The Dandy's Duchess

Chapter 115: Painting Skills, Lifelike Brushwork (5)

As he spoke, Mo Li held his ground. "This is Miss's personal quarters. Even though Your Highness is technically her cousin, you are not the Queen's biological son and thus not truly her cousin. Regardless, a cousin should still respect certain boundaries. Please, Your Highness, step back. Whatever business you have can wait until she awakens."

Ye Tianqing's face darkened with irritation. Not being the Queen's biological son had always been a sore spot for him, especially when even the Fourth Prince dared to show him disrespect as a result. Now, hearing Mo Li mention it so bluntly only stoked his displeasure. "She's the Yun Prince's legitimate daughter. One day, as the Yun Prince's successor, she is bound to—"

"Such a matter has yet to be decided and thus remains uncertain. Please, Your Highness, choose your words wisely," Mo Li interrupted, cautioning Ye Tianqing coldly, without the slightest regard for his status.

"You...how dare you!" Ye Tianqing's slight irritation flared into full-blown anger.

"My duty is to protect Miss. Forgive me, Your Highness, but even if the Emperor himself were here today, he would certainly not step one foot into Miss's quarters." Mo Li's voice was icy, unyielding.

Ye Tianqing stared at him, his face somber. Mo Li's eyes were steady, unwavering. After a tense moment, he shifted his gaze to the tightly closed curtain over the main hall. Finally, with a harsh flick of his sleeve, he turned away, heading for the courtyard exit. From there, he warned, "You'd better watch over her closely. If I can't enter, then no one else should be allowed to either. If I find you've let anyone else inside, you'll pay for it with your head."

Mo Li remained silent, not responding.

With that, Ye Tianqing disappeared beyond the courtyard. Mo Li glanced toward the main room's drawn curtains before retreating into the shadows.

Watching from a distance, Cai Lian breathed a sigh of relief, admiring Mo Li's composure. She thought about how fortunate it was that Miss had her hidden guard present; she alone could never have stopped the Crown Prince. Then again, she recalled how Mo Li hadn't intervened when Prince Jing had arrived, realizing he held a different status from the Crown Prince, and she let the matter go as she returned to her conversation with Ting Xue and Ting Yu.

Inside, Rongjing sat with his eyes closed. The curtain dimmed the sunlight, casting soft shadows across his face, making his refined features appear unreadable.

"Water..." Yun Qianyue suddenly murmured in discomfort, her voice barely a whisper.

Rongjing opened his eyes, rose from the soft couch, and moved to the table to pour her water. As he picked up the teapot, his sleeve brushed against a rolled-up painting on the table. Curious, he set the teapot down and unfurled it. The scene of Ye Qingran standing on lotus leaves, playfully catching fish, came into view. His gaze sharpened slightly.

Each brushstroke showed balanced strength, with perfect shades of ink bringing the scene to life. The mountains, the pavilion, the cascading waterfall, the river, and the lively fish all appeared vibrant and realistic. Ye Qingran's graceful stance upon the lotus leaves was depicted with such skill that he seemed to leap from the paper. Such a painting could only have been made by someone with exceptional talent and skill in traditional Chinese art—a level even the celebrated "First Lady of Talent," Miss Yu Ning from the Prime Minister's residence, could hardly match.

Rongjing's gaze narrowed slightly as he glanced at Yun Qianyue, who was still lying on the bed.

Her lips were dry, as if waiting for water, and she kept smacking her lips lightly.

Rongjing's gaze shifted back to the painting. He then opened a second scroll beneath it, revealing another painting of Ye Qingran squatting to clean fish. The fine details captured the freshness of the fish and the delight in Ye Qingran's expression, matching the previous painting's fluid brushwork. It was unmistakably the work of the same artist.

Considering that yesterday's trip to the rear mountain had included only Yun Qianyue and Ye Qingran, it was clear who had painted these scenes. Neither the Crown Prince, the Fourth Prince, nor Miss Yu Ning, who had come later, had witnessed those moments. Even Xian Ge, with his high martial skills, had chosen to avoid getting close to the rear mountain for fear of offending Ye Qingran. Clearly, only one person could have painted these scenes.

Rongjing recalled her mentioning that she had painted two pictures but forgotten to put them away.

His expression turned colder, and with a quiet "rip," he tore a corner of the painting. Staring at the carefree, proud smile on Ye Qingran's face, a subtle darkness appeared in his usually calm and gentle eyes, as though a whirlpool was forming, eager to consume that arrogant, carefree expression.

"Water..." Yun Qianyue mumbled again, her voice weak and insistent.

"There's no water," Rongjing said coolly, casting her a sidelong glance.

"Water..." Yun Qianyue, still in a half-dream, struggled to open her eyes but couldn't. Her whole body felt limp, and she could only feel the intense dryness parching her throat.

Unmoved, Rongjing ignored her, keeping his attention on the paintings.

Yun Qianyue tossed and turned in discomfort, causing her blanket to fall to the floor as she mumbled incoherently.

After a moment, Rongjing pulled a small flint from his sleeve, striking it with a quick motion that ignited a small, sharp flame. He held it close to the two paintings on the table, setting them ablaze.

Startled by the sound of the flint, Cai Lian hurried to the door, calling out, "Prince Jing? Is something wrong?"

"No, there's no need to come in," he replied, his tone as calm and unperturbed as ever.

After a moment's hesitation, she decided it must have been her imagination and returned to her conversation.

Rongjing watched the two paintings burn, watching as the pavilion, mountains, fish, and Ye Qingran's exuberant smile were all consumed by the flames. In seconds, the beautiful works of art turned to ashes, and his usual gentle expression returned, tranquil and unfazed. He glanced at the pile of ash on the table, discarded the flint, and returned to the couch.

"Water...cough, cough..." Yun Qianyue's parched throat caught, and she coughed from the faint trace of smoke.

Rongjing closed his eyes, remaining indifferent.

Eventually, her thirst roused her from her stupor, and Yun Qianyue opened her eyes with great effort, blinking to clear her vision. She licked her dry lips and, feeling a painful thirst, staggered out of bed and stumbled over to the table. Grabbing the teapot, she drank directly from it in desperate gulps, the sound echoing clearly in the quiet room.

Finally, after downing the entire pot, she felt her thirst ease. Setting down the teapot, she noticed a thin layer of ash on the table, her brow furrowing slightly in confusion. Too exhausted to investigate, she turned back toward her bed, only to notice someone else in the room. Her eyes widened, and she exclaimed in surprise, "Rongjing?"