Lanqi Doesn't Know How to Paint

In District 2 of Palieu's North Bank, at Parkinson Palace. Pendant stalactite vaulting adorned the arches, while sculpted angels danced across the reliefs, appearing almost ready to take flight. At the center of the dome, stained-glass mosaics cast a vibrant sea of rainbow hues across the marble floor. Walking through the exhibition hall, the two were flanked by a pair of seven-meter-tall sphinxes confronting one another—much like an avatar of their own relationship. "I didn't expect seeing it with my own eyes to feel so different from its projection in an artificial shadow world." "An artificial shadow world is, after all, merely a man-made creation. It can never achieve the divinely wrought interplay of reality and shadow found in a true shadow world." After leaving the Palieu Card Makers Association, Lanqi and Talia had agreed to spend the morning of their date here at one of the largest and oldest art museums on the Southern Continent, a celebrated landmark of the Kingdom of Posen. Even though the third round of the Platinum-rank card maker exam had used a projection of Parkinson Palace as its venue, ever since then, both of them had wanted to take a look at the real place in person. Indeed, Parkinson Palace was practically an essential destination for anyone traveling through the Kingdom of Posen. Yet precisely because their hotel was so close to Parkinson Palace, they had passed by it constantly without ever feeling a rush to visit. Much like how locals rarely visit tourist attractions in their own hometowns, living so close made them feel they could go whenever they liked. Had the opportunity not presented itself today, they might well have put it off indefinitely. "Built nearly a thousand years ago, it originally served as a fortress to repel foreign invasions. After peace arrived, it was converted into an imperial palace. During this era, Parkinson Palace began collecting art, gradually acquiring Sacred-rank and even Epic-rank pieces. Over time, successive kings expanded and embellished the palace, turning it into the heart of Posen's art and culture." As the two strolled through the exhibition hall, pausing occasionally to admire a piece or share their thoughts, the docent's voice drifted into their ears. "Until nearly a century ago, when it was converted into a public museum. After undergoing multiple expansions and renovations, it opened its doors to the public, allowing all to appreciate its rich collection." High upon the vaulted ceilings, sculpted reliefs traced dynamic scenes of soaring eagles and galloping pegasi, brimming with vitality. "Which one do you like best, Tata?" Standing at one side of the central hall, Lanqi asked Talia beside him. Right in the center hung an immense oil painting by Stephen Martin, a master painter of the ancient empire: *The Rise of the Evernight Kingdom*. Though damaged, it remained magnificent, recreating a ferocious battlefield of brandished spears and dragons roaring across the sky, where the blood of countless warriors blossomed into unquenchable flames of glory amidst the darkness. To the left hung Isaac Claire's gentle and splendid painting, *The Earth Mother's Gift*, where a graceful woman draped in white gossamer held an urn of precious ambrosia, stepping through misty clouds toward the earth while lovingly leading a spotless lamb. On the other side of the gallery, *Three Questions of the Magic Mirror* by the Grimmus Brothers reflected a hazy, mysterious woman's face. Gazing into the mirrored realm, she possessed both the weathered depth of a sage and the naive innocence of a maiden, as though interrogating the viewer with life's three greatest mysteries. These were all paintings renowned throughout the Southern Continent. Yet Lanqi did not voice his own choice. "..." Talia simply turned her head, fixing her eyes on the entire rear wall. There spanned an Epic-rank mural hundreds of meters long by the ancient imperial painter Tolkien: *The Demon Sovereign's Judgment*. It vividly brought to life a grand, earth-shaking scene of a heroic army tens of millions strong charging forward in a fight to the death against the Demon Sovereign. She looked at the painting in silence. Yet that was the answer she gave Lanqi. "What a coincidence. That's my favorite, too." Only at this moment did they feel a sense of being kindred spirits—or having matching tastes—yet neither was willing to admit it. In a way, both of them were skilled painters in their own right; they simply never spoke to each other about artistic appreciation, usually focusing instead on magic card crafting and magic engineering. "Did