I am the old, fiery-faced man from the senior department.

The young novice monk smiled and said, "Illusions arise from life; how could a humble monk possibly understand them!"

Thinking that his life these past few days had been a complete illusion, Du Sheng couldn't help but feel depressed and uncomfortable.

Meng was terrified and at a loss, staring in astonishment at the young novice.

"Esteemed patrons, the fog in the temple has dissipated. Please follow me."

The two, both unsettled, returned to their guest room under the guidance of the young novice monk. Du Sheng fell asleep immediately, while Meng tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep.

Just as dawn broke, Meng pulled Du Sheng up, and the two left without saying goodbye, heading down the mountain and escaping the place.

The story has ended.

■

"The world in the painting... what an interesting story."

After hearing such a wonderful story, Bai Zhou clapped his hands in praise.

Returning to the dream of the Yellow Millet, the aftertaste is endless.

"Truth and falsehood intertwined, falsehood and truth blurred. What a beautiful but empty dream."

I thoroughly enjoyed this melon during the day.

"Brother Bai, please stop making fun of me."

Du Heng sighed with a look of shame on his face, while Meng Li, standing beside him, put his arm around his shoulder and looked at his friend with pity and pleasure.

The person you love turns out to be a two-dimensional character. This guy is so pitiful.

"..."

The world in the painting... Sixty years in the mountains...

The artist's eyes flickered.

It seems that many of her settings overlap with hers.

I'm a little curious.

What kind of being was the author who created that world?

The rain outside the window lessened, and the conversation inside gradually subsided.

Du and Meng sat quietly around the fire, one reminiscing about the past, the other planning for the future.

During the day, he poured a cup of tea for the painter, then took his bamboo box and checked the remaining items.

Seasonings, dry food, clothing, and tableware.

And... ink and paintbrushes.

The world in the painting... huh.

Bai Zhou turned his head to look at the painter.

I'm sure you can do that too, sir.

Moreover, he felt that his husband was more capable than that author because his husband could directly create realistic "paintings".

"..."

Why is that kid staring at her?

The artist finished his last stroke and turned his head to look in the direction of daylight.

Those deep blue eyes were indeed fixed on her without moving.

Some are too eager.

The artist's tail flicked unnaturally, and he looked at the two travelers who had come to stay for the night.

A vulgar person who indulges in illusions...

uninteresting.

Not even as good as that brat... Tsk, this brat has no feeling for his own painting... I really don't know whether to praise him for being stupid or clever.

"Sir, what would you like to eat for breakfast tomorrow?"

Here we go again, thinking about food all day long. Eat, eat, eat! Are you a reincarnated glutton?

The painter tapped Bai Zhou's forehead and pondered, brush in hand.

"Oh? Would you like some tofu pudding?"

The artist paused for a moment at Bai Zhou's question. She lowered her head, and a bowl of tofu pudding had already been drawn on the paper.

"……Um,"

The artist nodded slightly.

"Let's make this one."

Tofu pudding is quite delicious if you don't add chili.

■

The sound of raindrops falling on the windowpane had stopped sometime ago, and the travelers who had stayed overnight were taking a nap, leaning against their companions.

Bai Zhou is preparing ingredients for tomorrow's breakfast.

My husband wants to eat tofu pudding, so he has to soak the soybeans in advance.

I wonder if the artist prefers savory or sweet flavors.

With everything prepared, Bai Zhou checked the fire again to make sure that no one would suffocate due to an open flame indoors before he leaned against the wooden bed with the bamboo box in his arms and drifted off to sleep.

###

'Sniff~'

While the artist was fast asleep, a fragrance entered his dream.

Is it morning yet?

"Well……"

I slept so soundly that my body felt a little weak.

She opened her eyes, and a small, busy figure came into view.

"Sir, breakfast is ready."

"Sir, please wash up."

"Sir, this is savory, this is sweet, and there's also a slightly spicy one."

A new day begins with the constant calling of "Sir."

The artist took the spoon and gently pressed down on the white, tender, and bouncy flesh in the bowl.

She scooped up a spoonful of tofu pudding, enjoying both the sweet and savory varieties, but she tossed aside the bowl with the spicy tofu pudding without even glancing at it.

"Then, sir, I'll eat this bowl."

Bai Zhou smiled and pulled the bowl of tofu pudding in front of him, ready to enjoy it with relish, when the painter tapped him on the forehead.

"gentlemen?"

Bai Zhou looked at the painter with a puzzled expression.

"Eating spicy food in the morning is bad for your health. Go and get another bowl."

Those bright iridescent eyes shimmered with an incomprehensible glimmer.

"Oh~".

"I'll listen to you, sir."

Bai Zhou put down the bowl, got up and ladled another bowl from the pot.

"Sir, those two people have already left."

When he returned, Bai Zhou saw the painter looking around, and he immediately understood what the other was thinking.

"They left us a map to Wu and Yue. Sir, I've heard that the scenery in Wu and Yue is extremely beautiful. Shall we go and see it?"

Is it really for the scenery of Wu and Yue?

The artist slightly curled the corners of his lips.

"You're just craving the perch scales there, aren't you?"

"Hey."

He chuckled during the day and drank the remaining tofu pudding in his bowl in a few gulps.

After breakfast and packing his luggage, Bai Zhou carried his bamboo box and followed behind the painter.

"Sir, what should we do with this house?"

The artist explained his confusion through his actions.

The artist held a strange longsword in her hand, and Bai Zhou had no idea how she had managed to draw it.

Then, the painter simply swung his sword, and the house gradually turned into ink, eventually disappearing into the world.

"Wow! Sir, you're amazing!"

This wondrous "illusionary" magic truly opened Bai Zhou's eyes.

Looking at the cheerful daytime scene, the painter gently shook his head.

Is it really that he's so surprised by such a rudimentary application of his abilities? If he were to witness his true power, wouldn't he faint from excitement?

Sure enough, a kid is a kid, still very young.

"Sir, what would you like to eat for lunch?"

"I just had breakfast, so I don't have any ideas."

"Sir, have you ever been to Wu and Yue?"

"I've been there a few times."