Beware Of Chicken Chapter 295 v7c42: Framing and Brushes

Yang noted that the reception hosted by Master Rou, his wife, and their attendants had progressed smoothly for the Framed Sun Sect. The initial tension had melted away once they witnessed the visitor’s cordial demeanor, especially since the powerful cultivator had graciously permitted Yang to record the exchange.

He wore a mild smile; the gentle expression one reserves for children or juniors. From anyone else, such a look would have been patronizing or insulting, but coming from a Spiritual Herb Master of the Cloudy Sword Sect, being viewed as a protégé was a fortunate development.

No one gazes upon those they intend to harm with such a look.

It aligned perfectly with his reputation: benevolent and entirely unconcerned with forcing their submission. He was a titanic presence, yet he extended the freedom for them to forge their own path.

Even though the Framed Sun Sect was clearly the lesser party in this relationship, Master Rou and his wife offered genuine compliments that clearly carried the weight of sincerity.

Everything was proceeding quite well. Their guests were escorted to the main pavilion, which commanded the most impressive view of the Peaks.

"It is truly magnificent. I had heard the legends and seen Yun Ren's sketches, but witnessing it with my own eyes...?" Lady Meiling remarked with a soft sigh, her gaze fixed on the Dueling Peaks. The sun was drifting toward its most breathtaking position relative to the pavilion, just moments before the gong, the Thunder of the Earth, eclipsed it.

"The world is bathed in shades of gold and rose, while mountains frame our ultimate destination. Though ten thousand Li separate us, for a moment, it feels like nothing more than a casual walk," Yang recited, quoting one of his ancestor's poems effortlessly.

Initially, they had assumed the poem solely concerned the path of Cultivation. Now, however, Yang was certain it focused less on the mechanics of their practice and more on the symbolic significance of the Dueling Peaks themselves.

Yang's father tensed slightly at his interruption of the powerful cultivator’s moment of reflection. However, both Master Rou and Lady Meiling simply smiled, appearing unfazed. "Ah, that piece is quite exquisite," she remarked, causing Yang to bow his head in gratitude. His father shifted from anxiety over the intrusion to beaming with pride at the acknowledgement.

"Master Rou, please, be seated and enjoy our Sect's hospitality," Chen Tai invited, gesturing expansively. Attendants entered from the wings, bearing platters piled high with their finest culinary creations. Rare delicacies reserved for only the most monumental occasions were present in abundance—tea-smoked duck, honey-glazed goose, five-spice peacock, and even an entire braised ripperbeak. This massive avian, outsized compared to any man, was stuffed with aromatics and lemons, its skin packed with butter according to an ancient, guarded recipe.

And those were merely the avian dishes. The bounty of the Grass Sea filled every table.

There were smoked bison ribs served with a vibrant wild berry reduction, steaks seared on scorching stones, and bao filled with loin, onion, and cabbage.

There were roasted, baked, and braised deer shanks; rice infused with five treasures including nuts, bamboo, peas, and squash; steamed river fish seasoned with ginger and wine; and their signature sunflower seed confections—a local specialty from the southern regions, where the giant fields provided both oil for frying and seeds to consume.

It was a massive banquet that caused the tables to creak under the strain. Wa Shi stared at the spread with sheer delight.

"I offer my thanks for the cordial welcome, Sect Master Chen Tai. And please, convey my apologies to your chefs; the notice was quite brief." Such words from a cultivator of his caliber were unheard of. Servants typically handled such labor, yet as Yang had observed, Master Rou remained profoundly attentive to the welfare of mortals.

It was a trait Yang had endeavored to emulate since the Dueling Peaks Incident. There was a unique warmth in being so well-regarded and seeing the local mortals greet him openly in the streets. A few even felt comfortable enough to banter with him or seek his calligraphy advice. Why, one man had been so moved by Yang's characters that he had taught himself to read solely to better appreciate them!

"My thanks to you all for your diligent work," Lady Meiling said, offering a bright smile to the stunned servants. The head steward, Rui, stepped forward and bowed deeply.

