Although Lou Beiyu and his guards have been beaten miserably, in the end, itâs still just wounds.
Theyâre easily cured under Muyanâs hands.
Lou Beiyu frowns as he drinks a bowl of medicine.
Just as he puts his medicine bowl down, he sees the robust men of the Ink Camp standing in a row in front of his bed.
Each one of them are fierce and frightening, looking at him like theyâre itching to skin him alive and chop up his corpse.
âYou... what are you guys up to?!â Lou Beiyuâs voice unintentionally trembles a bit.
Heâs really scared from the recent beating.
Bewildered, he listens to the man who was the first one to throw a punch at him just a while ago, the otherâs voice coarse and gruff: âSpeak, how do you want to punish us?â
âAh?â
ââAhâ what âahâ? If you donât punish us, Little Master will surely peel off a layer of our skin later.â
Seeing Lou Beiyu put on a clueless face, Guan Hu gets even angrier that he steps forward.
All throughout, Guan Hu sizes him up from left to right, and the more he looks, the more dissatisfied his expression becomes.
If he looks at this appearance of a weak chicken, and thinks that this man is the Missâ apprentice, he might as well be seeing a ghost*.
-
- unbelievable
You canât blame them for beating him up!
âYouâre really Missâ disciple?â the disdain in his tone is almost overflowing.
As soon as Lou Beiyu hears this, his hair immediately stands on end, âOf course Iâm Masterâs apprentice!!â
This group can question his identity as a prince, but they canât question his relationship with his Master and Little Senior.
Guan Hu curls his lips and says: âWith your appearance of a weak chicken, what part of you looks like the Missâ apprentice? And which part looks like the Little Masterâs junior?â
Who wouldâve thought that after he gets scolded by other people as a âweak chickenâ, Lou Beiyu doesnât show the slightest bit of shame or annoyance.
He looks righteous and self-confident instead, âWhat Iâm learning under Master isnât martial arts anyway, what does me being weak have anything to do with being her apprentice?â
âNot martial arts? Then what it is? Medicine?â
Lou Beiyu has a profound and mysterious expression as he shakes his head.
âNot medicine? Is it refining draughts?â
He goes on with shaking his head.
At this time, the Ink Campâs men have really become curious.
âIn the end, what are you studying under Miss?â
Lou Beiyu shows a mysterious smile, then he has people fetch over a parcel from the side. He takes out a decorated Hanging Scroll from within it.
As the scroll slowly unfurls, the crowd of rough men from the Ink Camp finally gets a look at the vivid and lifelike painting on it, then everyone is petrified.
âTh-thi-this... what is this?!â Guan Huâs rough voice quacks madly like a duck, letting out a yell thatâs as shrill as a court eunuchâs.
All of the other members of the Ink Camp are also dumbstruck, looking sluggish.
Really, the scene on this display is too hard to accept.
The painting is of a man who is seven-foot tall like them, but wearing light muslin clothes, and adopting a drunken and alluring pose.
The scene is still very beautiful. That seven-foot man has a hazy face, but his stance is a perfect combination of grace and strength.
That picture is so vivid and lifelike, as if it will jump out of the paper.
Goddamn realistic!!
Guan Hu has a lifeless look in his eyes as he turns to Lou Beiyu, âYou... what youâre studying under Miss...â
âItâs this!â Lou Beiyuâs face is in awe as he exclaims in admiration, âMasterâs painting skills are much better than mine. She originally gave me a few paintings of guards drawn as beauties, and every roll seems to have a soul. At this time, even though Iâve already been working hard to practice, I have yet to reach a tenth of Masterâs skill.â
His voice suddenly halts.
He looks up and down, sizing up Guan Hu and the others, the light in his eyes getting brighter and brighter.
And Guan Huâs group has each of their scalps go numb, and they canât wait to break into a run and escape.