152. The Scarred Man with a Broken Blade

The one hundred and thirty-second year of the Chuyuan era of Great Yin—

"By the mandate of Heaven and the grace of the Emperor, an imperial decree is hereby issued: The prosperous fortune of our state shall be recorded with the brush, carried by ink, and left to endure through paper and inkstone. Our Great Yin is blessed with enchanting scenery and outstanding talents. We hold a singular fondness for the finest inks, and hereby issue this proclamation to the realm to levy tribute ink..."

The reigning Emperor Chuyuan of Great Yin had always been partial to the ways of scholars and literati. It was said that whenever he had leisure, Emperor Chuyuan would don a scholar's azure robe, disguise himself as a man of letters, and wander through the common markets.

Furthermore, any truly gifted scholar who managed to catch the Emperor's eye in the guise of a literary man would secure a smooth and rapid rise to prominence for the rest of his life.

The Ink-Making Bureau, subordinate to the Imperial Court's Inner Directorate, was specifically responsible for selecting folk ink-making masters and ink pellets for the Emperor. That imperial decree levying tribute ink had been issued precisely by the Ink-Making Bureau.

Like a single staff stirring a pool of water, the entire realm of Great Yin and the entire ink-making industry were set into turmoil by this decree. Everyone wished to become an imperial ink-making master, and everyone hoped the ink pellets they crafted would be favored by Emperor Chuyuan.

When a craftsman reached such a height, they could undoubtedly be considered to have attained the absolute pinnacle of their craft.

In Yizhou, naturally, things were far from calm.

A year and a half flashed by in the blink of an eye. When Feng Puyu passed away abruptly, Gu Fei shed only that single tear, silent and quiet. After managing all the funeral arrangements, aside from occasional visits to Pine and Cypress Manor, she spent most of her time crafting ink pellets in the ink chamber.

It was under such circumstances that the poisonous ink she had long desired to create was finally brought into existence.

This ink was styled in the shape of a court lady playing a pipa in reverse. The lady's features and expression were rendered with lifelike precision, making it truly exquisite in the extreme. Its entire body was an ink-cyan color, light in weight with a delicate and smooth glaze. When smelled, it emitted a faint, refreshing fragrance—one might call it the scent of wild roses, yet upon closer appreciation, it resembled the holy sandalwood of a temple.

When ground, the ink was a profound, opaque black. Once brushed onto paper, it carried a faint, lustrous purple glow, full and radiant.

Most peculiarly, as time passed, the fragrance of this ink would only grow increasingly rich and captivating.

Gu Fei sat behind her desk. The poisonous ink-cake shaped like the court lady playing the pipa rested on an ink bed. A tiny puddle of jet-black ink sat in the inkstone, and a very faint fragrance permeated the entire study.

Pulling back her sleeves, she set down her brush and began carefully tracing a masterpiece depicting scholars boiling tea before her. Yet all her innate talent and ability had been poured into ink-making; when it came to painting and calligraphy, she was quite unskilled. Seeing the picture ruined by her own hand once more, she frowned, crumpled it up without a moment's hesitation, and tossed it aside. She then pressed down a fresh sheet of blank paper, saturated her brush with ink, and started over from the beginning.

When Mama Ku entered carrying a cup of ginseng tea, a goodly pile of ruined paper had already accumulated on the floor. Shaking her head, she set the tea aside and said, "Young Lady, the two hours are up. You must not use these ink pellets any longer."

Mama Ku was well aware that the ink pellets were poisonous. While it was feasible for Gu Fei to use this ink to create a painting, her daily contact with the ink juice could not exceed two hours; otherwise, even Gu Fei herself would inevitably be poisoned.

Gu Fei laid down her wolf-hair brush, picked up the cup of ginseng tea, and took a sip. "I know. I've already applied the antidote powder, so it's fine."

Knowing Gu Fei's stubborn temperament, Mama Ku paused to gather her thoughts before speaking, "For the Young Lady to attempt to finish this painting before returning to Dajing—in this old servant's view, it is truly too difficult for you. Furthermore, if it is not painted well, it cannot be presented. In my opinion, why not find someone who excels in this art?"

Gu Fei paused, setting down her teacup. "How could I not know that? But I am troubled by the fact that I have been unable to find such a person."