"It is our absolute honor to attend to Master Rou and Lady Meiling. We only hope that our efforts meet with your satisfaction," he replied.

They both nodded, clearly pleased, before settling into their chairs. "I am certain they will. Everything smells divine," Lady Meiling added, causing the servants' chests to swell with pride.

"Then my family's seventy-six generations of service have finally been validated; I can face my ancestors with pride today," Rui said.

In truth, the lineage likely spanned even longer. Yang recalled seeing a man who bore a striking resemblance to Rui serving their own revered ancestor.

Indeed, it was a point of pride for them as well. An unbroken chain of service to the family? Despite all the challenges they had faced, they remained dedicated stewards of their ancestor's legacy.

They feasted, and the conversation remained light, mostly centering on their Sect's architecture, land holdings, and the ingenuity of their local mortals. While mundane to some, Master Rou showed a genuine, keen interest in every detail.

The discussion eventually veered toward calligraphy, which ignited a truly spirited exchange. They debated brush hair lengths, ink viscosity, and paper quality, ultimately inviting the servants to present some of their most prized scrolls, which the guests reviewed as the sun began to dip below the horizon.

To the utter astonishment of his father and fellow Sect members, even the ox participated; his name was Bei Be, and his serene, deceptively quiet voice reached them all.

Conversing with an ox felt strange, yet Yang had spent enough time speaking with monkeys that he found it surprisingly natural—and the ox possessed a refined eye for art. The salt-and-pepper haired attendant, who carried himself with the bearing of an aristocrat, joined the debate as well.

"Oh, that one is marvelous. It matches the poem you recited earlier, but the way the artist rendered the Peaks themselves with the sun caught between them? Truly breathtaking," Master Rou declared.

His father glanced at the Elders, who all nodded in unison. The piece was undoubtedly beautiful, and it bolstered their confidence that they had something else Master Rou would appreciate.

Slowly, the feast drew to a close. The sun finally vanished behind the Thunder of the Earth.

It shimmered with a golden heat as light shone through the characters carved into the gong, and then the striker recoiled into position.

Arranging this brief spectacle had cost his father a significant sum.

The Thunder of the Earth resonated. A single, profound note echoed through the air, clear and pure. It was not a violent roar, but a surprisingly gentle vibration that carried a depth of serenity rarely found in something so massive.

The aroma of fine cooking. The balmy summer evening. The resonant hum. It was an exceptionally beautiful moment.

Master Rou’s smile deepened. Lady Meiling’s eyes glittered. The attendants gasped, their faces filled with genuine wonder.

"Wonderful," Master Rou concluded. "What a charming evening."

"Your praise is a great honor, Master Rou," Yang's father replied. "We are elated that we could offer even a humble gift. These may be mere tokens compared to your immense power, but we hope they are not entirely unpleasing.’

The servants presented their finest handmade paper and highest-grade ink; both gifts earned appreciative nods. Tigu and Gou Ren, who shared a passion for cooking, received a scroll containing their personal recipes. A delicate calligraphy set was also set aside for when Young Master Zhuye matured, though he would likely possess superior instruments by then, gifted by Master Rou himself.

It felt slightly embarrassing to offer only mortal, mundane gifts, but they held back one final offering: the calligraphy Master Rou had praised earlier. The man’s eyes widened as they presented it.

"Are you certain?" he asked. "I would hate to deprive your Sect of such a masterpiece."

"To see you recognize its value is enough for us to know it belongs with you," Chen Tai said. "Please, take it. We are honored it will reside with the man who shielded the Azure Hills from demon incursions."

"Thank you. I shall display this in my library, or perhaps in the sitting room," Master Rou replied, tracing the lines of the ink.

It was clear he liked it well enough to wish to see it every single day.

The Sect would likely boast of this interaction for generations.

Of course, the exchange of gifts did not stop there.

Master Rou appeared determined to balance the scales for the artwork he had received.

There were bales of Gold Grade rice. Jugs of maple syrup. Produce so infused with Qi that Yang found himself salivating despite being already full from the banquet.

And then, the ultimate prizes were revealed.

Spiritual Herbs. Directly from a Spiritual Herb Master.

