Chapter Two: Undercurrents

In Yangzhou, the rain in late spring always carries a sticky dampness.

Raindrops slid down the upturned eaves of the Salt Transport Commissioner's Office, splashing into tiny puddles on the blue brick floor, reflecting the majestic images of the two stone lions in front of the gate.

The carved wooden windows in the back hall of the yamen were open, and the wind, carrying raindrops, blew in, stirring the salt tax ledgers spread out on the table, and adding a touch of chill to the faint sandalwood fragrance in the air.

The newly appointed Salt Commissioner of Lianghuai, Zhao Dexian, sat upright in the main seat on a pearwood armchair. His dark blue official robe was neatly pressed, and the egret badge on his chest gleamed in the sunlight.

In the celadon-glazed teacup beside him, the buds and leaves of Junshan Yinzhen tea had long since sunk to the bottom, and the tea had cooled down, but he hadn't touched it much.

His gaze fell on Shen Rulan, who sat at the lower end of the table. His narrow eyes scrutinized her, as if he were weighing a treasure waiting to be sold—or more accurately, weighing how much profit could be squeezed out of the Shen family, this piece of fat meat.

Shen Rulan wore a moon-white silk robe with a silver-gray patterned jacket over it. Her hair was tied in a braid of the same color at the back of her head and hung down her back, swaying gently with her breath.

She sat upright, her hands folded on her knees. Her face under the brim of her hat was still smooth, but there was a hint of composure in her eyes compared to when she was at the salt warehouse, as if she were facing not a high-ranking official of the imperial court who held great power in the salt administration, but an ordinary business partner.

“Young Master Shen is indeed a promising young man,” Zhao Dexian finally spoke, his voice carrying the drawn-out tone typical of officials. “The Shen family’s vast business empire was handed over to you from the old master, and not only did it not cause any trouble, but you also managed the salt fields and canal transport in an orderly manner. Even those troublesome characters in the canal gangs are convinced of your abilities. You are truly a formidable young man.” As he spoke, his fingers unconsciously rubbed the rim of his teacup, but his gaze never left Shen Rulan’s face, trying to find a trace of unease in his expression.

Shen Rulan bowed slightly, the movement small yet perfectly polite: "You flatter me, sir." Her voice remained deliberately low and clear, carrying just the right amount of humility. "The Shen family's prosperity today is entirely due to the virtues of our ancestors, the matriarch's leadership in the household, the support of our colleagues in Yangzhou, and the compassion and care of court officials like you, sir. I am young and inexperienced, merely guarding the family business, and dare not slacken in the slightest."

These words both praised Zhao Dexian and pointed out that the Shen family had deep roots and was not isolated or helpless.

Zhao Dexian chuckled softly, tapping his fingertips lightly on the table, making a "tap-tap" sound that broke the silence of the room: "I dare not presume to offer advice. However, since I have just arrived in Yangzhou and taken over the salt administration, I have found some problems while reviewing the old account books." He then changed the subject, his tone becoming more serious, "In recent years, the collection of salt taxes has been quite hampered. Some merchants, relying on their wealth and deep roots, always drag their feet on paying taxes to the court, and even try every means to underpay or evade their duties. Their desire to serve the court... seems to have faded somewhat."

He looked up at Shen Rulan, his eyes conveying a clear sense of reprimand—the "some merchants" he mentioned were obviously referring to the Shen family.

Shen Rulan sneered inwardly. This Zhao Dexian had only just taken office and was already eager to amass wealth; his methods were certainly direct. But on the surface, she remained respectful, even slightly frowning, revealing a hint of seriousness: "Your Excellency is wise. The Shen family has always strictly adhered to the laws of the court, and has never dared to delay or shortchange the salt tax. On the first day of each month, we have always paid the full amount of silver into the Salt Transport Office's treasury; the accounts are clear and can be verified at any time."

She paused, then changed the subject slightly, "However, Your Excellency, as a newly appointed official, is working diligently to eliminate the long-standing problems in Yangzhou's salt administration, and the Shen family deeply admires this intention. We have heard that Your Excellency is currently planning to repair the canal sluice gates—those sluice gates have been in disrepair for many years, and last year's flood season even damaged several grain transport boats; they certainly need repair. The Shen family is willing to donate 50,000 taels of silver to do our small part and to do something practical for the people of Yangzhou."

