Chapter 12: Wushan Clouds

On the fifth day after her mother and grandmother came down the mountain, Yanru moved into the "new home" she had always dreamed of.

This house, perched on a peak of Jingzhong Mountain, had originally been the summer retreat of a local Jinling squire. However, Master Lu had ordered Ji Mingxiu to vacate the academy, restricting him to lectures. Jinling was crowded with people, so he asked the squire to rent out the vacant courtyard, quietly hiding his mistress. But he still feigned a secluded place to concentrate on his painting. Looking at the small yet exquisite courtyard, her fingers brushing against the bat-shaped ruyi wood carving on the window frame, the innocent Yanru was overwhelmed with joy. She proudly and stubbornly believed that Ji Mingxiu must be deeply in love with her to have secured such a fine place for her, simply so they could meet without interruption. "Ah, he's so good to me," Yanru clung to Ji Mingxiu's waist, resolute in her resolve to be his painterly goddess, so that he could paint many more paintings and leave his name in history.

Before, living in the academy, Yanru, despite being "in Cao's camp but her heart was with Han," still managed to attend class and review lessons daily, absorbing some of the words. Now that she had moved out, going to the academy required waking up earlier, dressing, and trudging along the bumpy mountain roads. Yanru gradually began to slack off. Except when Ji Mingxiu had classes, she would go along, otherwise, she would go half-heartedly, perfunctorily completing her homework and wasting every moment on painting Ji Mingxiu's portrait. She searched through all of Ji Mingxiu's paintings and discerned a unique characteristic: other paintings of beauties often featured backgrounds or objects framing the scenes, with the action typically depicting flowers, birds, or butterflies, capturing the stillness with moving emotion. However, Ji Mingxiu's paintings, with the exception of landscapes like "Bronze Sparrow Locking Spring," were typically unadorned. Set in a bleak, clean interior, the figures in his paintings might be reading, resting gently, or with their eyes wide open. Sometimes, Yanru felt bewildered. For each portrait, she had to follow Ji Mingxiu's instructions, posing as innocent, calm, and timid as a baby, standing motionless for an hour, only resting until her calves ached. She vaguely sensed that she wasn't a living person, more like a decorative object, a toy, manipulated under Ji Mingxiu's gaze. But thinking of her grandmother's advice, the aura of a painting goddess, and the comfort of living alone in the courtyard, she found inspiration and gradually became more relaxed. She even dared to partially remove her clothes, exposing her shoulders and arms, which attracted Ji Mingxiu's affection. As he painted, he imagined a beautiful woman with cloud-like hair and a blooming face, a warm hibiscus tent, and a beautiful body lying on the ground.

At that time, Ji Mingxiu still had a passion for Yanru. Aside from buying her gold jewelry, pearls, and large sums of money, and supporting the You family—all matters that concerned the lifeblood of the treasury—he practically granted her every wish. He treated Yanru like a wealthy family treats their long-haired lion cat: when he was in a good mood, he'd pamper her with all his might, but if the cat broke the treasures on the table, he'd beat and scold her, completely disregarding their past friendship. This was especially true on this day, when Yanru slipped into his off-limits painting storage room, pulled out a painting, and hurled it at him, "What is this?!"

Ji Mingxiu looked at her with a blank expression: "I said, no one can enter my warehouse."

Yanru sniffed hard and stiffened her neck: "Who is she? What is this?"

Ji Mingxiu stared into Yanru's eyes and said word by word: "I said, no one can enter my storeroom." He repeated, his voice more angry than before, this anger was suppressed under calmness, but Yanru still caught it. There were many of Ji Mingxiu's collections and his unsold paintings in the storeroom. They were all extremely precious things, and no one was allowed to approach them. Even if he wanted to appreciate and play with them, he had to wash his hands and wipe them with silk to take care of them. Yanru had been following the advice of her grandmother and mother these days. In order to understand Ji Mingxiu more thoroughly and cater to his preferences, she stole things again and again. She found the key and sneaked into the storeroom to examine the paintings, pondering his past style. Earlier, she had discovered a few suspicious scrolls in a box. Opening them, she saw the figure in the painting: fair-skinned, slender, with a round face like a silver basin and rosy cheeks, her eyes gazing shyly outward. Like Yanru, she stood beneath a pink wall and black tiles. Her movements and expression were a little more restrained than hers, but her features bore a resemblance to Yanru's. Yanru was startled. She flipped through the remaining paintings, all of them portraits of the woman herself. One even had the words "Waters of the Canghai, Clouds of Wushan" copied on it, clearly proving the extraordinary story between her and Ji Mingxiu.

