everyone, and now he expected her to apologize?

“If you insist on a reason, it’s simply this: I am the official; you are the citizen,” Lord Yu replied, his voice mild but brooking no dissent.

Miss Qiu’s eyes reddened with fury, and the confrontation reached an impasse.

“Who would have thought that in the Ji Kingdom, there could be such an eccentric official? Truly a great nation,” she mused, now understanding the full sequence of events.

Lord Yu was an art-obsessed man, enamored not only with painting but with painting upon the human body. In other words, he was a devotee of body art.

“Hmph, such a peculiar obsession, yet the townsfolk support him so. Is it a blessing for the state, or for the people?” Ji Wu Qing snorted, though without contempt.

“He’s merely a lover of body art—I see no real harm in it,” said Blood Snow. “Some are enamored of poetry, some of music and chess; Lord Yu, it seems, is captivated by painting, especially on the human form.”

“You’re quite forgiving, Xue’er,” Ji Wu Qing’s expression turned curious. “If one day he became obsessed with painting on human bones, would Peiyuan not become a city of skeletons?”

“Impossible. A true lover of art would never treat his works with violence. Even if he did paint on bones, those bones would be his treasures, not mere horrors in others’ eyes,” Blood Snow replied seriously.

“You can turn even a jest into a lesson,” Ji Wu Qing said, unable to resist ruffling her hair. How could he not love such a thoughtful girl?

Meanwhile, Lord Yu and Miss Qiu were still at an impasse. Unwilling to accept such humiliation, the girl snapped, “So this is how an official bullies the people! Not only did Lord Yu commit such a base act before all, but he has continually insulted me. I’d like to see what spell this woman on your sedan has cast over you!”

With that, she brandished her sword—her face, now marked and grotesque, made her look almost comical, a clown putting on a show. She lunged at the sedan in a most unrefined manner, an act difficult to witness.

Naturally, the guards quickly pulled her aside, clearly not taking her seriously.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing? Let go of me this instant!” Miss Qiu’s protests gradually faded as the guards dragged her away, finally bringing this uproar to an end.

“I wonder, how long do our two esteemed guests intend to keep spectating?” came a voice.

Blood Snow started slightly. “Is he speaking to us?”

“It’s not a question—he simply finds it odd that two outsiders have come to Peiyuan for the Dance-and-Paint Festival,” Ji Wu Qing replied calmly.

“I’d heard the city was lively, so I brought my wife to see the sights—never expecting such a spectacle to greet us,” Ji Wu Qing answered, his tone relaxed, almost roguish.

“Might the two guests come down for a meeting?”

“It grows late, and my wife is tired.”

“In that case, do not blame me for detaining you both,” Lord Yu said, and at his words, the guards before and behind the sedan moved swiftly, targeting the two figures seated calmly on the rooftop.

What a quick-tempered man—ready to use force at the slightest disagreement.