Fifty thousand taels.

A hint of satisfaction flashed in Zhao Dexian's eyes, a light so fleeting it was almost imperceptible before he quickly concealed it.

He picked up the now-cold teacup, took a sip, and slowly said, "Young Master Shen is indeed a man of great principle, understanding how to share the burdens of the court." But what he wanted was more than that—a one-time donation wasn't enough; he wanted long-term "tribute," the complete submission of the Shen family to his control. "However, the salt administration is complex, far more than just the overt taxes. The canal transport requires appeasing the canal gangs, anti-smuggling requires smoothing things over with the salt inspectors, even the allocation of salt embankments requires coordination with local officials… Every step requires money?"

He then changed the subject, mentioning another salt merchant: "Master Pan of Pan Family Baolong Salt Company came to see me the other day and complained a lot. He said that the market is tough these days, and some big families have monopolized several salt-producing areas, making it hard for small and medium-sized merchants to breathe. Young Master Shen, what do you think I should do about this?"

These words were both a form of pressure and a test—testing the Shen family's bottom line and also attempting to sow discord between the Shen family and other salt merchants so as to reap the benefits.

Shen Rulan picked up the teacup in front of her, gently blew on the non-existent steam, and said in a calm tone: "My lord, the allocation of salt banks is in accordance with the regulations of the imperial court. The Shen family's salt banks are all legally inherited from our ancestors, and we have always paid the salt taxes in accordance with the rules over the years without ever overstepping the bounds. As for what Pan Dongjia said about 'monopoly,' that is probably a misunderstanding—there are dozens of salt merchants in Yangzhou, each with their own salt banks and doing their own business. The Shen family has never prevented other families from operating normally."

Her words carried a subtle barb: "There are some merchants who always try to steal business by using underhanded methods, such as mixing sand into salt or lowering prices to disrupt the market. Perhaps the adults should investigate these things."

She didn't explicitly state that Baolong Company had done these things, but she left it at that, letting Zhao Dexian understand. At the same time, she seemingly casually mentioned, "A few days ago, Lord Cao, the Imperial Textile Commissioner of Jiangning, wrote to inquire about the current situation of salt affairs in Yangzhou, saying that if needed, he could put in a good word for Yangzhou merchants in the capital." Although the Cao family of Jiangning Imperial Textile Commissioner was not as prominent as before, they were still imperial merchants, had long-standing dealings with the Imperial Household Department, and had some connections in the capital.

Shen Rulan's words were a reminder to Zhao Dexian that the Shen family was not entirely without influence in the court and was not a pushover that he could easily manipulate.

The conversation, seemingly calm and uneventful, consisted of official jargon and platitudes, but in reality, it was turbulent beneath the surface, with every word containing a hidden barb.

It wasn't until the sun was setting that Shen Rulan got up to say goodbye. Zhao Dexian saw her to the door, his face full of smiles, but his eyes remained deep, as if hiding unspoken calculations.

Baolong Salt Shop was located on Chaoguan Street in the south of Yangzhou City, next to the canal wharf. It had an excellent location and was more impressive than ordinary salt merchants. The shop had a vermilion gate, a gold-painted signboard, and two half-person-high iron trees in the courtyard, exuding a nouveau riche ostentation.

But at this moment, the atmosphere inside the room was so oppressive that it was hard to breathe.

Pan Shizhang was slumped in a grand chair covered with a tiger skin. He was obese and wore a maroon brocade robe with gold thread. Two of the buttons on the collar had popped open, revealing his round belly.

He held a jade snuff bottle in his hand, but had no interest in smelling it. He just let out a heavy hum, and the snuff bottle spun rapidly between his fingers as if it were about to be crushed.

"Fifty thousand taels!" He slammed his hand on the table, causing the teacups to bounce and spill tea all over the floor. "The Shen family is certainly generous! Zhao Dexian just mentioned repairing the sluice gate, and they immediately offered fifty thousand taels! This is clearly a slap in my face!"

He was so angry that the fat on his face trembled, and his small eyes were filled with jealousy and hatred. "That brat Shen Rulan, he hasn't even grown his hair yet, but he dares to ride on my head and shit on me! Back in the day, when his father was alive, he had to be very polite to me!"

