Chapter 30: The Two Saints and the Little Rat

Act on impulse.

Li Hao had Zhao Bo prepare pigments, brushes, ink, paper, and inkstone for him; after each day’s fishing with the old master, he would request permission to return to his Shanhe Courtyard to rest.

Li Muxiu said nothing in response; his philosophy in cultivating Li Hao was laissez-faire.

Although Li Hao had demonstrated extraordinary physical cultivation talent, he never forced him to train daily; if Li Hao chose to seek guidance, he would offer earnest instruction, but if not, he would take the boy out daily to wander mountains and rivers, fishing wherever they pleased.

…

Within the Shanhe Courtyard, in the vast courtyard.

Li Hao had servants bring two small stools—one tall, one short—and, like an art student, began sketching on an erected board.

Zhao Bo pleaded earnestly, but Li Hao ignored him; utterly powerless against this young master who indulged in idle pursuits, Zhao Bo could only hand him over to Li Fu.

Li Hao already had a way to deal with Li Fu: he revealed his second layer of the Jiao Dragon Body before him.

Li Fu stared in shock, doubting his eyesight; he asked Li Hao to demonstrate again, and after the second time, when he clearly saw it, the man’s eyes instantly welled with emotion.

He assumed it was Second Uncle’s cultivation and guidance that had enabled Li Hao to master this supreme physical cultivation art’s second layer in less than a month; filled with gratitude toward Second Uncle, he was also thrilled and excited by Li Hao’s physical cultivation talent.

Such talent far surpassed achieving full strength in the Wild Ox Power in three months—it was unquestionably top-tier physical cultivation genius.

Seeing Li Fu’s ecstatic state, Li Hao secretly felt relieved he hadn’t demonstrated the third layer, the Hundred Jiao Body, right before him; after all, not everyone possessed the old master’s vision and resilience.

In exchange, Li Hao promised Li Fu he would train seriously with Second Uncle, on one condition: that Li Fu stop interfering whenever he pursued other activities.

This left Li Fu both delighted and troubled; with Li Hao’s extraordinary physical cultivation talent, he now wished Li Hao would train nonstop, save for eating and sleeping, to catch up with the Nine-Class Battle Bodies’ prodigies—but Li Hao’s lazy nature left him utterly helpless.

After prolonged negotiation, Li Fu finally relented and agreed.

Thus, Li Hao began painting openly in the courtyard.

As he dipped his brush and began to draw, characters appeared before him.

【Painting Dao: 0th Stage (1/100)】

It worked.

Li Hao smiled knowingly and began painting freely.

Drawing on his experience with Chess Dao and Fishing Dao, Li Hao guessed that the better his painting, the more experience he would gain.

Thus, he did not paint carelessly, but instead drew with greater care.

Yet, in his past life, he had been a businessman, immersed in commerce for decades—he knew nothing of painting. He only vaguely understood how women painted…

For his first painting, he chose a portrait sketch and selected the most beautiful maid in the courtyard, having her stand before the board.

Then, confidently, he picked up his brush: first a circle, then a vertical line, then a slash and a hook, followed by another slash and hook.

Hmm, missing some hair.

Done!

【Painting Dao experience +1】

Sigh… painting really is hard.

Li Hao smiled wryly to himself.

Beside him, Zhao Bo stole a glance at the board and asked curiously, “Young Master, what is this?”

“Can’t you tell? It’s a person!” Li Hao replied, embarrassed and annoyed.

“But this…?” Zhao Bo was baffled.

Li Hao huffed, “You think it doesn’t look like one? That’s because you don’t understand the meaning behind my brushwork. Look at this circle—you think it’s a head? No, it represents adaptability. This vertical line—you think it’s the body? No, it expresses that to stand upright, one must be adaptable. Zhao Bo, you still have much to learn—don’t be so blunt!”

“Then… that blob on the circle isn’t hair?”

“Not exactly, yet it is. It is both hair and ideal.”

“Ideal?”

Li Hao said calmly, “Ideals grow on the head—isn’t that reasonable? This lush hair represents many people’s ideals—isn’t that also reasonable?”

“??” Zhao Bo was utterly confused.

After his nonsense explanation, Li Hao continued painting.

Zhao Bo and Li Fu exchanged bewildered glances: he had drawn dozens of sketches, all nearly identical, and yet the beautiful maid stood there as a model—what was the point?

Clearly, this young master had zero talent for painting, unlike his chess skill.

But since all were idle distractions from martial cultivation, they didn’t bother probing further.

Li Hao painted quickly; soon, a pile of discarded paper accumulated on the ground, and before long, his experience reached one hundred.

