Yuan Ming carefully looked at the person in front of him and recognized him.

The leader Fu, named Fu Qing, was one of his father’s personal guards, not only holding a military position, but also a cultivator.

As for the people behind him, Yuan Ming didn’t recognize any of them, all of them were strangers.

But it wasn’t hard to guess that General Yuan, in order to prevent leaks from those around him, had selected Fu Qing as a trusted aide for this mission, and replaced the others with new people.

“Brother Fu,” Yuan Ming chuckled and went forward to help Fu Qing up.

“Young Master, I finally found you,” Fu Qing said, his eyes turning red.

“I didn’t expect father to send you to meet me. It must have been hard coming all the way here,” Yuan Ming said.

“As long as I can find Young Master, I would die without regret,” Fu Qing said, clasping his hands together.

At this time, Lord Ba Yin stepped forward and asked, “Do you know each other?”

“This is the person we asked the Lord to help find: the young master of our general’s mansion,” Fu Qing said.

“Oh… may the gods bless you, allowing you to reunite. This is the best arrangement,” Ba Yin said with a drawn-out tone.

After that, he called over a burly man who had been beaten half to death, revived him with a medicinal soup, and asked about the cause and effect.

“In your words, this is like a family not recognizing each other after a big change. Young Master Yuan, please don’t blame our rudeness,” Ba Yin quickly changed to a warm and enthusiastic smile.

“No problem. I heard that Lord Ba Yin is looking for a painter. I happen to have some skill in painting. If you don’t mind, I can give it a try,” Yuan Ming said, looking at him and finding that he was also a Qi Refining cultivator, and smiled.

“Young Master Yuan is a distinguished guest, how can we trouble a distinguished guest? Come, the banquet has just begun. Young Master Yuan and Leader Fu, please take a seat together,” Ba Yin said, leading Yuan Ming and the others back to the banquet hall.

After taking their seats, the banquet began.

After a few rounds of toasting, Lord Ba Yin spoke of being deceived, still somewhat angry.

That scoundrel Wu Liao was so eloquent that he made everyone believe he was a court painter, a direct descendant of the Wu family, and after two days of eating and drinking at the mansion, he stole some gold and silver, and swaggered out of the Lord’s mansion under the guise of going out to find inspiration.

It was his “open and honest” behavior that deceived everyone, causing them to relax their guard, and by the time they realized it, the scoundrel was nowhere to be found.

“Lord Ba Yin, the main family of the Ming En Tower is also puzzled by him. Please don’t blame him again. I am also an old acquaintance with him, and I came here to help him understand the situation. I wonder what Lord Ba Yin wants to paint?” Yuan Ming asked.

At this, Ba Yin hesitated for a moment.

“Lord Ba Yin, I don’t hide it from you, our young master is a young genius of Great Jin, proficient in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. If you have such a need, it’s just right to let our young master show his skills,” Fu Qing also added.

Yuan Ming nodded with a smile.

“In that case, I’ll trouble Young Master Yuan,” Ba Yin said with a smile.

After the meal, Ba Yin led Yuan Ming and Fu Qing all the way to the inner courtyard of the Lord’s mansion, until they came to a house with a large bronze lock on the door.

“This is our family’s shrine, similar to your ancestral hall in the Central Plains, but we don’t have as many rules, and the things inside are more chaotic,” Ba Yin explained as he opened the door.

The three of them walked into the room, and Yuan Ming realized why Lord Ba Yin had said that the things inside were more chaotic.

It turned out that the shrine was divided into two rooms, with three display racks outside, holding all kinds of miscellaneous items, including exquisitely crafted bronze and porcelain, some bows, arrows, and knives, as well as some ancient books.

“These are the favorite items of our ancestors. Everyone who enters the shrine will leave a personal item here, not necessarily something valuable, but mostly something they like. There are also some autobiographies of our ancestors stored here,” Ba Yin explained with a smile.

The three entered the inner hall, where a large altar was placed, with the ancestral tablets of the Ba Yin family’s ancestors on it, and a large ancient painting hung on the wall behind the altar.

On the ancient painting, there was a tall man dressed in the costume of the Kasite tribe, with a completely different appearance and temperament from Ba Yin. His phoenix eyes were sharp and full of heroic spirit.

However, the ancient painting was old and had been exposed to incense for a long time, with the paper turning yellow and covered with fine cracks, despite being repeatedly mounted, it still showed signs of damage.

“Young Master Yuan, can you restore this painting?” Ba Yin asked.

Yuan Ming didn’t answer, remaining silent for a while.

At this moment, when he looked at the ancient painting, what he saw was completely different from what others saw, feeling a thin layer of mist on the ancient painting, making it difficult to see clearly.

This kind of misty thing was not visible to the naked eye, but was perceived by his spiritual sense, a special and indescribable mental power.

“Lord Ba Yin, how long has this portrait been enshrined here?” Yuan Ming asked.

“I haven’t counted, but it’s been at least three or four hundred years,” Ba Yin said.