Wang Jingzhi, the accountant standing to the side, wore a gray cloth long gown and round-framed glasses, holding an account book in his hands, and was so frightened that he dared not breathe. He had served Pan Shizhang for ten years and knew his master's temper well—greedy and irritable, and unable to bear seeing others do better than him.

He cautiously advised, "Master, please calm down. The Shen family is deeply rooted. The old master laid a solid foundation when he was alive, controlling the salt fields and the canal transport, and the old lady keeps things stable in the mansion. Although Shen Rulan is young, she is ruthless. Last time, when the canal guild wanted to raise freight rates, she suppressed it with just a few words. People at the docks and salt fields respect her. Moreover..."

He paused, lowering his voice even further, "I heard that the Shen family has recently made contact with the Cao family of the Jiangning Textile Bureau, and Lord Cao even sent a congratulatory gift to Old Madam Shen."

“The Cao family?” Pan Shizhang’s small eyes narrowed, a hint of malice flashing across them. “You mean that good-for-nothing Cao Jin? Besides eating, drinking, having fun, and currying favor with people in the palace, what else can he do? Back then, the Cao family embezzled so much money. If it weren’t for the Emperor’s mercy, their property would have been confiscated long ago! The Shen family wants to rely on him? Hmph, they’ve really chosen the wrong backer!” He sneered disdainfully, but he was also somewhat guilty—no matter how down on his luck the Cao family was, they were still imperial merchants, which gave them an extra layer of connection with the court compared to him, a mere salt merchant.

He suddenly stood up from his chair, walked to the window, looked at the drizzling rain outside, and gritted his teeth, saying, "We'll raise the stakes again with Zhao Dexian! If the Shen family offers 50,000, we'll offer 60,000! I refuse to believe we can't satisfy this hungry wolf!"

He wanted Zhao Dexian to know that Baolong Company was more "sensible" and could bring him more benefits than the Shen family. "Also, have someone investigate! Keep a close eye on the Shen family's every move! Especially that brat Shen Rulan, I don't believe he's completely innocent! Whether the salt on the salt ships is adulterated, whether there are loopholes in the accounts, whether the canal transport routes are illegal... As long as you find any dirt on him, expose him to the fullest! I want him to know that he can't just become the boss of the Yangzhou salt merchants as he pleases!"

Wang Jingzhi nodded hurriedly: "Yes, boss, I will arrange for someone to investigate right away. However... the Shen family's accounts are always meticulous, and the saltworks are strictly managed, so it may be difficult to find any evidence."

"We have to find him, even if it's hard!" Pan Shizhang's eyes widened. "Even if we can't find solid evidence, we have to spread some rumors! For example, say that Shen Rulan is corrupt and lawless at such a young age, or that the Shen family's salt is of poor quality, making those merchants afraid to cooperate with him! In short, we can't let him get away with this!"

Wang Jingzhi dared not offer any further advice, and could only bow in agreement before leaving.

Only Pan Shizhang remained in the inner room. He stared at the rain outside the window, his fat face contorted, his eyes filled with resentment. He had run Baolong Company for many years, always hoping to replace the Shen family and become the leading salt merchant in Yangzhou. But the appearance of Shen Rulan had shattered his hopes. He was absolutely unwilling to accept this.

After leaving the Salt Transport Commissioner's office, Shen Rulan's blue sedan chair slowly drove through the streets of Yangzhou.

The sedan chair's curtains were made of Suzhou embroidery with subtle patterns, which kept out the wind, rain, and noise from outside. Inside, there were thick brocade cushions, making it very comfortable to sit on.

But Shen Rulan had no mind to enjoy herself. She leaned against the sedan chair wall, rubbing her temples. Zhao Dexian's calculating eyes, Pan Shizhang's greedy face, and their open and covert attacks swirled in her mind, making her feel tired.

Over the years, she has managed the Shen family as a man, dealing with countless difficulties and schemes, and has long been accustomed to surviving in the cracks of the business world and the political arena.

She could handle Zhao Dexian's extortion and Pan Shizhang's jealousy—50,000 taels of silver was a lot, but it could temporarily appease Zhao Dexian and prevent him from causing trouble for the Shen family in the salt affairs; as long as she paid close attention, she could also resolve Pan Shizhang's petty tricks.

