Yang Mingyi came out and saw his father holding Guaizai, stroking his head one moment, touching his face the next: "This child is really growing up so well-looking."
Fang Zichen agreed: "Mm! He certainly looks good, after all, he takes after me."
Yang Mutao: "..."
"Guaizai." Yang Mingyi called out as he approached.
"Yang Pig." Guaizai's eyes lit up: "Yang Pig, hold."
Yang Mingyi ignored Yang Mutao's reluctance and took Guaizai from his arms. Guaizai pulled a piece of candy from his pocket, knowing he would see Yang Mingyi today, he had specifically brought it for him.
Yang Mingyi never ate candy, but he couldn't bear to reject the child's kind gesture. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." Guaizai held onto his neck. "Father says good things should be shared. Father bought me a doggie, it's very very cute. Next time you come to my house, I'll let you hold it, okay?"
Yang Mingyi couldn't resist touching his soft cheek, careful not to use any force for fear of hurting him. "Okay."
Fang Zichen needed to go draw Old Madam Zheng's longevity portrait, so he could only entrust Guaizai to Yang Mingyi's care.
Eight people had come for this occasion, and they were currently in the back garden.
The scenery here was excellent. While outside, autumn was bleak and withered, the garden—well-tended by the servants—still had bright flowers in late autumn, giving it an almost spring-like vibrancy.
Old Madam Zheng hadn't arrived yet. The group gathered together, a table spread with tea and pastries, young servants and maids standing by to attend them.
Everyone knew each other. In the prefectural city and Fu'an Town, those ranked highly in painting skill were just these few people.
Among them, Old Master Qin and Bi Qian'an were the most renowned.
One was over sixty, the other in his forties. The youngest among the group present was already past thirty.
The Yang brothers offering a high price to hire a painter was known throughout the city. Anyone who wielded a brush to paint, anyone devoted to art, was undoubtedly tempted.
But upon hearing that Old Master Qin and Bi Qian'an were both involved, most withdrew.
They truly didn't want to display their incompetence before a master and make fools of themselves.
While the skills of the remaining few painters weren't equal to Old Master Qin and Bi Qian'an, they still had minor reputations of their own.
With Old Master Qin participating, they were well aware that with Old Master Qin participating, their hopes of securing the Yang family's commission were slim. Yet true masters were a proud sort; how could they concede defeat without even showcasing their skills? Their purpose in coming was not solely for the silver. If they were fortunate enough to earn a few words of guidance from Old Master Qin, the journey would be considered well worth their time.
Fang Zichen, a young man, joining them was like a lamb destined for slaughter mistakenly wandering into a pack of wolves.
Yang Mutao led him in, introduced everyone briefly, when a servant hurried over, saying there was an issue up front that Second Master couldn't decide on, and requested his presence.
Yang Mutao instructed Fang Zichen briefly, apologized to the group, and left with the servant.
Fang Zichen didn't know any of these people. Greetings had already been exchanged, so he sat to one side, picked up a pastry, and began eating utterly without regard for anyone else.
His striking demeanor and appearance naturally drew the eye. Perhaps it was the artist's innate appreciation for beauty, but for a long moment, the entire group found their gaze resting on him. Fang Zichen took a bite of pastry, glanced over them, saw them all staring at him, took another bite, glanced again, saw they were still staring, and he became somewhat displeased.
Fang Zichen picked up another pastry, thinking about turning away to eat it, when Old Master Qin spoke first.
"Young friend, are you also here to paint Old Madam Zheng's longevity portrait?"
Fang Zichen looked up at him. "Yes!"
Old Master Qin smiled. "Young friend, are you skilled in painting?"
Fang Zichen shook his head, then nodded. "Not particularly skilled. I'm competent in many things. If we're talking about what I'm most skilled at, then that would probably be eating."
Old Master Qin: "..."
Old Master Qin choked for a moment. "Then you..."
Fang Zichen took a bite of cake, a sip of tea, eating quite happily. "I can paint. While it's not the most proficient among my many skills, painting a simple portrait is something I can accomplish with ease."
These words were truly extremely arrogant.
They caused the others to whisper amongst themselves.
"This young man, his tone is quite bold!"
"This lad looks good, pity he's a fool."
"He looks quite young, probably not yet twenty. If so, he likely hasn't studied painting for more than a few years."
"Such a mere youngster, yet he dares to be so boastful. Truly, the ignorant are fearless."
Before Old Master Qin could respond, someone next to him spoke angrily. "With ease? Young friend, you seem very confident. Do you know who is sitting before you? Not to mention figures like Old Master Qin and Master Bi, even we few here have been immersed in this art for over twenty years and have never dared to speak so. Young friend certainly has spirit, but... you should just go back obediently."
"You not daring is your business," Fang Zichen glanced at him, curled his lip, and said, "I have the ability, so I dare to say it. A person's words should match their capability. Talking big without the skill is just boasting. I never boast."
"..."
Seeing this uncle still seemed somewhat unconvinced, Fang Zichen took another bite of pastry and said, "Uncle, you're being narrow-minded. In matters of skill, the accomplished lead regardless of age. I might not be as old as you, so what? Some people are geniuses! They seem born just to discourage others. They study for a few years and surpass what others achieve in ten or twenty."
"..." The man laughed in disbelief. "So, young friend, you mean to say you are such a genius?"
Fang Zichen nodded, very honestly. "Yes! Although I don't really think so myself, everyone says it. If one or two people say it, they might be mistaken. But when so many people believe it, then I probably am a genius. After all, the eyes of the masses are sharp."
His words left the group momentarily speechless. The world of scholars and artists valued modesty, restraint, and refined manners. This was their first time encountering someone like Fang Zichen.
To call him an ignorant youth boasting beyond his means didn't quite fit, as he wore a completely sincere expression and his arguments followed a certain internal logic, making it difficult to refute him directly. Left with no ready response, they could only resolve to let their brushes do the talking later, determined to humble his audacity through sheer skill.
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