Volcano Ginseng. Endowed with Fire and Yang attributes, it was an immense treasure for their cultivation. That alone would have been a windfall beyond their wildest dreams.

But then, he produced something they had coveted for years.

"Obsidian Inkroot?!" Yang's father cried out.

It was the source of some of the highest-quality ink in the Empire. Obtaining it out here would normally necessitate selling their entire manor.

"Yes, and I still owed you from before," Master Rou mentioned. "One treasure for another. It seems fair. My Seniors all derived great pleasure from that piece..."

And that was how the entire Framed Sun Sect ended up engaged in a spontaneous calligraphy session alongside Master Rou and his entourage.

They traded turns creating new works and presenting them. Master Rou’s bold, decisive strokes contrasted with Lady Meiling’s precise, scribe-like script. The mortal attendant contributed an elegant flourish, while Bei Be added sharp, deliberate slashes and drawings, which inspired the others to experiment with the style. Traditionally, only the characters were considered art, but incorporating illustrations proved surprisingly captivating.

Their Sect reciprocated with poems and sketches of their own. Yang managed a single flash of gold ink, a swipe infused with his own Qi... it held to the page, shimmering with a faint light.

Master Rou was their honored guest, yet he wove them all into his sphere. He made everyone feel at ease. By the end of the night, they all felt like old friends.

====

We only remained at the Framed Sun Sect for one night, departing as the sun rose—though we did not leave alone. The Framed Sun Sect followed at a respectful distance as we traveled toward the Dueling Peaks.

"It's quite different from Delun's home, isn't it?" Meimei inquired.

"Indeed," I answered. The Ironfields had been an alien landscape—harsh and unforgiving. The inhabitants had clung to survival in a region lacking everything but metal.

The Framed Sun Sect felt more in line with my expectations of a cultivator's residence. There was plenty. A palace defined by grand feasts, high-quality produce, and enough meat to satisfy anyone.

It was grand. Perhaps bordering on ostentatious... yet it never felt obnoxious. Perhaps I was wearing rose-tinted glasses, but I truly enjoyed the evening—discussing calligraphy and relaxing was genuinely pleasant. And the Dueling Peaks? The view was spectacular.

I felt a pang of guilt. They had gone to extreme lengths, gifting me marvelous calligraphy, while I had returned the favor with common items I had in surplus—plus a flower Gramps had given me for ink production.

I only hope the calligraphy I gave them was thoughtful enough...

'I found it enjoyable,' Babe declared. 'It was fun. Their obsession with the characters is quite interesting.' I smiled at his sentiment. I was glad he was forging bonds.

"Well, I'm sure they would welcome us back anytime. What about you, Washy? ...Washy?" I looked back when the fish failed to answer.

He was buried nose-deep in the scroll of recipes, whiskers humming, his eyes nearly bloodshot as he greedily devoured the contents.

Everyone in the carriage erupted in laughter.

"It was... quite an experience. A positive one," Teacher remarked softly. "I never imagined I would find myself among cultivators discussing calligraphy, but the night was well spent."

Lady Wu, the fox girls, and Bane all signaled their agreement.

Well, Bane just wiggled happily toward me, but that still counted!

'...I suspect Xan would have taken a liking to them,' Tianlan whispered. 'But! They are still far too stiff! Where were the ridiculous poems? I was eager to see how his fart jokes had matured over time, but they didn't even use one. My favorite was The Wind Blows! "I possess two mouths and two voices, one speaks with intent, the other without my permission..."'

I shook my head at her recitation of the crude verse and leant out the window. The Peaks grew closer with every passing moment.

"So... do you think Xiulan has prepared a welcome for us?" I asked.

"I hope it's brief. Zhuye and I are suffering from a deficit of Xiulan hugs; this requires immediate rectification," Meimei declared, bouncing Zhuye on her knee. "Hear that, Xiaode? Auntie Lanlan is near!"

"Lala?" he burbled. "Aun' Lala?"

Meiling beamed. I ruffled his hair. Xiulan would be thrilled that he was mastering her name.

As for me... it was time to see how much had changed since my last visit.