Yan Zhibai's wrist hovered in the air, and the brush tip, heavily dipped in ink, flowed with an almost manic passion, freely splashing ink across the snow-white Xuan paper.

Xiao Yunshuo recovered from his shock, repeatedly pondering those few lines of poetry, before finally speaking after a long while:

"Who wrote this poem? How could it possess such grandeur?"

Qin Zhaoyue was watching Yan Zhibai paint with great interest when she heard this and casually replied:

"Written by Helian Chaolu, who arrived in the capital one day earlier than you, from the northwestern border region."

Xiao Yunshuo looked bewildered. "Such poetic talent is worthy of a master. I have never heard of such an amazing and brilliant person before."

"You didn't know? She speaks highly of you, and even said that her writing is not as good as yours."

Qin Zhaoyue covered her mouth and exclaimed in surprise, looking quite astonished, but she knew exactly what was going on in her mind.

That was Helian Chaolu's forced praise; it's unclear whether the foreign princess's knowledge could withstand it.

Xiao Yunshuo frowned slightly, her tone filled with genuine confusion:

"I have indeed never heard of her, but judging from this poem alone, I am ashamed to admit that I am inferior to her in terms of talent and artistic conception..."

"Hey!" Qin Zhaoyue waved her hand to interrupt, "Princess Xiao is being too modest. Excessive modesty is arrogance, and that's no good."

Just then, the Fourth Princess, Qin Zhaoshu, who had been silent almost all afternoon, took the lead in speaking.

"Miss Xiao is renowned for her talent. It is said that she has received the true teachings of a hermit, and she must be exceptionally accomplished in the way of governing the world."

Qin Zhaoyue remained outwardly calm, but secretly gave her fourth sister a thumbs up.

Their identities quickly spread, and Yan Zhibai then boldly painted in front of the inscribed wall, attracting the attention of many literati on the second floor of the restaurant.

It's easy to imagine that every word spoken in the conversation would be spread.

The reason for interrupting Xiao Yunshuo's modesty was to solidify her reputation as a talented woman.

The fourth sister's words set aside the debate over poetry and led to policy essays.

Ha, how insidious!

The poems were all presented by Qin Zhaoyue, so you know how amazing they are.

So no matter how well Xiao Yunshuo performed in the provincial examination, he was definitely inferior in poetry.

With this "stain" existing, controversy is inevitable.

For the time being, she could only think of this one effect as a safety net. As for whether the Empress Mother had any other purposes, Qin Zhaoyue couldn't guess.

Xiao Yunshuo shook his head firmly, lowering his posture even further: "Talented men are as numerous as carp crossing a river, Your Highness flatters me, I dare not accept such praise..."

Qin Zhaoyue waved her hand to interrupt again, "Shh! Don't disturb Young Master Yan while he's painting."

Thus, Xiao Yunshuo could not say anything more, but remained silent, pondering his doubts.

Yan Zhibai was painting with great enthusiasm.

With sweeping strokes, he boldly splashed ink.

The ink, in varying shades, instantly splashed out a vast and desolate night, enveloping the sleeping camp.

The central stroke outlines the lines, the brush moves like dragons and snakes.

The lines are strong and powerful, and the outlines of the camps are faintly visible in the ink, exuding an austere atmosphere.

A small brush dipped in ochre and cinnabar adds the finishing touches.

The flickering lights quickly dotted the camp, like undying starlight in a dream.

He then used a dry brush to erase the blurry figure leaning against the tent, the back of which was upright but revealed a silent weariness.

His brushstrokes are swift and fluid, switching between different styles with ease.

Sometimes, splashes of ink are used to render large areas of shadow, creating a depressing atmosphere;

Sometimes he would use a dry, unrefined brush to depict the withered old tree beside the camp, its gnarled branches resembling struggling arms;

Finally, in the camp in the center of the picture, a hazy profile facing the mirror is rendered with very light ink.

The mirror didn't reflect a face, but rather a strand of snow-white hair...

The entire painting is characterized by its unrestrained brushstrokes and profound artistic conception.

Although it is somewhat rough due to the time constraints, and the details are not perfect.

However, the solemn atmosphere of the barracks and the tragic desolation of heroes in their twilight years blend perfectly with the artistic conception of the poems inscribed on the wall, forming a harmonious whole!

"call……"

After finishing the painting, Yan Zhibai let out a long breath.

Fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and he seemed completely exhausted, yet his eyes shone with an astonishing brightness.

Gazing at his own painting, he realized that the details were far from ideal compared to his usual works, but its spirit already matched that of a magnificent poem.

He decided to leave it as is and make no further revisions.

The old shopkeeper, who had been watching the painting intently from the sidelines, now had his eyes practically glued to the still-wet ink painting.

Having run Songtao Pavilion for many years, he has met many literati and scholars, and his appreciation ability is extraordinary.

Although this painting was completed hastily, its magnificent momentum and poetic harmony make it a masterpiece.

If this painting could be preserved and hung next to the wall with the inscribed poem, it would complement the painting, becoming a prized possession of the shop and attracting countless literati and scholars.

The shopkeeper's heart raced, and he quickly put on his warmest smile, cautiously looking at the painter: "And this gentleman is?"

Qin Zhaoyue answered quickly, "Yan Zhibai, the son of Yan Huaichuan, a renowned scholar from the north..."

Then he started rambling on about science, basically recounting everything he had heard in the afternoon.

Finally, he looked at the old shopkeeper with a disdainful expression and said, "Hey, you don't even know this?"

Old shopkeeper: ...

He knew it; he knew it the moment he heard the full name!

But seeing how enthusiastically the Sixth Prince was speaking, how could he dare to interrupt?

The shopkeeper's lips twitched slightly, but he had to suppress it and wait for this ancestor to finally finish speaking before forcing a respectful smile and "sincere" praise:

"Your Highness is truly knowledgeable and learned; I admire you greatly."

Qin Zhaoyue raised her head proudly, "It's alright, I only know a little bit about everything."

Qin Jingzhan: ...

Xiao Yunshuo: ...

Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, some in amazement and others greed (as seen in the old shopkeeper), Yan Zhibai carefully blew away the ink.

My dear reader, there's more to this chapter! Please click the next page to continue reading—even more exciting content awaits!