Chapter 82

What is Grandma saying? Pei Muyin looked puzzled at Madam Song, whispering: "Grandma, this painting is not…"

She hadn't finished speaking when she was interrupted.

"In front of adults, a child rashly interjecting is impolite."

Madam Song tilted her head and gave a covert warning glance; the frame was not small, and Pei Muyin obediently held the painting with both hands to her chest, the edge of the frame covering most of her face, only revealing a pair of eyes faintly visible in the shadow.

Perhaps the fleeting thoughts just now had stirred memories of past people, tugging at his heartstrings; upon hearing Madam Song's words, Old Master Xu suddenly felt the urge to look at the painting.

He had actually seen all the paintings that girl had done before; he was curious—exactly which of her works was this one before him?

Immediately, a servant, head bowed and eyes down, handed over a pair of scissors with both hands; Old Master Xu took the scissors and began cutting the cowhide paper wrapping the painting from the left edge, his movements very careful and slow, showing how much he cherished this painting.

Madam Song off to the side had already stepped back a few paces, the malicious glee in her eyes waiting for the show growing ever stronger.

But as that layer of cowhide paper was gradually cut away, the painting's content slowly emerged; yet Old Master Xu's face did not show the expected solemnity or angry fury—instead his gaze grew gentle, as if he were looking at a completely ordinary painting.

What's going on?

Madam Song frowned in puzzlement, about to step forward to examine it, when she saw Old Master Xu reach out and touch the painting.

The next second, the nonagenarian's face underwent a drastic change.

With a "crack," the scissors slipped from his hand and fell to the ground.

Old Master Xu didn't bother with the scissors; he rose solemnly, reached out again and repeatedly rubbed the painting, as if trying to confirm something, and after apparently obtaining precise confirmation, he visibly became excited.

This painting of plum branches with light snow—its style and every brushstroke detail are flawless, exactly that girl's habit; this painting is indeed from her hand.

But, but it's not the same painting he watched her finish back then!

That painting has been separated by many years now; the ink has long dried, and the paper inevitably shows slight aging and yellowing.

But the painting before him, though the ink is dry, is far too new! He felt the difference at a touch and instantly concluded that the time from brushstroke to drying could not exceed three days.

In other words, this painting was done by that girl only recently!

She has appeared!

Old Master Xu almost instinctively lifted his head, his gaze sweeping around the banquet hall.

Where is that girl?!

Old Master Xu's abnormal reaction was too obvious; those around exchanged bewildered glances, none understanding what had happened.

At that moment, Madam Song also stepped forward to see the painting clearly; she instantly wore a look of astonishment and disbelief—"How—how is this painting still intact! Didn't I order someone to ruin it!"

How could those people have botched the job!

Seeing Old Master Xu's reaction, Pei Muyin thought he had discovered that the painting was a "forgery"; the girl pressed her lips, shifted the painting downward a bit, and spoke guiltily and candidly:

"Sorry, Mr. Xu, as you suspect, this painting is not the work of your beloved little disciple; the original painting… has been damaged, and this one is actually a hurried copy I had someone make."

"I am truly sorry for this extremely disrespectful and offensive act toward you and your disciple."

Hearing the girl's soft, polite voice, Old Master Xu instinctively glanced her way—had he not looked, it would have been fine, but the moment he did, his gaze was shocked and fixed heavily on Pei Muyin.

To be precise, it was above her eyes!

If seeing the person's belongings was enough to stir Old Master Xu's emotions, then seeing the actual person instantly transported him back, as if by transfer, to a certain real fragment of memory.

…

When young, Old Master Xu was an outstanding businessman, yet he had an unusually steadfast hobby: he loved painting ink wash.

Plum, orchid, bamboo, and rock—he painted them exceptionally well, his fame spreading far and wide, with many people coming by name hoping to purchase his paintings for thousands or tens of thousands of gold.

Old Master Xu refused them all; he painted ink wash not for fame or profit but to preserve his ancestors' legacy—evidently he had succeeded in passing it on, yet what baffled him endlessly was that his own biological children had absolutely no talent for it.

He had two sons and one daughter, and from childhood he nurtured them equally, personally taking their hands and teaching them himself.

Yet each one, instead of painting the noble orchid, drew it as edible chives, or instead of straight bamboo, drew it as twisted caterpillars.

It really infuriated him!

Old Master Xu thought perhaps they were just children, playful and fickle; if he persisted, would they improve a bit when they grew older?

Well, it seems he overthought it; the result was still as dreadful as in childhood, horrible to behold!

What's even more infuriating is that while he couldn't teach them painting, they picked up business instantly, as if they had cheat codes.

Old Master Xu often scolded the younger generation at home with: "You all reek of copper, only know how to make money, your eyes have nothing but cash! No trace of artistic feeling!"

Each time he spoke, he could go on for half an hour, making the three kids stand in a line like wilted trees.

Or his wife earnestly advised: "Haven't you heard the saying? God opens a door for you, and likely won't open two windows as well. Fish and bear's paw cannot both be had—how could anyone get all the benefits? Isn't that the principle?"

After hearing that, Old Master Xu pondered for a long time, finally came to understand, and stopped forcing his children to study painting.

Let the children and grandchildren have their own blessings.

Later, the three children gradually grew up, married, and Old Master Xu, wishing to retire early, slowly stepped down from his position as head of the family enterprise, shifting the burden from his shoulders onto theirs.

During that period, he had just become leisurely at home when an old close friend whom he hadn't seen in many years came to visit, bringing along his little granddaughter.

A girl of thirteen or fourteen, oh my, she was born beautifully—snow-white little face, a pair of lively peach-blossom eyes.

Upon seeing her, Old Master Xu exclaimed: "She's practically better looking than your second son, who was often mistaken for a girl when he was young! How did your second son manage to produce such offspring?"

The friend laughed in reply: "You were too busy to attend that rascal's wedding, so you didn't know—he relied on that face, begged and pleaded, and managed to marry an even more handsome girl."

The girl was not only good-looking; her peach-blossom eyes were curved, her mouth especially sweet, calling him "Grandpa Xu" over and over.

Hearing this, Old Master Xu's heart blossomed with joy, yet envy and resentment welled up—his own three sons were all mischievous troublemakers!

Both being of grandfatherly generation, their after-meal activity was fishing by the lake.

The spot was the lake behind the manor, where the servants had already prepared the fishing area in advance—