Time Is Slow - Chapter 10
Qiao Zhao spread her hands and looked around.
Yang Houcheng, being an impatient person, couldn’t help but ask, “What are you looking for? Could it be that you lost the painting?”
That excuse wouldn’t sound very convincing.
The young girl didn’t even lift her eyelids and said calmly, “The painting isn’t lost. I’m looking for ‘grace.’”
Grace?
The three of them were stunned.
“What kind of thing is ‘grace’?” Thinking that it might be a homophone or a play on words, Yang Houcheng asked again.
The young girl’s clear, autumn-water-like eyes swept over Chi Can as she patiently explained, “‘Grace’ as in elegance and magnanimity.”
Now, the three men understood. Zhu Yan and Yang Houcheng exchanged a glance, then both looked at Chi Can and couldn’t help but burst into laughter.
Chi Can’s jade-like, cool face quickly turned dark.
Ever since meeting this girl, the instances of his two friends teaming up to mock him had increased dramatically.
He strode over to Qiao Zhao, pinched her pointed chin, and said, “Bold of you. Do you know who I am?”
The young girl blinked, testing the waters as she replied, “My savior?”
Chi Can’s fury, which had swelled up like an overinflated balloon, was instantly punctured. He stared at the petite girl who barely reached his armpits, his lips twitching, and silently let go of her.
Could this girl have been sent specifically to humble him?
The muffled laughter of his two friends reached his ears. Chi Can took a deep breath, flung his sleeves, and left.
As his figure disappeared through the cabin door, Yang Houcheng nearly doubled over with laughter. He said to Qiao Zhao, “Girl, from now on, big brother’s got your back.”
Someone who can frequently make Young Master Chi Can suffer setbacks is truly rare.
Qiao Zhao curtsied and said, “Thank you for your kindness, Brother Yang.”
Zhu Yan’s lips moved, as if he wanted to say something. In the end, he looked at Yang Houcheng and kept quiet.
No sooner had the deck regained a moment of peace than Chi Can stormed out of the cabin like a whirlwind, startling his two friends who knew his temperament well.
“Is there a thief? Or did we encounter Japanese pirates?” Yang Houcheng’s right hand pressed against the hilt of his blade, his face full of tension.
“What pirates? Come with me, quickly!” Chi Can called out, turning back inside.
As they followed, Yang Houcheng mumbled, “We’re far from Fucheng. I told you it couldn’t be pirates.”
The current Daliang dynasty is not at peace. In the north, the Tatar marauders frequently plunder and invade, while in the southern coastal areas, Japanese pirates are a major threat. In recent years, the havoc caused by the pirates has escalated, becoming a significant headache for the court.
Qiao Zhao watched as the three figures disappeared through the door and quietly followed them.
“What… what is this?” Zhu Yan, who was usually so composed, was visibly shocked as he looked at the “Duck Playing in the Water” painting on the study table.
Yang Houcheng exclaimed, “Are we seeing ghosts? I clearly remember there was just a blot of ink here!”
As he spoke, he reached out to touch it.
“Don’t touch!” Zhu Yan shouted. Ignoring how harsh his tone sounded, he wrapped a handkerchief around his finger and carefully pressed it against the reflection of the small bridge in the painting.
He withdrew his hand, and seeing the faint ink marks on the white handkerchief, his eyes suddenly narrowed as he sharply looked at Qiao Zhao.
Chi Can vaguely guessed something from his friend’s actions, but he found it hard to believe. His eyes were fixed on Qiao Zhao, and he opened his mouth, “You——”
The answer was so shocking that he couldn’t even ask.
Qiao Zhao walked over slowly, picked up the long box on the desk, and handed it to Zhu Yan.
Zhu Yan took it, dazed. Then, as if recalling something, he swiftly opened the box and took out a scroll.
When the painting was unfurled, it was unmistakably another “Duck Playing in the Water” painting!
The three of them stared intently at the ink blot on the “Duck Playing in the Water” painting, then simultaneously lowered their heads to look at the painting spread out on the desk.