Outside the sedan chair came the hustle and bustle of the marketplace: the shouts of vendors, the jingling of carriage bells, and the laughter of pedestrians, all blending together to create a vibrant, lively atmosphere.

Shen Rulan subconsciously lifted a corner of the sedan curtain, her gaze sweeping over the shops on the street—silk shops, teahouses, pastry shops… Suddenly, her gaze stopped on the signboard of a calligraphy and painting shop—"Moxiangzhai".

In that instant, the figure I saw at the entrance of "Moxiangzhai" today quietly appeared before my eyes.

Her light blue cloth skirt, her long hair tied up with a plain silver hairpin, and her eyes that were both melancholy and clear, were like an orchid growing in a secluded valley—cool, resilient, yet with a hint of fragility.

And then there's the painting "Ink Orchid," with its clear and elegant brushstrokes and extraordinary style. With just a few strokes, it perfectly captures the spirit of the orchid.

For some reason, thinking of that figure and that painting, Shen Rulan's restlessness and depression gradually subsided.

It was as if she had found a corner in the chaotic world where she could calm down.

"Chen Fu," she suddenly spoke, her voice carrying a barely perceptible gentleness.

Shen Fu, who was standing beside the sedan chair, immediately stopped and bowed, saying, "Young master, this old servant is here." He had followed Shen Rulan for many years and was familiar with her temperament. He noticed the change in her tone and felt a little puzzled.

Shen Rulan lowered the sedan curtain, leaned against the brocade cushion, and spoke in a calm tone, as if she were instructing a routine business transaction: "The Miss Su I met at 'Moxiangzhai' today, her paintings are indeed excellent. The newly renovated 'Tingsong Garden' in the mansion is in need of some elegant calligraphy and paintings to adorn it. Go and inquire whether you can ask her to paint a batch of flower-and-bird and landscape miniatures. Pay her generously, don't mistreat her."

She paused, then added, "Remember, only talk about the paintings. Don't disturb her peace, don't mention anything else about the Shen family, and don't let her know anything unusual about my identity." She didn't want that aloof and elegant woman to be involved in the Shen family's conflicts and her secrets.

Shen Fu understood immediately and replied, "Yes, young master, this old servant understands. This old servant will make the arrangements right away and will certainly not disappoint you." He had served Shen Rulan for many years and knew that she was aloof and rarely showed such care to strangers, especially women. This Miss Su clearly held a special place in the young master's heart.

A few days later, in the Su family courtyard in Lotus Lane.

Su Moqing stood by the window, holding a prescription in her hand, her brows furrowed.

This is a new prescription from her father, Su Wenyuan. She went to the best pharmacy in Yangzhou, "Renxintang," yesterday to ask Doctor Li to prescribe it.

Dr. Li said that his father's illness could not be delayed any longer and that he needed to be treated with some expensive medicinal herbs, otherwise it would damage his health.

However, the ingredients on the prescription—ginseng, angelica, and donkey-hide gelatin—are all quite expensive, costing a total of three taels of silver.

The family's savings had long been exhausted. The two taels of silver from the sale of the painting last time were only enough to buy some ordinary medicine and daily necessities. Now, they couldn't even scrape together one tael of silver.

Looking at her father lying in bed coughing, she felt a sharp pain in her heart, as if she were being stabbed with needles.

She began to consider which neighbors might be able to lend her some money temporarily.

Aunt Zhang at the alley entrance is a very kind person; she even brought her a bowl of chicken soup when her father was sick last time. Grandpa Wang next door is a carpenter who often helps her with repairs. But they are just ordinary people, and their lives aren't easy. How could she possibly ask to borrow money?

Just as she was frowning in worry, a soft knocking sound came from outside the courtyard gate, "knock knock knock," very light, yet very rhythmic.

Su Moqing was stunned for a moment. Who could it be at this time?

She walked to the courtyard gate, carefully opened it a crack, and saw an old servant standing outside wearing a gray cloth robe with a calm face, holding a brocade box and an invitation in his hands.

She recognized him as the old servant of the Shen family. A few days ago, he was the one who had been following the young master Shen outside the "Ink Fragrance Studio".

