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

"gentlemen!"

The voice of daylight rang out again, but this time, it carried an aura that made even painters shrink back.

Despite being so small, how come...

Seemingly realizing that his tone was off, the little devil suddenly softened and raised his hand to support her.

“You need to rest if you’re tired. Please sit here and rest for a while, and I’ll go get you some water.”

"..."

Sitting on a straw mat, holding a bamboo tube filled with water, the painter fell into deep thought as he reflected on his earlier appearance.

"gentlemen."

The sounds of daylight startled the painter awake.

She raised her head slightly and saw Bai Zhou, who was holding up a piece of paper with a happy expression.

"What...is this?"

The artist took it and looked at it.

There were many words written on that piece of paper.

It's a font that the artist is familiar with... The person who wrote it was teaching quite diligently.

But after taking a few more glances, the artist's mood soured.

The paper clearly and neatly outlined the entire day's schedule.

"Sir, this is a schedule I've tailored just for you. In just one or two months, you'll be fully recovered!"

One or two months?

The artist looked at this schedule.

There are indeed regulations regarding when to exercise, when to eat, and when to rest.

But her condition won't improve in just a month or two.

The brat is just wasting his time.

Moreover, does she, a renowned painter from Yan Kingdom, need a mere brat who hasn't even grown up yet, to teach her how to do things?

"No."

The great painter immediately threw the watch back into Bai Zhou's arms.

"I don't need that kind of thing."

"what?"

Bai Zhou looked at his planned schedule and then looked at the artist with a puzzled expression.

"Sir, is the rest period too short? How about increasing it from four hours to six hours? Any longer and there won't be any time for exercise."

"Why bother with that pointless fitness routine?"

The artist frowned as he looked at him.

"Isn't painting a form of exercise for me?"

"..."

"gentlemen……"

Before he could say anything more, the painter interrupted him.

"Go and put the painting away, I'm tired."

"Yes, sir."

■

"Among the twelve immortals, there was one named the Immortal of the Mortal World. He once wielded a three-foot-long sword and, with a single stroke, brought down the entire band of wicked mountain bandits, saving the young lady of the Du family. To repay this life-saving grace, the young lady of the Du family was willing to sacrifice herself..."

"Oh? Sir, Mr. Magic Pen is still telling stories."

On their way back, the two passed by the storytelling place again. Although it was past noon, there were still quite a few people gathered there for the story.

"...Tsk."

The artist looked at the stage with great displeasure.

This guy is using other people's embarrassing pasts as talking points again.

"Walk."

She didn't want to see that guy again.

"Hey, don't be in such a hurry to leave. Is the story not interesting enough, or are you tired of standing because there are no seats?"

The white-robed artist's skillful brush appeared before the two once again.

"Ugh?"

Bai Zhou looked at the magic pen with a puzzled expression, then looked at the stage with surprise.

"Mr. Master of the Magic Pen, this..."

Why is there a brilliant idea offstage and another brilliant idea onstage?

"What's so surprising? It's just a re-enactment of recorded events."

Miaobi took a storybook from the small bag at her waist and waved it in front of Bai Zhou.

By daylight, the book was titled "The Record of the Strange Flames," authored by Miaobi.

"I see. I've even read your book."

Bai Zhou's words made Miao Bi raise an eyebrow, a slight smile appearing on her lips.

"Oh, then, shall I test you?"

Although it was phrased as an inquiry, Miaobi didn't give Baizhou time to answer before asking her own question.

"How is the protagonist described in the story I wrote in Chapter 10 of the first volume of this book?"

"Ah, I remember this!"

"There is a beast with a bluish color, shaped like overlapping mountains."

The eleventh, under the moon and amidst the smoke.

The clouds are faint and indistinct, the twilight deepens and the colors appear.

His beard was like a forest, his bones as sharp as stone.

As the saying goes: Stars hide like snowflakes, the moon is obscured by darkness.

People can be pure or impure, and colors can be good or bad.

Five weapons are hard to harm, five fires are hard to defend against

Burning its flesh and blood, ink springs flow, mist and smoke dissipate, two untamed heads remain.

However, the beasts are difficult to subdue, but are easy to control at dawn and dusk, and can be easily eliminated.

Its form is false, and its contents are also false.

"The brush wove the scroll as if drunk, seemingly lost in a trance, all in one night."

Bai Zhou answered quickly and accurately.

"Wow, you have a good memory. You didn't miss a single word."

Miaobi patted his head as a reward.

"This is my favorite one!"

Bai Zhou smiled broadly, seemingly referring to a topic that interested him.

"But why does it end in tragedy?"

"A tragedy..."

Miaobi chuckled softly.

"Because it's true. The prototype of this story is that kind of person. If there were no external interference, her ending would be just like the one written in the story."

"Tragedy? You're not her, how would you know that this wasn't a relief for her?"

The artist refuted Miaobi's words and casually tapped Baizhou on the head.

"Sigh, I understand the reasoning, but why did you hit me, sir?"

Bai Zhou, who had been attacked for no reason, looked at the painter with a bitter expression.

"I don't want to hit this guy, so I don't get my hands dirty."

The painter withdrew his hand, no longer looking at the masterpiece, and turned to leave.

"what?"

The little boy's head was full of question marks during the day.

"Didn't you want to eat the scaled beasts at that restaurant? If you don't hurry, there will only be dead scaled beasts left."

The artist's voice came from a distance; he had already walked several meters away.

"Oh! I'm coming right now, sir! Please wait for me."

Returning to the kinship of the ten sisters, guests from outer space

Why did you come along too?

The artist stared at the master painter sitting opposite him, his face clearly showing his displeasure.

"I also want to eat the braised crucian carp scales here, is that not allowed?"

When the artist is unhappy, the magic pen makes them happy.

"Then why don't you sit at that table over there? There aren't any empty seats here for anyone else."

The painter was referring to the darkest corner of the restaurant, a place where even a beggar wouldn't sit unless there was absolutely no other seating available.