I became an immortal in the Tang Dynasty

Chapter 158 The Fairy in the Painting Departs Gracefully (+9)

Chen Hong was startled.

His eyes were fixed on the painting, his heart pounding. After a couple of glances, he was suddenly terrified and immediately turned his head to look outside the tent, shouting loudly.

"Yu Qing, Yu Qing! Come in!"

He called out twice, but there was no response from outside.

It was as if the entire space inside the tent had become mysterious and difficult for outsiders to perceive.

You can feel a breeze around you.

This is a tent. Even if there is wind, it's only outside the tent. How could there be wind inside?

Chen Hong called for his servants even louder, but they never came in, as if they couldn't hear him. Chen Hong could only hear his own heartbeat growing louder and louder.

Knock knock. Knock knock.

The sound rang out one after another.

A voice suddenly rang in my ears.

The tone was relaxed.

"I see, there's a painting here too."

I sensed the presence of energy just now.

Jiang She looked around and could sense that there were tens of thousands of people nearby. This was a tent, and in front of him was a middle-aged man wearing a white undergarment, his clothes crumpled, who had just crawled out of bed, looking panicked and terrified.

There is a calligraphy brush next to me.

In front of me is a draft of a painting.

Jiang She picked up the long scroll and looked at it with great interest.

Above are the royal procession's ceremonial guards, along with birds and beasts, all depicted as auspicious creatures. Around them, according to the Zhou rites, are arranged people from different countries: the Eastern Yi, Western Rong, Southern Man, and Northern Di. Against the backdrop of mountains and rivers, the emperor, accompanied by his officials, performs the Fengshan ceremony at Mount Tai.

There were still patterns of clouds on the horizon, with a simple figure outlined on them.

A touch of blue ink.

Familiar with brushwork.

Jiang She put down the painting, looked at the trembling middle-aged man, and asked:

"What's your name?"

"I am Chen Hong, a native of Kuaiji, and I have been ordered to paint for the Emperor." Chen Hong's voice trembled slightly, and he spoke haltingly.

A tremendous storm surged within him.

After the painting was finished, it actually attracted the gods!
He had previously read many books about immortals, including the story of the Queen Mother of the West bestowing the secret of immortality upon Emperor Wu of Han. In order to paint immortals, he also read Liu Xiang's "Biographies of Immortals".

Of course, he had dreamed of one day meeting immortals, being taught Taoist magic, and attaining immortality.

But now that such a person was actually standing in front of him, Chen Hong felt afraid.

They really summoned the immortals!
What Wei Wutian said was actually true... Chen Hong decided that if he survived tonight, he must apologize to Wei Wutian properly tomorrow.

May the Three Pure Ones be above, and may Buddha protect us.

I wonder what kind of magic this deity possesses, whether he is happy or angry, and what his temperament is like. Perhaps he is the immortal who flies on the clouds atop Mount Tai...

Chen Hong's mind was filled with a jumble of thoughts.

I was really scared.

Hearing the immortal chuckle, seemingly unconcerned, he asked him again:

Who painted this picture?

Chen Hong said, trembling.

"It's Wu Daozi."

He quickly added a couple more words to defend Wu Daozi and himself: "We were ordered to paint for His Majesty. This is just a draft, not the final painting. We did not mean to offend Your Majesty. Please forgive us, Immortal..."

Jiang She examined it closely.

"Were the eyes added later?"

Chen Hong dared not lie and spoke in a low voice.

"It's at the bottom."

He was filled with regret. If he had known this would happen, he should have listened to Wei Wutian and not interfered. If he didn't like something, he shouldn't have added those two strokes.

It won't die if it lacks the finishing touch.

Chen Hong awaited the immortal's words of punishment.

After waiting for a while, there was still no sound.

He was feeling uneasy.

Outside, the servants' urging could be heard again.

"My lord, aren't you asleep yet? It's almost midnight!"

Suddenly, Chen Hong felt the servant's urging voice was so comforting. His heart settled back into his stomach, and he slowly exhaled.

He knew the immortal had left.

No one was held accountable for his mistake.

Chen Hong quickly replied, "I'll go to sleep now!"

After saying that, he didn't dare to look at it any longer, let alone touch the painting. Chen Hong hurriedly blew out the oil lamp, rolled up his quilt, and carefully went to sleep.

I was on edge all night.

