Chapter 117: Hello Chang’an
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### Chapter 117: The Outer Room's Father
The moment the word "tiger" spread through the crowd, it stirred a wave of excitement.
It wasn't that women couldn’t paint tigers.
In the art of painting, the combination of form and spirit is essential; form must come first before one can speak of spirit. This means that one must first observe the form—had this young lady Chang ever seen a real tiger?
If she had only seen one in a painting, copied from others' works, or relied solely on imagination… then it was destined that she could only capture the surface and would struggle to depict its essence.
Speaking of form, we must also discuss spirit. The tiger, being the king of beasts, possesses a presence unlike any ordinary creature, which is not something a young lady from a boudoir is skilled at portraying.
Moreover, it wasn't just women—among those present tonight, there were at most a couple of people who could truly paint a tiger.
This wasn’t because they were being harsh on Miss Chang, but because the standard had already been set very high with the previous paintings; if her tiger failed to match that standard, it would indeed be an exercise in futility!
Yet, because of this, the crowd's expectations reached a new height.
Initially, they hadn’t thought highly of this Miss Chang, but she had overturned their perceptions with every brushstroke… who would dare to say she couldn't paint this tiger well?!
“...Is she really painting a tiger?” a young man at the ice basin asked in astonishment.
After receiving a nod from a friend who had just moved closer to take a look, the young man finally abandoned the ice basin and hurriedly squeezed into the crowd.
With the strength he had built up from working on the farm since childhood and a thick skin, he pushed his way to the front, finally able to peek at the writing desk and the paper on it.
His gaze slowly moved across the painting, and with each half inch he shifted, his expression grew more intense.
Until he saw what the young girl was depicting, that intensity transformed into a different kind of silence.
He, like many others in the front, stopped discussing and speculating, even holding his breath to avoid disturbing her.
Time seemed to stand still, and the flickering shadows from the lamps didn't waver; only her brush moved.
The tiger in the painting was taking shape.
It was a giant tiger with a coat of black and brown stripes, its fur glossy, seeming to quiver with each movement.
From its back to its limbs, and then to its tail, it appeared as if real bones were forming beneath the skin, powerful and agile.
This was a fierce tiger.
Or rather, a terrifying one.
It was leaping out of the grass, preparing to pounce, its forelegs displaying sharp claws as its mouth opened wide, the whiskers quivering like fine steel needles.
This tranquil mountain forest was suddenly filled with a sense of peril and murderous intent due to this “suddenly appearing” fierce tiger.
But upon closer inspection, one could see that the danger was not new; there were early signs—
The startled birds in the sky all looked towards a particular spot where the monkeys were.
And that patch of mottled reflection by the water's edge, which had previously eluded clarity, could now be recognized as part of the tiger’s shadow… not a detail out of place!
And the terrifying tiger was pouncing toward the ink-clad young lady.
At the moment the young lady depicted the tiger's sharp teeth, it was as if a tiger's roar echoed through the forest!
As if he truly heard that roar, the man named Tan trembled, trying to steady his mind, instinctively glancing at the hand that held the brush.
That fair, slender wrist seemed delicate; if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he could hardly believe that the fierce tiger poised to leap out of the painting could be created by such a slender young girl's hand…
But the man named Tan quickly noticed another key detail.
Though her hands appeared delicate, the fingers of the young girl, stained with colorful ink, held the brush with remarkable strength.
This strength wasn’t about how hard she pressed when she painted; rather, it was the balance of lightness and heaviness—he observed carefully, and her fingers had not trembled even slightly throughout the process.
It was worth noting that she had been painting for nearly an hour.
Even an ordinary person would find it difficult to stand in front of this writing desk for an entire hour; by now, they would likely be unable to keep their balance.
Moreover, she had been painting all this time, hardly pausing for rest.
Though painting is considered a literary pursuit, it is still a physically demanding task.
Standing for long periods will tire a person out, and the hand holding the brush will inevitably become unstable; with such physical exhaustion, the brushwork would lose its vigor—
This is why many large-scale paintings require days, if not longer, to complete. In addition to the tendency of artists to procrastinate, physical stamina plays a significant role.
Tan instinctively glanced at the girl’s forearm—though it was a bit impolite, he could confidently deduce that beneath the rolled-up sleeves, her arm was slender but must have been quite strong…
Thus, whether it was striking someone or painting, aside from talent, she relied on real skills!
Yet this young lady was not only exceptionally gifted but also worked so hard…
And what was most enviable was her vast network and background!