“Is it worshipped here every day?” Yuan Ming asked again.”It’s not a daily occurrence, but a minor ritual on the first and fifteenth of each month, and a major ritual during the Lantern Festival and the Ghost Festival each year. The minor ritual is nothing much, but the major ritual requires the presence of all family members to worship and pray for blessings together,” Ba Yin explained, though he didn’t understand why Yuan Ming was asking these questions.

“No wonder this painting, despite its signs of wear, still retains the ancestral spirit without any loss. I dare not claim to replicate it with perfect accuracy, but preserving seven or eight parts out of ten should not be difficult,” Yuan Ming said, his speculation confirmed.

“That would be most fortunate; I dare not ask for too much,” Ba Yin replied with joy upon hearing this.

Previously, he had sought several painters from the Southern Border, but none dared to make such a bold claim.

“I will need seven days to carefully observe and capture the essence of the portrait. It would be best if I could remain undisturbed, without leaving the room. Is that possible?” Yuan Ming inquired.

“Of course, I will have the servants bring over a bed and a desk shortly,” Ba Yin responded promptly.

After Ba Yin left to make arrangements, only Yuan Ming and Fu Qing remained in the room.

“Young Master, you have suffered,” Fu Qing finally said.

“It’s nothing serious. Misfortune and blessing go hand in hand, leading to my current state,” Yuan Ming replied with a smile.

“The General sent me to assist you as soon as he learned you were here. Delay could lead to complications; we really should return as soon as possible,” Fu Qing said with slight hesitation.

“No need to worry, I have my plans,” Yuan Ming shook his head, offering no further explanation.

Fu Qing hesitated, wanting to say more.

“Did Father have any message for me?” Yuan Ming asked.

“The General only said that if we found you, we are to protect you with our lives. He didn’t have any specific messages for me to convey,” Fu Qing replied.

“That’s Father’s style,” Yuan Ming said with a smile.

Soon after, the servants from the lord’s mansion brought over a small bed and a writing desk.

Later, Ba Yin himself delivered the finest brushes, ink, paper, and inkstone from the Central Plains.

Once everyone had left, Yuan Ming closed the door and first tidied up the accumulated incense ash in the censer on the altar.

Then he approached the desk, looked at the thick stack of rice paper, and with fingers like a knife, swiftly cut through it, neatly dividing the sheets.

Looking at the cut rice paper, Yuan Ming smiled knowingly. After grinding the ink himself, he picked up the brush and began to draw on the paper.

With a few simple strokes, he depicted a large ship sailing through the waves, with a young man on the bow, his face filled with anger, looking back.

Behind him, a group of fierce bandits, armed with swords, axes, and bows, seemed intent on plundering him.

After finishing one drawing, Yuan Ming set it aside to let the ink dry, then immediately began the second.

The second depicted the young man being shot with arrows and falling into the water, while his pursuers celebrated wildly with raised swords.

The third showed the young man lying on the riverbank, being robbed by a corpse picker, stripped of his clothes.

Yuan Ming’s painting speed was incredibly fast, his fine brushwork smooth and effortless, as if divinely assisted. Without much thought, as if he had a clear plan in mind, he produced dozens of line drawings in less than half a day.

The shelves in the offering hall were almost completely filled with his illustrations.

Without pause, Yuan Ming then began to write swiftly and meticulously in small, fragrant script, pleasing to the eye.

“The tale tells of the young master of the Sheng family from Jiangnan, who traveled to the northern regions of the Southern Border…

Just like his painting, Yuan Ming’s writing of the already well-conceived “Tales of Young Master Sheng’s Southern Journey” was equally divine. His thoughts flowed like a fountain, and his writing blossomed with life.

He refined and adapted his experiences in the Southern Border, blending the local customs of the northern regions into his writing, making it vivid and as if the reader had experienced it themselves.

After just three days, Yuan Ming completed the manuscript and illustrations, reviewed them thoroughly, arranged them neatly, and put them away.

Only then did he truly begin to replicate the portrait of Ba Yin’s ancestor.

As he started to paint, a few strokes in, Yuan Ming’s brush hesitated, and he found himself unable to continue.

It wasn’t that there was a problem with his painting skills, but rather that something felt off.

He could replicate the form of the painting but not its spirit, the subtle essence he had previously noticed that was difficult to discern with the naked eye.

Even if he forced himself to paint, it would lack vitality and spirit.

Others might not notice, but he felt it was not right. He had previously boasted that he could capture seven or eight parts of the essence, but now it seemed that achieving three or four parts would be quite good.

After several failed attempts, Yuan Ming did not persist. He stood up to observe for a moment before heading to the outer hall.

Ba Yin had mentioned that the biographies of his ancestors were stored here, and Yuan Ming thought that reading about that particular ancestor might help with his painting.

After searching the shelves, he indeed found a book at the very bottom.

The book was stored in a square sandalwood box, with camphor inside to prevent insects, so it was very well-preserved. Aside from some yellowing of the pages, there were no signs of insect damage or decay.

Yuan Ming immediately took it out and began to read.

Only then did he discover that Ba Yin’s ancestor was also a cultivator, and moreover, a cultivator who specialized in the study of talismans and seals.