The Paintings of Zhang SAN

The night grew darker.

Zhang San walked out, silently cursing that idiot Wang Xiaoer - how could it take so long to investigate the people around here?

But as soon as he stepped outside, Zhang San was taken aback.

Lu Gaosheng, the venerable county magistrate, was walking towards him.

Why would someone of his status come to the poor side of town, and looking quite unhappy at that?

But with Zhang San's composure, his initial surprise vanished instantly. He feigned indifference as he brushed past Lu Gaosheng.

Lu Gaosheng also walked by Zhang San without any change in expression.

...

...

At the street corner, an ornate carriage was waiting.

Li Xing greeted the returning Lu Gaosheng with a respectful bow. Seeing the magistrate's expression, Li Xing dared not say more.

"That scholar..." Lu Gaosheng murmured as he approached the carriage.

"What is it, sir?" Li Xing asked curiously.

Lu Gaosheng said, "On my way back, I saw that scholar I met at the bookstore yesterday. He came out of the tavern next to Bai Xiaoyu's home. At first glance I guessed he was no ordinary man, and now he shows up next to Bai Xiaoyu's home the very next day. Could he be...one of the former Zhennan Army? But judging by his age, it doesn't seem likely."

Li Xing asked, "Then sir, shall I send someone to..."

Lu Gaosheng shook his head. "No, let's not stir up trouble for now. In the next few days I need to meet with the reformists at court, especially the envoy sent by the Chief Minister. Afterwards, I'll look into that scholar's background myself."

"As you wish, sir," Li Xing said respectfully.

But as they spoke, Lu Gaosheng suddenly felt dizzy and short of breath...

"Sir?" Li Xing asked with concern.

Lu Gaosheng shook his head vigorously. "It's nothing. I always feel this strange sensation after seeing her. Nevermind, let's go back."

...

...

As Zhang San reached the tofu shop, he saw Wang Xiaoer emerge happily.

Strange.

Why was the brat grinning so wide?

Setting aside thoughts about Lu Gaosheng for now, Zhang San eyed Wang Xiaoer curiously. "What's got you so happy? Find some money?"

Wang Xiaoer was startled to see his master. He thought to himself that he couldn't let Zhang San find out about Bai Xiaoyu yet. "Nothing much, I'll tell you when we get back," he said evasively.

Wang Xiaoer wanted to get Zhang San away first, then figure out how to explain things later.

"Thank you for the candied haws, Wang Xiaoer," Bai Xiaoyu said, running out.

This demonstrated an important truth.

Reality is never the same as your imagination.

Zhang San looked at the girl, as delicate as carved white jade. Unlike Wang Xiaoer's admiration and fondness, he felt absolutely nothing.

Whether beautiful or ugly, Zhang San had been insensitive towards women and girls since birth.

Seeing Wang Xiaoer with Bai Xiaoyu, Zhang San's expression grew suspicious.

Wang Xiaoer panicked and dragged Zhang San away hastily, leaving a confused Bai Xiaoyu behind.

...

...

Back home, Wang Xiaoer told Zhang San about the candied haws and Bai Xiaoyu...

But Zhang San asked no questions and had no discussion. He decided to wait and see, merely keeping this incident in mind.

Besides, they had just bought this shop. Though cheap, there were still many troubles ahead, so he had no time to mind a brat like Wang Xiaoer.

Over the next few days, Zhang San, skilled in woodworking, masonry and more, worked from dawn to dusk in the new shop. This demonstrated the usefulness of learning so many skills - it saved a lot of money. Besides, a bookshop didn't require elaborate decor.

Since the shop used to be a winery, it had a basement wine cellar. After sealing up the original entrance, Zhang San made a secret passage in the room. Now he even had a secret chamber.

All that was left was to hang up some paintings, and the shop would be ready for business.

But when Zhang San went to take out the paintings he brought along, he found most were damaged, either water-stained or with torn scrolls.

At least half would have to be thrown away.

Zhang San guessed this was because, during the journey here, he had made hidden compartments and padded his luggage box with oil paper and cotton to protect the poisons, concealed weapons, martial arts manuals and other items. He had not taken as much care to protect the worthless paintings.

Nothing to be done about it. He would just have to paint more.

On the sixth day after buying the shop, Zhang San got up early and bought plenty of cheap white paper from the market. He also made inquiries around the neighborhood, then returned to paint in the shop.

Scenes of mountains, rivers, cities, villages and fields flowed from Zhang San's brush.

There was no denying that, setting aside his timid, greedy and cowardly personality flaws, Zhang San was an all-round genius.

No matter if it was medicine, martial arts, acting...he could grasp anything quickly and make amazing progress.

After painting all day, Zhang San had produced over twenty works, both swiftly and skillfully.

Judging solely by artistic merit, Zhang San's paintings were quite good. Though overall lacking in detail and refinement compared to masters who had devoted their lives to the art, Zhang San's style and techniques already hinted at a fledgling unique school of his own.

However, despite having sold paintings for many years in Xiaoyun County, Zhang San had not sold many pieces. The problem with his work was not the technical skill, but the spirit.

Of course, even if he could capture the so-called 'spirit' in a backwater like Xiaoyun, it was unlikely anyone would appreciate it.

Yet even a knowledgeable person looking at Zhang San's current paintings would at best compliment the technique, while still citing that fundamental flaw - lack of spirit.

The landscapes Zhang San depicted - the mountains, rivers, cities and countryside - were all places he had seen with his own eyes during his travels with his master and later alone. This partly explained why his paintings looked good.

But Zhang San's lack of spirit stemmed from his apathy towards everything he had witnessed.

Or rather, his indifference. Like his insensitivity towards women, he was equally indifferent to the sights he had seen. And this indifference had grown since the famine over a decade ago.

No matter how tall the mountains, how turbulent the rivers, how pitiful the people, how unfair the events...Zhang San would not react like a typical scholar, moved by the grandeur of nature or the injustice of society.

Mountains and rivers were just so.

The world had always been thus.

It was all so normal, so how could he be moved?

Perhaps Zhang San himself didn't realize this, or vaguely sensed it. In the past decade, only Wang Xiaoer and abandoning revenge had given him any different feelings.

In short, everything seemed ordinary to him, so he was indifferent, insensitive.

Zhang San had never considered improving his painting skills either. After all, it was just something to conceal his identity, why take it so seriously?

That evening, after painting all day, Zhang San stretched lazily.

Burying himself in painting was as tiring as intense martial arts practice, how strange.

With such mutterings, Zhang San decided to do one final painting. After all, the shop was large, it would look unnatural for the paintings to be too sparse. It needed to appear like a scholar's studio, with works densely hung.

Just as Zhang San readied his brush to paint again, noisy sounds came from the backyard.

Zhang San cursed silently - what was that brat up to now?

Still cursing under his breath, he went to the backyard and saw Wang Xiaoer struggling to carry a pitch-black sword hilt and snow-white scabbard.

The sword, Abandoning Revenge.