Hyperion ever mention Esmod to you? Esmod, the True Night Lord." Lanqi asked Talia. Great demons were not necessarily skilled at painting; almost all had their own specialties. During the era of the Blood Moon Ruined World, the great demon most proficient in painting was likely Esmod. "She mentioned her. Supposedly a woman of exceptional talent." Talia nodded. "Come to think of it, you're a prodigy too. After all, like her, you can produce Sacred-rank paintings." Lanqi couldn't help praising her. "It's not the same. When you encountered her in the shadow world, she was far younger than I am." Talia admitted candidly. "..." Lanqi felt as if his lines had just been stolen, his words catching in his throat. She seemed to have remarkably little competitive pride when it came to her own kin. "Speaking of which, if you had been brought into that last shadow world as the princess, how would you have handled Hyperion's situation?" He shifted to a question he had wondered about for a long time. Hyperion was a staunch conservative, whereas Talia's conservatism and radicalism had a dual nature; she could be conservative or radical depending on the circumstances and her mood. "I would have told them, 'I am the Demon King. None of you are.'" Talia answered as though it were the most natural thing in the world. She tolerated no defiance from any great demon. Since she sat upon that throne, those who complied would flourish, and those who rebelled would perish. "Then if you were to restore your kingdom according to your original wish, wouldn't you end up walking the path of a tyrant?" Lanqi asked in surprise. No wonder in the timeline where Talia obtained the Compassionate Psalms and restored her kingdom, she became a true Demon King. "It can't be helped. A restoration sovereign must be prepared to be a tyrant; not everyone can be a holy and benevolent monarch." Talia had also gained a general understanding of the first three Blood Moon Ruined World shadow worlds Lanqi and Hyperion had experienced. "Still, at the end of the Blood Moon Ruined World era, if Lankeluosi of the Black Sun managed to bring an end to it all and be crowned king, given his character, he surely became a benevolent ruler." The more she learned, the more convinced she was that the Blood Moon Ruined World was an era even earlier than the Sacred Empire. Even though ancient history from tens of thousands of years ago had long been lost to time, Talia believed that in the eyes of later generations from that era, Lankeluosi of the Black Sun must have been a celebrated hero. Surely he wouldn't have spent his whole life losing everything he had to lose, only to end up bearing infamy and being vilified for millennia. Chatting along the way, the two climbed the stairs, where the Gallery of Reason and the Gallery of Prosperity unfolded before them. As they discussed the sights, Talia came to a halt beneath a painting. Lanqi stopped as well, following her gaze. The painting depicted a serene, peaceful scene. A beautiful young woman in a long gown lay upon an Ikerite-style four-poster bed. Her delicate brows were relaxed, her rosy lips parted ever so slightly, her expression tranquil and soft like a sleeping angel. Her long silver hair fanned across the pristine pillow, and the white silk sheets accentuated her alabaster skin. Beyond the window lay a verdant forest dense with lush trees, where dappled sunlight filtered through the window frame, casting shifting light and shadow across the girl. "This *Sleeping Beauty* truly deserves its acclaim. Though asleep, the beauty looks as if she could awaken at any moment, leaving viewers eagerly awaiting the prince who will wake her." Lanqi commented. And the one who could gaze upon her sleeping face, the one she waited for, was obviously Duke Mikhail. Beside him, Talia did not reply, merely staring up in a daze at the sleeping beauty in the painting. She stood there watching for a long time. Visitors came and went, yet they alone remained motionless before the canvas. Lanqi said nothing more to disturb her, keeping her silent company. "Let's go." Snapping out of her reverie, Talia drew her gaze away from the painting. "I'll help you bring her back. Soon." Lanqi said. Though it did not sound like a formal vow, it carried quiet certainty—this was a task he would inevitably see through. Once they were ready, their next destination would be the Creti Empire. It was also the final step necessary to inaugurate his retirement. "When you need it, all my power is yours to use." Having heard his words, Talia promised him resolutely. The two completed another circuit, notably quieter than they had been