Chapter Nine: Even Spilled Wine Becomes Art

A single remark from him shattered the warm camaraderie between Yu Hualiang and Mo Cai, leaving nothing behind. Lian Sheng stood on the stone steps, his usual scowl on display as he looked at Yu Hualiang.

Puzzled by his presence, Yu Hualiang asked politely, "Why are you here?"

"Is this a place only you can come to, Senior Brother?" Lian Sheng's tone was sharp, and Yu Hualiang had no wish to argue. As Lian Sheng approached, he pulled Yu Hualiang up, saying, "You really make people worry, Senior Brother. You know you're not well, yet you remain so careless."

Yu Hualiang understood well—this younger brother of his had a sharp tongue but a soft heart.

He smiled at him. "Thank you, Junior Brother."

Lian Sheng's expression soured further, as though he'd bitten into a bitter gourd, his brows knitted tightly. He stepped back a meter away from Yu Hualiang and said, "Senior Brother, you should see Doctor Wang."

Why did it seem that being kind to him was always met with resistance?

Having spent much time together, Yu Hualiang knew his character well. Thick-skinned, he continued, "You've always looked after me, Junior Brother. I know your heart is in the right place."

Lian Sheng was momentarily taken aback. After a pause, he replied with a hint of disdain in his eyes, "Since you know, Senior Brother, take better care of yourself. Spare me the worry—I don't have that much time."

Yu Hualiang simply smiled at his proud demeanor. "Yes, yes, as you say, Junior Brother."

He followed Lian Sheng further up the path. When they reached the top, they found Lian Sheng's servant, Mo Cheng, standing in a pavilion. On the stone table lay a landscape painting of plum blossoms—clearly Lian Sheng's recent work.

So, Lian Sheng had come especially to meet him?

"Wow, is this your work?" Yu Hualiang asked, gazing at the painting.

Lian Sheng's look seemed to say, "Obviously."

He didn't answer, and Yu Hualiang realized he'd asked a redundant question.

He couldn't help but praise the piece. No wonder Lian Sheng held office in the palace.

The distant mountains were brushed with pale ink, the nearer ones with darker shades, giving the peaks depth, as if shrouded in clouds—like a fairyland. The close plum blossoms were vivid and delicately depicted, while the distant ones, in clusters, varied in intensity, as if veiled in post-rain mist, more ethereal than common styles. Yet, the painting was unfinished, missing the snowy ground and scattered red petals at the bottom.

"What do you think, Senior Brother?" Lian Sheng asked.

"It's beautiful, truly evocative," Yu Hualiang replied honestly.

Mo Cheng, Lian Sheng's servant, beamed with pride. "Of course, my lord is the imperial painter, appointed by the Emperor himself."

Yu Hualiang was a little stunned, while Lian Sheng's gaze turned cold, signaling Mo Cheng to be silent.

Turning to Yu Hualiang, Lian Sheng said, "Senior Brother, would you add a few strokes for me?"

"Me?" Surprised by the honor, Yu Hualiang wondered if Lian Sheng wasn't afraid he'd ruin it. But with Yu Hualiang's skill, that was impossible.

Lian Sheng nodded and pressed the brush into Yu Hualiang's hand. "Give it a try, Senior Brother."

Unable to refuse Lian Sheng's earnest invitation, Yu Hualiang took the brush. Surveying the incomplete section, he dipped it in vermilion.

He added a few strokes to the plum tree. Lian Sheng frowned but said nothing, for Yu Hualiang's additions did seem to disturb the painting's atmosphere.

Just then, Ji Yuzhe arrived, curious about Yu Hualiang's brushwork. But Lian Sheng stopped him.

Seeing Lian Sheng, Li Yuzhe immediately bowed and stood quietly by his side, not daring to interrupt.

The painting was exquisite, yet Yu Hualiang had dotted the lower part with a swath of bright red, making it look as though a splendid golden garment had been soiled with mud.

When Yu Hualiang finished, the work seemed utterly ruined. Ji Yuzhe was disappointed, and even Lian Sheng looked troubled.

Yu Hualiang looked around. "Is there any wine? Or water will do!"

Mo Cheng, holding a wine jug, glanced at Lian Sheng, who waved for him to hand it over. Yu Hualiang took it and raised it in a bold gulp.

This startled Lian Sheng, for though Yu Hualiang often frequented the pleasure quarters, his drinking capacity was poor—such a manner could only spell trouble.

But unexpectedly, Yu Hualiang didn't swallow, but spat the entire mouthful onto the painting!

Ji Yuzhe was dumbfounded, and Lian Sheng was left speechless with fury.

Mo Cheng, most aggrieved, cried out, "You! It's bad enough you're a degenerate, but to destroy my lord's hard work—this was for the Imperial Consort!"

"Mo Cheng, silence!" Lian Sheng snapped.

Yet Yu Hualiang showed no remorse. Instead, he lounged on the stone table, took another swig, and spat once more!

Even Ji Yuzhe couldn't stand it. He once thought Yu Hualiang upright, but destroying another's work was too much.

He was about to speak for Lian Sheng when he noticed something strange—the vermilion ink, mingled with the wine, began to spread and fade on the painting.

As the wine dried, the stains resembled snow covering the ground. Now, the piece was a masterpiece.

Even Lian Sheng was astonished; he could never have achieved such profound atmosphere through his own brush.

"Wow, Brother Yu, that's incredible!" Li Yuzhe couldn't help but exclaim.