If she were a man, what future would they have in the imperial examinations next year?
Upon realizing this, Tan felt a fleeting sense of relief, but that brief and shallow relief was soon overshadowed by an unexplainable regret.
Looking again at the fearsome tiger, he had a different feeling.
By now, the tiger was nearly complete, with only its eyes left to be painted.
At this point, there was no uncertainty; the crowd had nearly reached a consensus—once those tiger eyes were painted, they would undoubtedly bring the phrase “adding the finishing touch” to life.
Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, the girl held the ink brush and began to paint the tiger's pupils.
As the brush fell, the onlookers were taken aback.
The girl actually painted one of the tiger's eyes completely black!
— Was this a mistake?
But in the next moment, they saw her quickly fill in the other tiger eye with the same solid black color.
And after that, she made no further embellishments or color adjustments, simply setting the brush down.
As the girl picked up a damp cotton cloth to wipe her hands, someone finally came to their senses and asked, “May I inquire, Miss Chang… what about the tiger’s eyes?”
The entire tiger had been painted vividly and lifelike, yet these eyes… left people puzzled and confused.
Facing the gazes of those who were either perplexed or regretting that she had “ruined” the tiger or even the entire painting, Chang Suining calmly wiped her fingers and said, “What you don’t know is that this tiger has lived in the dark mountain forest for a long time, away from sunlight, so its pupils have gradually become entirely black.”
The crowd fell silent.
Was there such an explanation?
The tiger's pupils could change due to its living environment?
“I know!” Chang Kuo declared confidently, “This type of tiger is called the black-eyed tiger!”
If my daughter says it exists, then it must be true!
The crowd immediately showed expressions of curiosity.
“A black-eyed tiger?”
In this vast world, wonders abound. General Chang, who had seen and learned so much, said it existed, so maybe it truly did!
With no psychological burden, the misinforming Chang Kuo was instead pleased as he stroked his beard—truly worthy of praise.
As the crowd held onto this skeptical belief and looked again at the tiger in the painting, they felt that those black eyes did not detract from it but instead made it appear even more fierce and sinister, with a treacherous murderous intent.
Engrossed in the painting, someone couldn’t help but ask, “Can the girl in the painting… escape this calamity?”
Chang Suining set down the cotton cloth: “The answer is already in the painting; you just need to look closely to find out.”
The crowd was astonished and hurriedly focused their attention back on the painting.
“Did Sister Chang finish painting?” Yao Xia finally snapped back to reality.
Chang Suining nodded, smiling at them: “Thank you for your help.”
When they initially didn’t know how skilled she was, these girls had surrounded her to encourage her, helping to grind ink and prepare the paper.
The girls quickly shook their heads.
They were truly fortunate… to witness the birth of a masterpiece; such an opportunity wasn’t something everyone could have! Once back home, they could say, “Father and Mother, I’ve succeeded! The painting that Miss Chang created today in the Dengtai Tower was prepared by me!”
Having received confirmation that Chang Suining had finished her work, Yao Xia hurriedly bent down to gently blow on the wet ink stains on the painting.
Just then, Chang Sui'an also leaned down to blow on it.
The two raised their heads and exchanged a glance, their eyes locking in a silent standoff.
Yao Xia looked at the young man with a guarded expression—this Chang family elder brother looked strong as an ox; she hoped he wouldn’t accidentally blow the painting paper apart!
Seeing another girl come to blow on the painting, Chang Sui'an felt a bit embarrassed and straightened up.
Watching Yao Xia and the others fan the painting with their hands and blow on it, Wei Miaoqing felt inexplicably annoyed.
How infuriating! They clearly wanted to take the opportunity to absorb some of that artistic aura!
Chang Suining looked up at everyone: “My humble work is complete; I would appreciate your feedback.”
Upon hearing this, some shook their heads, feeling inadequate, while others chuckled, knowing that everything was self-evident.
Having missed the chance to blow on the painting, Chang Sui'an seized the moment to take one end of the painting, glancing at Yao Xia with a righteous expression—being tall, he was the perfect person to showcase his sister’s artwork to everyone!
In the next moment, the other end of the painting was also picked up by someone.
Chang Sui'an looked over: “?”
Was there something the Minister Yao wanted?
Seeing her uncle taking hold of the painting with a serious expression, Yao Xia was equally surprised.
Her uncle really didn’t shy away from any disdain!
However, since Chang Suining didn’t seem to mind…
She decided to let her uncle play the part of the rumored outside father.
