Chapter 109: Are you all looking for me? [Requesting monthly votes]
Maids filed in, carrying painting supplies.
Even Zhai Huan couldn't help but slightly change his expression. His face darkened, and he put down his wine cup, intending to rise and speak—this wasn't some entertainment-oriented banquet; if one truly admired Mr. Qi's paintings, they could have visited him after the banquet with generous gifts, instead of treating him with the disrespect one would show to entertainers…
Is the prefect taking pleasure in Qi Shan's affairs?
However, these thoughts only lingered in his mind and were not spoken aloud, because halfway through, he received a meaningful look from Qi Shan, signaling him not to interfere. Zhai Huan hesitated for a moment, pursed his lips, downed the wine cup in one gulp, and made an excuse to go outside for some fresh air.
The prefect took all of this into account.
He chuckled inwardly: "Young people are still too impatient."
Seeing that Qi Shan held the brush in his right hand with a skillful and natural posture, and that his strokes were decisive and swift, he asked, "Sir, can you paint with your left hand?"
Qi Shan replied naturally, "Yes, I learned it for a while when I was young out of curiosity, but it's not as dexterous as my right hand."
The prefect recalled in a casual tone: "When I was young, I also knew a friend who could draw with his left hand. However, he didn't learn it out of curiosity; it was something he was born with. For him, his left hand was far more useful than his right. Coincidentally, he shared the same name, surname, and courtesy name as you."
Qi Shan said calmly, "Oh, what a coincidence?"
The prefect was somewhat embarrassed: "When I saw your painting earlier, I thought it was a friend of yours visiting my residence in Xiaocheng."
Upon hearing this, Qi Shan switched the pen to his left hand and wrote with the same fluid strokes: "The Prefect and his friend have a very close and profound friendship?"
The prefect sighed, "Yes, it's a pity we haven't seen each other for so many years."
Qi Shan smiled without saying a word, focusing her energy on drawing on the paper.
Painting with your left hand?
No one at the table seemed interested in this.
Because most people are right-handed and right is considered superior, left-handed people are seen as exceptions. Even if some people are born more left-handed, their elders will use methods to correct this. Deliberately learning to draw with the left hand is simply a cheap trick to attract attention.
Immediately, guests began chatting and laughing.
In my humble opinion, learning to paint requires three parts talent and seven parts hard work. Solid skills and a strong foundation are of utmost importance. Which hand you use to paint is secondary. If you are naturally left-handed and your elders haven't corrected you in time, then there's nothing to say. But if you waste your energy on something just for a gimmick, isn't that putting the cart before the horse?
In this world, painting is mostly used for leisure, and scholars and literati generally don't put much effort into it. Wouldn't it be better to spend that time studying the power of words or meditating and cultivating oneself? If one becomes too obsessed, one will be labeled as "indulging in frivolous pursuits and losing one's ambition."
Because he was unsure of the extent of the relationship between the prefect and his friend, he sidelined the "friend" and focused solely on the unknown Qi Shan.
After he finished speaking, some familiar guests laughed and agreed.
The prefect remained silent.
Seeing this, the guests knew that Qi Shan held no weight in the eyes of the prefect, a dispensable object of amusement, and not worthy of much respect. Thus, the conversation turned to discussions about the "left-handed man," including "strange tales" and "gossip."
Qi Shan remained unmoved, showing neither anger at being humiliated nor shame at being ridiculed. It was as if the chatter around him was all just noise and nonsense, having nothing to do with him whatsoever, and his heart remained completely undisturbed.
While sipping his tea, the prefect secretly observed Qi Shan.
My mind is wavering.
It wasn't that he doubted Qi Shan was the same "Qi Shan" he knew. Before meeting him, he had suspected it and was so worried that he couldn't eat or sleep. He even wanted to send someone to assassinate him, but he was too afraid to act rashly. Only after meeting him in person did his heart finally settle down.
The two are too different to be the same person.