Aside from that ink blot, the two paintings were identical down to the finest detail!
“They’re practically the same. How… how is this even possible?” Zhu Yan murmured.
He had quite a bit of expertise in this field, and he could tell that the two paintings before him weren’t just superficially similar—the very spirit and essence of the brushwork were exactly alike.
“This isn’t just a copy. It’s definitely not a simple imitation!” Zhu Yan shook his head repeatedly, his expression strange as he looked at Qiao Zhao. “Miss Li, do you also have a copy of Master Qiao’s ‘Duck Playing in the Water’ painting?”
The “Duck Playing in the Water” was Master Qiao’s early masterpiece, and more than one version had circulated over the years.
Qiao Zhao pointed to the handkerchief in Zhu Yan’s nearly clenched fist.
Zhu Yan looked down.
The faint ink stain on the white handkerchief was a stark reminder of how absurd his earlier question had been.
His spirit seemed to deflate all at once as he asked, “How did you do this?”
For a young girl to create a painting so true to Master Qiao’s work that it could pass as the real thing—it made his usual pride in his own painting skills seem almost laughable.
“By copying, of course. I’ve said before, I admire Master Qiao greatly and have always practiced by copying his paintings,” Qiao Zhao said honestly.
She wasn’t lying.
When she first began learning to paint, her grandfather had casually sketched a duck and made her copy it for three whole years. After that, he had her spend another six months painting ducks from life at the pond behind the Apricot Grove. Eventually, she could paint ducks with her eyes closed, and no matter the pose, others could hardly distinguish her ducks from her grandfather’s.
As her grandfather put it, her ducks had already captured the same “spirit of the painting” as his. When the spirit is the same, even if the form differs, others will still believe the works to be from the same hand.
Her grandfather told her that only when she could infuse her ducks with her own understanding of that spirit would her painting skills be truly perfected.
Unfortunately, she lacked true talent in painting. She feared she might never achieve that level in her lifetime.
“Copying?” Zhu Yan repeated the word, looking utterly dejected.
Of course, he didn’t believe it was just simple copying. This must be talent—undeniable talent.
“It’s too similar—almost unbelievably so! Girl… no, Miss Li, did you really paint this?” Yang Houcheng stared at Qiao Zhao without blinking.
Qiao Zhao smiled at him and then turned to Chi Can. “Brother Chi, will this be enough to help you report back?”
Chi Can’s expression was rather complicated. He remained silent for a long time before nodding and then quickly turned to leave.
Yang Houcheng chuckled awkwardly and explained, “Don’t mind him. That guy probably just feels embarrassed.”
Thinking of the stunning painting, he suddenly felt it inappropriate to keep calling her “little girl” and turned to Zhu Yan. “It’s so stuffy inside. Let’s go out.”
Zhu Yan gave Qiao Zhao a long, deep look, then nodded absentmindedly. “Mm.”
Back on the deck, Zhu Yan stood by the railing, saying nothing.
Yang Houcheng patted his shoulder. “What’s wrong? Feeling defeated?”
Zhu Yan gave a bitter smile.
Leaning against the railing, Chi Can suddenly said in a low voice, “Is she really the daughter of a minor editor?”
Not being in the same social circle, he didn’t know if there was such a Mr. Li in the Hanlin Academy, but he felt that such a family background couldn’t possibly raise a daughter as intelligent and talented as her.
“What’s there to doubt? Would she lie about something like that?” Yang Houcheng said indifferently.
Chi Can glanced at Zhu Yan before adding, “I just find it hard to believe. Zi Zhe has studied under renowned teachers since childhood, yet even he couldn’t produce a painting like that.”
Zhu Yan’s mouth twitched.
He was already feeling miserable, and now he was being compared to her? Where was the compassion?
Yang Houcheng also looked at Zhu Yan, then said nonchalantly, “There’s nothing strange about it. Everyone’s talents are different. Take Master Qiao, who is famous throughout the land—no one ever heard that his father was particularly gifted, right?”
Talent… talent…
Young Master Zhu, having received a second blow from his friend, silently swallowed a mouthful of blood.