"Miss Su," Shen Fu bowed respectfully upon seeing Su Moqing, "This old servant is Shen Fu from the Shen family. I have come to visit you on the orders of my young master."

He handed over the invitation and brocade box, saying, "My young master greatly admires your painting skills, young lady. Recently, a new garden has been renovated in the manor, and he wishes to adorn it with calligraphy and paintings. He specially sent this old servant to request that you paint a batch of small flower-and-bird and landscape paintings. This is a list of the required subjects and sizes, as well as a deposit. My young master said that you have a unique talent and can choose your own subjects and styles, without having to be bound by the list."

Su Moqing took the brocade box; it felt heavy in her hand. She opened it and found twenty ingots of pure silver, each weighing five taels, totaling a full one hundred taels!

This amount far exceeds the fees for calligraphy and painting in the market. It's enough for her to pay all her father's medical expenses, and she can still save a lot of money to buy him some nutritional supplements.

She opened the invitation again, and inside was a list of paintings that needed to be painted—two landscapes and three flower and bird paintings, ranging in size from three to five feet. The requirements were very clear, but they did not restrict her creative freedom. It even said, "The subject matter can be added or removed according to the young lady's wishes."

This is not simply buying paintings; it is a timely act of kindness and generosity.

Su Moqing was shaken, and her eyes welled up with tears.

She couldn't understand why Young Master Shen, whom she had only met once, would treat her so kindly. Was it because he genuinely admired her painting skills, or was there another reason?

"Young Master Shen... this is too much trouble." Su Moqing's voice was a little choked up, and her hand holding the brocade box trembled slightly. "My skills are shallow, and I am afraid I am not able to bear such a heavy responsibility and will fail to live up to Young Master Shen's expectations." She subconsciously wanted to refuse, as the reward was too generous and made her feel uneasy.

Shen Fu smiled gently and said sincerely, "Miss is too modest. My young master rarely praises other people's painting skills so highly. The other day, he saw your painting 'Ink Orchid' at 'Moxiangzhai' and told me about it afterward, saying that your painting 'has the spirit of the ancients and is not vulgar at all.' This deposit was specially ordered by my young master. Miss, you don't need to refuse. Just take it as my young master's recognition of your painting skills."

He paused, then added, "There's one more thing. The young master said that the library in the manor houses many authentic paintings by previous masters, such as the first editions of the 'Xuanhe Painting Manual' and the 'Mustard Seed Garden Manual of Painting.' If you need references for your artwork, you can go there at any time. The library is located on the east side of the outer courtyard, in a secluded corner. Apart from the servants who sweep and clean, very few people come and go, so it's very quiet. The writing brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones in the library are all of the finest quality. If you find it inconvenient to paint at home, you can paint there, saving you the trouble of traveling back and forth."

Inviting her to the Shen residence? Su Moqing's heart tightened. The Shen family was one of the top salt merchant families in Yangzhou, with a distinguished lineage, while she was just a "daughter of a disgraced official" whose family had fallen on hard times. For a lone woman to frequently visit the homes of the wealthy would inevitably attract gossip and be against propriety.

Seeing her hesitation, Shen Fu quickly explained, "Miss, there's no need to worry. Young Master knows what you're thinking and has specifically instructed that the library has a separate side door for entry and exit, so you don't have to go through the inner courtyard and won't run into any of the Shen family's women. Moreover, Young Master is very busy and will not disturb you unless you need him. You just need to focus on your painting, and I will take care of everything else."

Having said all that, Shen Fu's tone was considerate and thoughtful, taking her needs into account in every way. Refusing would seem cold and even petty.

Su Moqing looked down at the brocade box in her hand. The silver inside gleamed with a warm luster; it was her father's life-saving money. The original painting manuals in the Shen family's library were the learning opportunities she had always dreamed of—those rare painting manuals were something that ordinary painters could hardly even see once, let alone study in detail.

Worries about her family's financial difficulties, her urgent need for substantial payment for her writing, and her genuine yearning for art ultimately overcame her unease.

She took a deep breath, raised her head, and bowed to Shen Fu, her tone firm: "In that case, thank you for your care, Young Master Shen. I will do my utmost to live up to your expectations."

Shen Fu smiled with satisfaction and quickly stepped aside, saying, "You're too kind, Miss. If it's convenient for you, you can go to the Shen residence tomorrow. This old servant will meet you outside."