It had all been accumulated one point at a time. Li Hao felt mentally drained.

【Painting Dao advanced to First Stage】

【Art Skill Point +1】

As the prompt appeared, a wave of Painting Dao insight surged into his heart; Li Hao closed his eyes for a moment, gradually absorbing it, and instantly realized how utterly amateurish he had been.

He picked up his brush again and painted; his strokes now carried divine grace, and soon, a graceful, elegant figure appeared on the paper.

Li Fu and Zhao Bo, idly looking around, happened to glance at the painting and froze, eyes wide in astonishment.

Soon after, Li Hao lightly touched the lips with vermilion, then dipped his brush in pigment to add color; instantly, a lifelike, poised figure stood on the board.

【Painting Dao experience +13】

Li Hao was pleasantly surprised—indeed, the more detailed and refined the painting, the greater the Painting Dao experience gained.

And now, he could finally say he knew how to paint.

“Young Master, this…?” Zhao Bo stared at the painting, dumbfounded; moments ago it was crude stick figures, now it was this level? Had the young master somehow learned it in mere moments?

Or had he been pretending all along? Or… could those stick figures truly have been “meaning,” as he claimed?

He felt his previous understanding violently shaken.

“Basic move. Don’t overreact,” Li Hao said calmly.

Zhao Bo didn’t understand, but he was deeply awed nonetheless.

Li Hao painted a few more portraits, and once he felt more skilled, he had Li Fu and Zhao Bo stand before the board and painted each of them; the portraits captured lifelike eyes—one with age and kindness, the other stern yet slightly unnatural, gazing elsewhere.

Holding their finished portraits, both men looked at them with complex emotions.

This young master’s talent was rare in the world; had he been born into a scholarly family, he would have been treasured.

But this was the Divine General’s Mansion—a warrior clan where one was born to defend Dayu.

Once the ink and pigment dried, both men involuntarily rolled the paintings up carefully, treating them with solemn reverence.

They would remember: in the year he turned seven, the young master painted them each a portrait.

It was the first time in their lives they had received their own likenesses.

…

…

Time flew swiftly—six months later.

Along the tranquil shore of the Black Water Demon Lake, three figures sat fishing, each spaced over ten meters apart: two elders and one child.

The child was, of course, Li Hao; the elders were Li Muxiu and another—the old master’s fishing companion, whom Li Hao learned from his grandfather was the Thief Saint, whose name was oddly fitting: Feng Bo Ping.

According to the Thief Saint, he had chosen the name himself: it did not mean he struck only when the waters were calm, but that after he struck, the waters remained calm.

During their fishing, Li Muxiu chuckled as he recounted the Thief Saint’s exploits to Li Hao, realizing the name was indeed apt.

Many factions whose treasures the Thief Saint stole only discovered the theft months—or even years—later.

Often, they didn’t even realize it at first, leaving no clue as to who stole it, when, or whether it was even an inside job…

Hidden deeds, hidden fame; treasures sought among mortals—that was the Thief Saint, Feng Bo Ping.

On the shore, Li Hao skillfully set up a large pot, cleaning the freshly caught fish demon, gutting and slicing it, while occasionally glancing at his fishing line.

The rod’s other end was anchored to the shore, tied with rope through a hole to a large stone—he could still react in time if there was a bite.

At this moment, Li Hao used his sword to process the fish demon’s innards, his movements expert.

Li Muxiu and the Thief Saint were no longer surprised; though merely preparing fish, both had long recognized Li Hao’s extraordinary sword talent. When Li Muxiu first saw Li Hao wield his sword, he had mocked him, saying his sword lacked Dao, had eyes but no soul, and had lost a true treasure.

The Thief Saint, Feng Bo Ping, greatly admired this lively boy who loved fishing and showed no unusual reaction to his secretive identity; he had once seriously promised to search far and wide for medicinal herbs to unblock Li Hao’s meridians.

Soon, the snow-white fish flesh went into the pot.

Li Hao kneaded in some coriander and chili peppers; the fragrant, spicy aroma immediately spread, drawing frequent glances from the two elders.

Their lines were cast deep into the lake, far beyond sight; they used their own bodies as rods, the lines invisible, no floats—instead, they sensed movement directly through the lines.

“Gentlemen, it’ll be ready in three minutes,” Li Hao smiled.

After prolonged contact, Li Hao now called Li Muxiu “Second Uncle,” and Feng Bo Ping “Old Feng”; in return, the two elders had given Li Hao a nickname they found vivid and apt:

Little Rat.

(End of Chapter)