But he suspected that the man before him might be sent by a political enemy to antagonize him, and that "Qishan" wasn't his real name. This explained his suspicions. Therefore, the prefect's decision to allow and even instigate others to mock him was also a way of provoking and testing him.
Not long after, Qi Shan handed in the painting.
The prefect didn't examine it closely, clapping his hands to praise Qi Shan's excellent painting skills. The other guests also flattered him, as if they weren't the ones who had been making sarcastic remarks and veiled insults not long ago. Qi Shan was too lazy to argue, so he made up an excuse and left with the plate of payment.
Not long after they left, they ran into Zhai Huan, who was heading back to the main hall.
Qi Shan asked, "Is Young Master Zhai a guest here?"
Zhai Huan: "Visiting renowned scholars."
A famous scholar?
Who is this enemy of his?
Qi Shan tilted her head, thought for a while, and then remembered.
His enemy was quick to climb the social ladder and knew how to curry favor, but had a bad reputation. To make up for this, he often invited famous people from all over Sibao County to hang out, taking the concept of "catering to their interests" to the extreme.
He would never miss a famous person passing through his territory, making the guest fully feel the host's hospitality by giving them money, people, and warmth, showing his righteousness, enthusiasm, and generosity.
Over time, he became a well-known figure in the area and had a significant presence in the circle of celebrities.
Qi Shan asked with a smile, "What kind of person is he?"
Zhai Huan: "..."
Although he didn't speak, his indescribable expression seemed to say everything, which made Qi Shan feel much happier.
He patted Zhai Huan on the shoulder and said mysteriously, "It's so much fun."
Zhai Huan: "Play?"
"I've heard that the concubines kept in this prefect's harem are all exceptionally beautiful and unparalleled in their charm. Perhaps you are in for a treat, young friend..."
Zhai Huan: "..."
His expression grew increasingly stiff, which pleased Qi Shan greatly. She made a "brushing" motion on his shoulder, as if Zhai Huan had gotten some kind of filth on him in the house, and laughed heartily before leaving.
Zhai Huan said to Qi Shan's retreating figure, "Please be careful, sir."
Since this prefect is all show and no substance, he probably won't let Qi Shan take those gold ingots away so easily, so we can't let our guard down. Qi Shan naturally understood this as well.
However, he was not flustered at all. He used the money to make large purchases under the noses of the people sent by the prefectural government, but he did not buy rice and grain. Most of the purchases were wood, charcoal, cloth and seeds, and a few farm tools, writing brushes, ink and paper. It was unclear what he was planning to do.
It filled more than forty trucks.
Qi Shan was either on her shopping spree or drinking and having fun everywhere. Sometimes she could even chat with a drunkard in a tavern for an hour.
Not a single useful piece of content.
It was a string of nonsense that made everyone yawn.
Qi Shan, however, enjoyed it immensely. Occasionally, he would take his cat, "Su Shang," to buy the finest fabrics or dried fish.
After three or four days, Qi Shan finally stepped out of Xiaocheng with his luggage. No sooner had he left than a group of people followed him.
He has shifty eyes and ill intentions.
They had only heard by chance that this poor scholar possessed great wealth, and based on the principle that they would not have another chance to do something big, they decided to pull off a major heist.
But when they arrived in the suburbs, the person in sight suddenly disappeared.
"People? Where are they?"
"How did they suddenly disappear?"
Just as they were panicking, a laugh came from behind them.
"Are you all looking for me?"
Turning around, he saw a thin, frail scholar in a blue robe, holding a long sword, with a smile on his face. From a distance, he looked like a straight, green bamboo.
The petty thieves: "..."
In less than a quarter of an hour.
Qi Shan casually tossed aside the handkerchief he had used to wipe the blood off the sword.
Sheathed his sword and leisurely headed into the deep mountains.
Faintly, you could hear him whispering to someone.
"Su Shang, accompany Father back to ring the bell."
"You're asking what bell is being rung?"
"It's time to toll the death knell for that villain!"
(End of this chapter)
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