Finest Servant

Chapter 136 The Second Rebuke of the Talented Woman (2)

Before Luo Ning could speak, Miss Wanying was the first to jump up and exclaim, "What nonsense are you talking about? This painting is well-done, acknowledged by everyone, even the Governor himself praised it."

Lin Wanrong was puzzled. Could this painting be the work of Miss Wanying? It didn't seem right. The girl was like a fiery pepper, could she possibly have such delicate brushstrokes?

No matter who painted it, the words were out, and Lin Wanrong was not afraid of her. He chuckled and replied, "I said it's flawed, and I have my reasons."

Luo Ning, her face flushing, asked, "Brother Lin, could you please point out the flaws in the painting?"

Seeing her face turn red, her expression twisting, and noting the delicacy of the brushstrokes on the painting, Lin Wanrong was taken aback. Could it be that this painting was done by Luo Ning, the number one talented woman?

On the side, Wanying huffed, "Sister Luo, don't mind him. He's always talking nonsense, belittling your painting without reason."

So, it really was Luo Ning's work. Thinking of how Luo Ning was hailed as the number one talented woman of Jinling, how aloof and proud she was, it must have been a severe blow to have Lin Wanrong succinctly describe her proud work as 'flawed' in front of everyone. It was remarkable she didn't break down in tears on the spot.

Lin Wanrong was caught between laughter and tears. If she had told him earlier... He would have shown restraint even towards that worthless young master, let alone her. However, Luo Ning was proud and stubborn. She didn't want her relationship with him to affect his independent opinion.

Seeing Luo Ning biting her lip, her face flushed with embarrassment, Lin Wanrong sighed. Having critiqued the number one talented man, and then the number one talented woman, he felt rather impressive himself.

"Brother Lin, please speak freely. I would very much like to hear your criticism," Luo Ning said bravely.

"Miss Luo, this painting is superior in terms of lines, brushstrokes, and angles," Lin Wanrong started on a positive note, then turned, "However, it seems a bit presumptuous."

Seeing everyone listening attentively, even Hou Yuebai and the always grumbling Wanying perked up their ears, Lin Wanrong continued, "From this painting, one can see the elder's ragged clothing, suggesting he is a commoner, still striving to meet basic needs. Am I right?"

Luo Ning nodded slightly, "Yes, I wanted to depict the worries of an ordinary citizen about the flood."

Lin Wanrong sighed, "Miss Luo, your intentions were good, but you don't understand the human heart, nor the common people. You've never suffered, so you have no clue what's on the minds of ordinary people. Our people in Great Hua are loyal and easily placated; if you provide them with enough food and warm clothes, they will treat you as their own parents. But at the same time, they are also the most pragmatic. If their basic needs are not met, they won't care about anything else. Imagine, if their survival is threatened, and yet you expect them to worry about the floods. Miss, do you think they're all saints concerned about the nation and its people? You're mistaken, terribly mistaken. For those at the bottom, survival is their first need; issues of the nation and race are miles away from their reality."

The talented men and women in the room fell silent, all at a loss for words. They were privileged sons and daughters who had never experienced the hardship of the lower classes. They assumed that everyone in the world was just like them, well-fed, with nothing to do but worry about national affairs. Lin Wanrong's words left them astounded but forced to admit that he had a point.

Everyone fell silent, even Miss Wanying, who had always disagreed with Lin Wanrong, gave him a glance of admiration.

Lin Wanrong felt heavy-hearted, as if he was carrying large stones. These ignorant, privileged young men, not only in Great Hua but also in his past life, were numerous. Out of touch with reality, disconnected from the masses, it was a tragedy indeed.

Luo Ning had drawn this painting based on her own perspective and assumptions. It was lauded by these talented individuals and initially, she was quite proud. Now thinking about it, she was far from the mark. If the skin does not exist, where can the hair attach? The whole concept of this painting was wrong; using the word 'flawed' was an understatement. It was entirely a waste.

Luo Ning, her eyes rimmed with red, desperately held back tears. Since she came of age, she had been hailed as the number one talented woman in Jinling due to her exceptional intelligence and academic excellence. While she remained modest and cautious, she couldn't avoid the little vanity in her heart. This critique was the biggest blow she had received as an adult. Despite her resilience, having been criticized by Lin Wanrong in front of everyone, she naturally felt wronged.

