The discussions continued as the examiners on stage displayed the completed paintings for everyone to see, demonstrating the fairness of the results.
Fan Liuer and Zhao Yan’s paintings followed a similar style, both depicting autumn chrysanthemums blooming in a garden. To be fair, they were beautiful, but their artistic conception was too ordinary, which naturally earned them the lower rankings.
Qin Qing had painted a “Red Immortal” chrysanthemum, a variety she was familiar with. The painting depicted only this single chrysanthemum branch, meticulously detailed and lifelike. She had certainly taken a different approach, completely abandoning artistic conception in favor of boldly showcasing her painting technique. The “Red Immortal” came alive on the paper, truly beautiful. However, the evaluation wasn’t solely based on painting technique but also on artistic intent, so no matter how beautiful this chrysanthemum was, it could only secure third place.
Soon, it was time for Shen Yue’s painting. Shen Yue sat beside Chen Ruoqiu, biting her lip and maintaining a forced smile, though her fists were tightly clenched. Normally, she would have been smiling with ease at this moment, accepting sincere praise and admiration from everyone. But now, this “second place in the second rank” felt like a profound mockery, making her feel as though everyone’s gazes were filled with ridicule and derision.
Shen Yue had painted a weathered chrysanthemum. In the blustery wind and rain, many petals had fallen from the garden chrysanthemums, yet sparse petals still clung firmly to the stems, standing straight, like figures of great integrity. Beside it were two lines of poetry: “Better to die embracing fragrance on the branch than ever to have fallen in the northern wind.”
This painting could be considered lofty in concept. Generally speaking, from the painting to the person, the weathered chrysanthemum in the painting showed noble character, and the artist would naturally be seen as having an upright and lofty character. The chief examiner particularly favored those with both talent and character. If Shen Yue’s painting couldn’t secure “first rank,” it was truly unimaginable what Shen Miao could have painted.
“Such a beautiful painting? How could it be only second in the second rank?” Bai Wei exclaimed, “I truly don’t understand.”
Chen Ruoqiu was equally puzzled. Initially, she thought Shen Yue had been somewhat nervous today and had taken a wrong approach. When the painting was displayed, however, she knew her daughter had made no mistake—like in previous years’ evaluations, she was indeed deserving of first rank. But how did it turn out differently?
Ren Wanyun was somewhat gleeful about Shen Yue’s predicament. Shen Yue’s exceptional scholarship had consistently overshadowed Shen Qing in the evaluations. Seeing Shen Yue suffer a setback, although Shen Miao claiming first place also displeased her, since it wasn’t her concern, she was happy to watch the drama unfold.
On stage, the examiner instructed two young attendants to unfurl the scroll, and the clamor abruptly ceased.
The paper was large, and Shen Miao’s painting left much blank space, as her painting technique was not outstanding. She had only broadly sketched the distant scenery, yet unexpectedly achieved a magnificent, grand atmosphere.
On the painting scroll, endless yellow sand stretched out, a slanting sun spewed blood-red colors, a broken sword stood upright in the yellow earth, and beneath the sword lay a handful of white chrysanthemums.
Here, the chrysanthemum seemed merely a decorative element, so small that even the veins on its petals were barely discernible. Yet in this painting, it served as the finishing touch that brought the work to life, with a desolate and bleak feeling ready to burst forth.
Everyone present fell silent for a moment. Through paper and brush, they seemed to feel the desolation and tragedy, the helpless struggle.
It was war.
Chen Ruoqiu and Shen Yue trembled simultaneously. After seeing clearly what was depicted on the painting scroll, they knew there was no chance of overturning the result.
Indeed, Shen Yue’s artistic conception was elegant, her style not descending into vulgarity, encompassing both character and nobility. But Shen Miao’s painting transcended the individual self. If Shen Yue was using chrysanthemums to praise human character, Shen Miao was using flowers to express her ambitions. How could an individual’s emotions compare to the cruelty of war?
No wonder the examiners had been arguing earlier, reluctant to conclude. They probably hadn’t expected such a magnificent, powerful painting to come from the hands of the supposedly foolish Shen Miao.
The chief examiner, Grand Secretary Zhong Ziqi, said: “Student Shen Miao, please come up and explain your reason for creating this painting.”
Every student who achieved “first rank” was required to share their insights about winning first place. Today, however, Shen Miao was asked to explain the reason for her painting because no one believed she could create such a work—they suspected she might have heard the idea somewhere else.
Shen Qing smiled and said softly to Yi Peilan beside her: “Now she’s going to be exposed.”
“But is it not her painting?” Yi Peilan was somewhat confused. “We all just saw her paint it stroke by stroke herself.”
“The technique isn’t outstanding, and as for the concept, who knows if someone gave her guidance?” Shen Qing looked disdainfully at Shen Miao as she walked toward the stage. “Having lived with her for so many years, I know what she’s capable of. Grand Secretary Zhong is now asking her to explain the reason for her painting. I imagine she won’t be able to articulate it and will lose face again.”
Hearing this, Yi Peilan also smiled: “I thought so. How could someone become a talented lady so quickly? I fear she sought guidance from a master just to attract him—” Her gaze swept suggestively toward Prince Jing in the male attendees’ section. “Shen Miao has certainly gone to great lengths for him.”
Shen Qing’s expression froze, and suppressing her displeasure, she said: “Let’s just watch.”
On stage, Shen Miao quietly gazed at the unfurled scroll. Slowly, she extended her hand and, to everyone’s astonishment, touched the painting.
“The reason I created this painting is because I’ve heard my father say that each year, countless heroic men die on the battlefield, their bodies wrapped in horsehide, perishing in the yellow sands. Because the journey is too long, they can only be buried on the battlefield. At that time, in the northwestern desert and the northern grasslands, there are no chrysanthemums. Chrysanthemums bloom in the warm south, bloom in the prosperous capital of Dingjing, where there are songs and dances, and no worries about food and clothing—all at the cost of the lives of frontier soldiers.”
The discussions gradually stopped, and everyone’s gaze focused on the purple-clad young lady.
Her gaze was calm as she spoke eloquently, like telling a story: “My father once said that soldiers who die in war cannot even have a handful of white chrysanthemums after their sacrifice. Flowers don’t bloom on the battlefield; the soldiers never experience complete mourning. Their wives and children can only stay far away in their homeland, wearing white chrysanthemums on their heads, offering white chrysanthemums in tribute.”
“I believe that all of you who can now peacefully appreciate chrysanthemums here do so because of the brave men guarding the borders. Unfortunately, I cannot do anything for them except, on this painting, place a handful of white chrysanthemums before a mound of yellow earth to comfort their heroic souls.”
The young lady stood in the wind, her eyes clear, her words resonant and powerful. It was as if her words alone were clear and pleasing to the ear in the world, yet they struck like morning bells and evening drums, beating against everyone’s hearts.
Shen Miao slightly lowered her gaze.
Didn’t the Ming Qi royal family want to deal with the great noble clans, to deal with the Shen family? But in this vast world, people’s eyes will see, and people’s ears will hear. Guarding against the people’s mouths is more difficult than guarding against a flood. To strike first is to gain the advantage. Since the royal family wanted to make an example of the General’s household, she would let the world see.
Look! The merits the Shen family earned with their lives, the lives the Shen family gave to guard Ming Qi’s walls—now you nobles’ children enjoy songs and dances in the capital, all built upon the solid ice formed from the blood and flesh under the swords on the battlefield!
Treading on the soldiers’ blood, would the Ming Qi royal family still dare to openly suppress them?
If you dare, then don’t fear the eyes of the world!