After seeing Shen Fu off, Su Moqing returned to the room, carefully put the hundred taels of silver into the inner compartment of the wooden box, and placed the list and invitation in the most conspicuous place on the desk.

She walked to the bedside, looked at her father's sleeping face, and gently took his hand—his hand was cold, but it had a familiar warmth.

“Father,” she murmured, “we’re saved. You’ll get better soon.”

The rain was still drizzling outside the window, but in Su Moqing's heart, it was as if a ray of sunshine had shone in, dispelling the gloom of the past few days.

The rain finally stopped the next morning.

The sky cleared, and sunlight shone through the clouds onto the streets and alleys of Yangzhou. The bluestone pavement was washed clean by the rain and gleamed with a faint luster.

Su Moqing changed into a clean light blue cloth dress, combed her hair neatly, and still held it up with that plain silver hairpin. She carried a small cloth bag in her hand, which contained her usual paintbrushes and an inkstone—although Shen Fu said that the pavilion had everything she needed, she still preferred to use her own things.

The main gate of the Shen Mansion is located in the most prosperous area of ​​Dongguan Street. The vermilion gate is over ten feet high, and the plaque above the gate tower, which reads "Shi Du Zhong Zhen" (meaning "Loyalty and Integrity for Generations"), shines brightly in the sunlight. The stone lions on both sides stand majestically, and two guards dressed in blue stand at the gate with solemn expressions, exuding the majesty of a wealthy family.

Su Moqing stood at the door, feeling a little nervous, and subconsciously clenched the cloth bag in her hand.

Just then, Shen Fu strode out from inside the door with a gentle smile on his face: "Miss Su, you've arrived. Come with this old servant, I'll take you to the library." He led Su Moqing into the Shen residence through a side door, avoiding the noise of the main gate.

Stepping into the Shen family mansion, Su Moqing truly understood the meaning of the word "wealthy family".

The courtyard features lush artificial hills, flowing streams, and pavilions and towers arranged in a harmonious and exquisite manner.

The bluestone path under her feet was smooth and flat, with precious flowers and trees planted on both sides. There were peonies in full bloom, orchids with elegant postures, and some exotic flowers and plants that she couldn't name. The air was filled with a faint fragrance of flowers, which was fresh and pleasant.

The servants, dressed in uniform, bowed respectfully to Shen Fu, showing no excessive curiosity and simply going about their business quietly.

Su Moqing followed behind Shen Fu, her gaze cautiously sweeping over the surrounding scenery, secretly marveling at the contrast between such wealth and splendor and the poverty of her own courtyard.

After walking for about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, Shen Fu stopped in front of a small vermilion building: "Miss Su, this is the library."

Su Moqing looked up and saw that the library had three floors, with upturned eaves, carved beams and painted rafters. A plaque with the words "Wan Juan Lou" (Ten Thousand Scrolls Pavilion) hung above the door, with strong and powerful characters that were clearly the work of a famous calligrapher.

There is a small courtyard in front of the pavilion, where several green bamboos are planted. When the wind blows, the bamboo leaves rustle, adding to the elegance.

Shen Fu pushed open the door and led Su Moqing into the pavilion.

The room was spacious and bright, with sunlight streaming in through the tall windows and falling on the rows of bookshelves.

The bookshelves were filled with books, from classics and historical texts to poetry, songs and prose, and various miscellaneous notes and painting manuals, a dazzling array of countless titles.

A large painting table was set up by the window, on which were placed fine Xuan paper, various pigments, brushes of different sizes, and a finely carved Duan inkstone. The ink in the inkstone had been ground and was emitting a faint fragrance.

"Young lady, are you satisfied with this place? If you need anything, please tell this old servant," Shen Fu asked.

Su Moqing walked to the painting table, gently stroking the smooth Xuan paper, her heart filled with joy: "This is very good, thank you for your trouble, Steward Shen."

"You're too kind, young lady," Shen Fu said with a smile. "This old servant will be waiting outside the pavilion. If you need anything, just call out." With that, he withdrew and gently closed the door behind him.

Su Moqing stayed alone in the library. First, she went to the bookshelf and carefully looked through the painting manuals.