"If you want to paint life, first paint the heart." Seeing Luo Ning on the verge of tears, Lin Wanrong sighed wistfully, then said, "Don't cry, don't cry. I have a remedy."

Luo Ning wiped the corner of her eye and snorted, "Who's crying? What remedy do you have?"

Lin Wanrong pulled out a homemade pencil from his pocket and smiled, "I'll have to rely on this little gem."

Aside from Luo Ning, no one had seen this pencil before. Wanying seemed to have forgotten her earlier spat with Lin and asked, "Lin San, what is this?"

Lin Wanrong replied with a faint smile, "This is the result of a black horse and a white horse loving each other for a hundred years, turning into ashes. It's made from their ashes and called a pencil."

Wanying was taken aback, she hummed softly, quickly realizing that Lin San was jesting with her. She thought to herself, 'This man is really wicked, still in a playful mood at a time like this.' She lightly snorted and turned her head away, but she continued to watch Lin Wanrong's movements out of the corner of her eye.

Holding the pencil, Lin Wanrong lightly sketched a few strokes in the eyes of the portrait and added some on the face. He then clapped his hands and said, "Miss Luo, you should draw over the pencil marks."

The pencil marks were very faint; after several glances, the onlookers could not discern any specific features. Luo Ning, aware that he wasn't adept with a brush, hummed softly in acknowledgement. With her left hand pinching her sleeve and her right hand lifting a fine brush, she began to trace over the marks.

At first, she didn't fully understand what she was doing, but as she continued drawing, she became more and more amazed. By the end, her expression was one of excitement. She painted in even finer detail, and after a while, put down her brush and exclaimed joyfully, "Brother Lin, I get it now."

Everyone looked again at the table and saw the ragged old man in the painting, his eyes still harboring some sorrow but significantly lighter, and his face marked with faint traces of a smile.

Thinking back to what Lin Wanrong had said earlier, the crowd began to understand. The impoverished people working on the riverbank, despite their hardship and fatigue, were at least able to eat their fill. Naturally, they could smile. The sorrow in their eyes was born from the fear that once the embankment was finished, they would struggle to find enough food again. From their perspective, they would probably prefer the floods to return every year, giving them work on the embankment. When poor people smile, it often comes with tears; this was now a true portrayal in the painting.

In truth, Lin Wanrong wasn't very satisfied with this modification. Using sketching techniques to alter this traditional Chinese painting was a bit forced, but he had been harsh with his words earlier, pushing Luo Ning to the brink of tears. He had to salvage as much as he could.

Everyone let out a sigh of relief. To be honest, Luo Ning's painting, both in terms of stroke technique and the emotion it conveyed, was truly a remarkable piece. It would have been a shame had it been wasted. Now, it had been saved, which was indeed a stroke of great luck.

Wanying huffed, "Lin San, you lucked out. With just a few strokes, you now share in the credit for Sister Luo's painting."

'Goodness, this sort of correction to a painting with just a few strokes, if you're so capable, Miss, why don't you try doing it yourself?'

Hou Yuebai noticed that Lin San had some skill in painting, but he scoffed at his pencil technique. He thought to himself that Lin San was a person with lofty ideals but modest abilities. He had a talent for critiquing paintings, yet his own painting skills were mediocre. The next time he had a chance, he would challenge him in painting.

Only Luo Ning understood the power of Lin Wanrong's few strokes, which transformed the painting's atmosphere. 'Can I even claim this painting as my own now?' Luo Ning looked at the painting, her heart filled with sorrow and gratitude. Overwhelmed by emotions, she suddenly turned around and ran off.

Wanying quickly called out, "Sister Luo, where are you going?"

Luo Ning paused momentarily, yet she didn't turn back. In a soft voice, she said, "Wanying, please continue with the painting. I'm going over there to clear my mind, but I'll return soon."

Annoyed, Wanying cast a glare at Lin Wanrong and exclaimed, "Is this your handiwork?"

Lin Wanrong blinked in confusion, thinking, what does this have to do with me? Seeing Wanying puffed up in anger, he couldn't help but laugh and said, "Once upon a time, a white horse fell in love with a black horse..."

"You're asking for it—!" Wanying, ever the fiery one, couldn't stand his teasing. With a swift and forceful kick, she revealed herself to be a martial artist. No wonder she was the city's top female constable.