outside the museum. Or rather, inside an art gallery, there was nothing to squabble over; the atmosphere naturally demanded it. Leaving the main exhibition hall, they stepped out into the Palieu Plaza of the left wing, passing a fountain graced with a statue of the God of Will and Love. By now, they had covered nearly half of Parkinson Palace. It was about time to head toward the exit. Noon was approaching, and they would need to find a restaurant for lunch. Strolling through a side-gallery corridor closer to the exit, their attention was suddenly caught by a bustling crowd gathered around a painting. It seemed to be a temporary exhibition area, yet quite a few onlookers had gathered to listen to the docent's presentation. As the two drew near, they instantly recognized the familiar painting. The canvas displayed a deep, dark night backdrop, seemingly illuminated by the glow of a temple's lamps. A gray-haired woman draped in a tattered cloak stood quietly, like a beam of moonlight piercing the darkness. Her face was completely concealed by a pigeon, its wings unfurling across the center of the painting in an abrupt and stunning visual impact. "When you look closely, however, you can catch a glimpse of the woman's eyes through the gaps in the night pigeon's wings—a pair of golden eyes, clear as amber and dazzling as gold." The docent pointed to the painting behind him as he explained to the visitors. Not only were gentlefolk admiring *The Enigmatic Beauty*, but a small media interview was also underway. A reporter from the Palieu Broadcasting Company, holding a microphone and accompanied by camera equipment, was interviewing visitors before the canvas to gather their thoughts on this mysterious piece. "Her gaze pierces through the pigeon's cover, falling directly upon the viewer. You cannot help but lean closer, yearning to peer deeper and unveil the true countenance of this enigmatic beauty." "And when you are merely a foot away, the enigmatic beauty's golden eyes are locked squarely upon your face." "The painter captured the allure of this instant to perfection, immortalizing it forever upon the canvas." The greatest charm of *The Enigmatic Beauty* lay precisely in this: the less one could see the full face of the gray-haired, golden-eyed beauty, the more one imagined just how breathtaking she must be. "I've actually seen the model for this enigmatic beauty in person! She's Miss Tata, who took part in the Platinum-rank card maker exam. She's truly stunning—a perfect young lady, youthful and brilliant. Even without any dressing up, her brilliance can't be concealed." After the docent finished speaking, the onlookers broke into excited discussion. "Pfft—" Hearing this, Lanqi couldn't hold back a laugh. "..." Even though Talia tried her utmost to maintain her composure, her grip on his hand tightened slightly. "Then the painter—that mysterious examiner from the Hutton Kingdom—must be secretly in love with her to depict her so enchantingly. This perspective is the very definition of a boy's heart skipping a beat the moment he meets a girl." Another spectator chimed in. At those words, Lanqi's smile froze. Meanwhile, Talia seemed to let out a light chuckle. "I hear someone has a crush on me." Talia stood on tiptoe, whispered softly into Lanqi's ear, and turned her gaze back forward. "Lanqi?" "Lanqi?" Talia called twice in succession, but Lanqi uttered not a sound. Just as Talia felt an itch to seize Lanqi by the shoulder and whisper to him some more, the reporter from the Palieu Broadcasting Company seemed to notice this intimate pair and promptly bustled over. This push-and-pull, this tender hesitation—wasn't it the very emotional state between the artist and the gray-haired maiden when they first met in *The Enigmatic Beauty*? It was as though their silhouettes had stepped right into reality! "Excuse me, how do you two view this painting? Or what frame of mind do you think the artist was in when creating this portrait of the enigmatic beauty?" The Palieu Broadcasting Company reporter held out the microphone, eagerly pitching the question to Lanqi and Talia. "He's rather good at painting." Talia looked up at Lanqi beside her with keen amusement. The reporter turned the microphone toward Lanqi. "I... I wouldn't know." Lanqi shook his head and waved his hands dismissively. "I don't know how to paint." He spoke with sudden, resolute finality, as if he had finally steeled his resolve. ... Behind a distant corner, two heads and one cat head poked out. Only in a venue like an exhibition gallery did they dare creep so close to Lanqi and Talia; there were simply too many obstacles to hide