Remembering Ji Mingxiu's solemn promise that he had only ever loved her, Yanru felt furious. A mixture of confusion, grievance, and absurdity filled her heart. She rushed to Ji Mingxiu to question him, reckless of the consequences. But when she actually saw Ji Mingxiu's anger, she panicked again. After all, she had been in the wrong first. So, she decided to go all out and burst into tears: "Xiu Lang, didn't you always say that I was your goddess of painting? In the past, you used to paint without inspiration, until you met me, and then you realized what it meant to add the finishing touch to a painting? But, but what is this? How can she be so similar to me? Did Xiu Lang just try to trick me all along?" Thinking of the high price of Ji Mingxiu's work, Yanru worried about having to pay for it if it was destroyed. She immediately sat down, gently threw the painting in her hand away, hugged Ji Mingxiu's knees, and cried bitterly.

Ji Mingxiu remained unmoved. Every item in his warehouse was priceless, especially his unsold paintings. Even in the big house in the north, only his wife could take care of them. He was too good to You Yanru, letting her become arrogant and dare to ignore his previous warnings. What's more, she was clumsy and unlearned, and knew nothing about collecting and caring for her. If he didn't teach her a lesson today, she would break things someday. He raised his eyebrows, freed one hand, pinched the girl's face hard, lifted it up forcefully, and looked into her eyes: "So what? I said, you must never enter my warehouse. Yanru, are you not being obedient?"

Yanru felt pain and cried, "Xiulang, I didn't mean it. I saw that Xiulang seemed to be unable to keep up with his painting recently, so I thought that taking a good look at Xiulang's previous paintings would help him understand more about his preferences. It's just that Xiulang's paintings are all in the storeroom, and I was... I was too concerned about Xiulang and made a mistake. Don't blame me, Xiulang, I was very careful when I went in and didn't break anything. Today, I just saw this painting, and the person in the painting seemed to be very close to Xiulang - but Xiulang said that he only likes me and that I am the goddess of painting. I was so angry that I brought the painting out. Alas, I am just too deeply in love with Xiulang, and I was too concerned about him and lost my composure."

Amidst her sobs, Ji Mingxiu's heart softened by Yanru's tears. He couldn't help but loosen his grip on her face, seeing several red fingerprints. Alas, he blamed himself for being too sympathetic to women, and hated seeing a beautiful woman in tears. Ji Mingxiu scratched Yanru's nose, and she understood. She put her fingers together, raised her hand to her chin, and coquettishly stuck out half of her tongue, like a coquettish little white dog. Inch by inch, her face moved inward from her knees, finally resting on his stomach, and asked pitifully, "Xiu Lang, so, am I really your only goddess of painting?"

Her innocence made Ji Mingxiu burst out laughing. Naturally, he wouldn't tell the truth, but instead mixed in some hypocritical words with the truth: "Yanru, you should know that since I am praised by the world as a master painter, besides paying nobles to invite me, it is also common for me to invite some girls to paint as practice. Unlike you, they are just the accumulation of past experiences."

Yanru pressed the issue further, "Then why did Xiulang still write about the clouds and rain at Wushan? Xiulang, don't forget, I am from Qiushui Academy, unlike those illiterate women out there. I know Yuan Zhen's saying that once you have seen the sea, all other waters are but puddles; except for Wushan, all other clouds are but mists. I also know it. It was just practice. Why did Xiulang leave those paintings behind? They caused misunderstandings and hurt our relationship."

Of course, I keep them to sell or give as gifts. My paintings are hard to come by, so why would I just throw them away? Ji Mingxiu stroked her hair. "That was just a random thought or feeling that came to me while I was painting. Yanru, the past is the past. You have to remember that you are a god, and they are just immortals."

Ah, you are a god, and they are but fairies. Such touching words! Yanru was so happy that she couldn't stop smiling, and snuggled into Ji Mingxiu's arms, kissing him coquettishly. She remembered these words firmly and later asked her mother to spread the word through the embroidery business, so that the people of Jinling City would know how deeply Ji Mingxiu loved her. On the one hand, it would help spread the word, paving the way for her to become a wife in the Ji Mansion in the future. On the other hand, it would make the people of Jinmengfang, who were always flirting with Ji Mingxiu, give up and give up the idea of ​​getting close to him.

Rumors, embellished by word of mouth, escalated into a story that Ji Mingxiu had won over the goddess of painting, becoming so captivated by her that he even gifted her the priceless "Bronze Sparrow Locking Spring," their special work of love. This lingering, sentimental gossip, carried by the autumn wind, reached the ears of a noblewoman in Handan City. The woman touched the kingfisher-embellished hairpin inlaid with precious stones and scoffed, "Qiushui Academy? Interesting! I'll have to prepare for a meeting with this goddess of painting."