The first edition of the Xuanhe Painting Manual, though the paper had yellowed, was still extremely well preserved; the color-printed version of the Mustard Seed Garden Manual of Painting still had vibrant colors, and each picture was drawn with great detail; there were also some unknown rare painting manuals that recorded many long-lost brushwork techniques and skills, which she found fascinating.

After an unknown amount of time, she reluctantly returned to her painting table, spread out the Xuan paper, picked up a Huzhou brush, dipped it in some light ink, and began to conceive her painting.

Today she wants to paint a picture titled "Spring Rain in Jiangnan", depicting the fresh scenery of Jiangnan after the rain - this is what she thought of on the way yesterday, and it is also the subject she is best at.

She picked up her brush, dipped it in ink, and with the tip of the brush on the rice paper, gently outlined the contours of the distant mountains.

With ink of varying shades and lines flowing smoothly and naturally, a hazy distant mountain soon appeared on the paper.

Just as she was about to dip her brush in indigo to color the distant mountains, the pavilion door was gently pushed open.

Su Moqing was startled, her hand trembled, and the tip of her pen drew an extra ink mark on the paper. She looked up and saw Shen Rulan walk in. Today he wore a Ning silk robe the color of the sky after rain, with elegant bamboo leaf patterns embroidered on the collar and cuffs. He wasn't wearing a melon-shaped hat, and his long, black braid was tied with a jade belt, hanging down his back. He lacked the sharpness of the business world and the formality of officialdom, and possessed a more leisurely scholarly air, which added a touch of gentleness to his already handsome face.

“Miss Su, I’m sorry to bother you.” Shen Rulan saw the ink marks on her brush and a hint of apology flashed in her eyes. “I was just passing by and saw that the door was open, so I came in to take a look.”

Su Moqing quickly stood up and bowed, saying, "Young Master Shen, you are too kind. It was Moqing's own carelessness."

“Miss, there’s no need for such formalities.” Shen Rulan walked to the bookshelf, took down a copy of “Ten Bamboo Studio Painting Manual”, and handed it to Su Moqing. “This manual is well-printed, especially in the coloring and composition of flowers and birds, which is quite unique. If you paint flowers and birds, you may find some inspiration in it.”

Su Moqing took the painting manual and gently opened it. The flowers inside were lifelike, the colors were cleverly matched, and the brushwork was delicate and exquisite, which made her eyes light up: "Thank you, young master. This painting manual will be of great help to me."

"I'm glad you like it, Miss." Shen Rulan smiled slightly, placed the painting manual on the table next to the painting table, then walked to a rosewood chair not far from the painting table and sat down. She picked up a volume of "Zhaoming Anthology" that she had brought with her. "Please continue painting, Miss. I'll read here for a while and won't disturb you."

She didn't leave, nor did she talk much with Su Moqing, as if she really just wanted to find a quiet place to read.

Su Moqing hesitated for a moment, then returned to her painting table and continued painting. At first, she was a little nervous, feeling like someone was watching her, and her brushstrokes were somewhat stiff. But gradually, she noticed that although Shen Rulan's gaze would occasionally fall on her, there was no frivolity or scrutiny in it, only pure appreciation, which calmed her down and allowed her to immerse herself in her creation.

Occasionally, she would murmur to herself while looking at the painting, such as, "Is the ink here too dark?" or "This flower doesn't seem to be in a natural pose."

Whenever this happens, if Shen Rulan happens to hear it, she will put down her book and offer a few insightful observations.

"The ink color of the distant mountains can be made lighter, and the 'broken ink method' can be used to blend the colors, which can better reflect the hazy feeling of the distant mountains after the rain."

"The petals of this lotus flower can be rendered using the 'boneless method' from the 'Ten Bamboo Studio Painting Manual,' which involves rendering the petals directly with color without outlining the contours, making them appear more vibrant."

His advice always hit the nail on the head, enlightening Su Moqing. She never expected that this "young master" from a salt merchant family not only knew how to paint, but knew it very well, was familiar with various painting techniques and schools, and was even more proficient than some professional painters.

Time slipped by unnoticed, and before we knew it, it was noon.

Su Moqing put down his brush, looked at the "Spring Rain in Jiangnan" painting in front of him, and smiled with satisfaction.