Yu Hualiang smiled at Lian Sheng. "What do you think, Junior Brother?"

He expected Lian Sheng to retort with his usual pride, but to his surprise, Lian Sheng actually smiled.

"It's wonderful, Senior Brother."

Caught off guard by Lian Sheng's embrace, Yu Hualiang froze like a startled rabbit. After a moment, he patted Lian Sheng's back.

"What's wrong, Junior Brother?" Yu Hualiang soothed him, his voice gentle, whispering near Lian Sheng's ear, which made Lian Sheng squirm with an odd feeling. Moved a moment ago, Lian Sheng now returned to his usual self.

He pushed Yu Hualiang away. "It seems you're well again, Senior Brother, and my painting is done. I won't disturb your enjoyment of the plum blossoms further!"

Turning away in annoyance, Yu Hualiang was left dazed by the push, but he was in good spirits, knowing Lian Sheng was merely being polite.

He hurried to say, "Let me see you out."

Mo Cai helped Mo Cheng tidy up, watching Yu Hualiang and Lian Sheng make up so easily. He couldn't help but worry for Lian Sheng—what if his young master truly fell for him?

Mo Cheng was even more concerned. He'd long sensed his master had unusual feelings for Yu Hualiang. If Yu Hualiang led Lian Sheng astray, what would become of his future?

He snapped at Mo Cai, "Can't you persuade your young master to stay away from mine?"

Mo Cai took offense. Why did his young master always get blamed? "Why don't you persuade your master to keep his distance from mine!"

"Degenerate..." Mo Cheng muttered under his breath.

"What did you say? Say it again!"

"Junior Brother, we should dine together sometime," Yu Hualiang said, trying to be friendly.

Lian Sheng looked at him with disdain. "I serve in the palace, unlike you, Senior Brother, with all your free time."

Yu Hualiang knew he always said that. But once he joined the Prince Seventh's household, leisure would be a thing of the past.

He sighed, "Ah, I should enjoy these idle days while I can. Soon, I'll have to snatch moments of rest amid busyness."

Lian Sheng pondered this. "Hmph—who could possibly control..." He stopped mid-sentence, suddenly recalling the matter with the Prince Seventh. Yu Hualiang had unexpectedly taken first place in the Yu Family Painting Society; it must be that the prince wished to recruit him.

"When will you go? I'll see you off."

Lian Sheng's abrupt change of subject caught Yu Hualiang off guard.

"Ah?"

"Tsk," Lian Sheng clicked his tongue, impatient with Yu Hualiang's slow response. He stopped and faced him seriously. "When are you going to the Prince Seventh's residence?"

"Oh, that," Yu Hualiang thought a moment. "The day after tomorrow."

Lian Sheng nodded, and only then did they notice the noise behind them—Mo Cai and Mo Cheng hadn't caught up.

"Mo Cai!" Yu Hualiang called out, but there was no answer.

They realized only after walking some distance that no one had followed. Seeing Yu Hualiang's poor health, Lian Sheng said, "Wait here. I'll go check."

Yu Hualiang wanted to follow, but seeing the steep steps, he decided against it.

Left alone and bored, he suddenly heard familiar voices below.

"Third Senior Brother, don't be upset. Who is Yu Hualiang, really? He only relies on little tricks—he can't compare to your true skill..."

"Ahem..." Chang Zihao coughed twice, signaling Mu Qi to stop.

Yu Hualiang glared angrily at Mu Qi—he detested being slandered behind his back.

It was an awkward encounter on the narrow steps—Yu Hualiang stood in the middle, blocking the way, while Chang Zihao waited for him to move. Neither yielded, and tension filled the air.

Unable to bear the silence, Mu Qi snapped, "Senior Brother, what's this about? Even a dog knows not to block the way!"

"You call me Senior Brother? Then what are you—a lackey or a pile of dung?" Yu Hualiang retorted mercilessly.

Mu Qi's face turned red with anger, his eyes wide as he stepped forward, ready to strike.

"Senior Brother!" Chang Zihao intervened. "If you have time to spare, why not settle this in the pavilion ahead?"

Yu Hualiang had tolerated him once or twice, but not a third time. With a good temper, he'd ignored him for being Yu Ming's disciple, but today, emboldened by drink, he replied solemnly, "Fine."

Chang Zihao's eyes narrowed, his tone falsely courteous. "After you."

"Wait!" Yu Hualiang said.

Mu Qi grumbled, "What now?"

Yu Hualiang sneered at Chang Zihao. "If it's a contest, there should be stakes!"

"Oh? However you'd arrange it, I'm game," Chang Zihao replied.

"Crawling between the legs... of course, that's out of the question!" Yu Hualiang thought—people in this era cared too much about face; not everyone could endure such humiliation.

Mu Qi mocked him for being afraid, while Chang Zihao, confident, just waited for Yu Hualiang to embarrass himself.

"How about this?" Yu Hualiang continued. "Whoever loses will serve as the other's manservant. If I say east, you can't go west!"

"For how long?" Chang Zihao asked.

"A lifetime... three years! Just three years!" Yu Hualiang reconsidered—a lifetime was too long; one must let others marry and have children.

"Deal," Chang Zihao accepted readily. "Three years it is. You can't go back on your word, Senior Brother!"

Yu Hualiang replied coldly, "I'm only worried you won't keep yours if you lose!"

Mu Qi sneered, "Senior Brother, don't regret this. You dare challenge Third Senior Brother with just your petty tricks? Better get used to emptying chamber pots!"

"Hmph, that's not certain."