The major life event of my elder brother, the difficult problem hanging over our entire family, was finally resolved. Although the process was somewhat bumpy, the ending was quite satisfactory. After the competition, my brother sent Miao Yin back to the Cao residence, prepared a big feast at home, and brought a jar of bamboo leaf green wine. After drinking two cups, he collapsed on the table, eyes closed, giggling foolishly.
Fifteen days after the mechanical arts competition, An Jin’s horseback hunting competition was to take place. An Jin seemed uninterested in this competition, making no preparations, instead being busier with official duties than ever before.
With the eye illness added to his leg injury, my father-in-law could no longer manage the bookstore’s business, and could only entrust it to me. As a result, the time An Jin and I spent chatting and being together became even less, and even our daily bed routine was neglected for some time, making me feel somewhat melancholic.
Being “taken care of” was an activity that sometimes felt excessive, but felt missed when absent. I felt conflicted, but seeing An Jin’s exhaustion upon returning home each day, I didn’t want to complain, and instead diverted my attention by painting in the bookstore when idle. However, erotic paintings were different from beauty paintings, and one couldn’t use existing beauties without permission. One could only rely on imagination, which seemed quite challenging. When I mentioned this idea to Chen Hua Ou, he was somewhat shocked but thought it was indeed a promising path, secretly lending me a pile of currently popular erotic painting albums for reference.
With few businesses in the bookstore, I secretly took the erotic painting albums Chen Hua Ou lent me, hiding them under the cover of “Ritual and Music” to study intensely. The more I looked, the more I felt the erotic painting market had unlimited potential. Even these crudely drawn, stiff, aesthetically unpleasing erotic paintings could become popular in Yanfeng, showing that the people of Yanfeng were so desperate for such art that they would accept anything. If I were to paint, I would definitely stand out, create a new school of erotic art, and take my painting career to a new height.
Until a slender, elegant hand gently knocked on the rosewood table in front of me, pulling me back from my thoughts.
