Chapter 341: How Does It Compare to Zhao Chun?
“Grandmother, this is too valuable; I cannot accept it.” Li Yi quickly placed the brocade box containing the luminous pearl back down. The pearl was no ordinary treasure, let alone one gifted to the Old Matron by his aunt.
Li Yi had little interest in such rare items. A glowing pearl that could only illuminate a small patch of space? It wasn’t even as bright as a 15-watt lightbulb in his eyes…
“We are family. There’s no need to talk about what’s valuable or not. Take it,” the Old Matron said with a warm smile, firmly pressing the box back into Li Yi’s hands.
She had always carried immense guilt for the child who had been lost to the outside world for twenty years. A luminous pearl was hardly sufficient to make up for even a fraction of what she owed him.
Holding the box containing the pearl, Li Yi hesitated, unsure how to refuse the Old Matron’s insistence. At that moment, voices of surprise from nearby drew his attention.
“This ‘Longevity Painting’—it does show some skill.”
“How amusing! Look closely—don’t the countless characters for ‘longevity’ form an image of a divine monkey holding a celestial peach?”
“Take a few steps back. It becomes even clearer.”
“Two ‘Longevity Paintings,’ each with its own merits. In terms of technique, this one doesn’t compare to Zhao Chun’s, but it stands out for its ingenuity. Not bad…”
...
The “Longevity Painting” created by Li Yi, the eldest grandson of the Li family, was evidently not as subpar as some had anticipated. While it did not match the mastery of Zhao Chun, a renowned calligrapher, it was still of solid, above-average quality. What made it truly remarkable was its originality. Over one hundred different “longevity” characters were arranged to form the image of a “Divine Monkey Offering a Peach,” adding a deeper layer of meaning. Clearly, a great deal of thought and effort had been poured into it.
Failing to witness the embarrassment she had been hoping for, Fang Shi’s expression darkened.
“Let me take a look,” a voice said.
The crowd parted as a figure pushed forward. Recognizing the newcomer, they quickly stepped aside to make room.
The Zuo family was known as masters of calligraphy, and the still-living Elder Zuo’s regular script had reached a level of perfection that was said to be worth its weight in gold. While Zuo Qiu, the man now stepping forward, was less famous than Elder Zuo, he was still considered second only to a select few grandmasters in the art. His skills were far beyond the reach of the average person.
Zuo Qiu picked up the scroll, pacing as he studied it, but he refrained from making any immediate comments.
“Longevity Paintings” didn’t literally contain ten thousand “longevity” characters. The term was simply an exaggerated descriptor often used to signify a large number. In fact, such works were more commonly referred to as “Hundred Longevity Paintings.”
The one in Zuo Qiu’s hands was precisely such a “Hundred Longevity Painting.”
“Longevity Paintings” were cherished not for the mere accumulation of countless characters for longevity but for their individual artistry. Each character had to be distinct in style. Zhao Chun’s famed “Longevity Painting” was highly uniform, with each character unique but of similar size and aligned in neat rows. It could just as easily have been called a “Longevity Scroll” for its precision.
By contrast, the painting in Zuo Qiu’s hands was a true “Longevity Painting.”
Stepping back from the intricacies of the characters themselves, from a distance, one could clearly see the image of a divine monkey offering a celestial peach. This alone demonstrated the artist’s dual talent in both calligraphy and painting.
That said, Zuo Qiu wasn’t particularly concerned with the artistic merits of the piece. His eyes were entirely drawn to the array of “longevity” characters—some large, some small, some upright, some tilted.
Zhao Chun’s fame was well known, but in Zuo Qiu’s eyes, Zhao Chun was still a young and inexperienced talent. If Zuo Qiu wanted to find fault with one of Zhao Chun’s works, he could identify a thousand errors in a single painting.
Yet, before this scroll, he could find no flaws. It appeared utterly flawless—an impossibility, of course. The only explanation was that his own expertise was insufficient to detect its shortcomings.
And indeed, Zuo Qiu’s expertise fell short.
The painting incorporated the techniques of calligraphic masters such as Wang Xizhi, Yan Zhenqing, Ouyang Xun, Zhao Mengfu, and Liu Gongquan. It included examples of regular script, running script, and cursive script, with dozens of unique styles, all produced during their creators’ peak periods. If Zuo Qiu could find fault with such a work, he would have already achieved worldwide fame.
Over the past two days, Li Yi had put aside even the scriptures an old monk had asked him to transcribe. He had devoured every book on calligraphy and painting in the library, immersing himself in their contents. Meanwhile, the Second Miss Liu Ruyi, who had initially come looking for him to play cards, had been repurposed into a personal ink-grinding maid. After all that effort, if he couldn’t produce something presentable, it would’ve been an injustice to his hard work.
“Exquisite! Simply exquisite!” Zuo Qiu exclaimed as he cradled the painting, seemingly lost in its beauty. Slowly, he paced away from the crowd, holding the scroll as if in a trance.
“Pah! Shameless fool! How dare he covet the Old Matron’s birthday gift!” Yan Zhang was the first to react, his expression darkening. Having known Zuo Qiu for years, he was all too familiar with the man’s nature. Without hesitation, he hurried after him.
Moments later, Zuo Qiu reluctantly placed the “Longevity Painting” back on the table, a look of profound regret on his face.
“With a painting like this, I could forget about any ancient scrolls. What a pity, what a pity…”
The crowd stared at him in stunned silence. Was such behavior really necessary over a mere painting?
Li Yi, the Li family’s eldest grandson, was not a renowned calligrapher. Did his work truly warrant such a reaction from Zuo Qiu?
But seeing both Zuo Qiu and Yan Zhang fixated on the painting, reluctant to look away, even the slowest of onlookers began to realize the truth.
This painting was anything but ordinary.
Earlier, when Zhao Chun’s “Longevity Painting” had been displayed, neither man had shown the slightest interest. Yet now, both were utterly captivated.
Some in the audience were astonished, others puzzled, but the majority began to harbor doubts about the painting’s origin.
Li Yi claimed he had made it himself. However, given how two highly accomplished calligraphy masters were treating the work, could it really have come from the hand of a young man?
The Old Matron personally put the painting away, her smile growing wider. For her, it didn’t matter whether her grandson truly made the piece. What mattered was that he had poured his heart into it as a birthday gift.
Meanwhile, Zuo Qiu and Yan Zhang were surrounded by a small group of people. Murmurs began to emerge.
“How does this ‘Longevity Painting’ compare to Zhao Chun’s?”
“Incomparable? But that’s Zhao Chun we’re talking about!”
“They’re both young. It’s not impossible to imagine him surpassing Zhao Chun. For Zuo Qiu to claim it falls far short is overly modest.”
...
Li Yi twirled the sword belonging to the Second Miss Liu Ruyi in his hand, killing time with boredom.
In ancient times, birthday celebrations weren’t as straightforward as modern ones—cutting a cake, saying a few cheerful words, and diving straight into the meal.
After several tedious rituals, the little chubby boy’s stomach had been growling for at least a quarter of an hour, yet no one had given the signal to start eating.
Two men, both older than the Old Matron combined, sat on either side of Li Yi. They had been pestering him for a long while, and their request was simple: they wanted exact copies of the Old Matron’s “Longevity Painting.”
Such an unreasonable demand was met with an immediate refusal from Li Yi.
Creating such a piece required far too much effort. He hadn’t even finished transcribing the monk’s scriptures yet, and with the Old Matron’s birthday banquet just a few days away, he had no time to indulge these two in their requests.