Chapter 39: Hu Huanhuan

With her floral umbrella leaning against her shoulder, Hong Xue stood before Duan Rong, who studied her eyebrows carefully by the lamplight.

Seeing the focused gaze Duan Rong fixed upon her, two blushes of red cloud flew onto her face unconsciously.

She was shy.

Duan Rong, however, was in high spirits as he looked at Hong Xue.

This was the kind of client he needed to serve; if they were all like Jiang Qingyu and Lan Ying, wouldn't the technique he had painstakingly developed, killing off several batches of brain cells, be a case of a hero having no place to display his prowess?

Duan Rong held his brush, painting with concentration; from time to time, he stared at Hong Xue for a moment, occasionally pausing with his brush suspended, a look of deep thought on his face.

It was not just Duan Rong watching Hong Xue; Hong Xue was also infatuated as she watched Duan Rong.

Although Duan Rong was not particularly handsome, his look of focused cognition, with a pair of eyes flashing with calm, cold light, caused Hong Xue to lose her composure for a moment.

Duan Rong was painting with even more care this time than he had the previous two times.

This was his professional home turf; the previous two portraits had merely been clever shortcuts.

Duan Rong carefully scrutinized Hong Xue's eyebrows, considering and gauging the degree of optimization.

The effect had to be stunning, yet it could not lose its authenticity!

It took a full quarter of an hour for Duan Rong to finish; he took a look, nodded with satisfaction, and said, "Miss Hong Xue, it is finished."

"Is it done?"

Duan Rong took down the painting, and Hong Xue received it with eager delight; upon looking at it, her eyes widened like lychees, and she laughed, "This is exactly how I look in my dreams! The gentleman paints truly well!"

"I am glad you are pleased, Miss!"

"I am very pleased."

"Thank you, sir!" Holding the painting, Hong Xue curtsied and prepared to leave; she was impatient to go and share it with others.

"Hey, Miss Hong Xue," Duan Rong called out to stop her.

Hong Xue turned her head and looked at Duan Rong.

"Ten taels per painting!" Duan Rong said with a faint smile, pointing to the wooden board beside him.

Hong Xue realized suddenly; she had forgotten to pay.

Her pretty face turned bright red instantly, and she took out a banknote, placed it on the crossbeam of Duan Rong's easel, and said, "Sir, please do not blame me; I was too rash."

"It is fine. Since you like this painting so much, I am happy, so how could I blame you?" Duan Rong replied with a smile.

Hong Xue looked at Duan Rong with shining eyes; for some reason, this person always knew exactly what to say to touch her heart!

Hong Xue curtsied once more, turned around, and hurried away.

Watching Hong Xue's hurried retreating figure, Duan Rong gave a dumbfounded laugh and said, "This girl, so rash..."

As soon as Hong Xue reached the entrance, she was surrounded by several geishas who were greeting guests; the group looked at the painting and began to clamor, one after another.

"Is this you, Hong Xue?"

"How could this not be me!"

"This is definitely Hong Xue. Look at these brows and eyes, these lips."

"This is called Portraiture," Hong Xue said firmly.

"Portraiture?"

"Yes. With my brush, I restore your... original appearance." Hong Xue repeated somewhat stiffly the advertising slogan she had heard from Jiang Qingyu.

Soon, all six geishas greeting guests at the entrance of Huaying Pavilion were gathered in front of Duan Rong's stall.

Seeing that business was booming, Duan Rong's joy reached his eyebrows; he maintained order, saying, "Everyone, line up, one by one!"

Soon, a line formed under the Old Locust Tree diagonally across from Huaying Pavilion; these geishas, painted and powdered and dressed in colorful finery, instantly turned the previously desolate street into a garden in spring, chattering and bustling with fragrance.

Hu Huanhuan was already over forty years old, but she was well-maintained; there was no excess fat on her body or face, though due to overwork, there were already crow's feet at the corners of her eyes.

Her chin did not have a rounded curve but rather slightly firm lines; these features, along with her somewhat slender hands, seemed to hint at her strong personality.

Hu Huanhuan had just come out of her room, preparing to go to the second floor; after all, the boudoirs of the Four Great Flower Shadows were all on the second floor, and guests of any standing would not linger on the first floor for too long.

Just as she reached the top of the stairs, she suddenly stopped, her brows knitting together into a knot.

