I Can Devour Spirits-Chapter 36: Jiang Qingyu

At dusk, the decorative lights started to illuminate.

It was not yet the busiest time at Huaying Building, but laughter and sounds of playing games could already be heard faintly. Even the idle flower ladies were dressed flamboyantly, waiting for patrons to arrive.

At this moment, a figure suddenly appeared under an old pagoda tree at the street corner diagonally opposite Huaying Building.

The person was wearing a brown short suit, with a nimble physique.

He carried a bag slung over his shoulder containing brushes, inkstone, and vermilion.

His right hand held a large easel, and there’s a folding stool hanging from his wrist.

A knife was strapped to his waist, and a lantern was held in his left hand.

Truly a walking kiosk!

The newcomer was Duan Rong, with a square face, bright eyes, and dark complexion.

Duan Rong walked under the old pagoda tree, first placing the easel and stool down before drawing his knife and stabbing it into the tree trunk, then hung the lantern on the hilt of the knife.

The lantern’s dim light cast a mottled yellow halo.

Only then did Duan Rong set up the easel, removing the sheet of xuan paper fixed on it, leaving just one sheet on the drawing board.

Then, Duan Rong drew out a wooden board from behind the drawing board.

Duan Rong’s right hand flicked and produced an inch-long iron nail from his sleeve; using the inner breath in his palm, he gently hit the board.

The wooden board was fixed under the lantern on the tree trunk, illuminated by the dim light, showing a layer of white paper with powerful ink characters written on it: Portrait, Ten Taels per Piece.

Duan Rong looked at the characters on the board and nodded satisfactorily, then set the stool and prepared the dyes, sitting quietly in waiting.

This Huaying Building was the chosen site for his new business model.

Everything was ready; now only promotion remained...

Duan Rong decided to adopt the simplest and most primitive method of promotion: street push!

Duan Rong sat there, eyes observing his nose, nose observing his heart, silently reciting: Jiang Taigong fishing, willing ones take the bait...

Jiang Qingyu was the sole heir of Jiang Heng, the major owner of the silk shop in Xianggu County.

The Jiang Family not only had four silk shops in Xianggu County, but also ran a large dye workshop, doing considerable business, counted as one of the major forces in the county.

This sole heir of Jiang Heng, Jiang Qingyu, was only seventeen this year, handsome as jade, with amorous eyes—truly a paragon of a gentleman.

Not only was Jiang Qingyu attractive, but his Martial Arts talent wasn’t lacking either. At a young age, he had already mastered the Jiang Family’s Martial Arts—Illusion Cloud Sword Skill to the Third Level of Inner Breath’s Minor Success Realm.

Jiang Qingyu, being the sole heir and talented, was deeply doted on by his grandmother, never lacking in silver coins, and was also a regular at Huaying Building.

The Four Great Flower Shadows each had their distinct characteristics.

Lian Ying, enchanting and licentious.

Mei Ying, cool and graceful.

Ju Ying, spicy and bright.

Lan Ying, mournful and elegant.

Jiang Qingyu showed particular affection for Lan Ying, choosing this evening for their promised rendezvous.

In the afternoon, Jiang Qingyu, with some friends, drank a little and gambled a few rounds; now, slightly tipsy, he rode a Cyan-Maned Horse, led by his personal servant Jiang Rong—one hand holding a lantern to light the way and the other holding the horse bridle as he walked slowly, while Jiang Qingyu himself dozed on the horse.

As they passed under the old pagoda tree opposite Huaying Building, Jiang Qingyu felt slightly dazzled, thinking they had arrived, he lazily raised his eyelids and realized he was under the old pagoda tree.

The tree trunk had a knife embedded in it, from which the lantern hanging gave off a shimmering light that caught his eye.

Under the tree was a stool with a person seated, square-faced and broad-foreheaded, dark-skinned, and in front of him was an oddly shaped easel.

Behind that person, on the tree trunk, was a nailed sign; under the lantern’s dim light, bold cursive script could be discerned, elegant and powerful, but from a distance and written hastily, Jiang Qingyu couldn’t immediately discern the text.

Jiang Qingyu slightly surprised, pulled his horse to a stop.

The servant Jiang Rong, seeing Jiang Qingyu halt the horse, immediately raised the lantern and said, "Master, what is it?"

"Go see what that person is up to." Jiang Qingyu pointed his chin towards Duan Rong under the old pagoda tree, saying.

Jiang Rong walked over with the lantern to stand in front of Duan Rong, his large eyes blinking like a toad’s, glancing at Duan Rong and the easel before him, a hint of confusion flashing in his eyes, he asked somewhat unkindly: "Boy, what business are you conducting beneath this big tree?"

Duan Rong glanced at Jiang Rong without responding, instead pointing to the sign nailed to the tree beside him.

Jiang Rong looked at the sign, roughly making out two columns of six large characters; although he had a scant grasp of literature, he couldn’t recognize these cursive written characters.

Jiang Rong, suddenly annoyed and about to lose his temper, was interrupted by Duan Rong: "I’m here selling paintings. Ten taels per piece."

Jiang Rong paused slightly; although Duan Rong’s appearance was unimpressive, his calm demeanor in speaking suggested a poise comparable to more worldly individuals.

Jiang Rong snorted coldly through his nose, then turned and walked back to the Cyan-Maned Horse, saying, "Master, he’s a painter."

"A painter?"

"Yes, ten taels per painting."

"What? Ten taels per piece, is his painting done with gold dust?"

Jiang Qingyu, having lost quite a bit gambling in the afternoon, felt gloom weighing on his heart; always prone to impulsive martial flair, he immediately dismounted in anger and said: "What bothers me the most are these Jianghu swindlers!"

Jiang Qingyu approached Duan Rong, angrily under the lantern’s glow, finally seeing the words on Duan Rong’s sign: Portrait, Ten Taels per Piece.

Jiang Qingyu got closer; the first surprise was how well the cursive writing on the sign was executed.

Though not at the level of a renowned artist, it definitely showed substantial skill—such form couldn’t be done without years of diligent practice.

Jiang Qingyu was born into a wealthy family, practically with a silver spoon in his mouth.

Throughout his upbringing, the resources spent by the Jiang family were considerable.

He studied literature at eight, and martial arts at twelve.

All his tutors were notable names in the district.

In this world, martial spirit thrived; yet martial arts training started at twelve because younger frames were too fragile and could be injured training.

Thus, Jiang Qingyu first studied literature and then martial arts, studying writing and painting too under masters for years.

Naturally, he could recognize the skill in Duan Rong’s writing at a glance.

Seeing the writing had slightly adjusted Jiang Qingyu’s impression of Duan Rong. "Maybe this guy really has some skill?"

Jiang Qingyu looked at Duan Rong, questioning, "What do you mean by portrait?"

Duan Rong looked up with bright starry eyes and replied, "With my brush, I restore your true visage, that is a portrait!"

Jiang Qingyu was taken aback by the audacity. "What bold words!"

"Jiang Rong, give him ten taels of silver. I’m curious to see how you restore my true face."

Upon hearing this, Jiang Rong, carrying the lantern, removed a ten-tael silver note from his sleeve and placed it on Duan Rong’s easel crossbeam.

Duan Rong glanced at the silver note and said, "Master may pay after the painting is completed."

"No!" Jiang Qingyu said, "I’ll pay first. If the painting isn’t good, I’ll smash your stall!"

Duan Rong, hearing this, said no more, only gave a meaningful smile, adjusted the easel, and said, "Master, come a bit closer; in the shadow of the tree, I can’t see clearly..."