behind. When they heard Lanqi claim he didn't know how to paint, they could no longer keep straight faces. "Lanqi doesn't know how to paint?" Aetio wondered if her ears were playing tricks on her. "Since when is Junior Brother Lanqi so shy? He'd rather say he can't paint than admit he has a crush on Tata." Rosalinda wore a face full of schadenfreude. "Meow. If Old Ulysses, the Tenth Progenitor, heard that, he'd probably be angry enough to come back from the dead," Boss Cat said, shaking its head. On the other side, the reporter from the Palieu Broadcasting Company hesitated briefly, but recovered quickly. "Then could you simply share what you personally think the painting depicts?" The reporter held out the microphone once more and retrieved two red raffle tickets from his pocket. "Also, if you participate in our interactive segment, we'll give you two fireworks gift coupons!" For tonight's festival celebration at the Temple of Love, holding a fireworks coupon allowed one to participate in a lucky draw with all sorts of surprise prizes! Lanqi had little interest in such tickets. However, he noticed Talia seemed quite keen on them— probably because the prize pool included limited-edition dining rewards. "The artist was clearly depicting a story: a youth accidentally mistook the figure of a vagrant girl for an impoverished, pitiful old woman. When he looked back after that fleeting glance, he realized she might actually be a young beauty. Only then could he not resist taking a third look at her—yet on that third glance, he happened to miss her face, catching only her enigmatic silhouette and eyes." Lanqi spoke with the palpable reluctance of someone forced to perform for the camera. "Though it differs from the critics' interpretations, this gentleman's take is quite a novel perspective, rich with imaginative romance," the reporter said, smiling toward the camera. "Thank you for participating, and I hope you two have a wonderful time today." He handed the tickets to Lanqi. Lanqi accepted them with thanks, folded them neatly, and handed them to Talia. "Thank you." Talia tucked them into her pocket with satisfaction, taking his hand as she led him away. Once they were well past the reporter and the temporary gallery, Talia asked, sounding rather unsure: "Did you really look at me three times that day?" "Just acting," Lanqi muttered. "..." Talia believed Lanqi had been putting on an act in front of the camera. He had sidestepped her question. There was no way to tell from the truth or falsehood of that answer just how much sincerity had been in his earlier words. "Then if the scene in this painting wasn't what you truly saw..." Talia murmured in confusion, posing a question seemingly meant only for herself, "how did you know what my pigeon looked like?" The dark carrier pigeon in the painting was unmistakably hers down to the last feather. "!" Lanqi whipped his head around immediately. "I was thoroughly drunk at the time, and my memory was a blur, so I can't give you an exact answer," Lanqi said, his right hand suddenly gripping Talia's shoulder as he stared directly into her eyes. "All I remember is sitting before the canvas. What I painted next was simply what was on my mind and in my thoughts. The leading lady was naturally you—using the film roll in my eyes to produce the most beautiful movie of you." Suppressing his fluster, he explained in a rapid rush. "Eh?" Talia instantly felt her cheeks grow warm. With Lanqi holding her hand like this... Gripping her shoulder... Staring straight into his face and those earnest emerald eyes at such close range... She felt at a loss for what to do again. *No, no, no.* *I can't let him fool me.* *He's bound to say something infuriating in the very next breath!* Yet her wavering demeanor only seemed to make Lanqi more nervous. "Exactly how many times I looked at you—I don't have an answer, nor do I care to figure it out. If there is one indisputable truth, it's that you are beautiful." Lanqi responded resolutely. "I-is that so..." Talia's voice rose by several notches. She wriggled free from his grip slightly, then took his hand instead, dragging him forward while walking ahead so he couldn't see her expression. For a moment, Talia nearly walked with matching arms and legs. She realized her fluster had been witnessed by Lanqi from start to finish. *No, everything is still according to plan.* Talia shook her head vigorously. *My reaction just now must have looked just like a 'maiden in love'—that ought to have thoroughly unnerved him...* She shielded her cheek with the back of her left hand and sleeve, averting her eyes as she thought to herself.