She had originally arranged for six geishas to greet guests, but now the entrance of Huaying Pavilion was empty, with only two servants who led horses for guests waiting outside.

Hu Huanhuan strode over, glared at the servants outside, and asked, "Where are the girls?"

The servants jutted their chins toward the other side of the street. "Over there!"

Hu Huanhuan looked across the street and was instantly filled with rage. "What are they doing over there?"

"It seems to be a painter, painting portraits for the girls."

"Very well, they've gone too far! Doing this so brazenly, making a mess and causing trouble for me!" Hu Huanhuan's almond eyes flashed like lightning, and the gold hairpin in her hair bun rattled loudly as she shook her head violently; she glared at the servants and said, "Go to the Back Courtyard and call some people, and have them all grab their weapons!"

"I want to see who is so blind that they dare to cause trouble at my doorstep."

Duan Rong was currently painting a geisha named Ju Xiang; Ju Xiang was plump, but her eyebrows were set too far from her eyes, which created a sense of disharmony.

Strictly speaking, the brows and eyes could not be moved, or the likeness would be lost.

But if this problem were not solved, it would be difficult to make Ju Xiang look beautiful; Duan Rong finally decided to narrow the distance between the eyebrows and the eyes, and then leave the rest of the face below the eyes untouched.

In fact, once this flaw was corrected, Ju Xiang could immediately become beautiful.

Duan Rong made his plan and was just about to start painting when he suddenly heard a commotion in the crowd.

Hu Huanhuan twisted the ear of a geisha named Chun Ming in the middle of the line and scolded, "You little hussy, it is the hour for greeting guests, why are you running around? Are you not afraid that I will break your legs?"

"What are you lot still standing there for? Smash his stall for me!" Hu Huanhuan shouted, her frame trembling with rage, to the few servants who were holding cudgels.

The two servants in the front heard the order, grabbed their cudgels, and smashed them toward Duan Rong's easel.

Duan Rong leaped backward and landed in front of the Old Locust Tree; he reached out and grabbed the Ox-Tail Saber in his hand.

Duan Rong took a half-step diagonally, flipped his wrist, and with the back of the Ox-Tail Saber facing up, he gave a light flick, sending the cudgels in the servants' hands flying away.

The two servants were stunned; only then did they realize that the webs of their right hands were aching, and they were so frightened that they both took a step back.

Hu Huanhuan was in the middle of a fierce scolding when a cudgel suddenly flew from the front and clattered to the ground at her feet.

She narrowed her eyes and looked, seeing Duan Rong holding an Ox-Tail Saber, while the two brothel servants opposite him were shrinking back in fear...

Hu Huanhuan's anger instantly dissipated by half; this was a part of her personality—the more she encountered trouble, the calmer she became.

"To think he's actually a Martial Artist!"

Even if she truly encountered a Martial Artist, Hu Huanhuan was not afraid.

Her Huaying Pavilion brought in a fortune every day, so naturally, she also kept Martial Artists in her employ.

It was just that she treated those two like masters, and she dared not easily trouble them. She had originally thought he was just a painter, nothing more than a poor, sour scholar; who would have thought he was actually a Martial Artist!

Duan Rong stood holding his saber, and with a glance, he swept his gaze over Hu Huanhuan and the crowd of brothel servants; his eyes rolled, and he immediately understood where the crux of the matter lay.

Duan Rong sheathed his saber, walked up to Hu Huanhuan, and immediately bowed, saying, "Beautiful sister, it was my rudeness."

"It is the very hour for welcoming guests, yet I was here selling paintings, causing the young ladies to all come and paint, delaying your important business."

"Sister is merciful, and my actions were unintentional. Please spare me this one time."

As Duan Rong spoke, he bowed repeatedly.

The scene had originally been tense with swords drawn, but Duan Rong's abrupt and comical behavior immediately shifted the atmosphere.

Hu Huanhuan was amused into giggling, saying, "Don't call me that randomly, who is your sister?"

"Painter Duan, we all call her Mother," Xiang Ju, who was at the very front of the line, suddenly said.

As soon as Xiang Ju's words were out, the scene erupted into uproarious laughter.

"You have the most to say, and you're at the front of the line, you're the most eager, aren't you! When we go back later, watch out, or I'll skin you alive!" Hu Huanhuan said, hands on her hips, scolding Xiang Ju.

Upon hearing this, Xiang Ju was slightly stunned, a look of fear appearing on her plump face.

(End of this chapter)