The Jiangnan region depicted in the painting features distant mountains shrouded in mist, nearby waters veiled in haze, willows sprouting new buds along the banks, peach blossoms in full bloom, and a small boat gliding slowly across the water, creating a serene and elegant atmosphere.

She was about to ask Shen Rulan a few questions when she accidentally bumped her elbow into the water bowl next to her. "Ouch!"

Clear water was immediately splashed out, wetting the corner of the crabapple that had just been drawn on the lower right corner of the drawing paper.

Su Moqing panicked immediately. This was the culmination of her entire morning's work! She frantically tried to pick up the Xuan paper and use her sleeve to absorb the water stains.

Just then, a hand with distinct knuckles reached out and gently grasped her wrist. The fingertips were slightly cool, but the strength was steady, stopping her movement.

"Don't rush, the more you wipe, the more it will smudge." Shen Rulan had appeared beside her at some point, her tone calm and reassuring.

She quickly walked to the bookshelf, took a stack of dry Xuan paper, laid it on the water-soaked area, and then gently absorbed the excess ink with a clean brush. Her movements were skillful and nimble, preventing the water stains from spreading further.

As they got closer, Su Moqing could smell a very faint, cool fragrance emanating from Shen Rulan. It was a scent different from cosmetics and incense, mixed with the aroma of books and ink, fresh and pleasant. She could even see his lowered eyelashes, long and thick, like two small fans, and his clean-shaven chin, his skin so delicate it didn't seem like a man's.

"Fortunately, the color isn't too dark." Shen Rulan carefully checked it over, breathed a sigh of relief, and looked up at Su Moqing. "Once the paper is completely dry, use a light pink to lightly blend it, turning the water stains into dewdrops on the begonia petals. Perhaps this can turn the flaws into a special effect and add a touch of liveliness to the painting."

She then realized she was still holding Su Moqing's wrist, and quickly released it as if burned, a faint blush rising to her ears. She coughed lightly, turned around, and avoided Su Moqing's gaze: "Excuse me."

Su Moqing's heart was pounding, and her cheeks were burning. She quickly lowered her head, looking at the hem of her clothes, and said in a voice as soft as a mosquito's buzz, "It was Moqing's own carelessness. Thank you for your help, young master."

The atmosphere inside the pavilion became subtly awkward, yet tinged with an indescribable ambiguity.

Sunlight streamed through the window, bathing the two of them, and the scent of ink in the air seemed to intensify.

Just then, Shen Fu's voice came from outside the pavilion: "Young Master, the Old Madam has sent someone to say that the Cao family of Jiangning has sent a reply. The Old Madam requests that you go to Songtao Garden immediately."

Shen Rulan's expression turned serious, instantly regaining her usual composure. She turned to look at Su Moqing, her tone returning to normal: "Miss Su, there is an urgent matter at the manor, I must take my leave first. You..."

"Please continue, young master. Moqing should also return now," Su Moqing said hastily, as she wanted to take this opportunity to ease the current awkwardness.

Shen Rulan nodded, her gaze falling on the painting "Spring Rain in Jiangnan" on the easel, a hint of appreciation flashing in her eyes: "Your painting is excellent, young lady. If it's convenient tomorrow, you can come here to paint again." She paused, then added, "Have Shen Fu prepare a car to take you back; it'll be safer on the road." Her tone left no room for refusal.

Su Moqing did not refuse and said softly, "Thank you, young master."

As Su Moqing left the Shen residence, she sat in the carriage, her mind in turmoil. The timely help from "Young Master Shen," his profound insights into painting, his polite and restrained demeanor, the momentary panic he had just caused, and the cool aura he exuded when he approached—all these were like pebbles thrown into the calm lake of her heart, creating ripples.

She couldn't understand why Shen Rulan was so attentive to her. Was it genuine appreciation for her painting skills, or was there another reason? This question, like a fog, shrouded her heart. Yet, at the same time, an inexplicable attraction was quietly growing within her—she found herself somewhat looking forward to seeing him again the next day.

The carriage slowly drove through the streets and alleys of Yangzhou, the sunlight shining on the curtains, warm and gentle.

Su Moqing gently lifted a corner of the carriage curtain, looking at the bustling city scene outside, and the corners of her mouth unconsciously turned up slightly.