It wasn't until almost dawn that I gradually relaxed and fell asleep.

When he woke up the next day, the servants had already tidied up the table and packed his belongings, quickly handing the young master some freshly baked sesame cakes. He noticed the dark circles under Chen Hong's eyes.

The servant asked in surprise, "Didn't you go to bed before midnight, young master? Why are you acting like a thief? Didn't you sleep well?"

Chen Hong woke up, still somewhat dazed.

He murmured, "I saw a deity last night."

The servant touched Chen Hong's forehead, puzzled: "Is the young master ill? Or did you dream about it last night?"

Chen Hong had things on his mind but couldn't express them.

He glanced around but didn't see the painting, then asked the servant:
"What about Wu Daozi's painting?"

"I've put it away."

The servant touched his young master's forehead; it was warm, but didn't seem to have a fever. He ignored his young master's babbling and urged him again:

"Young master, quickly eat something to fill your stomach, have a couple of bites of the cake, we'll be setting off soon, we can rest at dusk and then look at the painting."

It's getting late.

Chen Hong took two bites of the sesame cake, choked so badly his eyes rolled back. He rode on his horse, feeling the cold wind, and spent the day like a lost soul.

It was the hour of Wei (1-3 PM).

Only after the group stopped did he hurriedly find the other two.

Wei Wutian frowned upon hearing this.

"Fairy?"

Chen Hong had already apologized for the eye-dotting incident, and the gods hadn't punished him, so his worries lessened considerably. What began to stir again was a longing for the immortals and gods.

"After I applied the eyeshadow, I suddenly saw the eyes move, and then I felt a breeze blowing through the tent."

Chen Hong recalled.

"Afterwards, someone sighed and picked up Michiko's painting to look at it for a while."

Wu Daozi hurriedly asked.

"What did that person say?"

Chen Hong gave him a strange look.

Whether it was Chen Hong's imagination or not, Wu Daozi, upon hearing this, did not express surprise and doubt like Wei Wutian, but instead inquired about the details.

But that doesn't matter.

Chen Hong didn't think much of it and continued, "The man asked me my name, and I said I was Chen Hong, from Kuaiji. He then asked me who painted this picture, and I told him the name Daozi."

"I added that this painting, as the decree of the sage, was an apology to the gods..."

Wu Daozi asked.

"What did the deity say?"

Chen Hong felt somewhat lost and disappointed.

Last night's encounter with the immortals was too miraculous and fleeting.

Looking back now, the fact that he kept calling out the servant's name but received no response might mean that the traces of immortals were difficult for mortals to see.

He sighed.

"The deity did not speak. I held my breath and waited for the deity's instruction, but after a while, I received nothing. I only heard the servants urging me on."

After listening, the two remained silent for a while.

Looking at the dark circles under Chen Hong's eyes, you could tell that he hadn't slept well and didn't seem to be lying.

Wei Wutian stroked his beard and muttered:
"They actually summoned the gods..."

After the three of them calmed down for a while, Wu Daozi asked if there was anything about the painting from last night that needed to be modified. Chen Hong found the painting and spread it out on the table.

My gaze unconsciously drifted to the spot where the light had been applied last night.

He was stunned.

The cloud patterns still surge and move, so lifelike that one can almost hear the breath of the wind in the heavens and earth.

But the swaying figure above the clouds was nowhere to be seen.

Wu Daozi talked for a while about the overall concept of the painting, but there were still many parts he wasn't sure were appropriate. After talking for a long time, there was no reply.

He raised his head.

"Why hasn't Brother Chen said anything?"

Chen Hong raised his hand, his fingers trembling slightly, and pointed to a spot.

"Look."

Wu Daozi and Wei Wutian followed the direction of the finger and leaned over to look—Wu Daozi had previously painted immortals with flowing sleeves, and Chen Hong had added the finishing touches by lighting the lamp last night.

They all disappeared at that moment.

Cloud patterns hang in the sky, and the wind stirs the flowing waves.

“No, no more…”

Wei Wutian gripped Wu Daozi's sleeve tightly.

"Daozi, the immortal you drew yesterday is gone!"

The three were horrified.

The story of the immortal in the painting asking the painter a question on a snowy night, then gracefully departing after adding the finishing touch to his eyes, also spread throughout the entire group.

【Ask for monthly ticket】

(End of this chapter)