After all, Miss Chang’s legitimate father was General Chang, who had the surname, and he had three concubines who could be considered equivalent to his proper wives, so her uncle naturally appeared to be just a nameless outside father in the eyes of others.
This was a realization Yao Xia and her brother Yao Gui had secretly concluded recently.
The painting was held up on either side by Chang Sui'an and Yao Yi, displayed before the crowd.
Initially, it lay flat on the writing desk, and due to the varying positions of the onlookers, their views were limited. But now, as it was unfolded like this, the sense of shock only intensified.
And from this overall perspective, one could better appreciate its exquisite details.
The entire painting's composition harmonized distance and closeness, richness and lightness, density and sparsity, dryness and wetness, objects and scenery—every element was exquisite.
These incredibly intricate details merged together, creating an orderly world that made one feel as if they were right inside it, witnessing the thrilling moment of the ferocious tiger pouncing.
Above the forest, the wisps of clouds seemed as if they would float right out of the painting in the next instant.
“This isn’t painting at all—”
A young girl’s voice broke the silence.
Everyone instinctively turned to look.
Wei Miaoqing trembled with disbelief: “It’s more like magic!”
Chang Suining: “…”
It was hard not to suspect that this young lady was being paid to help set the mood.
Coincidentally, the young lady’s mother nodded in agreement: “Indeed, it is magic without error…”
Just then, the usually silent Wei Shuyi spoke, his tone filled with emotion: “Today, I have witnessed a divine being performing magic; it truly is a stroke of luck in three lifetimes.”
“It’s indistinguishable from magic… this painting is truly heaven-sent!” echoed the young man named Tan.
As more and more people joined in this absurd agreement, Chang Suining couldn’t help but take a serious look at the painting. After a moment, she gently nodded—yes… it did have some resemblance to that aspect.
With Yao Yi and Chang Sui'an holding the painting up, the onlookers felt they couldn’t just keep the best view to themselves, so they automatically stepped aside, creating a path in the middle.
Standing outside the crowd, Cui Jing suddenly found his view opening up; he looked over just in time to see the girl nodding to herself as she gazed at the painting.
Cui Jing found it somewhat amusing, though not in a mocking way.
It seemed he smiled just a bit.
He then turned his attention to the painting that had caused such a stir.
Although he was a martial general, the roots of the Cui family were undeniably noble—
He could easily discern the quality of a painting, and moreover, it was evident even without keen eyesight that this was indeed an excellent piece.
Not far away, as she looked at the painting, Ming Luo slowly stood up.
With her light veil obscuring her face, no one could see her expression.
But she didn’t need to lift the veil to clearly see the true form of that painting.
Just now, as she listened to the countless praises around her, she had considered a crucial question…
She knew that Chang Suining had a distinct ability that set her apart from others—she was skilled at imitating the handwriting of others, specifically, the handwriting of Princess Chongyue.
Back at the Dayun Temple, Chang Suining had copied Buddhist scriptures in two different styles of writing, and it was nearly impossible to tell they were by the same person.
If the art of calligraphy could be so masterfully imitated, could painting be the same?
This was an objective fact, not something she had made up.
So, should she raise this question based on factual evidence?
She hesitated.
But now she realized that her hesitation was meaningless.
The two pieces of calligraphy she had seen in the Dayun Temple, while completely different in style, could be compared to coarse sand and fine stones—their differences were not that significant.
However, the gap between these two paintings… seemed to be a chasm that could not be crossed.
There was simply no need for comparison.
The impact of this painting of the tiger in the forest had already been immense.
This shock was enough to silence any voices of doubt.
At this moment, anyone who questioned whether these two paintings were by the same hand would be seen as a joke, regardless of their reasoning.
Naturally, she would not do something so foolish that would turn her into a laughingstock.
Ming Luo looked again at the painting, slowly pressing her lips together.
Such a flamboyant person could possess such extraordinary painting skills, and she had kept it hidden until today…
Her gaze shifted from the painting to Chang Suining.
Chang Suining, meanwhile, was looking at Madame Jie.
It was Madame Jie who had suggested that she paint live for comparison, so out of courtesy, she felt it necessary to ask—
“Madame Jie, could you please examine and discern whether these two paintings are by the same hand?”
At these words, the surroundings fell into a deeper silence.
Many people turned to look at Madame Jie.
Master Zhu, too, was jolted awake from his reverie by his old servant.
For the entire hour, Madame Jie had remained silent, now meeting the calm gaze of the girl before her.
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