Unwilling to engage in a drawn-out quarrel, Lin Wanrong walked away towards the embankment. Just as he was about to find a spot to relieve himself, he spotted a petite figure sitting on the ground, staring blankly at the rolling river.

Could it be? He'd only criticized her a little, and now she was contemplating jumping into the river? Panic seized him, and he blurted out, "Miss Luo, don't jump—!"

Luo Ning turned her head at his exclamation, only to see Lin Wanrong rushing towards her. She offered him a smile and asked, "Brother Lin, what are you talking about?"

Lin Wanrong replied, "Miss Luo, you mustn't jump! I was only joking earlier. There's no need to be so desperate."

Embarrassed and irritated, Luo Ning retorted, "Brother Lin, what nonsense are you saying? Do I look like I'm about to jump into the river?"

"Well, that's a relief," Lin Wanrong wiped off his cold sweat, saying, "As long as you're not jumping, we can discuss everything."

Luo Ning thought he could be remarkably clever at times, yet incredibly obtuse at others, and she didn't quite know what to do with him. She stepped back a few paces, putting more distance between herself and the river, and said with a smile, "Now are you reassured?"

Unabashed, Lin Wanrong sat down beside her and said, "You scared me. I'm relieved you're not going to jump. Miss Luo, let me tell you, the water in the Yangtze River is muddy and yellow. If you're going to jump into water, don't pick this river. Xuanwu Lake, on the other hand, has clear water and picturesque views. It would be a far better choice."

Amused, Luo Ning looked at him and asked, "Brother Lin, is this your idea of comforting someone?"

Lin Wanrong responded with surprise, "Comfort? Why would I need to comfort you? Aren't you a strong woman who doesn't need solace?"

Luo Ning's expression darkened slightly. Shaking her head, she said, "Brother Lin, you're mistaken this time. I really feel terrible about myself."

Could it be that a small setback had made this incredibly talented woman lose heart? It seemed he needed to give a major boost to her resilience.

Luo Ning heaved a sigh, seated herself beside him, and gazed at the endless river. "In the past," she began, "I prided myself on my proficiency in the guqin, chess, calligraphy, and painting. I even outperformed the men, and that gave me such a thrill. But after seeing the couplets in the Food for Immortals, I felt discouraged. Your words yesterday and the feedback on my painting today made me realize that I am just a frog in the well, unaware of how vast the sky truly is. Just as you said, Brother Lin, being raised in an official's household, I've hardly interacted with the common folk. My experiences and insights are painfully limited, yet I'm so conceited. Now, I find myself rather distasteful."

‘This young lady is quite adept at self-criticism. Unlucky for her to run into me, but pressure leads to progress.’ Lin Wanrong nodded and said, "Miss Luo, you're sincere and compassionate. Everyone is too busy liking you to hate you. Holding on to your dreams is commendable. As for life experience, it can't be rushed. As you grow older and experience more, you'll understand."

Luò Ning glanced at him and said, "Brother Lin, I've always found it strange. You're only a few years older than me, yet you understand so much and grasp the human heart so well. How is that possible?"

That question was a tough one to answer. Lin Wanrong solemnly replied, "Actually, I've been asking myself the same thing. But, as you know, answering a question posed by a genius is indeed challenging."

It took Luo Ning a moment to pick up on his dry humor. Covering her mouth, she giggled, "Brother Lin, you never speak seriously."

Lin Wanrong sighed, "Honestly, aside from 'genius', I can't find any other word to describe me."

"I feel the same way," Luo Ning said softly.

Lin Wanrong burst into hearty laughter. ‘This young lady was picking up on my humor. Interesting.’

With a somewhat resigned expression, Luo Ning got up, saying, "Brother Lin, I'm going to paint. You're not allowed to follow me, or else, I'll 'die' again." She dashed off as if Lin Wanrong were a beast in pursuit.

‘Damn, am I really that terrifying? If you hadn't invited me, I wouldn't bother.’ After all that talking, he'd forgotten to relieve himself. Just as he was about to do so, a 'mud man' suddenly popped up beside him.

The figure was smeared with mud from head to toe, barefoot, with a somewhat familiar face. Lin Wanrong was taken aback, "Governor Luo, how did you get yourself into such a state?"

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