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The skills depicted on the grey wall would undergo a qualitative change as soon as they reached the Second Rank.
Take calligraphy for example, just by looking at the structure of the characters, there is no obvious difference between the early Second Rank and the peak of the First Rank.
But if you look at an entire piece of writing, the characters of the Second Rank will have a special charm to them.
When I first copied scriptures for the Qingfeng Observatory, the later volumes clearly had an ethereal quality. Just by looking at the characters, one would feel that the Daoist Scripture was profound.
Similarly, once the painting ability entered the Second Rank, my mind would be filled with a lot more knowledge.
When painting faces, the general shapes of different faces would come to mind.
When painting eyes, the appearances of phoenix eyes, peach blossom eyes, triangular eyes, watery eyes, and all sorts of eyes would emerge in my thoughts.
As I sketched out the bridge of the nose, information on facial proportions and the distribution of features would flood in.
If someone described themselves well enough, I could paint a likeness of them that was seventy to eighty percent accurate without even seeing them in person.
Not only that, but I also had a thorough understanding of how to mix various pigments.
Insect-proofing, preserving, and even magical pigments with hidden color-changing properties had all become somewhat familiar to me.
After combing my hair, cleaning up my beard, and changing into clean clothes, I took my brushes, inks, paper, inkstones, and the painting that I had named Little Qian under my arm and headed straight for Anle Square.
My rice jar was nearly empty, and if I didn't start earning, I would have nothing to eat!
...
Anle Square, Ruyi Residence.
I found the manager and handed over my last three copper coins. I rented a table, chairs, a bench, and the courtyard space for a day.
Ruyi Residence was one of the top four restaurants in Anle Square.
It was known for its elegant vegetarian dishes, especially those for nourishing wellness and detoxifying.
Aside from the wealthy patrons, many courtesan singers also often ordered meals there.
The Singer's wouldn't show up in public casually, but they always had their own servants running errands.
Since I had no reputation, I wanted to quickly gain exposure. It was essential to let potential customers see my work as soon as possible.
I was targeting these Singer's servants.
As I was arranging the tables and chairs, a familiar figure of an elderly man leisurely walked into Ruyi Residence.
He only just entered when he backed out again, looking me over with a smile that was not quite a smile, "Young man, have you thought it through? Are you really going to sell your paintings here?"
This was the old painter I had encountered last time.
Afterward, I inquired about him. His surname was Yan, and he was quite famous. He had been mingling about in Anle Square his entire life, and many renowned Singers of their time had their portraits done by him.
"Just trying to make a living," I replied calmly.
"Do you know who I am?" asked Master Yan.
"Master Yan, the virtuoso of painting, a guest of honor among the Singers," I responded.
"It seems you still don't know who I am," Master Yan chuckled darkly. "No matter, you will find out soon enough."
With that, he entered Ruyi Residence for his meal in a leisurely manner.
I was completely baffled.
Isn't he just Master Yan? What other special identity could he have?
Seeing the flow of people at Ruyi Residence increasing, I pushed my confusion aside.
Having arranged the table, chairs, and bench neatly, I spread out Little Qian on the table, it was held in place at the corners by the weight of an inkstone, and I sat down behind the table, waiting confidently.
Normally, I would have framed the painting and hung it up to make it more eye-catching.
Master Yan nodded with satisfaction, thinking of the lifelike portrait and snorted coldly.
The painting was good, but it was too good!
So good that he could not replicate it at all.
Such a person joining the guild would be a threat to him.
Having spent half his life mingling with the guild, enjoying power and prestige, he had no desire to be overthrown in his old age.
"Then I can only cripple you."
...
Chen Mu followed Butler Li briskly.
As they walked, to his surprise, they left Anle Square.
"Not in Anle Square? Could it be the Wang family's eldest son hiding his love, keeping a mistress outside?"
The two boarded a carriage and headed towards the city center along the East Market main street.
Sitting in the carriage, Butler Li was taciturn and rested with closed eyes, Chen Mu did not dare to initiate conversation and could only look out the window at the scenery.
As the carriage moved, the buildings on both sides of the street became orderly. The attire of the passersby also visibly improved.
The ground was paved with blue stone, and the houses transitioned from small homes to large estates with deep courtyards.
About a quarter-hour later, they arrived in front of a red-lacquered gate.
Chen Mu recognized the place; it was the Wang family estate, the owners of the house he rented.
Was a Wang family daughter in need of a portrait?
Perhaps she was at marriageable age, and the family prepared a portrait for matchmaking purposes.
Butler Li was most likely looking for Master Yan.
"Hey, am I stealing that old man's business?" Chen Mu thought gleefully.
He followed Butler Li through a side door.
Along the way, the rockery and water features, pavilions and towers made Chen Mu sigh with admiration; truly befitting a wealthy family.
Then, Butler Li led him into the inner courtyard, where seven or eight maids and servants were waiting in the patio.
Some carried washbasins, others had towels, and some held food containers.
As they entered the room, a strong medicinal scent assaulted their nostrils.
The young lady of the house was ill?
"Young Master, the painter has arrived," Butler Li respectfully said to a middle-aged man in his forties.
"Him?" The middle-aged man looked at Chen Mu with puzzlement.
Butler Li took the painting from Chen Mu's hand, unfolded it halfway, and showed it to the middle-aged man for inspection.
"Not bad. Let's go with him," the middle-aged man's eyes brightened, nodding in approval.
"Come with me," Butler Li beckoned Chen Mu and walked into the inner room.
"This is our Master; Young Master Li requests a portrait of him," Butler Li motioned to the bed and whispered to Chen Mu, "The Master is gravely ill; in case of any mishap, it would be good to leave his likeness for posterity to admire."
Chen Mu stared blankly ahead, where an old man with a pale face and barely perceptible breathing lay unconscious on the bed.
"All the finest brushes and ink have been prepared; you may begin," said Butler Li.
Chen Mu: "..."
This... this is asking me to paint a death portrait!
What happened to the beautiful young lady?