Ling Yao's body gradually recovered. She held a small ball of flame between her fingers, watching it quietly. The flame was close to cyan, indicating her energy was still very weak.
Yu Liu had been treating her like a fragile piece of porcelain lately. Seeing her wield divine power, Yu Liu became anxious again.
"Princess, would you like to drink some more blood? It will help you recover faster."
Ling Yao never knew that Xiao Shan had secretly kept a jar of blood for her. So much of it; she didn't know how he had stored it.
Sharing the same bed every night, she hadn't even noticed any wounds on him.
This man was always like this, doing things thoroughly without a word.
Without this blood, she might not have survived this time. The feeling of her heart hardening was too terrifying; she never wanted to experience it again.
"No, I'll save it for emergencies."
That was blood he had squeezed from his own body. How could she use it so carelessly? If it ran out, knowing his temperament, he would surely fill it up again.
He had always been like this. Back in the village, without servants, he did everything himself. Before going hunting, he would habitually check everything in the house.
The rice jar would be filled, the oil flask topped up, and even her clothes would be washed. Only when he felt she could manage for several days without him would he leave with peace of mind.
And yet, he had intended to return the same day or stay in the mountains for at most one night.
Xiao Shan...
The warmth in her chest permeated her being, nourishing her body.
"I miss him so much!"
She missed him so much that she tossed and turned at night, only able to sleep while holding his clothes.
Before sleeping, she would secretly lift a corner of the quilt, imagining he would suddenly return and crawl into bed with her.
She missed him so much that she read his letter over and over, imagining his eyes and expression as he wrote it.
Yu Liu suddenly revealed a sly smile. She walked quickly to the chest, reached behind it with her hand, and pulled out a scroll.
"The General said that if the Princess openly said she missed him, I should take this out."
"What is this?"
It looked like a painting.
"This servant doesn't know. It came with the last letter. The message was conveyed by the soldier who delivered it. This servant, this servant dared not disobey."
This Xiao Shan, playing such games. But in her extreme longing, it did bring some comfort.
It was indeed a painting.
Xiao Shan stood holding a long spear, clad in armor, his face resolute, his tiger eyes piercing, exuding an imposing aura, standing between heaven and earth.
Behind him stretched rolling green mountains, and at his feet, a stone tablet was inscribed: Changyun Mountain.
Changyun Mountain was the Great Jing's barrier, and beyond it lay Qirong.
He was like a fierce lion descending from the heavens, with all beasts subdued, and no wolves, jackals, tigers, or leopards daring to invade.
He was also like a guardian deity at the gate, firmly blocking the entrance, protecting the millions of common people of the Great Jing.
Oh, Xiao Shan, her man.
How proud he made her.
Ling Yao was filled with emotion, her gaze full of adoration.
Yu Liu, blushing, quietly left the room. The Princess's expression was too captivating; Yu Liu's heart pounded just watching her. If the General were here, he would probably start clearing the room.
The General had been gone for three months, and the Princess was almost driven mad with longing.
She didn't know who had kidnapped the Princess. After returning, the Princess had been silent for two days, appearing quite sad. Moreover, the silver hairpin she wore on her head daily was missing. Yu Liu dared not ask.
The Princess had also ordered that nothing be revealed to the General.
Fortunately, nothing untoward had happened to the Princess. This matter was now closed.
The Emperor had sent someone, stating that Wen Daozi was touring the capital and had been invited into the palace to paint portraits for the royal family.
Wen Daozi had been famous for twenty years, the most renowned painter in the Jing Kingdom. However, he had always traveled extensively, visiting mountains and rivers. The last time he came was to paint the late Emperor's portrait; ten years had passed in the blink of an eye.
What a coincidence.
Ling Yao's eyes lit up. She changed into beautiful clothes and dressed herself meticulously.
"Bring Bei Yue and Bei Shang as well."
She also wanted to send a portrait to her guardian deity at the gate, lest he feel lonely by himself.
Yu Liu immediately understood her meaning. The two little darlings could already sit. The weather was warm, and the wet nurses often brought them out to bask in the sun. They were as delicate as carved jade, like the Princess, as beautiful as celestial children.
If the General saw them, he would be reluctant to look away.
Ling Xi had also dressed and ran over, taking Bei Shang from the wet nurse's arms.
"I want to paint a few more with the two little darlings in a while."
When they arrived at the Imperial Garden, Wen Daozi was all prepared. He looked much more weathered than ten years ago.
"Master, have you been well these past few years?"
Ten years ago, Wen Daozi had left behind many paintings. He traveled widely, his styles varied, and each work held profound meaning. In her father's words, they were works created with soul.
The paintings she had copied back then were Wen Daozi's. In a way, he was her half-master.
However, he did not know her true identity.
When he painted for her back then, he had entered the Fengque Tower while masked.
"Greetings, Princess." Wen Daozi bowed respectfully, his heart filled with excitement.
The person before him was the divine maiden of the Great Jing. He had traveled half his life, witnessed the suffering of the world, and felt increasingly powerless, his inner sorrow threatening to engulf him.
In recent years, he had produced very few works. It wasn't that he couldn't paint, but that he dared not.
How could he paint scenes of widespread famine, wild dogs fighting over scraps, the annihilation of humanity, and cannibalism?
Scenes of hell on earth.
Sometimes, he felt himself drying up, his brush hand beginning to tremble.
Just as he was about to abandon his brush, he heard of the divine maiden.
This time, he had come to the capital specifically for her.
Everyone said that the Great Jing had produced a divine maiden, had a wise ruler who reduced harsh taxes, focused on recuperation, vigorously promoted talent, built canals and roads, and prevented epidemics.
Therefore, he had come, seeking hope.
"Master, you are too kind. Ten years ago, my father said that you were a man of virtue and talent. Your paintings were worth a thousand pieces of gold, yet you never sold them for profit. You are a true master, and you left many precious paintings for me to learn from. I should also call you: Teacher."
It was a pity that those paintings were destroyed by the barbarian thieves.
"This humble subject dares not, dares not." Wen Daozi was surprised. When he came to the palace back then, the late Emperor had indeed inquired about his paintings. The late Emperor was a benevolent man, and he had offered all the paintings he had, willingly.
It turned out that the late Emperor had wanted them for the divine maiden?
Wen Daozi finally dared to look up, his hands trembling.
At that glance, he recognized her.
Wasn't this that mysterious young girl?
Except for having grown up, her appearance hadn't changed at all. She was still breathtakingly beautiful, but now, her eyes shone with brilliance, and a natural nobility emanated from her, a born composure and grace emanating from her very core.
Was this the divine maiden?
Ling Yao smiled softly, "Master, are you surprised to see an old acquaintance?"
Wen Daozi's wrinkled face froze. He hastily said, "I dare not. So it was you, this humble subject, this humble subject..."
He had been young then, and also possessed a certain arrogance. He didn't know the young girl's identity, and because he was led in while masked, he was somewhat angered.
He felt that no matter how benevolent the emperor was, he was not like ordinary people who were sincere and cautious in everything, which was displeasing.
Therefore, while painting, even though the young girl was very endearing, he maintained a stern expression throughout and occasionally told her not to get distracted, to hold her posture, and to keep her gaze steady.
Although this was for a better portrait, he admitted his tone was a bit harsh.
But the young girl had been very obedient and hadn't thrown a tantrum, sitting until the end, too tired to sit still.
If only he had known, if only he had known she was the divine maiden, he...