The wrinkles on Mama Ku's face smoothed out slightly. Tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, she said, "This old servant happens to know someone who can do this."

Gu Fei raised an eyebrow and looked up at Mama Ku. Without asking any superfluous questions, she pointed to the poisonous ink and said, "If they are trustworthy, then by all means proceed. Moreover, the matter of this poisonous ink must not become known to others."

Mama Ku nodded. "This old servant understands. Perhaps I should scrape off some powder from the ink pellet."

"No. Being overly secretive will only arouse suspicion. Just take the whole thing directly," Gu Fei said indifferently.

If Mama Ku could truly find someone capable of copying the original painting with extreme precision, it would dispose of one of her lingering concerns.

Mama Ku immediately and cautiously placed the court lady pipa-playing ink pellet into an ink box, and gathered up all the scrap paper from the floor. Hesitating for a moment, she asked, "When does the Young Lady plan to return?"

Gu Fei's fingertips, which were caressing the armrest of her wheelchair, came to a halt. A heavy, layered darkness flashed instantly in her apricot-shaped, dark-pupiled eyes. Just when Mama Ku thought she would not answer, she heard her reply in a ghostly whisper: "Whenever that painting is finished, that is when I will return."

"I am going to give the Dajing Mo family an enormous gift," she added a moment later.

Glancing down at the ink box in her hand, Mama Ku finally understood that Gu Fei had crafted the poisonous ink specifically because of the Mo family. "This old servant understands. I will make sure that person finishes it quickly."

Gu Fei nodded, then seemed to recall something. "Is there any news regarding Dajing from the Linlang Pavilion?"

If she was to return, she naturally could not remain completely blind to the current situation in Dajing.

Mama Ku replied, "In Dajing, several princes are currently engaged in fierce struggles, and various factions are intertwined. Ink-making families like the Mo family, though they have not accepted recruitment from any faction and seemingly focus entirely on preparing for this tribute ink selection, are rumored to have already drawn the dissatisfaction of certain princes—who are simply chafing at the lack of an excuse to make a move."

Gu Fei propped her head with one hand, casually picking up her brush and swirling it a few times in the washing basin. Watching the concentrated and diluted ink spread like mist, she let out a cold sneer. "Those are all superficial things. No matter how dissatisfied a prince might be with the Mo family, he wouldn't dare truly strike against them. You must remember that ten to five or six of the ink pellets on Emperor Chuyuan's desk these days are crafted by the Mo family. And past tribute ink levies, barring accidents, have always been opportunities for the Mo family to further establish their renown. Even Emperor Chuyuan visited the Mo family's ink chambers a few years ago; they are a family firmly anchored in the Emperor's heart. As for the princes, at most they can only make things difficult with mere words, but to the Mo family, these are completely painless."

"Therefore, mere dissatisfaction from the princes is far from enough..."

Having spent a decade in the Dajing Mo family, Gu Fei was still very clear on certain matters. No one knew better than her just how deep the Mo family's foundations ran. A two-hundred-year-old major clan—how could it possibly crumble overnight?

The more one understood the Mo family, the more terrifying its depths appeared.

During those ten years, even though later events proved that everything she had seen was merely surface-deep, sometimes just the thought of how alarming even those surface appearances were made Gu Fei shudder. What kind of scene lay hidden in the depths, unseen by her?

The Dajing Mo family was like a towering mountain, too majestic to fully behold. And she, even with Yizhou at her back, was merely an ant beneath the mountain.

Yet this could not shake her conviction. The Mo family was not an unassailable monolith; two centuries of time had created the glory of the Mo family, but deep within, foundations always rotted.

Sometimes, to shake a behemoth, one did not need to topple it entirely. She only needed to hollow it out at its most critical roots, and naturally, the colossal entity would collapse with a thunderous crash.

Seeing Gu Fei sink into deep contemplation, Mama Ku light-footedly carried the painting and the ink pellet out of the study.

These days, as the day of her return to Dajing drew increasingly closer, Gu Fei frequently spent vast amounts of time lost in thought. Mama Ku knew that her young lady was considering what demeanor to adopt upon her return, and how to deal a crushing blow to certain members of the Mo family.

After all, only a striking opening act could produce a truly intimidating shockwave.